Hogwarts: Starting from Creating the Lord of the Rings

"Right hand."

Although this Ollivander looked a little weird, Hermione was not afraid and stretched out her right hand.

"Oh well."

Ollivander nodded, snapped his fingers, and a tape measure flew out of the corner and automatically measured Hermione's body, not even missing the position between the two nostrils.

In mid-air, there is also a quill and a notebook, recording data in swish.

Ollivander, on the other hand, went back to the back of the cupboard and began to search from the piles of wand boxes.

Artel looked at Professor McGonagall and asked softly.

"Why do you need to measure these when you buy a wand?"

"It is said that each wand must be a perfect fit for the little wizard..."

Professor McGonagall obviously has no confidence, and can't say clearly.

"But the little wizard's body grows every year, and it doesn't even take a year. Maybe these data will be inaccurate after three months, and... these wands are not made now, they have been made before, and now there is some discretion. late."

"Very clever boy."

Ollivander came out from behind the counter at some point, a wand box in his hand.

"But this sense of ritual is our respect for wands."

Ollivander came to Hermione, opened the box in his hand, and took out a wand.

"Grapevine wood, dragon nerve, nine and three-quarter inches! Try this, boy."

Hermione took the wand and looked at Ollivander.

"Wait a little, like this."

Hermione imitated Ollivander's movement and waved, and a genial wind was born out of nowhere, surrounding Hermione, and at the same time, a dazzling light burst out from the tip of the wand.

"A great combination, this wand has chosen you, vine wood is suitable for wizards with lofty pursuits and extraordinary foresight, I hope you will make good use of it."

After Ollivander finished speaking, he looked at Artel.

Hermione recovered from that wonderful feeling, fondling the wand in her hand, a happy smile on her face.

"Then, let's measure it first."

The tape measure flew again and measured it on Artel's body. The quill pen recorded it in the small notebook. Artel was a little curious. Did it record the measurements of many wizards from ancient times to the present?

After a while, Ollivander came out again and handed Artel a wand.

"Holly, unicorn tail hair, eleven inches... oh, put it down! Put it down!"

Ollivander was still introducing the wand calmly, but when Artel grabbed the wand, the wand crackled.

Although Artel had let go at the first time, it was clear that the wand was still damaged.

The holly stick was cracked, and the unicorn tail hair inside was burnt out.

"The terrifying talent, the evil magic, the tail hair of a unicorn can't even bear..."

Ollivander took a deep look at Artel and went back to the back of the cabinet to rummage.

Professor McGonagall frowned deeply, but said nothing.

It seems that Artel has an extraordinary talent in black magic, but he is a child after all, as long as he receives a good education at Hogwarts, there should be no problems in the future.

Artel turned around and found that Professor McGonagall and Hermione were looking at him, so he could only helplessly shrug his shoulders.

It must be a ghost from the Lord of the Rings.

The Soul Binding of the Lord of the Rings and Artel gave him an unimaginable dark power, and he also unlocked the ability of a necromancer, especially good at black magic and necromancy. Not surprisingly.

After a while, Ollivander reappeared.

"Yewwood, a material that symbolizes death, is very suitable for black magic. The heart of the staff is the hair of the Wetland Werewolf. It also has an unparalleled affinity for black magic. Twelve and three-quarter inches."

Ollivander confidently put the wand in Artel's hand, Artel waved it, and everyone seemed to hear a wailing.

"Oh, it looks like it doesn't fit either."

Ollivander took his wand back and looked at it carefully.

"The body of the yew wood stick has not changed, the core of the stick is damaged, and the Wetland Werewolf can't do it? Let me think about it, let me think about it."

Ollivander muttered and left again.

He felt a little distressed, the Wetland Werewolf's hair was not his usual material, and there were only a few Wetland Werewolf wands in his store.

"Sorry, I didn't expect it to be so troublesome."

Artel said apologetically to Professor McGonagall.

"It's okay, Artel, your powers are unique. A wand is a wizard's best friend. We need to be patient. Of course, you need to understand that it doesn't matter what our powers are, but the choices we make."

Professor McGonagall said to Artel with a smile.

Artel nodded, knowing that the performance just now made Professor McGonagall a little worried about him.

A student born in a gang family and born to practice black magic.

If he joins Slytherin again, I am afraid that Professor McGonagall will worry that he will become bad in his dreams.

"This one, it must be this one, I have a wonderful premonition!"

Just thinking about it, Ollivander appeared again.

He was holding a quaint box in his hand that looked old. *