The White Lord Professor at Hogwarts

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

"I'm Cordry, Mr. Potter. I can't believe I've seen you at last."

"It's an honor, Mr. Potter, it's an honor."

"I've been looking forward to shaking hands with you - my heart is pounding."

……

Ricardo crossed his hands on his chest and looked at the scene in front of him casually: everyone in the bar gathered in the hall and shook hands with a little wizard happily.

The little wizard looked a little excited. Of course, his constant movements of holding the mirror made Ricardo see at a glance that he was still a little scared.

Behind him, a man about half the size of a giant stretched out his hands to intentionally protect the little wizard in the center of the crowd.

Yes, this is Harry Potter, the Savior, the legendary boy who killed the second generation Dark Lord.

"It doesn't look like anything special," Fleur, who was standing aside, couldn't help but comment, "He's just an ordinary boy."

"Do you still expect that an 11-year-old child really has Dumbledore's qualifications?" Ricardo replied, "The savior is just the wizards' words to comfort themselves. Anyone with a brain will know that the Dark Lord is with him. The parents died together.”

"Verbal comfort?" Fleur tilted her head, "What is this concept?"

"The death of the second generation Dark Lord was too hasty," Ricardo said in a sarcastic tone. "If the hero who killed the Dark Lord is already dead, then who can block his way?"

Fleur understood immediately.They need someone to rely on, even if this reliance is too ridiculous.

This is indeed a ridiculous reliance. Ricardo and Fleur thought at the same time that adults would give the task of defeating the Dark Lord to an 11-year-old child just because he had witnessed the death of the Dark Lord and the heroic sacrifice of his parents.

I used to rely on the centenarian Dumbledore, but now I rely on the 11-year-old Harry Potter. Is this kind of world... funny?

"what?"

Ricardo frowned when he saw a figure wearing a scarf gradually approaching the boy.

Chino Quirinas?

Why is he here and going to Harry Potter?

"what happened?"

"You go to the door and wait a moment, I have something to do."

Ricardo hurried downstairs, squeezed in next to Harry Potter, and silently took out his wand and hid it in his sleeve.

"P-P-Potter," Professor Quirrell stammered, grabbing Harry's hand.Ricardo looked at him and moved his wand.

"I'm indescribably happy to see you."

"What kind of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"Defense against black magic, and this gentleman." Professor Quirrell said vaguely, pointing to Ricardo who was looking at him.

Ricardo, whose name was called, smiled at Harry Potter and said nothing.

"You don't have to learn this anymore, do you, Mr. P-P-Potter?"

Kino laughed nervously, causing Ricardo to tighten his grip on the wand: "Are you ready to buy what you need? I'm also going to buy a new book about vampires. .”

Finally, the people around him became impatient and pushed Kino aside. Ricardo also breathed a sigh of relief, slowly walked to the door, and left the Leaky Cauldron with Fleur.

"What just happened, Ricardo?" Fleur asked curiously.

"It's nothing, let's go," Ricardo shook his head and wiped the sweat from his forehead, "It's just my job, to protect the safety of students."

Indeed, he did not dare to mess with the dark wizard who could dance under Dumbledore's nose, but as a teacher, he had the responsibility to protect the safety of his students.

But if he really wants to take action, Ricardo, who can write a book about his fighting methods, is really worthy of it. Coupled with the crowd and Hagrid, he is sure to capture Kino alive.

But he didn't see a fierce light flashing in Kino's eyes.

……

Ollivander's Wand Shop.

"Jingle Bell."

The shop is very small, with nothing else but a bench.

But there's a reason for this: Thousands of long, narrow cardboard boxes are packed densely in the store, like a tightly managed library.

"Good afternoon." A soft voice said, and at the same time there was a loud clicking sound, which startled Fleur and she quickly stood up from the bench.

An old man stood before them, his big pale eyes like two shining moons in the dim shop.

"Are you... here to buy a wand?"

He stared at Fleur and Ricardo carefully, and finally said firmly: "You definitely didn't buy your first wand here, right? There is no memory of you being 11 years old in my poor brain."

"Yes, we are from France," Ricardo replied calmly, "My wand is damaged and I need to buy another one."

Fleur glanced at Ricardo strangely. She had just seen Ricardo take it out.

——Ricardo is just in case, after all, the savior is coming, Hogwarts will face troubled times, and one more wand means more insurance.

He first went to Ollivander's store at the back of Diagon Alley, just to ensure that his gold galleons could buy at least one wand.

"Well," said Mr. Ollivander, giving him a sharp look, "if I guess correctly, your last wand was made by Gregovich, and he was a good wandmaker. .Although the styles he makes are never the same as mine..."

What kind of wand will I get?Ricardo was thinking while pretending to agree with the old man.

