Chapter 6

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Led by McGonagall, the two walked through Diagon Alley and soon arrived at their destination. If Gringotts is the most luxurious building in Diagon Alley, then Ollivander's Wand Shop is definitely among the shabbiest. The dust on the windows has thickened so much that it is hard to see inside, and a crooked wooden sign hangs outside. The sign reads: [Ollivander; crafting wands since 382 BC.]

Seeing the sign, Wayne curled his lips in disbelief. Over 300 BC, this land was not the territory of the Anglo-Saxons. Even the Roman army had not invaded. There were only Celtic tribes, and Ollivander opened a wand shop?

However, as the only wand maker in the UK, Ollivander shouldn't need to pretend to add depth to himself. Seeing Wayne hesitate to move forward, McGonagall thought he was frightened by the shop's shabby appearance. She stepped forward to push open the door and said comfortingly, "Ollivander is just... a bit more informal. His craft of making wands is masterful... Bang!"

Before McGonagall could finish her words, she got distracted and used a little more force. The entire door of the wand shop fell down. Large amounts of dust flew, and even some dirt on the windows fell and turned into dust. Wayne quickly put his schoolbag in front of him to avoid getting dirty.

"Professor, are you okay? Pfft! Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh."

When the dust settled a little, Wayne saw McGonagall's emerald green robes turned light gray. He couldn't help but laugh.

[If you laugh at the professor in front of him, you will get +10 points.]

Stupid system. Am I mocking her? Isn't it sympathy?

Wayne cursed in his heart. McGonagall's face was extremely gloomy. Fortunately, an old voice broke the awkwardness.

"Isn't the door meant to be opened gently? Why are you still... Minerva, it's you."

An old man with white hair and a beard popped his head out from behind the shelf. He initially scolded who he thought was a stranger, but seeing it was Professor McGonagall, a smile immediately appeared on his face. His ability to change expressions was unmatched.

"Garrick, your store really needs renovation," McGonagall said with a dark face. Ollivander just laughed it off and changed the subject.

"Minerva, you know, seeing you every summer is the happiest time for me. When you, Filius, or Pomona visit, it means a wand will meet its master."

He then looked at Wayne with his deep blue eyes.

"Little wizard, can you tell me your name?"

"Wayne Lawrence." Wayne announced his name and calmly moved away from a shelf. He had seen that one of the legs of this shelf was broken and didn't know when it might collapse.

"Ah, Mr. Lawrence, a rare surname. Are your ancestors Roman or French?"

"It's French, maybe, but we've been in England for many years."

The Lawrence family is indeed an old-time aristocracy that followed William the Conqueror from Normandy, and the surname Lawrence is more common in French.

"It seems your ancestors made the right choice. Not even the French would go back."

While Ollivander chatted with Wayne, a measuring tape automatically flew to the little wizard. What made Wayne's mouth twitch a little was that the conflict between Britain and France had even spread to the wizarding world, and they would take every opportunity to humiliate the French.

"It's outrageous."

"What's your dominant hand?"

"Left hand."

"Okay, let's try this."

After looking at the scale on the ruler, Ollivander disappeared for a moment and then returned with a large stack of wooden boxes.

"Child, you must remember that it is the wand that chooses its master. Only when the wizard and the wand have a perfect match can one unleash all their talents."

"Let's try it. Some young wizards are very picky, such as Minerva..."

Professor McGonagall's helpless voice sounded: "Fir wood, nine inches, with a dragon heartstring core, suitable for performing transformation techniques."

"Garrick, you always mention it whenever you see me."

"Forgive an old man for remembering things this way," Ollivander smiled and handed Wayne a wand.

With it in hand, Wayne felt overwhelmed with excitement. Following his instinct, he gave it a wave.

Boom!

A ball of white light erupted from the tip of the wand towards the roof, creating a large hole. His ancestral home was damaged. Surprisingly, Ollivander was not angry. Instead, his face was filled with joy.

"Amazing, amazing."

"This wand is not worthy of your future achievements, Mr. Lawrence. Although cedar wood is fit for smart people, it is too gentle. How about trying this one?"

"Dragon Heartstrings and Yew."

The wand in his hand was taken away, and another one was inserted immediately. This time, a blazing ball of fire erupted.

Wayne frowned. He disliked the uncontrolled display of magic power. The next second, the fireball vanished into thin air.

Bang bang bang!

Ollivander was even more delighted. "Mr. Lawrence, your talent is truly visible. Very few young wizards can control their magic when they first handle a wand."

"But I beg you not to force it. Just let nature take its course and find the most suitable wand."

Wayne had no choice but to nod, agreeing to stop interfering.

Even Professor McGonagall smiled. It seemed that Hogwarts had welcomed another little genius. She hoped he would be sorted into Gryffindor. After all, Slytherin had won six consecutive House Cups, which had worried her for a long time.

The boxes on the table were opened one by one, and Wayne tried various wands. From fir to walnut, from dragon heartstrings to Thestral feathers. 

Ollivander was fully engaged, mumbling to himself. He enjoyed picky customers. The more selective they were, the more unusual the wizard.

In the wizarding world, following the crowd can make one lose their individuality. Only wizards with unique characteristics and personalities can reach the top.

By the time Wayne became successful and famous, Ollivander would have the dignity of having sold him his wand. His grandfather had boasted about selling Dumbledore his wand for decades and had successfully outdone the other two wand-making families. 

Ollivander hoped for such a day when the other wand-making families no longer existed. When people mentioned wands, they would only think of Ollivander.

This trial took half an hour and nearly a hundred wands. Wayne remained calm. As a special point of being a time traveler, trying a few more wands was no big deal.

"Then, let's try this one." Ollivander took out another box.

"Handwood, unicorn feather, eleven and a half inches."

Wayne took the wand indifferently, and suddenly, a sensation of happiness washed over him.