A sharp Hogwarts

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander."

Dalia said cautiously, trying to resist the urge to look up.

The twinkling stars and lights in the sky are beautiful, but it would be different if it were replaced by a sharp knife tip.

"I'm Dahlia, Dahlia Dursley - this is my admission notice. It says that new students are required to prepare a knife."

As she spoke, she took out the letter and handed it over, shaking it unnaturally, "Can those sword lights above be made darker?"

During her shopping trip in Diagon Alley, the Hogwarts letter was more important than she imagined - many shops used it as a voucher to provide discounts and suggestions.

Hogwarts has seven grades, and each grade involves different knowledge, fields, and even the magic power and physical condition of the young wizards. For example, the Flourish and Blott Bookstore will very clearly refuse to sell difficult, high-level, and high-level wizards to lower-grade wizards. Or there are magic books that are dangerous: monster books for monsters, invisible books for invisibility... These are all on the banned list.

"Oh. I don't need to check this here... I'm just a knife seller."

Ollivander ignored the letter handed to him, and instead looked up and down Dalia with a creepy look.

"Yes, yes, I remember - your aunt once came here to buy her first magic knife - a standard magic chef's knife."

"It seems like it happened yesterday. It's a quarter of an inch long, the handle is made of willow wood, it makes a swishing sound when it's swung, and it's tempered with Kashmiri musk deer blood. It's a culinary magic weapon. It is a great knife that can separate flesh and blood fascia with delicacy and subtlety that other chef's knives don't have, which is very important in soup-like dishes."

"As for your mother...well, she's tried every magic knife Lily Evans gave up, and sadly none of them resonated with her."

"Of course it's not surprising, after all, Muggles can't sense the 'soul of the knife', but she did something that I still can't forget."

Ollivander walked up to Dalia, and Dalia hoped that he could blink a little. His pair of very light silver-white eyes made her hairs seem to stand on end.

"She tried to sneak away a magic knife that was left in the corner. A very impressive attempt, she almost succeeded-"

"It's a pity," Ollivander pointed at the ceiling, his pale fingers covered with small and terrifying scratches, "There are too many little ones who want to escape from here..."

"People like to say that they come here to choose knives - but in fact, it is the magic knives that choose the wizards who are suitable for them."

Mr. Ollivander was getting closer and closer to Dahlia, his nose was almost touching her face.

Dalia could even see her own shadow in the old man's cloudy eyes, and Mr. Ollivander's voice became softer and softer.

"Oh, it's impossible for a Muggle soul to wield a magic knife—"

Mr. Ollivander said meaningfully as he gently stroked Dalia's golden hair with his long pale fingers.

"Magic power is like a flame, blooming in the darkness, reflecting on the blade, reflecting a gorgeous and charming light... It is not only me who lights up the light of the blade above, but also you."

Mr. Ollivander raised his head and looked at the ceiling, carefully looking at the blades that emitted a faint light, and kept muttering in his mouth.

"It's just...it's too weird, it's really weird..."

"I'm sorry," Dalia took a half step back, a little further away from the nagging old man, "What makes you feel strange?"

Mr. Ollivander raised his eyebrows and stared at Dalia with pale, colorless eyes.

"Miss Dursley, do you know - what is reflection?"

"Mirror?"

"A very appropriate metaphor, but the magic blade is not a mirror - I just said that magic will refract light on the blade. But..."

Mr. Ollivander stared at Dalia with a very strange look, as if he wanted to see through her.

"The magic knife that can truly bring out the full strength of a wizard should be the Lightless Blade."

"When a wizard encounters a magic knife that suits her, most of her magic power will seep into the blade, like a sponge or biting into precise gears."

"On the other hand, the brighter the blade, the less compatible it is with the wizard - those magic knives on the ceiling are giving you the most straightforward voice of rejection."

"Of course it's possible that you rejected them subconsciously? The magic knife chooses the wizard, and the wizard will choose the magic knife."

Ollivander whispered thoughtfully, if he remembered correctly, those blades did not reflect the light at the beginning.

Otherwise, the surroundings would have been lit up long before he entered the store.

The time they gradually light up should be...

Mr. Ollivander pondered, his sharp eyes slowly scanning Dalia's face.

...The little witch raised her head and glanced at the ceiling.

"Oh, a picky customer, huh? It doesn't matter, I think you can always find the most ideal, perfect, and most suitable one for you here-"

"But I haven't tried yet -" Dalia looked at Ollivander innocently and said weakly.

"You just raised your head and glanced at the ceiling. Don't worry about that now."

Mr. Ollivander replied quickly, taking out a long tape measure with silver scales from his pocket.

"Okay, Miss Dursley, let me see...which hand do you usually use for writing?"

"Oh-oh, I'm right-handed," Dalia said.

"I understand, don't move around here now, I want to measure the size."

Mr. Ollivander let go of the tape, which hovered in the air, and began to measure along Dalia's shoulders.

Mr. Ollivander turned around and walked towards the pile of boxes on the side, walking between the knife racks while talking nonchalantly.

"Every magic knife forged by Ollivander contains super powerful magical substances. This is also our essence, Miss Dursley."

"We use unicorn blood, dragon blood, bird and snake blood to quench the steel, and the steel is also mixed with things like phoenix tail feathers, unicorn hair, and dragon heart nerves... After hundreds of folding and forging, they It will be integrated with the blade. Every magic forged by Ollivander is unique, because there are no exactly the same unicorns or dragons, let alone the exact same forging conditions. Therefore, if you use If you lose the magic knife that should belong to other wizards, you will naturally not be able to exert 100% of its capabilities - neither you nor it."

"Don't move! That's right - don't touch those knives on the side, just stand where you are and I'll get them for you!"

While Ollivander was picking the long box, as if there were eyes behind his back, he suddenly raised his voice and spoke loudly.

"In fact, you can hold a ruler against your head if you can, there's no need to stare at a knife on the wall - they're not for you."

"Oh." Dalia retracted her right foot that had not yet stepped out.

This is not an unnecessary disaster. Dalia looked at the silver ruler that automatically retracted and moved, and stood there helplessly.

In the original book, Harry could still try it out - even though it was a wand - but she just took a look at it, and now she wasn't even allowed to touch it? !

And this automatic tape measure...

Dalia always felt that this was Ollivander's way of delaying time and improving his professionalism.

At least she couldn't understand why the chest circumference, head circumference... and even the distance between the nostrils were measured when choosing a magic knife.

"All right."

At this moment, Ollivander suddenly made a sound, and the tape measure fell to the ground and rolled up into a ball.

"Then, Miss Dursley, try this knife. It is quenched with the blood of birds and snakes, and has a birch wood handle, forged with snake nerves..."

Ollivander took out a short chef's knife from the long box and said, "It's nine inches long. Try swinging it around - don't point the blade at anyone."

Dalia took the knife, imagined a piece of pork in front of her, and swung it cleanly forward.

whoosh-

Before Ollivander could react, the narrow wind blade flew out along with the knife.

Click, click—Zheng!