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  "Hagrid, what is Quidditch?" Harry asked casually while lig his ice cream. That was what the slightly arrogant, bushy-haired girl had just mentioned.

  "Merlin’s beard! Harry, I fot how little you know!" Hagrid excimed, giving his rge, shaggy head a pat. "Quidditch is incredibly important! It’s a hugely popur sport. Of course, I mean, in the wizarding world, well, iire wizarding world, really."

  Hagrid probably did his best to expin the rules of this game, or sport, iail, but his ability to express himself was somewhat questionable, and his expnations were vague. More often than not, he emphasized how great his favorite team used to be, though their performance had deed i years.

  Fortunately, Harry grasped the cept well enough and mao get the general idea.

  Smag his lips, Harry thought about it and realized it sounded like basketball or football, but pyed on broomsticks!

  "By the way, wouldn’t that thin broom ha stu a rather unfortable spot when you rode it?" Harry felt a bit ed.

  "Hagrid, I want to buy a few more books. Some that introduce me to the wizarding world. I feel like I know far too little about it!" Harry shared the idea that had occurred to him during his brief versation with the girl earlier.

  "Ah, of course, you ! That was my ht! I reend a few books, like Hogwarts: A History, which is an excellent read!" Hagrid nodded repeatedly. "But before that, we still o buy the most important thing!"

  Harry raised an eyebrow; he kly what Hagrid was talking about. There was only oem left on the shopping list, and it was the ohat intrigued him the most, the wand!

  If there was ohing Harry was most excited to buy, it was undoubtedly his wand.

  Would it be a long staff, like Merlin’s in the ics? Or a spear, like Loki’s? Or maybe.

  Harry g the inner pocket of Hagrid’s coat and barely caught sight of the tip of a small red umbrel. He had seen many types of wands in RPG games, and in Neil’s memory, that one called Aegean World was even more bizarre.

  Now that he was about to have a real magical wand of his own, how could he not be excited?

  Under Hagrid’s guidahe two arrived at a small, run-down shop, though, to be fair, most shops in Diagon Alley had shabby exteriors, yet their interiors were surprisingly spacious, as if by magic.

  The gold lettering on the sign above the door was faded, clearly having hung there for quite some time. It read:

  Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.

  "382 B.C.?"

  Harry had no idea what historical period that referred to, but ohing was certain, whatever people lived in those times, they had absolutely nothing to do with the modern British Empire.

  Was boasting also on in the wizarding world? Harry thought mischievously.

  Through the window, Harry spotted a pale purple cushion with a piece of wood on top.

  If not for the fact that the proportions seemed off, he might have mistaken it for one of those iing utensils provided at ese restaurants in atown, chopsticks.

  This wand was a bit different from what he had imagined.

  Upoering the shop, Harry looked around. His first impression was that the pce was meticulously ahe most strikiure was the numerous t shelves, built specifically for ste, stretg all the way to the ceiling. Thousands of long, narrow boxes were ly arranged upon them. Judging by their shape, they likely tained wands.

  "Good m." A gentle voice sounded without warning.

  Both Harry and Hagrid fli the sudden sound. A very old-looking man, or wizard, stood before them. He had a pair of light gray eyes, not particurly striking but incredibly sharp, making them seem almost eerie in the dimly lit shop.

  It reminded Harry of certain noal animals.

  "Good m, Mr. Ollivander. Could you please make a bit more noise when you walk ime?" Hagrid muttered.

  "Pleasure to see you, Hagrid." Mr. Ollivander ignored Hagrid’s minor pint and smiled. "Oak, sixteen inches, a bit bendy? You were quite the particur er back then."

  "Your memory has always been sharp." Hagrid grinned sheepishly.

  "That was a fine wand, but it’s a shame they broke it, isn’t it?" Ollivander said regretfully.

  "Yes... yes..." Hagrid’s eyes turned slightly vat, and his hand instinctively touched the inside of his coat in an unnatural motion. In that very pocket rested the red umbrel. "But I still have it."

  "It’s good to keep it as a memento, but you ’t use it, you?" Mr. Ollivander shook his head before turning to Harry with a hint of hesitation. "I received the Hogwarts admission list for this year, but, that young dy, is she Granger?”

  "Haha!" Hagrid ughed heartily. "I've been looking forward to this moment all day, Mr. Ollivahis is Potter, Harry Potter."

