Hogwarts White Knight

"13.3 inches, ash, unicorn hair core."

"12.6 inches, cypress wood, the core of the staff comes from the nerves of a dragon. He is really a violent guy..."

"14.1 inches, black walnut, core from the heart of a Welsh green dragon."

"..."

For nearly half an hour, Ollivander repeated this process.

——Take the wand out of the box, put it into Gawain's hand, and pat away any sparks or dust from his clothes.

"Not clever, not honest, not brave, not timid, not rigorous, not casual... Furious Gorgon, is this still a human being?"

He turned away and stepped on the tall ladder, muttering to himself as he once again selected a wand that might suit the little wizard. Depending on the material and core used to make the wand, the wand will have a different emphasis on the wizard's personality.

But even though he has been making staffs for so many years and has seen countless wizards, many of whom are so talented that they have left profound records in the history of the magic world, he has never seen such a ridiculous scene.

"Even the extremely picky one found his partner quickly."

Ollivander sighed and quickly put the thoughts about "that person" out of his mind. He stood on the shelf and turned to Gawain with a broad smile before continuing to select a wand that might be suitable.

Although that story was more than ten years ago, the wizarding world's fear of "that person" has not diminished by half.

However, Ollivander didn't know that his sigh, shake of the head, and that "kind" smile put great pressure on Gawain.

"Am I not fit to be a wizard?"

Young White's heart skipped a beat.

If he was really suitable to be a wizard, Mr. Ollivander should not have such a smile.

He had seen this kind of thing in Elsa's hospital before, and Wilson, the director of the oncology department, often hung it.

A kind smile.

To put it in a more intuitive way, it is...

"It can't be cured. Let's wait for death. Say goodbye."

And the behavior of the magic wands is clearly like saying "You are a good person, but it's a pity that we are not suitable for each other."

Feeling a little bored, Gawain stepped away from the counter and looked at the store carefully.

Perhaps it’s because the Ollivanders are a wand-making family with a rich heritage passed down from generation to generation. Although the store is small and the decoration is far from exquisite, if you look carefully, there are still many details to explore. .

"Unicorn tail hair, salamander skin, dragon scales, and what is this...Kaba's larvae?"

Gawain looked at the wall facing away from the counter, with two rows of wooden shelves nailed to it. On the shelf, there are scattered glass jars with various materials in them. Small slips of paper with very scrawled fonts are affixed to them to mark the contents.

Under the shelf, there are densely packed small wood chips, perhaps used as samples of wand materials.

Just a rough count, there are no less than thirty types.

"Ok?"

Just as Gawain was carefully looking at the wall, he suddenly heard an obviously curious hum.

"Elsa, what's wrong?"

Gawain turned to his mother and saw a blank expression on her face. It was obvious that she was not the one who made the sound just now. But Gawain was equally convinced that the voice did not come from Mr. Ollivander.

Looking behind the shelf from his angle, Ollivander was stretching his arms with difficulty, trying to reach a slender box in the corner, while letting out a low gasp like a bullfight.

"What is that?"

Gawain's eyes moved around the store, but no one came in. But he had a strange feeling that something was watching him not far away.

Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"Gawain, what are you doing?"

Gawain turned his head subconsciously and saw Elsa's worried face.

He could have sworn that just a moment ago, Elsa was still sitting on the bench playing with the wizard hat!

"Is there anything in this window?"

Seeing Gawain's expression, Elsa asked suspiciously. Only then did Gawain realize that he had inadvertently stood in front of the only window in the store, with his right hand already attached to the glass.

"Ah."

Right next to his ear.

A somewhat joking voice sounded!

"Ok?"

Gawain replied subconsciously.

"Ok!"

The inexplicable voice sounded a little excited, as if he was nodding his head vigorously.

In Gawain's hand that was pressed against the glass, a wand suddenly appeared! It is very slender, with a short piece of silver metal at the end as a handle, carved with an eagle-like texture.

It was the one Ollivander had placed in the window, upholstered in purple velvet.

Its entire body is as pure black as obsidian, and it exudes a sense of coolness. It doesn't feel like wood, but like...

"jade?"

Gawain guessed that he could feel that there was a vague connection between himself and the wand.

This connection was like blood. He seemed to be able to feel the subtle emotions of the wand, and there was a faint heat connecting him to the wand.

"Merlin's cardigan!"

While Gawain was studying this strange connection, a sound of "clang, bang, clang" sounded.

Gawain turned around with difficulty, and found Mr. Ollivander, who had just walked out from the counter, looking at him with dumbfounded eyes, holding two or three boxes in his arms.

There were more boxes scattered at the feet.

"Well...it came to me first."

Gawain felt a little embarrassed, he knew what this scene looked like.

——The naughty kid took advantage of the boss's absence to sneak out other people's items that were not for sale, but was caught red-handed.

What's worse is that the bratty person who plays the protagonist of this story seems to be...himself.

Thinking of this, in order to clear away the suspicion, Gawain spread his hands and wanted to put down the wand in his hand. But the wand seemed to be strong, clinging tightly to his palm, unable to shake it off.

"Bang, bang."

The remaining boxes in Ollivander's arms also fell to the ground.

For a moment, the old wand maker shook his head as if relieved, and took out a short wand from his pocket.

He drew a simple arc in the air, and the wand boxes that had fallen on the floor floated, and he stacked them neatly behind the counter. Then he pointed to the bench, and a tea table appeared beside it.

"Uh, this...", the old man turned his head.

"Gawain White," Elsa added.

"Thank you, sorry." Ollivander smiled gratefully, "Mr. White, if you don't mind, could you sit down with me and have a cup of tea? I have a story I want to share with you about your wand. .”

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