Chapter Two: Diagon Alley

From Kamar-Taj to Hogwarts Ripples of Dust 3156 words 2026-03-06 01:31:06

“Are you alright, son?” Sandrine patted Xiwen’s back, her voice full of concern. “Next time, remember to hold your breath before coming out, okay?”

“I understand, Mom,” Xiwen replied with a wry smile.

“Ah, the distinguished Lady Rozier and young Master Rozier! Your presence truly brings honor to this humble place!” At that moment, a somewhat scruffy-looking middle-aged man behind the counter noticed the pair, greeting them with eager enthusiasm.

Sandrine, as always when facing outsiders, wore the aloof demeanor of a pure-blood family, merely nodding to the man. Xiwen, however, paid little heed to matters of bloodline—coming from another world and influenced by the Sanctuary’s ideology of protecting all mankind, he regarded wizards and ordinary people alike as one.

He waved to the man. “Hello, Mr. Tom.”

The proprietor, Tom, beamed and bowed deeply to mother and son. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

Seeing that Sandrine had no intention of responding, Xiwen spoke up to spare Tom embarrassment. “We’re heading to Diagon Alley today to buy a wand. I can hardly wait, so I’ll be going ahead.”

Tom, noticing Lady Rozier’s disinterest in conversation, wisely refrained from pressing further, waving them off with well wishes for their journey.

The two went straight to the empty courtyard behind the pub—the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Once in the courtyard, Sandrine pulled out her wand and, counting from a rubbish bin nearby, tapped three bricks: up three, then two across. The bricks began to shift, first revealing a small hole, then gradually expanding into a wide archway.

Beyond the archway lay the legendary Diagon Alley!

Stepping through, they found themselves on a bustling commercial street, with Potage’s Cauldron Shop and the apothecary flanking the pub’s entrance.

“Would you like to have a look around?” Sandrine smiled at Xiwen.

He thought for a moment, then decided to head straight to Ollivander’s Wand Shop. “Let’s buy the wand first—I can’t wait any longer!”

Ollivander’s was tucked deep within Diagon Alley; fortunately, the street was not overly large, and in a few minutes they reached their destination.

The shop was small and shabby, its golden sign above the door flaking, bearing the inscription: “Ollivander: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.”

“Good morning, Mr. Ollivander,” Sandrine greeted as she entered, with Xiwen following politely.

The shop’s interior was tiny, save for a long bench in the corner. Thousands of slender boxes containing wands were stacked from floor to ceiling in neat rows.

The proprietor, Garvis Ollivander, was a gray-haired elder with thick spectacles, scholarly and meticulous in manner. Lifting his head from two piles of ledgers, he smiled at the newcomers.

“Lady Rozier, it’s been a while. Ah, and the young Master Rozier—so Hogwarts will soon welcome an excellent new student.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Ollivander.” Xiwen bowed gracefully. “I am here today to purchase a wand.”

“Of course, dear young Rozier. You shall find the wand most suited to you at Ollivander’s!” Mr. Ollivander replied with confidence.

At a tap of Ollivander’s finger, a tape measure flew down and began to automatically measure Xiwen’s shoulder width, arm span, and various other details. Nearby, a quill and a piece of parchment hovered in midair, taking notes.

“Do you favor your left or right hand?”

“Right, sir.”

“This is your first wand, I presume?”

“Well… if you mean one truly my own, then yes.” Xiwen silently excluded the old wands he had tried at home.

“Very well, try this one—walnut, dragon heartstring core, twelve and three-quarter inches. It’s perfect for innovators and inventors in magic.” Ollivander handed him a slender box and drew out the wand for Xiwen.

Xiwen gave it a casual wave. Though it didn’t feel quite right, its amplification effects were impressive, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how much more a wand could enhance and control magical power compared to a ring of power.

“Clearly, this isn’t your wand,” Ollivander declared, snatching it back and offering another. “Try this—yew, thestral tail hair, thirteen and a half inches. Better suited for those born extraordinary.”

Xiwen waved the wand, and a faint glow appeared at its tip; it felt promising.

Yet Ollivander seemed unsatisfied, producing another. “Good compatibility, but not ideal. Try this—fir, phoenix feather, twelve inches. It favors those who are focused, strong-willed, and occasionally forceful.”

Xiwen tried again, feeling as if this one was also a good fit…

“Ah, such a discerning customer.” Ollivander, unperturbed, continued bringing out wand after wand for Xiwen to test, and Xiwen cooperated, intrigued by the properties of different woods and the support each provided in spellcasting. Ollivander, meanwhile, was simply thrilled to encounter such a picky client.

“Ahem, Mr. Ollivander, has Xiwen not yet found a suitable wand?” Sandrine seemed anxious that her son still hadn’t chosen one.

Xiwen belatedly glanced at the pocket watch hanging from his neck, realizing it was already past lunchtime.

“Oh, such a demanding customer!” Ollivander smacked his lips with lingering excitement, then climbed the wooden ladder at the back of the shop. He returned with a slender box thick with dust.

“I believe this wand will suit you perfectly, Mr. Rozier—pine, fourteen inches. It typically chooses solitary, interesting, mysterious, and unconventional owners, and is particularly sensitive to silent magic. Its core is extremely rare—the tip nerve of a unicorn’s horn that I acquired for a great sum after an accidental death. Stable, sensitive, and spirited—one of my finest creations.” He reluctantly handed the wand to Xiwen.

Xiwen took it, immediately sensing something different. The wand seemed to accept any casting method without resistance. Unable to contain himself, he tapped it lightly, conjuring a golden ring with intricate patterns at its tip—the Ring of Raggadorr, one of Kamar-Taj’s most common spells and the foundation of many advanced incantations.

“Perfect! This wand couldn’t be more suited to you. Yet this spell is quite novel—unlike any magic I’ve seen,” Ollivander observed with curiosity.

Xiwen dispersed the spell with a smile. “Just a little practice, nothing worth mentioning.”

Ollivander clicked his tongue. “It’s hardly a trivial matter. To create spells and perform silent magic before even entering school—I’ve seen fewer than three cases in all my years.”

Sandrine, delighted to hear her son praised, ruffled Xiwen’s hair. “He’s always loved studying magic on his own, never spending much time with his peers. To this day, I haven’t seen him make many friends.”

Though her words were tinged with complaint, anyone could hear the pride beneath.

“Geniuses are always solitary,” Ollivander said with a smile, then his expression turned awkward. “Ahem, Lady Rozier, you know… This is not an ordinary wand. A single bag of unicorn tail hair costs ten Galleons, never mind the rare and powerful unicorn horn.”

According to Ollivander, every unicorn horn circulating in the market represents a unicorn’s death, and most unicorn horn products are fakes. The magic in naturally deceased unicorn horns dissipates with the creature, so only those from accidental deaths have the potential to become wand cores—hence why wands are usually made with unicorn tail hair rather than horn.

“Name your price, Mr. Ollivander,” Sandrine said.

“You know, I paid dearly for this unicorn horn and pulled strings at the Department for the Protection of Magical Creatures. It’s a masterpiece, one I never intended to sell…” Ollivander rambled at length, until he saw Sandrine’s impatient expression and hesitantly quoted a price. “…How about a friendly price—one hundred and fifty Galleons?”

Lady Rozier, in good spirits from Xiwen’s acquisition of a fine wand, didn’t haggle. She promptly drew one hundred and fifty gleaming gold coins from her magically expanded pocket and handed them to Ollivander, then took Xiwen and headed for the door.

Ollivander waved them off.

“Thank you for your patronage, Lady Rozier. May young Master Rozier enjoy his time at Hogwarts!”