3 Chapter 3

The moment I took the offered hand, I'll remember it for a long time because the next moment my eyes went black, and I was squeezed from all sides at once. I couldn't breathe — my chest felt like iron hoops, my eyes felt like they were squeezed inside my skull, my eardrums sagged. It was all over in a flash, and we were standing outside a pub. 

"What was that? And you wanted a drink?" I couldn't help but ask the professor standing next to me. 

Minerva McGonagall only arched her right eyebrow in a mute question, "Did you really ask that?" 

"No, Mr. White. I didn't want a drink; this is one of the first entrances to Slanting Lane. But what I did was called transgression, a skill you'll start learning in your sixth year." 

The Hole Cauldron is a tiny, unassuming bar with a small hotel on top, located in central London. 

"Do other people see this place?" I asked, looking at the strangely dressed individuals passing by. 

"Not if you mean Muggles. Muggles don't notice that there's something else on the street between the big bookstore and the flower store." 

"Is that magic, too?" I managed to ask before we entered the bar. 

As we walked in, I saw a very dark and shabby bar. It looked like it had been built a couple or three centuries ago. 

"Are you sure this is the place?" I had to sigh when I got a stern look in return. 

As I looked around, I saw a wide variety of rabble, all busy doing what they were doing. Some were drinking tea, others something stronger. Some were dressed rather richly, some not so much. Some looked like a normal late 20th-century person, and others were wearing a rather strange outfit like a hoodie? 

"Oh! Hello, Professor McGonagall! How are you doing?" said a voice from the counter. 

"Hello, Tom. Things are pretty great, just helping a new member of our society to fit in," she finished, pointing at me. 

"Good afternoon, Mr. Tom. My name is Adam White, nice to meet you." 

Tom, a rather elderly man with a luxurious mustache, said with a smile: "Nice to meet you, too, Mr. White. I suppose you're here to go to Slanting Lane?" The last question was clearly directed at the professor. 

The woman nodded and led me toward the back of the Hole Cauldron. Standing against the wall and taking out Professor McGonagall's wand, she said: "Remember carefully, Mr. White...Three up and two to the side." The brick she touched shuddered, then twitched, and a small hole appeared in the middle of it, which quickly began to grow. A second later, there was an archway in front of us that seemed to adjust to our size. "Welcome to Slant Lane, Mr. White." 

Slant Lane was a winding street filled with stores that were fantastical or rather magical. 

"I see you're impressed with this place," seeing my eyes widen, the professor asked. 

I could only nod as I continued to look at my surroundings. Here and there passed people who were discussing the prices of certain goods, politics, potions, and magical discoveries. 

"Where should we go first?" I asked, quenching my curiosity for a while. 

"Let's start with Mulpepper's Apothecary." 

After that, we entered the room in front of the entrance, where there was an inscription that this place had been operating since 1006. The pharmacy was located across the street from another place called Slug and Jigger Pharmacy. 

Going inside, I was surprised by the smell of rotten eggs and zucchini. There were barrels of slime on the floor, glass jars with dried plants, ground roots, and colorful powders lined up along the walls, and bundles of feathers, fangs, and bent claws hanging from the ceiling. 

I wouldn't have mistaken this place for a medical facility if it weren't for the vials and other things that remotely resembled medical instruments. 

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall!" sounded a rather mature voice. 

"Good afternoon, how are you, Mr. Mulpepper?" "Good." 

"Greatly well. Considering how hard it is to deal with a child wizard, you could say we're lucky. But enough about me, let's talk about this young wizard. Standard first-year kit?" 

Having received a nod, the apothecary began to run back and forth in search of necessary things, and soon enough, the kit was assembled. After that, it was the turn of robes. We took it in Madame Malkin's store, to be honest, it was not comfortable to wear. But it wasn't exactly uncomfortable either. 

"Will I have to wear it 24/7 while I'm at school?" 

"Mostly, yes, it's a tradition, after all." 

If I think it's right, it's mostly just tradition. Since the people I met wore much more modern clothes, the men preferred suits and the women preferred rather modern dresses. 

After shopping for books at Flourish and Blotts, it was time for the most important event of all, the purchase of a wand.... 

"The only thing left on the list is a wand?" 

"Are you sure you don't want to buy a pet?" 

"No one to send letters to most of the time, and besides, after school, I don't know what to do with a pet." 

"In that case, let's head over to Olivander's." 

The shop was in a "small, shabby building" on the south side of Rutting Lane. "The Ollivander family has been wand makers since 382 B.C." was written in gold letters above the entrance to the shop. 

"Are they really making it that long?" 

"You can ask Garrick yourself, Mr. White." 

Then began the most interesting event of the day for sure. 

Squeak 

The moment Professor McGonagall walked through the rather old door, I could see a table and a lot of boxes. 

