Chapter 4 Origin

Ding!

It sounded like a wind chime.

Meka Anders pushed open a shabby door and walked into the wand shop.

This Ollivander's wand shop looked very old.

The golden sign at the door had long been peeling off and seemed to fall off at any time. Inside, there were rows of shelves with various wands, which were covered with dust and looked white.

"Who?"

The owner walked out from behind the shelves.

This was an old man with silver hair like frost.

He wore a pair of glasses with thick frames and a very light white beard at the corners of his mouth.

His glasses seemed to be fogged up, so he took them off and wiped them with his sleeve. At this time, Meka saw that he had a pair of silver eyes.

"Another freshman."

Ollivander squinted his eyes, looked at Meka, and put his glasses back on.

He walked to the counter and said with emotion:

"A young man just left. Young people nowadays are really amazing."

"Are you buying a wand too, kid?"

Meka saw a layer of sawdust on him and guessed that he was cleaning. He looked at the corner again. The container there seemed to have been hit by a rhinoceros, and the wood was broken all over the floor.

A young man just left, Harry?

Meka smiled and nodded:

"Yes, he wants to buy a wand."

"Let me see."

Olivander looked at Meka again, as if he was measuring what kind of wand would suit him.

He touched the short white beard on his chin, thought for a while, and took the wand on the shelf behind him.

The wand was placed on the counter.

It was shiny brown all over, with some small carvings on it, like some kind of animal.

Ollivander said to himself:

"Mahogany, unicorn hair core, eleven inches long, a very tough wand."

"Try it."

Meka grabbed the mahogany in his hand.

The wand felt a little cool, like the water in an autumn pond.

Because the wand was very smooth, Meka felt that he was not holding a piece of wood, but some kind of smooth feather.

But nothing happened.

At Ollivander's eye signal, Meka picked it up and waved it, but there was still no reaction.

"It seems inappropriate."

Olivander frowned, raised his head and looked around, as if looking for the next wand.

He found a wooden ladder, moved it to the shelf on the left, and then staggered up and took down a box.

"Put it on the counter for me." Ollivander gestured.

Meka quickly freed his hands to take it.

He stood on tiptoe and took the box, and the broken wand in the lining of his clothes happened to fall out.

The wrapping cloth also fell apart, making the wand appear in front of Ollivander.

"Oh? Broken wand?"

Olivander narrowed his eyes subconsciously.

He came down from the wooden ladder and squatted in front of the old wand to take a look.

"Holly wood, ten and a quarter inches, the inner core is snake nerves, and the pattern on it is a bit old."

"Let me think."

Olivander frowned for a while, and soon relaxed.

"Oh, when I was young, I sold it to a kid who smelled strange, um, the smell of rotten cabbage."

"The smell is very strong, I guess he poured the failed polyjuice potion on his clothes."

Meka was a little surprised.

He didn't expect Ollivander to be able to associate the identity of its owner with a broken wand.

Polyjuice potion? Is that person making potions?

Meka put the box on the counter and asked casually:

"Is this person famous? Do you still remember him?"

"Famous?"

Olivander shook his head,

"He is just a child with high ambitions. He came to me to repair his wand several times, but unfortunately, he has poor talent."

"Oh? High ambitions?"

"Yes." Ollivander picked up the wand from the ground:

"He wants to be a person like Nick Flamel. Although he has poor talent, he is a very hard-working child."

Meka was inevitably surprised when he heard the name Nick Flamel.

This is a legendary alchemist.

It is said that he once relied on his alchemy technology to live for more than 600 years. He was a terrifyingly long-lived person.

A little wizard with poor talent, who took Nick Flamel as his target, was indeed a person with ideas and goals.

Olivander wrapped the broken wand with cloth and returned it to Meka.

"Keep it well, don't lose it."

Meka took it and put it back in the lining of his clothes.

Ollivander picked up the exquisite box on the counter, opened it, and took out another wand that looked like a work of art.

"Willow, eleven inches long, with a dragon's heart as the core. Willow symbolizes dreams and illusions."

"Well, this is a flexible wand."

Meka took it in his hand.

The wand fits the hand very well.

Compared to the mahogany wand just now, this wand was as cold as ice as soon as it was taken over.

It has different sizes at both ends. The larger end is engraved with more complex patterns, like a vortex, which makes people dizzy. The smaller end has slightly prominent patterns, which feels like the touch of human skin.

"Wave it."

Ollivander suggested.

Meka nodded.

He stretched out the wand towards a place where no one was, and paused for a while.

It seemed that nothing happened.

Meka glanced at Ollivander.

Ollivander gestured with his chin:

"Try again."

Meka nodded, turned her wrist, and moved her wand in the air.

A gust of wind rang the doorbell.

Meka's forehead felt slightly cold, as if ice water was dripping.

A magical and warm power emerged from the hand holding the wand, like wind, and Meka felt the hair on her right hand being blown by the wind.