8 Ethan's Wand

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Dumbledore and Ethan who just received his salary, strolled out of Gringotts towards Ollivander's Wand Shop. As they passed a candy store emanating a rich, creamy fragrance, Dumbledore's eyes suddenly lit up.

"Professor Ethan, please wait for me for a while," he exclaimed, squeezing excitedly into the candy shop.

Upon emerging, Dumbledore held a collection of dark candies, and Ethan noticed they were still squirming.

"Care for one? This is my favorite, called a Cockroach Pile," Dumbledore enthusiastically offered.

Peering into the bag, Ethan saw lifelike cockroach-shaped candies, unsettlingly crawling back and forth.

"Here's one, thank you," Ethan said, pulling out a candy that, even in his hand, squirmed realistically, attempting to escape.

Putting the candy in his mouth, Ethan found it stopped moving instantly. Surprisingly delicious, the Cockroach Pile had a coffee powder shell, bursting with sweet chocolate sauce—an unexpected taste sensation.

"Oh my God, this tastes incredible" Ethan exclaimed.

"Many miss this delight due to its terrifying appearance," Dumbledore sighed.

Overwhelmed by Diagon Alley's various shops, Ethan soon reached a dilapidated shop.

Ollivander's Wand Shop appeared crowded, cramped, and shabby. A wand on a faded purple cushion displayed in the window read, "Excellent wands since 382 BC," and the door sign peeled off. Dumbledore pushed open the door, entering with Ethan, revealing a small, dusty shop with countless narrow boxes of wands.

"Welcome, Professor Dumbledore!" Ollivander, with slightly messy hair and silver-white glasses, exclaimed from a pile of boxes. Eyeing Ethan's two long swords, Ollivander's keen memory recognized even wands sold decades ago.

"Here to fix a wand, Mr. Dumbledore? Can I help this gentleman?" Ollivander asked, focusing on the two long swords.

"I'm helping Ethan, the new Hogwarts professor, choose his first wand," Dumbledore explained with a smile.

"Very well. It's the wand that chooses the wizard, not the other way around," Ollivander stated sternly, taking out a long silver tape measure. "Professor Ethan, which arm do you use for spellcasting?"

"Left hand, I hold the sword with my right hand," Ethan explained as Ollivander scrutinized the two long swords behind him.

"Ah, I see. Please, raise your arms," Ollivander requested.

The silver tape measure autonomously measured Ethan, from wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and finally, it circled his head before flying back to Ollivander's hand.

Ethan, intrigued by the purpose of these measurements for ready-made wands, refrained from asking. "The combination of willow and dragon heart, twelve inches long. A powerful wand, give it a try, Mr. Ethan," Ollivander suggested.

Waving the wand lightly, Ethan witnessed a dazzling spark shooting from the tip. "Not the right fit for you, Mr. Ethan," Ollivander concluded.

Handing Ethan another wand, a flick produced a beam of light that pierced a hole in the opposite cabinet. "Not this one either," Ollivander regretfully admitted.

Ethan tried one wand after another, but none proved suitable. As time passed, Ollivander's forehead glistened with sweat.

It was Dumbledore's third time going out for snacks. This time, he returned with a bowl of strawberry-flavored ice cream sprinkled with icing sugar.

"You're a selective one, Mr. Ethan," Ollivander remarked, wiping his forehead. "It's not your fault. Please, follow me."

Ignoring the stacked wands on the counter, Ollivander led Ethan to the basement. Dark and illuminated only by an old oil lamp, the basement held stacks of wand boxes. Ollivander rummaged through a tall cabinet, causing dust to fill the air.

"Aha, here it is," Ollivander exclaimed, handing Ethan a weathered box wrapped in thin wires.

It took a while to untangle the wires, revealing the true state of the box. Inside was a white wand. "Exactly! An attempt by the Ollivander ancestors. Unfortunately, this wand never found the right host."

"The staff's body is the Yew wood, and the core is Griffin's Heartstring" Ollivander explained, lowering his voice at the mention of a griffin.

When Ethan held the wand, an indescribable feeling filled him as if the wand was a natural extension of his arm. The wand emitted bursts of cold air, causing Ollivander to sneeze.

"Haha, it's perfect for you, Mr. Ethan. This wand has been with the Ollivander family for hundreds of years, and today it finally found a suitable owner," Ollivander exclaimed.

Exiting the basement, they returned to the front desk. The Centennial Wand had finally found its rightful owner, and Dumbledore congratulated Ollivander and Ethan.

The wand, without the Hogwarts subsidy, cost twenty Galleons. Ethan gladly paid the bill. Ollivander elated that the wand had found its owner, generously provided Ethan with a set of wand maintenance—a year of free repairs and upkeep for the wand.

Finally bidding farewell to Ollivander, Ethan left the wand shop with Dumbledore, who was holding the remnants of his snacks while waiting for Ethan.