Hogwarts Raven (Harry Potter)

The wand shop wasn't very large and it felt as though they had walked into a heavily guarded library.

Aside from a single long bench, there were only a few scattered pieces of furniture in the entire shop. The rest were towering shelves, not filled with books, but with thousands of wands.

This was undoubtedly the largest armory in the British wizarding world.

"Good morning, customers." The blond-haired boy was smiling quietly as he spoke.

He had an unusually brilliant head of golden hair, as if woven from the purest sunlight. Every strand shimmered with a dazzling glow. Bathed in the soft morning light, his blond hair looked even more radiant. It swayed gently, as if alive, with countless tiny specks of light dancing around it.

"Have we met somewhere before?" Ian felt a sense of familiarity as he looked at the boy, though he wasn't sure if it was from wandering aimlessly around Diagon Alley earlier.

Just as Ian was pondering,

"Maybe it's because this morning, you brought this young lady and her family to the Cat Dessert Shop for breakfast. I was there too, I had a slice of matcha chocolate cake."

The blond boy put down the book he'd been reading, a wizarding romance novel titled The Fallen Witch Fell in Love with Me. It was unclear why a young boy would be interested in that kind of story.

"Is that so?" Ian tried hard to recall, but he had probably been too focused on the food. With the Grangers treating them, to be distracted by anything else would've been an insult to the delicious meal.

"I remember him. That boy was sitting in the corner at the time," Hermione suddenly said, jumping into the conversation. Her attention had only lingered on the title of the boy's book for a few seconds.

Hermione used to enjoy those kinds of romance novels too. But now, she was only interested in real magic books. The little witch considered this shift a sign of her maturing.

"I also remember meeting this young gentleman when I went to the restroom at the cake shop," Mr. Granger chimed in, and his words were immediately supported by Mrs. Granger.

"A child that beautiful is hard to overlook, I remember him too." The entire Granger family added details, leaving Ian feeling a bit self-conscious.

"That's strange... I don't remember him at all." Ian scratched his head as he spoke. Still, he didn't dwell on it. After all, although the blond boy was indeed striking, he was just another boy. It made sense that Ian, also a boy, hadn't paid much attention to him.

"In the future, we'll all be classmates. There'll be plenty of time to get acquainted. For now, let's help this young lady pick out her wand," The blond boy said again, smiling gently.

"That's right! The wand!" Hermione got excited once more.

"What a young, energetic voice. I believe I already have a rough idea of the type of wand that suits you." Ollivander began rubbing his hands in anticipation as soon as he came into the shop.

"Excellent, excellent. Outstanding talent and a competitive spirit. I think those lovely little fellas are already eager to test whether you're worthy of wielding them."

The old trickster's serious tone made Hermione start to feel nervous.

"You still have to pass a wand test?" She asked, instinctively turning to her parents. Seeing their confused expressions, she realized they were just as clueless about magic as she was. Flustered, she immediately looked at Ian with pleading eyes.

"What should you call me?" Ian asked slowly.

He was imitating Snape's intimidating tone.

"Ian... little teacher?" Hermione replied in a barely audible voice, like a mosquito's buzz.

Since meeting him that morning, Ian had repeatedly reminded her that she needed to address him with more respectful terms.

He said it was so that when she "accidentally" ran into other Hogwarts classmates, they would know she had a close relationship with Ian. That way, she wouldn't get bullied at Hogwarts.

"It's Professor Ian, not 'Little Teacher Ian'!" Ian wasn't exactly someone who enjoyed bullying children. After all, he'd accepted a favor and promised to look after this Miss Granger at Hogwarts.

"Alright then, Professor Ian… what's going on here?" Hermione didn't dare meet Ollivander's eyes again. She could only grit her teeth and shamelessly ask Ian the question once more.

How to put it, this was a classic case of insecurity.

The Hermione from the original timeline was the same way. It was precisely because of her lack of confidence that she appeared overly competitive. Right now, her greatest fear was that Ollivander might judge her as unfit to learn magic.

"It's not a big deal. This is just Ollivander showing off his craftsmanship. Don't worry, he'll definitely find a wand suitable for you to begin your wizarding journey."

Ian's comment immediately drew a rebuttal from Ollivander.

"Wands choose the wizard, Mr. Prince. That is a proven truth… not everyone is like you, with the ability to choose the wand instead of being chosen by one."

Ollivander walked over to Hermione and began measuring her with a tape measure. It was as if he wanted to correct the "false" idea Ian had just implanted in Hermione's mind. He emphasized it several times.

"Yes, that's absolutely how it works. Young lady, your wand will choose you, it has been waiting for you. And my duty is to find it from its hidden place and hand it over to you."

Ollivander's aged voice carried the conviction of deep belief.

However, he didn't expect his own grandson to jump in and ruin the moment.

"To put it simply, we made a ton of wands, so there are more wands than people. There's bound to be one that fits you." The blond-haired boy stood up and spoke with a teasing tone, instantly breaking the solemn atmosphere.

"Lirim, show some reverence for the wands," Ollivander said disapprovingly, glancing at his grandson. His words revealed that the blond boy's name was Lirim Ollivander.

"I'm more concerned about calming the wand-owner's nerves. Can't you see this young lady's about to have a meltdown?" Lirim shrugged, clearly a bit helpless as he replied.

"How about letting me help her choose a wand?" The boy named Lirim looked eager to give it a try.

"You…" Ollivander hesitated.

He was quite worried that his grandson might not be able to carry on the craft properly in the future. So, perhaps letting the boy get some experience in sales wouldn't be a bad idea?

In any case, as long as he crafted enough wands before he died, ones that could be sold over the next few hundred years, it was likely that someone in the Ollivander line would be born with a real talent for wand-making.

With that thought, Ollivander made a decision on the spot.

"Alright then, I'll let you handle it."

He handed the tape measure to Lirim and stepped aside to watch. Maybe because he still wasn't entirely at ease, even when he reached for his cup, his eyes didn't leave the pair for a second.

"Mr. Ollivander, you're holding your grandson's fish tank." Ian swiftly switched it out for a real cup, sparing a few small fish from a tragic gulp.

"This old gentleman must be around eighty, right?" Mrs. Granger whispered to her husband as they watched, clearly implying that Ollivander's reflexes and eyesight seemed… somewhat degraded.

"Eighty? Hahaha, do you think I'm still such a young lad?" Ollivander's hearing, however, was quite sharp, he chuckled happily, seemingly pleased by the assumption.

"…"

The couple exchanged a look of speechless disbelief. What do you mean, still a young lad at eighty? In the Muggle world, most people would've retired or even been buried long ago at this age!

"Young lady, just relax. I'm the one helping you choose a wand now. I'm not going to give you any of that 'wands choose the wizard' talk. All you need to know is this, your wand will reveal the destiny of your entire life."

Lirim began taking measurements for Hermione. To everyone's surprise, he pulled out his own wand and cast a spell on the measuring tape.

Immediately, the tape measure seemed to come alive. It began by measuring the distance from shoulder to fingertip, then moved on to wrist to elbow, knee to armpit, and even her head circumference.

(To Be Continued…)

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