Chapter 3: The Giant and the Boy

In response to Mr. Weasley’s teasing, Ollivander merely smiled politely and said nothing.

Although he had not followed the standard procedure, he didn’t mind much—he’d said it so many times that one more wouldn’t matter.

“So you’ve come this time to purchase a new wand for this Mr. Weasley, correct?” Ollivander looked at the smallest boy in the group.

The Weasley children were numerous; they visited his shop nearly every year, making them, in a sense, loyal customers.

“No, not at all,” Mrs. Weasley shook her head. “Actually, we want to buy a new wand for Charlie—he’s about to start working at the Dragon Reserve.”

Ollivander paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone, finally settling on the smallest boy’s hand.

More precisely, on the wand in his hand.

The wand was worn and battered, with patches of its surface peeled away, one end glowing faintly white.

Merlin’s beard, that’s unicorn hair!

Ollivander drew a deep breath—he had never seen a wizard’s wand so ruined right after graduation, worse than most wands used for twenty or thirty years.

Clearly, it had never been maintained, and its owner had cared nothing for it.

Ollivander’s expression darkened, his voice growing colder.

“Yes, I can see—dealing with dragons requires a proper new wand.”

He emphasized the words “new wand.”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley understood perfectly why Ollivander was angry; they both flushed, yet pretended not to notice.

For Charlie to work with dragons, a high-quality Ollivander wand was essential.

Fortunately, Ollivander said nothing more, merely giving them a cool, indifferent glance.

“But I must remind you—this Mr. Weasley is not a new student, so there will be no discount on this wand purchase.”

“We know,” Mrs. Weasley nodded hastily.

Ollivander nodded, saying nothing.

“Let me handle this,” Silven spoke up, sensing Ollivander’s reluctance to serve Charlie. “I’ll select a new wand for this customer.”

Under normal circumstances, Ollivander would never allow Silven to meddle.

Put bluntly, Silven was only eleven—he had no right to choose wands for customers.

But this time, after a brief hesitation, Ollivander nodded in agreement.

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Weasley seemed to exhale in relief.

She knew Silven.

Unlike most people who visited the wand shop only once every decade, the Weasleys were regulars.

They had met him when Percy bought his first wand, and again when the twins came.

This was their third meeting—neither familiar nor entirely strange.

Silven glanced at Charlie, then at Ron; a stream of data instantly appeared before him.

[Willow, unicorn tail hair, fourteen inches]

[Condition: Damaged]

[Property: Magic Weakening (a damaged wand reduces spell potency; replacement recommended)]

A standard wand, nothing special, no reference value.

“I heard you’re going to the Dragon Reserve?”

“Yes, I leave in a few days,” Charlie nodded.

“What about oak?” Silven mused aloud. “Oak holds strength—it favors resilient wizards. It suits dragons well.”

“For the core, unicorn tail hair is perfect for the Weasleys—no need to consider alternatives.”

“Length around ten inches,” Silven glanced again at the fourteen-inch willow wand. “Shorter than comfort improves speed of drawing the wand.”

Charlie’s thoughts were unknown, but Ollivander’s eyes brightened rapidly; the moment Silven finished speaking, he had already found the matching wand.

Oak, unicorn hair, ten and one-third inches—exactly as Silven described.

Ollivander handed the wand to Charlie.

He no longer cared about his anger—he only wanted to see the result. Seeing Charlie hesitate, he urged him.

“What are you waiting for? Try it…”

“Huh?”

“Oh!” Charlie instinctively waved the wand.

A cluster of blooming orchids burst from its tip.

“Perfect!” Ollivander exclaimed involuntarily.

Even by his most professional standards, he could find no flaw—this wand suited Charlie perfectly, even better than his old one.

Of course, he had to say one thing: this wand had chosen Charlie, even though he was a brute who didn’t value wands at all.

“Wonderful—I love it,” Charlie was equally delighted with his new wand.

Mrs. Weasley stood there, blinking in confusion.

Wait, already?

She was a longtime customer, yet this was the first time she’d seen a wand chosen so quickly.

Just a few glances—no measuring arms or shoulders, no testing other combinations—and it was done?

And Charlie himself was satisfied—he immediately slipped the wand into his coat pocket.

Seeing this, Mrs. Weasley said nothing more, gritted her teeth, and paid seventeen Galleons for the wand.

This was the true price of a wand.

Honestly, selling a wand for seven Galleons to a new student was barely enough.

Take Charlie’s old wand, for instance—just the unicorn tail hair cost nine Galleons; the specially treated wood for the shaft added another Galleon.

Fortunately, the Ministry of Magic gave each new student a five-Galleon wand subsidy, barely keeping them from losing money.

Ollivander’s Wand Shop had been crafting wands since 382 B.C., effectively monopolizing Britain’s wand industry, yet it rarely turned a profit.

After all, most wizards never wasted Galleons buying a second wand.

In the following days, Silven stayed at the shop to help, during which he met Hermione—Professor McGonagall brought her to buy a wand.

[Vine, dragon heartstring, ten and three-quarters inches]

[Condition: Perfect]

[Property: None]

A standard wand—of course, ninety percent of new wands were like this.

Over time, a wand would change subtly according to its user.

Like Professor McGonagall’s wand.

[Fir, dragon heartstring, nine and a half inches]

[Condition: Good]

[Property: Transfiguration Mastery: Magic cost for Transfiguration reduced by 50% (limited to Minerva McGonagall)]

[Transfiguration Master: Transfiguration casting speed increased by 30% (limited to Minerva McGonagall)]

[Insight: High probability of directly disrupting an opponent’s Transfiguration spell (limited to Minerva McGonagall)]

Three properties—all tied to Transfiguration, all unique to McGonagall.

This was a case of the wizard shaping the wand—if another person used it, these properties would vanish or be drastically weakened.

…

Soon, it was the last day of July.

That morning, Silven arrived early at the shop, waiting for a special customer.

But the entire morning passed, and he still hadn’t seen the person—he waited patiently.

Only in the afternoon, shortly after lunch, the shop door was pushed open from outside once more.

With a jingling bell, a thin, timid boy, looking like a frightened chick, stepped in—accompanied by a giant over eleven feet tall.

(End of Chapter)