His current wand was indeed bought from Grigovitch, and he did not hesitate to smuggle it from France to Germany for this purpose.

Fir wood, thunderbird tail feathers, thirteen inches long. It is said that it can give the owner enough luck and incredible talent for transformation, which makes him far ahead in duels. He fought all over Sparton in the third grade.

So now that seven years have passed, what kind of wand can he get?

"Okay, sir, come on. Let me see," he said for a while before stopping and taking out a tape measure with silver graduations from his pocket. "Which arm do you use to use your wand?"

"I'm used to using my right hand."

"Put your arms up. Good."

He measured Ricardo, first from shoulder to fingertips, then from wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knees to armpits, and finally the circumference of his head.

"Every Ollivander wand contains super powerful magical substances, which is its essence..."

Ricardo listened helplessly to the elderly man's chatter, and Fleur couldn't help but snicker when she saw the hopeless look on his face.

I'm telling you, your descendants are finished, Ollivander!

"... Of course, if you use a wand that belongs to another wizard, you will never have such a good effect."

Mr. Ollivander was walking through the shelves, busy selecting some long boxes to move down.

"Okay," he said, and the tape measure fell to the floor and rolled up into a ball. "Well, sir, try this one. Made of beech wood and snake nerve. Nine inches long. Nice and pliable. Give it a try."

——Then he just waved it and was snatched away by the old man.

"Maple wood, phoenix feathers. Seven inches long. Good elasticity. Try it -"

——This time it was taken away before it could even be lifted.

"No, no—try this one. Made of ebony and unicorn hair. Eight and a half inches long. Very stretchy. Come on, come on, try this one."

"This one won't work..."

"Change this..."

Ollivander let him try one after another.This is simply a replica of the background of the courseware he searched for online: none of them fit his liking. He always felt that this one was suitable to complement the lecture content, while that one did not meet his aesthetic taste.

So he understood, but didn't want to accept it.

The wands that had been tried were piled higher and higher on the bench.But the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed.

"A picky customer, huh? Never mind."

Finally, when Ricardo got a purple-red wand, a burst of magic flowed out of his arm. He knew something was wrong and hurriedly pointed the tip of the wand outside Ollivander's shop.

"boom!"

A green light shot out from the head of the wand and hit the ground outside the store, raising dust.

When the smoke cleared, a small pothole appeared outside the store.

Ricardo took a closer look and saw that the hole was still expanding, and the unfinished magic power seemed to be corroding the ground and burying the soil in the air.

"A terrifying combination," the old man quickly recovered from the shock, but his face turned serious, "yew wood, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches long, eleven galleons. You will have a powerful wand."

This is well-founded. Ricardo has also searched for information and knows how powerful the two are.

The yew wand is said to have the power to give its holder the power of life and death. Although the dragon's nerves are said to be unstable and prone to accidents, the wands made from it are said to be the most powerful and the most dazzling spells.

but……

Both are also related to dark magic. Yew has a particularly dark and formidable reputation in the realm of duels and various curses. Wands that use dragons as raw materials are usually the easiest to succumb to dark magic.

Combined... I'm afraid this is not a sign of the devil!

In addition, yew wood... dragon heartstring... Ricardo couldn't help but think, could he call himself the purple shank dragon king in the future?

"Thank you very much." Ricardo nodded and handed over the corresponding gold Galleons.

"In my experience, what is certain is that the yew wand will never surrender to mediocrity or timid people." Ollivander stared at Ricardo with an inexplicable heart-burning look. "The most famous one is , that mysterious person who cannot be nominated.”

Fleur gasped, crossed her arms, and looked at Ricardo with a feigned vigilance.

Ricardo glared at her fiercely, his eyes moving around, not meeting Ollivander's eyes.

"I remember every wand I sell, sir. Yew, phoenix tail feathers."

"By the way, that tail feather has a brother, and he's still lying in my shop."

Oh, it turns out that Voldemort is the Purple Bird King... It seems that I am better than him?Ricardo thought shamelessly, avoiding Ollivander's gaze.

"I think you're going to do something great, and anyway, that mysterious person I can't name did something great—terrible, but something great."

Ollivander's moon-like eyes were fixed on him, as if in a plea - or a warning.

Many years later, when Ricardo stood in front of the dying Dumbledore, he would surely think of that distant morning when he went to buy a second wand.

At that time, he was a young man who had just successfully applied for a job. He was looking forward to his future life as a professor, so he bought an extra wand just to be cautious.

Then he drew this wand, which was extremely black from the body to the core, thinking that his mature thinking was enough to break the darkness and suppress the wand's preferences.

At that time, he had no ambition to become the White Devil King and only wanted to survive successfully.

But at that time, Ricardo felt that these eyes would be staring at him for a long, long time.