Chapter 116: Power and the Wand

The next morning, almost everyone knew that Lockhart had been attacked and lay barely alive in the entrance hall.

Rumors spread that he had been assaulted while drunk in Hogsmeade, upset over his mood; Madam Rosmerta, owner of the Three Broomsticks, could confirm this.

Lockhart had started drinking at the Three Broomsticks, then inexplicably went to the Hog’s Head, after which no one heard from him again.

No one knew where Lockhart had gone, what had happened to him, or why he had suddenly appeared in the castle’s entrance hall.

But the blood-written words on his body quickly sparked panic among the students, and his status as a professor added a terrifying dimension to the incident.

Rumors swirled through the school; everyone wanted to know what those words meant.

For several days straight, students debated who the Bringer of Power might be, who the Unforeseen Prophet was—whether one person or two—and whether they were even within Hogwarts.

And the Wielder of the Wand… was someone being attacked simply for holding a wand?

Many younger students, terrified, stopped bringing wands to class; only after stern reprimands from professors did they reluctantly slip them into their pockets.

Until the final weekend before Christmas, a single theory spread through the school overnight.

Someone had combined two pieces of information and uncovered a startling clue.

The Bringer of Power… the Wielder of the Wand… could it refer to a wandmaker?

Many knew the Ministry’s emblem was a wand and a capital “M,” with the wand symbolizing magical authority and the essence of power.

Isn’t the person who sells wands to every wizard the Bringer of Power?

And what of the third phrase—does it mean those holding wands must be wary, or that one must be wary of those connected to wands?

This theory quickly gained many supporters—and conveniently, there was an Ollivander at the school.

Even more conveniently, Silven Ollivander was the first victim of the attacks, and combined with the phrase “The beginning and end of all calamity…”

Wasn’t the first victim precisely the beginning of the calamity?

It matched again!

Suddenly, rumors exploded across the school, all eyes subtly turning toward Silven Ollivander of Gryffindor.

…

“Silven, don’t worry—we all believe in you!” In the Gryffindor common room, Fred and George walked over to Silven and clapped him firmly on the shoulders to show their support.

“We know you have nothing to do with that damn Chamber of Secrets.”

“Besides, Hogwarts probably doesn’t even have a Chamber of Secrets,” George muttered under his breath.

“It has nothing to do with me anyway,” Silven said. “The only Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts legends was left by Slytherin—do you think a Gryffindor like me could open it?”

“But they say this attack was meant to drive you out of the castle,” Harry said quietly beside him.

“Then it’s even less likely,” Silven set down his book. “If I’m the target, why attack Lockhart? Do we look alike?”

“No, of course not,” Harry shook his head. “I mean, I fully believe you’re not involved—I’m just worried you’ll suffer under the gossip.”

“What do you mean?” Silven looked at him, puzzled.

“You don’t know?” Harry was surprised by Silven’s reaction.

“What should I know?”

“Many now say that if you leave school, the attacks will end—so…”

Harry paused suddenly, then continued after two or three seconds: “So many are saying the school should expel you—expel you…”

“You haven’t heard any of this?”

“Honestly? Not a word,” Silven shook his head. “That was the first time.”

“Impossible,” Ron exclaimed. “I’ve heard that kind of talk several times lately—hasn’t anyone come to you?”

“No one has,” Silven spread his hands. “I have no reason to lie to you.”

“Why not?” Ron didn’t understand.

“Probably because they’re afraid,” Silven said calmly.

“Afraid?” Ron still didn’t get it.

Silven wasn’t some famous, powerful wizard like Dumbledore—he was just a second-year student. What did others have to fear?

If this were happening to Malfoy, he’d have no qualms about loudly voicing his opinion right to the man’s face.

“Because no one can guarantee they’ll only ever use one wand,” Fred said—he immediately understood Silven’s meaning.

“In Britain, Ollivander’s wands are the best,” George also understood. “If Silven refuses to sell a wand to someone in the future, they’ll have to buy a Gregorovitch wand abroad.”