  "Good m, sir," Harry greeted in a slightly hoarse voice.

  "Merlin’s beard!" Ollivander examined him closely, his eyes flickering with incredulity.

  "I thought so… Yes, you look a great deal like your mother. Boys often resemble their mothers, but it’s rare to see such a striking resembnce, Mr. Potter. Well, except for the eyes and hair, those are your father’s. Fasating, isn’t it?"

  "Yes, sir." Hagrid chuckled. "When I first met Harry, I had the exact same rea as you.”

  "Ah, truly a most anticipated guest." Mr. Ollivander appeared delighted, though his eyes were drawn, almost involuntarily, to Harry’s forehead. However, his thick fringe obscured anything from view.

  "I remember every wand I’ve ever sold. Your father’s was mahogany, excellent for Transfiguration, and he was exceptionally skilled in that field. Your mother’s, oher hand, was willow. Well, to be precise, it was the wand that chose them. You see, I’ve always believed that it is the wand that chooses the wizard."

  Harry blinked, an awkward yet polite smile f on his face. What else could he do? He couldly say, "No, sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about."

  The disade Harry instinctively scratch his head, ruffling his bangs, uionally revealing the lightning-shaped scar.

  ————————————

  Harry toyed with his wand, a faint headache creeping in.

  A urchased from Ollivanders had led to many things. He had also learned a name from Hagrid, Voldemort.

  Although Hagrid was relut to say much, the limited information he provided still left Harry uled.

  Voldemort had once been such a terrifying figure that people feared to even speak his name. Even now, Hagrid hesitated before uttering it.

  Voldemort had killed his parents.

  He had tried to kill Harry, but instead, he had died, leaving only a scar on Harry’s forehead.

  Because of that scar, or perhaps because Voldemort had beeed while attempting to kill him, Harry had been hailed as the savior who vanquished the Dark Lord, making him famous throughout the wizarding world.

  There was even a widely known title attached to his he Boy Who Lived.

  Harry wasn’t particurly fond of the title. He would have preferred something cooler, like The Mencholy Prince or Son of the Wind.

  But holy, did wizards even have on sense?

  How could a baby, who knew absolutely nothing, kill a powerful Dark Lord?

  There had to be some unknown reason.

  Unfortunately, Hagrid didn’t know, or perhaps he did but refused to say. Either way, there was no way for Harry to find out.

  So, he turo books. He bought several that weren’t on his required shopping list:

  A History of Modern Magic.

  The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.

  Important Magical Events of the 20th tury.

  Biographies of Famous Wizards in Modern and porary Times.

  All of these books tained some records of him, but the details were frustratingly vague. Most focused on how cruel and terrifying Voldemort had been at the time, and then, in a single sentehey stated that Voldemort had "met his Waterloo" wheried to kill Harry Potter and subsequently vanished without a trace.

  While reading these books gave Harry some uanding of the wizarding world, it didn’t ahe questioruly wao know.

  However, during this process, he came across a name, ohat stood out.

  Albus Dumbledore.

  Current Headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry had seen the name on his acceptater. But after reading about him, Harry was deeply impressed.

  "Holy crap, this guy is incredible."

  That was Harry’s immediate rea upon learning about Dumbledore.

  Every book that mentioned him was overflowing with praise. The most on descriptions included:

  Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

  Supreme Mugwump of the Iional federation of Wizards.

  Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

  Order of Merlin, First Css.

  And so on.

  Thinking back, even Hagrid had spoken of Dumbledore with deep admiration, his tone far more serious than usual. It seemed that this legendary wizard was truly revered in the magical world.

  The books also mentiohat there had been a Dark Lord before Voldemort, one whom Dumbledore had personally defeated.

  As for Voldemort himself, even at the height of his power, the only wizard he had ever feared was Dumbledore. Because of Dumbledore’s presence, Voldemort had never dared to attack Hogwarts, making it the safest p the entire British wizarding world at the time.

  Harry found it a little strahat someone so powerful had chosen to remain in a school as Headmaster, rather than being the Minister fic, the highest position in the wizarding gover.

  He’s powerful but ued in power.

  He seems too perfect.

  Are there truly perfect people in this world? Harry was skeptical.

  And when he saw Dumbledore’s portrait in his textbook, his doubts only grew stronger.

  Because this world-famous Dumbledore, with his long white hair and beard, looked eerily simir to Neil.

  And that Neil, had wao take over his body.

  ******

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