HBWnovel Chapter 43 – Hoare's fated Wand
Chapter 43 – Hoare's fated Wand
Hoare stood in front of a shop. The last time he was here, he was very young, accompanying his parents as they bought a wand for Bill, who had just become a Prefect.
The shop was small and shabby, its golden sign peeling, reading: "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC."
In the window, a lone wand lay on a faded purple cushion.
"Ding."
Dumbledore pushed open the door and led Hoare inside.
The shop was small, with nothing but a bench in the corner, and a thin layer of dust covered everything.
Hoare looked around, following the line of wand boxes stacked from floor to ceiling, so high he couldn't see the top.@@@@
Ollivander said, "How curious, a student at this time, here to buy a wand."
"Oh, it's Headmaster Dumbledore."
Ollivander emerged from behind a curtain, revealing a glimpse of a workshop, likely where the wands were made.
"Ollivander, I'm here to help my student choose a wand," Dumbledore said, stepping aside to reveal Hoare.
Ollivander leaned forward over the counter, scrutinizing Hoare with wide eyes.
"How curious, how curious," Ollivander muttered.
Hoare didn't respond, his heart nearly in his throat, almost forgetting how accurately Ollivander could read people, which was why he made such intuitive wands.
Fortunately, Dumbledore didn't question Ollivander's musings.
Ollivander, seeing their lack of curiosity, didn't mind. He withdrew, muttering to himself as if debating.
He tentatively pulled out a wand and handed it to Hoare. "11 inches, holly, unicorn hair core, give it a try..."
Hoare took it and gave it a casual flick.
"Boom!" The sofa in the corner burst into flames. Ollivander skillfully extinguished the fire with a flick of his wand and took the wand back from Hoare. "Oh no, not this one."
He handed over another. "Try this one..."
Hoare took it as well.
"11.5 inches, made of ebony, with a thunderbird tail feather core, excellent for Transfiguration. I think it might suit you well." Ollivander's words carried a hint of meaning, and Hoare understood; he had probably seen through him.
This time, Hoare knew to test it gently with a light flick.
He felt that this wand was completely different from the previous ones, even from his old second-hand wand.
It felt as if it was naturally connected to him, fully understanding his intentions.
A gentle breeze blew over everyone in the shop, warm and comforting, a sensation everyone felt.
"This is it! 8.8 inches, blackthorn, with a dragon heartstring core. This wand only acknowledges the powerful. Child..." Ollivander leaned forward, eyes fixed on Hoare, "You must be a powerful wizard."
Hoare replied, "Thank you for the compliment."
"Blackthorn is a very unusual wand wood, suited for a warrior. And dragon heartstring can produce the most powerful wands. Their combination is one of loyalty and strength."
Hoare clearly saw that after Ollivander said this, Dumbledore's brow relaxed, as if all his worries had vanished.
He found it amusing, as if Ollivander was being used as his personal psychologist to analyze his character.
Ollivander withdrew with a smile, "7 Galleons, thank you for your patronage."
Dumbledore stepped forward to pay, satisfied.
Then, following their previous agreement, they went to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, each enjoying a large sundae.
Afterward, they returned to Hogsmeade in the same manner.
Fortunately, Hoare had prepared in advance this time, with a sour candy in his mouth, which helped him suppress the nausea upon landing.
After thanking Dumbledore again, Hoare returned to the empty Slytherin Common Room.
He had been out for just over half a day, and the school had already been redecorated by the house-elves.
Near the fireplace in the Common Room stood a giant Christmas tree.
Under the tree was a box and a letter.
Hoare picked it up, puzzled. The gift was quite heavy, and it wasn't even Christmas yet. Why was someone giving him a present?
He wasn't worried about taking the wrong one, as he was the only one staying at Slytherin over the holidays.
The sender—Lucius Malfoy? Draco's father? What did he want with him?
Hoare unwrapped the hefty gift, having a vague idea of what it might be.
Sure enough, it was a storage coin pouch.