“Including their children when they start school—they’ll have to go abroad for wands too.”

“The ones most likely to target Silven are Slytherins—but they’re also the shrewdest, and won’t risk it.”

“They’re probably stirring up others right now—those rumors floating around school? Slytherins are behind them.”

Ron’s eyes widened further—he seemed to have just realized Silven’s hidden status.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Hermione couldn’t help saying. “How could Silven possibly refuse to sell wands just because of a few words?”

“To my shame, I actually can,” Silven raised an eyebrow. “What you just described was my grandfather—he cared only for wandmaking, nothing else… but I’m not as generous as he was.”

“But you’ve reminded me of something,” Silven looked up at Fred and George. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Ten would be fine.”

The two grinned.

“Not ten,” Silven said. “Just spread a message—to those fools who haven’t realized they’re being manipulated.”

“Oh, we get it,” George winked at him. “We’ll deliver your message.”

“The great Silven Ollivander will one day take over his wand shop.”

Fred placed a hand over his chest and raised the other high: “If anyone doesn’t want to be forever barred from Ollivander wands…”

“They’d better learn to keep quiet…” George slapped his hand in agreement.

“Something like that,” Silven nodded.

“But Silven, I must say this won’t work on everyone,” Fred sat across from him.

“Some still don’t understand the importance of wands.”

“Hmm…” Silven thought for a moment. “Then add this: if this noise grows louder, I might raise prices when I take over the shop.”

“Raise prices?” Everyone sat up straight.

“But wands have always been that price,” Dean Thomas nearby couldn’t help saying.

“You know they’ve always been that price?” Silven’s temple twitched. “A unicorn tail hair costs nine Galleons—made into a wand, it sells for seven. Do you think that’s fair?”

“But the Ministry compensates you,” someone muttered.

“Five Galleons,” Silven’s tone dripped with contempt. “They calculate it perfectly—exactly the cost of one wand. And they drag their feet, making you wait a year to get it.”

He’d long wanted to say this—this was a perfect opportunity.

“Or you could ask elsewhere—twelve Galleons for a wand was the price three centuries ago. Now, a Gregorovitch wand costs at least twenty-five Galleons—more if you’re not a first-year.”

“The same goes for France’s Arcueil.”

Twelve Galleons for first-years, seventeen for others—purely because past Ollivanders had been subsidizing with their time and experience… or working for free for the Ministry.

The fact that new students paid only seven Galleons for wands had nearly become a badge of honor for British wizarding society at the International Confederation of Wizards.

Other Ministers of Magic were fine with it—each time they mentioned it, they’d include Ollivander, gaining reputation even if they lost money.

But shortly after Cornelius Fudge took office, he took credit for the “seven-Galleon wand,” boasting that the Ministry was paying for new students.

Under this, more and more people began to believe the seven-Galleon wand was natural—like Dean Thomas just now.

But Silven silenced him with a few words, and few around him supported Dean.

“Silven, I don’t oppose raising wand prices,” Fred licked his lips, his expression turning serious.

“But think carefully—if you truly had the authority, this would cause a massive uproar.”

“And it wouldn’t be limited to Hogwarts—it would shake the entire wizarding world.”

“Don’t be so serious,” Silven waved his hand. “I only said I’d decide to raise prices. I’m only in second year—decades away from taking over the shop.”

Hearing this, the Weasley brothers exhaled in relief.

As they’d said, they didn’t oppose raising prices—but if it were to be done, it needed careful planning, not just a careless remark… or Silven would truly become everyone’s target.

But if it were ten or fifteen years from now? That would be fine.

“Don’t worry—we’ll make sure your message gets delivered!” Fred thumped his chest, his expression returning to its usual mischievous grin.

“I think we should write it down and post it in the most visible spot in every common room.”

“Good idea—I’ll go find parchment.”

“I’ll find out the Slytherin common room password.”

The two rushed out through the passage, eager.

In the common room, Hermione seemed about to say something—but before she could speak, Silven had already gone upstairs to his dormitory.

…

(End of Chapter)