Chapter 2: The Golden Legend

"Hanna Abbott?"

Diagon Alley at the end of July was even busier. Silven, who was helping mind the shop, poked his head out and looked over the little girl with two golden braids standing at the counter.

"Sorry, but… have we met before?" Eleven-year-old Hanna instinctively looked up, trying to make out this young wizard who looked about her own age.

He was a very good-looking boy, his fair-skinned face carrying a bit of the baby fat peculiar to that age, his hair black, slightly curly, falling a little messily across his forehead, as though he had just finished an intense, thrilling Quidditch match.

Without a doubt, among the people her own age Hanna had ever seen, this little shop assistant was the best-looking.

But she didn't know him, and had not the slightest impression of him either.

"We haven't met before, but after this we might become schoolmates — I'm a first-year at Hogwarts too," Silven said.

"As for how I know you…" He reached over and picked up a kraft-paper register, flipping quickly through a few pages.

"Ah, here it is. Mr. Abbott's appointment yesterday, ten o'clock, to come into the shop and pick out a new wand for his daughter. Am I right?"

"That's right." A tall, broad-shouldered wizard stepped forward, facing Silven, his brow slightly furrowed.

"But I remember the shopkeeper here is Ollivander…"

"Ollivander Wand Shop. My grandfather hasn't sold this shop — that much is beyond doubt." Silven said it half in jest.

Hearing Silven's words, the man nodded and let out a breath of relief.

They had come this time to buy a wand for their daughter, who was about to go off to Hogwarts. Who would have thought that walking into the familiar wand shop, they would see a wizard they didn't know.

For a moment, the man even wondered whether the shop had been sold.

It wasn't that he was making a fuss — it was simply because, in his memory, Ollivander had never employed a single shop assistant. Whether making wands or selling them, he did everything himself.

It had been that way since his own school days, and had continued unchanged for decades.

However…

He thought again of how that young wizard had referred to Ollivander just now.

"You said grandfather just now?" Curiosity flickered across the man's face.

"Silven Ollivander." Silven held out his hand.

"Ah… a pleasure."

The man did not find it strange just because Silven was young; with equal seriousness, he held out his own hand.

"Judging by age, Garrick should be your grandfather, wouldn't he? Strange — how is it I've never seen you before?"

"Probably because very few people come back to a wand shop more than once." Silven shrugged.

"Ah, that's true enough." The man looked suddenly enlightened.

Indeed, a wand shop was unlike other shops. He hadn't been here in over a decade; coming today was only because his daughter was off to Hogwarts this year and needed a wand of her own.

"Bam!"

Just then, a fluffy, dishevelled head suddenly popped out from behind a shelf at the back, nearly bumping into another shelf.

"Mr. Ollivander?" the man asked tentatively.

"Customer…" Ollivander looked up. "A thousand apologies — please wait just a moment, I'll be right with you."

Carrying a dusty old box, he walked briskly toward the counter, muttering under his breath as he went:

"Found it. I knew I couldn't have been mistaken — after all, it's only been ten years…"

"What did you say?" Silven hadn't caught it and asked, glancing at the box already open in his hands. "Is this what you've been looking for the past two days?"

【Holly, phoenix feather, eleven inches】

【Condition: Perfect】

【Trait: Righteous Courage: Dark Magic -10%, Light Magic +10%

Disarming: Disarming Charm +20%

Twin: The same core gave birth to two entirely different wands; when they meet, a certain wondrous change will occur.】

Silven couldn't help raising an eyebrow.

He had to admit, this wand was truly extravagant — brand new and unused, yet already bearing three distinct traits, crushing ninety-nine percent of the wands in the shop.

If it had a colour, this holly wand would be at the very least a Legendary Gold. A premium piece.

Silven's eyes grew a little hot, but he knew perfectly well in his heart that this wand could only be used by one person — no one else could.

Out of sight, out of mind — Silven turned his head away and did not look at it again.

Ollivander blinked. Though he found Silven's movements a little baffling, he paid it no mind and quickly settled into work mode.

"Ah, hawthorn, eleven inches, dragon heartstring — that's right, isn't it? Everything feels just like yesterday…"

……

It was a pleasant transaction for both sides. Ten minutes later, the little witch Hanna, her new wand in hand, skipped out of the wand shop.

Ollivander, meanwhile, carefully recorded her name and wand details in a notebook — a habit he had kept for many years.

Silven's gaze, however, fell on that box.

"Is that a wand too?"

"Yes," Ollivander said, looking up.

"Is there anything special about it?" Silven asked, puzzled. "Worth digging out of the storeroom on purpose?"

"Special… you could say that." Ollivander thought for a moment, then nodded. "I have a premonition — the owner of this wand is about to arrive."

He looked quite mysterious, a gleam of impatient excitement in his eyes.

Silven had been about to ask more, but was cut off by a clear, bright ring.

The sound came from the bell hanging behind the door — someone had come in.

"No, Ron, we can't afford a new wand for you. I think Charlie's old one is perfectly fine."

"Fine?" a boy piped up in a shrill voice, waving his hand about. "Look — the unicorn hair's practically poking out…"

A family bustled in, arguing noisily. At the front was a plump witch, followed by a tall, thin red-haired man, and six children in all.

With so many kids, and all of them red-haired, Silven instantly confirmed their identities.

The Weasley family — only they couldn't afford a single new wand.

But with so many people coming in together, the already-not-large shop was instantly filled up, and it was very crowded.

"Looks like we've got a few too many people." The man who had come with them looked left and right. "Fred, George, could I trouble you two to pop over to the secondhand bookshop first and find Ron a set of first-year textbooks?"

"Happy to help, Dad." Identical voices, from two identical-looking twins.

They exchanged a glance, wearing a roguish smirk, turned, and ran out.

As for whether they'd actually go straight to the secondhand shop, Silven guessed the odds were not in favor of it.

The famous Weasley twins — how could they possibly behave properly and do something respectable?

"Dad, I want to go somewhere else too," said another person wearing horn-rimmed glasses.

"No problem, dear, go ahead." The witch at the front turned her head. "You can think about what gift you'd like while you're at it."

"I want a gift too…" the smallest boy muttered.

"If you can become a prefect too, Ron, I'll buy you a gift as well."

As they spoke, the group had already walked up to the counter.

"Good morning." Ollivander put on a standard professional smile.

"So glad to see you again, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley — how many times has this been now?"

"If I remember correctly, this is the sixth time," Mr. Weasley stepped forward. "And every time you can accurately name the wand materials for both me and Molly — not a single mistake so far."

Silven noticed that his grandfather's mouth, which had just opened, suddenly closed again, as if he had forcibly swallowed something back down.

(End of chapter)