Chapter 47: The Runaway Wand

For a wand, the choice of core is of paramount importance, but Silven found that he seemed to have picked the wrong core.

The core made from a troll's spine was not only extraordinarily hard, but also abnormally sluggish in responding to magical power — it had inherited every one of a troll's flaws — making the embedding process extremely difficult and the efficiency infuriatingly low.

According to Silven's original plan, he would have finished making the wand in at most two days, after which he'd still have plenty of time to complete the holiday assignment the professor had set.

But now… the entire Christmas holiday had already been sunk into it, and to avoid delaying classes after term started, he'd recently been sleeping only two hours a day and eating just one meal; when he really couldn't stay awake, he'd go to the school hospital and ask Madam Pomfrey for a bottle of Wakefulness Potion to tide him over.

But even so, that core only finally fused completely into the wand body in the wee hours of the very day school resumed.

In an instant, the previously separate wand body fused into one, began to shudder violently on the table, and let out a roar so loud it sounded like setting off firecrackers.

Silven instinctively stepped back, afraid it might suddenly explode.

But the next second he realized something even more terrifying… it was one in the morning — the hour when most people were sleeping soundly.

The roar woke everyone up; people came stumbling out of their dormitories cursing, every face wearing undisguised fury, swearing to drag out the bastard who had ruined their sleep and settle the score!

This wasn't hard — the direction of the sound was too obvious; everyone locked onto Silven's dormitory at once.

Someone stepped forward and knocked on the door, shouting for Silven to stop making noise.

But there was nothing Silven could do about it either; he opened the dormitory door and gestured that they could go try it themselves.

But no one went in; everyone even stepped back in unison.

Are you kidding!

Inside, a wooden club two feet long and as thick as a wrist was spinning like a windmill, and a sturdy table was reduced to a floor of splinters in the blink of an eye.

The bed and bookcase didn't escape either — they shattered at a touch, brittle as freshly baked cornflakes.

If that thing hit a person, wouldn't they end up black and blue all over?

"Gulp…"

A clear sound of someone swallowing came from the crowd; everyone took another step back, afraid the thing might come rushing out of the room.

Silven, mixed in with the crowd, kept shuffling backward too… he was scared too.

Fortunately, Professor McGonagall arrived just then.

She was wearing pajamas, clearly having been woken up as well.

Seeing a crowd gathered together at this hour, she was nearly driven mad with fury. "What on earth are you doing! Trying to wake up the entire castle?"

Everyone unanimously drew a line between themselves and Silven; the meaning was self-evident.

Professor McGonagall naturally noticed too, and frowned. "Ollivander? What on earth are you up to!"

Silven said nothing, just led her to his dormitory.

Then Professor McGonagall fell silent too.

"You're saying that thing… is a wand?" she pointed at the bat careering around the room and rubbed her eyes hard.

"That's right."

"Not a bat?"

"No, it's a wand. I just finished it."

Professor McGonagall fell silent again.

She kept trying to convince herself she'd just seen things, but failed; she knew she was wide awake now — awake enough to tell at a glance that the bat was over two feet long.

So Professor McGonagall decided to disperse the crowd first.

"Back to your own dormitories!" she barked.

Although everyone was dying of curiosity at this point, looking at Professor McGonagall's stern face, they still dragged themselves back to their dormitories, reluctantly.

A few bolder ones would pretend to close their doors, then peek out through the crack.

Professor McGonagall didn't bother with them, just gave her wand a sharp wave.

Something seemed to settle around Silven's dormitory, and after that, the other Gryffindors could no longer hear the roar; the castle fell quiet once more.

"You…" she glanced at Silven. "Can you make that thing stop?"

"I'll try."

With Professor McGonagall beside him, Silven had a bit of backbone; he steeled himself, walked into the dormitory, slowly reached out a hand, and quietly intoned a complex incantation.

Apparently tired out from its earlier rampage, the wand spun two more times, then went thump as it landed in Silven's hand… on the floor.

It was too heavy; Silven couldn't hold it.

Professor McGonagall's pupils contracted sharply, and the corner of her mouth twitched involuntarily twice.

That thing really is a wand?

Professor McGonagall drew a deep breath, struggling to steady her emotions, before saying, "Because of your recklessness, Gryffindor loses twenty points. Remember to restore this place to its original state!"

With that, she hurried off down the dormitory corridor.

By now, Professor McGonagall was completely wide awake; she just wanted to figure out as quickly as possible whether all this was normal.

As the perpetrator, Silven's word couldn't be taken at face value, and at his age he probably couldn't explain it clearly either… but the President of the International Confederation of Wizards, who was privy to countless secrets, could.

Passing the common room, Professor McGonagall glanced up at the time… nearly two o'clock; she hoped the Headmaster wasn't asleep yet.

From downstairs came the sound of the Fat Lady's portrait opening and closing.

No sooner had Professor McGonagall left than Fred and George sneaked over; looking at the dormitory in total shambles, both of them sucked in a sharp breath at the same time.

"Looks like a Gringotts vault that's been raided by nifflers," said Fred.

"Nifflers aren't this rough," said George. "What on earth did you do?"

"I don't know how to explain it either," said Silven, taking out his wand and aiming it at a pile of wood splinters.

"Reparo!"

Oh, that was actually a bed…

"Stop standing around watching, come give me a hand," Silven turned and said; there was quite a lot of stuff in the dormitory, and even with magic it would take him ages to fix it all alone.

"Well… alright then." Fred and George shrugged and joined in.

The three of them together had the dormitory back to its original state in less than half an hour.

After finishing all this, the Weasley brothers prepared to head back.

Then Fred stepped forward and patted Silven on the shoulder. "I think you probably need some time to think it over properly."

"Think over how you're going to explain to the headmaster tomorrow that you dismantled the dormitory," George said.

The two of them chuckled as they walked out of the dormitory, taking the chance to shoo away the others who had been gawking at the doorway.

Only now did Silven finally have time to look at the wand still lying on the floor.

【Oak, troll spine, thirty-two and a half inches】

【Condition: Perfect】

【Trait: Backfire: spells will rebound upon the caster (Stupid trolls always end up hurting themselves.)】

【Dullness: Records the first spell cast by the wizard; thereafter, regardless of the incantation chanted or the gesture used, all magic will automatically convert into the originally recorded spell (A troll's brain can only hold one spell, and its spine is the same.)】

【Iron Armour: Defensive-type spell effects +30%】

(End of chapter)