Wands. A whole mountain of wands.
When Andrew stepped into the shop, he was immediately struck by the sight — the place looked more like an armory than a store.
'There's enough here to outfit an entire wizard army…'
He couldn't even begin to estimate how many wands there were, but judging by the wall of wand boxes in front of him, there had to be at least a thousand, at minimum.
As he tried to mentally calculate the number of wands in the store, the soft chime of a bell rang out from somewhere deeper inside.
Soon, an elderly man appeared.
"A new customer," the man said, glancing at Andrew before noticing Professor McGonagall behind him. His smile immediately brightened. "Ah, Minerva! Good morning — what a pleasure to see you."
But the pleasantries ended almost before they began. The old man abruptly shifted the topic, as if deliberately doing so.
"Well then — a brand-new wand! Yes, yes, an absolute necessity."
He turned back to Andrew. "A new student of Hogwarts, are you? I am Ollivander. And what may I call you?"
"Andrew Taylor." Andrew smiled politely. "So I get to choose my partner from all of these?"
"Indeed. The best and most loyal partner you'll ever have."Ollivander's smile grew even more radiant — clearly, he appreciated those who treated wands with reverence.
"Wonderful," Andrew said, clearly excited. He raised his right hand and, just as he had practiced many times in the orphanage, he spread his magic outward and grasped at the air.
One of the long wand boxes quivered, then slid free from the shelf. It floated slowly but purposefully toward him — and in the final few feet, it passed right through a wooden case and landed directly in his hand.
He gripped the wand tightly. It felt right, as if it belonged in his hand all along. A strange sensation spread up from it — not like he was holding something, but as if his arm had just extended farther than usual.
"Amazing…"
Andrew murmured in awe. He stroked the wand with his left hand, his magic flowing into it like water. Instinctively, he pointed the wand at the ground. A soft blue glow flowed from its tip — and in an instant, the wooden floor transformed into a patch of grass. Fresh, soft, and lush — it was impossible to tell what the ground had looked like just moments ago.
"This is perfect," Andrew said, stunned. "Now I understand what you meant, Professor."
"Truly remarkable," Ollivander agreed. "Absolutely perfect. Such a match only comes once every ten… maybe twenty years."
"Acaia wood, dragon heartstring, eleven inches… a very picky combination — but also an extraordinarily powerful one, Mr. Taylor."
"But," the old man continued with a sigh, "as an old man, I must say I don't recommend choosing a wand this way. Other wands in this shop may not have been quite as well-suited, but in response to your magical summons, they would've tried to protect their boxes — that can be dangerous."
Professor McGonagall looked a bit embarrassed. In most wizarding families, children were told stories about how wands were selected. But students from Muggle families rarely — if ever — had enough magical development to attempt something like this. Andrew, however, had managed to summon a wand directly — something Muggle-borns simply didn't do.
After a hasty apology to Ollivander, McGonagall quickly ushered Andrew out of the shop. She was already thinking: This child might just end up in Gryffindor…
And the thought only made her more flustered.
"I'm sorry, Professor," Andrew said quietly. "I thought summoning meant using magic to find the wand that matched me best."
He really did feel a little guilty.
He had read too many novels and simply assumed that "summoning one's partner" meant magically calling out to the wand that suited him most. How was he supposed to know the proper process was opening box after box to test them one by one?
According to McGonagall's explanation, they normally measured certain proportions first, then gradually tested the matching wands in person — he had skipped that entirely, yanked his wand out like he was raiding the store, and left beaming like nothing was wrong…
"Well, it's not entirely your fault," McGonagall replied calmly. "Now come, it's getting late. I need to take you back. I have to visit another family this afternoon and take them shopping in Diagon Alley as well."
"Alright. Thank you, Professor."
After dropping Andrew off at the orphanage, McGonagall quickly departed. Andrew asked around a bit and learned that not many students were recruited from the non-magical world — which meant McGonagall would likely be stationed in Diagon Alley for several more days.
That worked out fine for Andrew, since he'd need to return there anyway — his bigger problem right now was…
He was broke.
Yes… totally out of money.
Even secondhand books were ridiculously expensive, which meant that aside from familiarizing himself with the magical world, he now had to find a way to earn enough to make another trip to Diagon Alley — and to cover his travel costs to London.
Spending Galleons would require earning Galleons. But given how pricey the reference books were, Andrew decided to visit the secondhand bookshop one more time before deciding what jobs to take on.
But all of that could wait.
Even reviewing his textbooks and learning about the wizarding world could wait.
Right now, the most urgent thing was to return to his room and write everything down from the morning's conversation — so he could review it in the future.
"Andrew!"
As he was mentally reviewing his plans, a voice rang out that made his teeth ache.
Oh no…
I got so excited earlier I forgot to buy food…
Sure enough, a group of sweaty, muddy-faced kids came running toward him. Andrew scanned them — they weren't too out of control. Their clothes were still the usual old rags, but at least they were clean. No signs of deliberately making a mess.
"Granny said that professor lady took you away!"
"Yeah! Said you were being dragged off to some boarding school!"
"I wasn't dragged off — I got accepted. I went to get my school robes and books today."He lifted the bag in his left hand. "See? This is it. There are some fragile items in here, so I need to put everything away first and organize my books. I'll take you all out to play this afternoon."
He paused, then added, "You guys go on ahead first. Everyone gets an ice cream later."
That generous promise stopped the grubby hands that were just about to start rummaging through his bag for snacks.
A chorus of excited "OK!"s rang out, and the energetic little gremlins bolted away.
"Alright, let's get to work."
Smiling and shaking his head, Andrew sat down and began recording the morning's conversations using his shorthand notes. After checking it over, he pulled a knife and some glue from his drawer — he'd be going out this afternoon, and the magical world books definitely needed some disguise covers.