6. The Difficult Wand Choice

Led by McGonagall, the two strolled through Diagon Alley and soon reached their destination.

If Gringotts is the most luxurious building in Diagon Alley, then Ollivander's Wand Shop is one of the three shabbiest shops in the area.

The dust on the windows has collected into scales, making it difficult to see what's inside the store, and a crooked wooden sign hangs outside.

[Ollivander; started crafting wands in 382 BC.]

Reading the words on the sign, Wayne couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

More than 300 BC, this land did not belong to the Anglo-Saxons, and even the Roman army hadn't invaded. The concept of Britain didn't exist at that time, with Celtic tribes scattered everywhere, and he had opened a shop selling hammers and wands.

However, being the only arms dealer in the UK...

Ollivander shouldn't have had to resort to this to make himself seem more important, right?

Observing Wayne hesitate to enter, McGonagall assumed he was taken aback by the unconventional decor and stepped forward to push open the wooden door, comforting him, "Ollivander is just... a bit eccentric. His wand-making skills, on the other hand, are truly remarkable... Bang!"

Before McGonagall could finish speaking, perhaps due to being slightly distracted by explaining things to Wayne, he used a bit too much force and the entire door of the wand shop came crashing down.

A cloud of dust filled the air, causing several specks of dirt on the windows to fall and turn to dust on the ground.

Quickly, Wayne placed his schoolbag in front of him to avoid embarrassment.

"Professor, are you alright? Pfft! Sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen."

As the dust settled, Wayne moved away and watched McGonagall's emerald green robes transition to a light gray. He couldn't help but burst into laughter.

[If you laugh at the professor in front of him, you will receive +10 points.]

Damn it, cursed Wayne in his mind, while McGonagall's expression grew grim. Fortunately, an old voice broke the awkwardness.

"Why don't they post a sign to remind people to open the door gently? Minerva, it's you."

An old man with white hair and a beard appeared from behind a shelf, scolding initially but immediately breaking into a smile upon seeing Professor McGonagall.

His ability to change his facial expression was truly unparalleled.

"Garrick, your shop needs some renovations," McGonagall said with a serious face, but Ollivander simply laughed it off and changed the subject.

"Minerva, you know, seeing you every summer is the highlight of my year. Your presence, along with Filius and Pomona, means that a wand will find its master."

After saying that, he gazed at Wayne with his deep blue eyes.

"Young wizard, would you mind sharing your name with me?"

"Wayne Lawrence," Wayne announced himself and calmly stepped away from a shelf.

He had just noticed that one of the legs of the shelf was broken, and he was unsure when it might collapse.

"Ah, Mr. Lawrence, an uncommon surname. Are your ancestors Roman or French?"

"Perhaps French, but I have been in England for many years."

The Lawrence family is indeed an old aristocracy that followed William the Conqueror from Normandy, and the surname Lawrence is more common in French.

"It seems your ancestors made the right choice, as even the French dogs won't venture here."

While Ollivander was chatting with Wayne, the measuring tape automatically flew towards the little wizard.

What made Wayne's mouth twitch a little was that the conflict between Britain and France had even spread to the wizarding world, and they would seize every opportunity to humiliate him.

It was outrageous.

"What is your dominant hand?"

"Left hand."

"Alright, let's try this."

After examining the scale on the ruler, Ollivander disappeared briefly before returning with a large stack of wooden boxes.

"Child, remember that it is the wand that chooses its master. Only when the wizard and the wand have a remarkable connection can he unleash all his talents."

"Let's try it first. Some little wizards are quite particular, like the original Minerva..."

Professor McGonagall's voice sounded helpless. "Fir wood, nine inches, with a dragon heartstring core, suitable for performing transformation techniques."

"Garrick, you always bring that up every time you see me."

"Forgive an old man for having to remember things like this." Ollivander smiled and handed Wayne a wand.

With it in his hand, Wayne felt an undeniable excitement.

Then he followed his instincts.

Boom!

A ball of white light erupted from the tip of the wand, piercing a large hole in the roof.

His ancestral home was destroyed. Ollivander didn't show any anger, but instead, his face filled with joy.

"Amazing, absolutely amazing."

"This wand is not fitting for your future accomplishments, Mr. Lawrence. Although cedar wood is suitable for intelligent individuals, it is still too gentle. How about giving this one a try?"

"Dragon Heartstrings and Yew."

The wand in Wayne's hand was snatched away, and another one was quickly inserted. This time, a blazing ball of fire shot out.

Wayne frowned.

He didn't like the uncontrollable display of magic power. The next moment, the fireball dissipated into thin air.

Bang bang bang!

Ollivander became even more delighted. "Mr. Lawrence, your talent is truly visible. Very few young wizards can control their magic so well when they first encounter a wand."

"But I implore you not to force it. Simply let nature take its course and find the most suitable wand."

Wayne had no choice but to nod, indicating that he would no longer interfere. At this moment, even Professor McGonagall wore a smile, indicating that Hogwarts had welcomed another young genius. It would be wonderful if he could be sorted into Gryffindor.

You see, Slytherin has won six consecutive Academy Cups, a fact that has been causing her concern for a while.

The boxes on the table were being opened one by one, with Wayne experimenting with various wand combinations. From fir to walnut, from Dragon heartstrings to Thestral Hair, he tried them all.

Ollivander was fully immersed in the process, mumbling to himself. He enjoyed having such discerning customers, as it proved that the wizard was extraordinary. In the wizarding world, following the crowd only leads to mediocrity. Only wizards with unique characteristics and personalities can rise to the top.

Even when Wayne achieves success and fame, he will still approach the selection of a wand with dignity. His grandfather had deceived others for decades, falsely claiming to have sold a wand to Dumbledore and successfully overshadowing the other two wand-making families. Ollivander dreams of having the same standing one day. In the future, the three major wand-making families will cease to exist, and Ollivander will be the only name that comes to mind when people think of wands.

This trial took almost an hour and involved nearly one hundred wands. Wayne remained calm throughout the process. What's the harm in exploring the unique properties of being a time traveler? Is it not worth trying a few more wands?

"Then, let's give this one a try," Ollivander said, producing another box. "Handwood, unicorn hair, eleven and a half inches."

Wayne nonchalantly took the wand, and in the next second, he felt an overwhelming sense of joy.