Chapter 49: The Phoenix with Ruffled Feathers

Dumbledore's voice was still the same as before, gentle and calm, but for a single instant, Silven suddenly grew tense — he could even clearly hear his own rapid heartbeat.

It felt as though something ill-intentioned had fixed its gaze on him.

But the feeling came from nowhere and vanished in an instant, so much so that Silven was wondering whether it had just been his imagination.

But was it really just his imagination?

Silven looked up at Dumbledore; he was the same as ever, except that after noticing Silven's gaze, he quietly raised a hand and, hidden beneath his robes, pointed toward the area behind the door.

Silven followed the direction of his finger and was met by a pair of wary eyes.

Very well — now Silven knew what had been watching him.

It was Dumbledore's phoenix. For some reason, the big red bird had all its feathers standing on end and was watching Silven with great wariness.

"Headmaster, your phoenix doesn't seem very friendly toward me, but I don't think I've ever met it before."

He really had never met Fawkes before. By rights, a phoenix shouldn't be this wary of a stranger.

Could it be that Garrick Ollivander had forcibly plucked its feathers to make wands?

Possible!

"I should make something clear — my relationship with my grandfather is pretty average…" Silven said, looking at the phoenix Fawkes. "Whatever grudge you have between you, you can settle it yourselves."

Silven's tone was perfectly sincere, but Fawkes's attitude showed no change whatsoever.

"It has nothing to do with your grandfather," Dumbledore said. "The phoenix-tail-feather wands Garrick makes are all ones Fawkes gave up willingly."

"Then what else could it be?" Silven scratched his hair.

"To tell the truth, this is actually the first time I've seen Fawkes like this either," Dumbledore said, casting a thoughtful glance at the wand before him. "It might be because of it."

"The wand?"

"Yes, the wand," Dumbledore said. "Garrick uses tail feathers to make wands, but you're different — you used an entire spine… Fawkes might be warning you not to get any ideas about it."

"A phoenix's spine…" Silven smacked his lips and said nothing.

But that little motion made the corner of Dumbledore's eye twitch uncontrollably.

What on earth does that pursed mouth mean?

Does he really have that idea?

To be fair, Dumbledore guessed right.

Silven really did have, for one brief instant, that wildly impractical thought — but it was only a thought.

Because it was impossible. A phoenix wasn't like a troll — a phoenix could Apparate infinitely; as long as it didn't want to show itself, you would never be able to see one.

Besides, phoenixes could be reborn from their ashes, rising anew through the flames.

Thinking of this, Silven immediately straightened his expression and said, "I've never had any such thought, Professor."

Dumbledore blinked with great interest. If he hadn't noticed Silven's first reaction just now, he might actually have believed it.

But then again, he actually didn't mind.

Plenty of people had designs on phoenixes — among them potion-makers, healers, dark wizards… even alchemists like Nicolas Flamel. Having such a thought was only human, but what one thought and what one did were two entirely different matters.

Of course, Fawkes wasn't terribly fond of Nicolas Flamel either.

Still, Dumbledore also noticed that after Silven finished speaking, Fawkes's wariness instantly lessened quite a bit — at the very least, all its feathers had settled back down.

Phoenixes didn't have the gift of Legilimency, but they could sense a wizard's emotional shifts. Which meant Silven wasn't lying — he was completely sincere when he said that.

"Is this really a wand?" Dumbledore steered the topic back.

"Of course, I swear on the Ollivander name."

"May I try it?" Dumbledore asked, clearly eager.

He was curious — could a wand shaped like this actually be used to cast magic normally?

"I think… perhaps we'd better not," Silven said. "This wand can only cast one spell, and because it's so long, it backfires the moment you use it."

"Backfires…" Dumbledore asked, "You mean that if you cast a spell with it, the spell will rebound onto me?"

"…Mm!" Silven nodded.

The headmaster's office instantly fell into an eerie silence. Both Dumbledore and Fawkes were staring at Silven.

Although neither of them spoke, their complicated gazes could easily have filled a two-foot-long essay.

An Ollivander had made a wand that could only attack its user?

Ah, that would be wonderful — just find a way to sell these wands to dark wizards and Death Eaters, and the Wizarding World could finally know true peace… well, Dumbledore couldn't keep the joke going.

His mind raced, searching for what he ought to say to make himself look worldly and knowledgeable while also preserving Silven's dignity and his own poise as Hogwarts' headmaster.

But half a minute passed, and he still hadn't come up with a single idea. His usually prized, extensive learning seemed utterly useless at this moment.

Only Silven hadn't noticed Dumbledore's expression rapidly changing. Seeing that he wasn't speaking, Silven went on of his own accord: "I'm planning to give it to Hagrid."

"You don't like Hagrid?" Dumbledore couldn't help asking.

"No, that's not it," Silven shook his head. "We're very good friends — he even gave me a very valuable Christmas present."

"Then why…" Dumbledore suddenly closed his mouth. After a moment's hesitation, he still didn't say the words "why repay kindness with ingratitude."

He nodded stiffly. "Perhaps only Hagrid can bring out the full advantages of this wand."

He meant its weight and its hardness…

But really, it wasn't entirely Dumbledore's fault — mainly because Silven hadn't mentioned the most important 【Shield Charm】 property, which made the wand "look" rather mediocre and underwhelming.

Silven guessed what was going on at this point. He thought for a moment and said, "Actually, this wand does have its merits.

I've made troll-core wands before too. Based on my reasoning, this wand should be very well suited to defensive spells like the Shield Charm."

Dumbledore's blue eyes flickered.

"No wonder — what a very thoughtful gift," he said. "So it's settled on the Shield Charm, then?"

"Not yet. I want to see if there's something more suitable," Silven said. "Besides, I'm not sure Hagrid will like this gift — he seems to really treasure his old wand."

"A wand? Isn't that just an umbrella?" Dumbledore suddenly said.

"Ah, right, he treasured that umbrella very much." Silven changed his tune as well.

Almost forgot—Hagrid's current identity couldn't use a wand… And he had to be the headmaster, how cautious.

"Oh, it's lunchtime." Dumbledore seemed to want to end this chat, waving his hand to return the wand to Silven. "I only arranged a morning leave for you; don't be late in the afternoon."

"Mm, okay."

Silven left the headmaster's office with the wand, then glanced back down the corridor at the gargoyle that had settled back into place behind him.

At first, when Silven saw Dumbledore, he was quite nervous inside.

He was well aware of the trouble he had caused—late-night noise, dismantling the dormitory, making dangerous wands… No need to think about it, it was definitely against school rules.

At first he thought Dumbledore had come to settle old scores, but it didn't seem to be the case.

Dumbledore didn't deduct points, nor did he mention punishment like detention; it seemed he was simply interested in the wand.

Dumbledore was interested in the wand?

Silven didn't really understand.

Forget it… No extra punishment was a good thing, why overthink it.

……

(End of chapter)