The shop from the inside was very small, with only one chair for visitors, and all the space was taken up by racks of boxes with wands in a "slightly crazy order." But despite that, the room felt much more magical than the previous places. 

However, another oddity was that the owner of this shop was nowhere to be seen. 

"Professor, where is the owner of this place?" 

At the same moment, I heard rustling from inside the shop, and someone came out... 

"Oh, hello, Minerva. The fir is 9.5 inches, and the core is a dragon's heart vein. Is everything all right with the wand?" 

The speaker was a man in his 40s, with eyes as silver as the moon that seemed to hide a universal secret. His head was dotted with gray hair, but he looked mature enough, but not elderly. 

"Yes, she's fine, Garrick." "Yes." 

"I'm glad, I suppose we should get this young man a wand?" "Yes, this young man." 

"Yes, this young man's name is Adam White." "Yes." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ollivander." "Great to meet you." 

Ollivander looked at my hair, and after a quick decision, he smiled and said: 

"You too, young Mr. White. Let's not pull the cat by the tail and start measuring, shall we?" 

I only smiled slightly at his little pun in response, ignoring the way Ollivander was looked at by the only animagus cat in the room. 

"What's your leading hand?" 

"I'm ambidextrous." 

I've been practicing not only my powers but also simpler skills like languages and interesting two-handed skills. I was improving my motor skills, as it were. 

"Ho, that's quite interesting..." said the wand maker as he began to measure the length of my arms. 

Then he measured from shoulder to fingers, then from wrist to elbow, then from shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and also measured the circumference of my head. 

"Mr. Ollivander, how exactly does the wand work? And can I use another person's wand, for example? I'd also like to know if the sign at the entrance is true." 

"You're a very curious customer. The wand serves as a concentrator of the wizard's magical power; without it, spells do not come out so skillfully. As to whether you can use another person's wand, the answer is yes. However, the spells will not come out as easily as with your own wand. And yes, my family has been doing it ever since." 

Once the measurements were finished, Ollivander stepped away from me and spoke: 

"My family came here during the Roman conquests from the Mediterranean countries." 

"But the invasion of Britain came much later, didn't it?" 

Ollivander looked at my eyes smiling said: 

"It is so with the Muggles, and the wizards invaded much earlier than their fellows." 

"I take it you'll be picking up my wand now?" 

"Oh, Mr. White, the wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around. I'll just see which ones respond to you." 

After which he retreated into the depths of the room, and soon enough, came back bringing with him a box. 

"A 10-inch elm tree with a dragon's heart vein in it." 

When I took the wand in my hands, I could literally feel that there was some sort of consciousness in the thing. 

"What are you waiting for, Mr. White? Wave it." 

Listening to the wand maker, I waved the wand, and in that instant, I felt the magic flowing out of me into the wand.... 

*BAM! 

The back shelves began to fly out of their nests, and Garrick Ollivander just smiled happily and said: 

"I guess it doesn't fit…" 

After a dozen sticks, Ollivander looked at me and said: 

"You're a very interesting visitor, Mr. White." 

He was about to say something else, but after a moment's thought, he said: 

"Perhaps this one? Yes, we should definitely try it." 

He went away for a longer period of time and came out with another box. When I opened it, I saw a dark gray stick without any frills. 

"Try this, Mr. White." 

I just silently took it and felt an incredibly strong connection between me and the wand.... Except that with it, I felt the wand creating a dependency? Yes, dependence, it was as if the wand was saying to me, "Why do you have to suffer so much with spells? When you have me?" 

Everything would be fine if it wasn't for one thing — You can't pull a fish out of a pond without work. 

"I see this is the wand that chose you, Mr. White." 

Putting the wand in the case he handed me, I smiled nervously and asked: 

"What is it made of?" 

Ollivander, as if expecting this question, only answered: 

"A 13-inch bouzine and the core of a phoenix feather. An unusual mixture of... Elderberry is the rarest wood of all, and is known to be very unlucky, as it is more difficult to master an elder wand than any other. Carries powerful magic, but despises any wielder who is not supreme over it; to use an elder wand for any length of time, the wizard must be outstanding. The old superstition 'an elderberry wand will bring trouble' is based on fear of such a wand, but it is groundless in fact, and foolish wand makers who refuse to work with elderberry do so more out of fear of not selling them than out of fear of messing with that tree. The truth is that only the extraordinary will find their ideal in elderberry, and on the rare occasions when such a connection occurs, I take it to mean that these sorceresses or wizards have a special destiny. An additional fact I've unearthed over many years of wand study is that elderberry wand wielders almost always feel the strongest kinship with those chosen by the rowan tree." 

Seeing me frown uncontrollably, he continued his moment of fact with a smile: 

"The interesting thing is ... that the core here is the feather of the creature that can be reborn. Don't you think that's rather poetic? Life and Death?"