Chapter 7 Church

"Merlin's beard... What is this?!"

When John took out the [Angel's Feather] from the chest, the feather, which radiated a faint golden glow, instantly made everyone present gasp.

Especially Ollivander, who had been crafting wands for countless years. He had seen many magical materials, from unicorn hair to phoenix feathers, and had used them to create numerous wands. But the white feather before him, which exuded a serene and comforting aura, made him rush from behind the counter in excitement.

"What is this?"

For Ollivander, a master wandmaker, to ask such a question indicated the immense value of the [Angel's Feather].

Professor McGonagall also looked at John in disbelief. Though she couldn't determine exactly which magical creature the feather came from, she was certain it wasn't from any mundane creature in the Muggle world. How could a Muggle like John obtain such a thing?

"Mr. Constantine, I'd also like to know, what is this? And... how did you get it?"

Professor McGonagall's tone was serious, and she even addressed John more formally.

John shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall. I wish I could answer that question, but I don't know either."

His eyes didn't waver. How could the people of this world, who had never even truly seen a demon, possibly encounter something as ethereal as an angel?

"I found this in my family's ancient castle treasury. It was hidden very cleverly. If I hadn't needed money urgently and turned over the entire floor of the treasury, I might never have found it."

"I don't know what it is either, but... I'm sure it's something good. Keeping it by my bedside has significantly improved my sleep quality."

Everyone was speechless.

Hagrid, who had an almost obsessive love for magical creatures, squatted down to examine the feather in John's glass vial closely, his eyes filled with dazed fascination.

"Oh my... this feeling, it's like I'm ascending to heaven..."

Hearing Hagrid's murmured words, John couldn't help but be startled. Wow! Should I say, as expected of you, Hagrid?

Whether it was Hagrid's keen perception or just his straightforward description of his feelings, it had hit the mark. John turned his gaze back to Ollivander, who looked both conflicted and intrigued.

"Mr. Ollivander, this feather gives me a very good feeling, and I've kept it by my bedside for a couple of years now. I hope you can use it as the core to make a custom wand for me."

Ollivander carefully accepted the glass vial. The moment his aged hands touched the glass, a feeling of rejuvenation washed over him, making his eyes widen even more. His initial hesitance and adherence to tradition quickly crumbled in the face of this extraordinary sensation.

"Although it might seem unconventional, who can argue with such miraculous materials?"

"Mr. Constantine, don't you agree?"

John smiled, satisfied. "So, Master, how long will it take?"

Ollivander exhaled deeply, examining the [Angel's Feather] in the vial closely. After several moments of hesitation, he finally spoke.

"Apologies, Mr. Constantine, but this material is too special. The choice of the wand's wood and the internal structure design are significant tasks. So... I might need until you go to Hogwarts to complete it."

"Would that be acceptable?"

Ollivander's eager yet apologetic look, paired with his tight grip on the vial, made John hesitate for a moment before nodding.

Ollivander, elated by John's consent, laughed heartily and carefully placed the vial on the table. He clasped John's hands with both of his.

"Mr. Constantine, thank you for your understanding and trust. I promise to use my finest skills to craft your wand. And the cost? Not a single Knut. Moreover, if your wand ever needs repairs, please bring it to me. I will service it for free!"

When John and the others left Ollivander's shop, Professor McGonagall finally couldn't hold back her curiosity and frowned.

"John, can you tell me more about your family's history?"

John hesitated, then realized that Professor McGonagall might be suspecting he came from a lost wizarding family.

He shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall. Perhaps the Constantine family did have some connections with the wizarding world, but... I don't think those connections were pleasant."

McGonagall frowned, not understanding John's meaning. John sighed, deciding to reveal a bit more. He pulled out a substantial golden cross from under his collar. The cross, engraved with intricate, barely visible runes, radiated a mysterious aura.

John shrugged. "If I'm not mistaken, the Constantine family were once members of the Church..."

"The Church?!"

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened, and even Hagrid gasped. They looked at young John as if seeing a predator.

Only Harry remained clueless, looking back and forth between the adults.

"Hagrid, what's going on? What's wrong with John's family being from the Church?"

Hagrid, with a complicated expression, opened his mouth but didn't speak. Professor McGonagall, now looking at John with a mix of emotions, finally explained.

"The Church once tried to exterminate all wizards under the guise of eliminating heretics..."

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