Multiverse Systems: Demonic Resurrection in the Primordial Tower

[A Terror Infinity and the Ultimate Evolution inspired Multiverse fanfic] Kai died and resurrected in the Primordial Tower with a Glitch. In the Tower, to ascend each floor, Kai must complete a series of Missions in the Infinite Random Worlds across the Multiverse. Worlds such as Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, Pokemon, Naruto, One Piece. Walk along with Kai as he slaughter his way up to the peak of Absolute Power. *************** Discord: https://discord.gg/BMAQaTzPds Support here - Patreon (for extra chapters): patreon.com/droopyauthor Ko-Fi : https://ko-fi.com/droopyauthor Disclaimer: Other than my OCs, I don’t own any character. Thank you.

droopyauthor · Book&Literature
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394 Chs

The Princess of Diagon Alley

Mr. Ollivander felt old. Sunday mornings did this to him, making him feel older than he was.

So, as the evening approached, when he began feeling something youngish about himself, Mr. Ollivander dusted his coat, threw it over his shoulders, and walked out into the bustling alley.

Shop closed. He would spend his evening somewhere else today.

It had changed, he noticed. Diagon Alley had always been a center of gathering for the wizarding community of Britain. Still, now it felt more… proper?


Old men like him shouldn't bother about these things.

He spun to his left and headed toward the Brews and Stews for a nice cup of tea, and scones for a light snack. Mr. Hillam (-manager of the bookshop-) was waiting for him there with Ms. Clutterbuck.

"Mr. Ollivander!" The shout jolted him. "Ahoy!"

He had to turn back. Looking over his shoulder pained Ollivander's neck. "Ah! Demelza." Demelza was the mistress of the Magical Menagerie, the magical creature shop. "Catch your breath first."

The witch held her stomach and looked back over her shoulder. Another wizard was running toward them, almost hopping like a rabbit. Mr. Walther Millet, the owner of Eeylops Owl Emporium. "Mr. Ollivander," he tipped his hat.

"Returned from wales, Walther?" Mr. Ollivander asked. This was something he could take pride in. He didn't forget. He couldn't forget. "Gone there for bird-watching, I presume."

"Magnificent creatures!" Mr. Walther said. "Ah! Hello, Ms. Demelza."

"How do you…" The witch broke midway, still catching her breath.

Seeing the three crowded on the alley's side, another wizard approached them. "A fine evening, gentlemen," Mr. Florean, owner of the Ice Cream Parlour, said. "And, lady, of course."

Mr. Ollivander felt odd. Mr. Clutterbuck Crispe, the owner of Brews and Stews, wasn't the sort of chef who would appreciate a late regular. He worried about reaching there and finding a cold tea, and no scones.

Now that thought was indeed troubling. "Florean," Mr. Ollivander said, "Demelza, and Walther. What is it?"

The witch put her hand over Mr. Ollivander's arm. "Don't take me wrong, now, Ollivander," she said, looking around, "but… are you going there?"

Mr. Ollivander looked away from her, pulling away his hand. "Is that your question as well, Walther?" The young wizard had the decency to blush, at least.

"Haha!" Florean laughed, with an obvious touch of humor. "I know I am going. You can't just say no to her. I am afraid I will not sleep for days if I don't go."

"But…" Demelza shuffled on her feet, now grabbing Walther's arm. "… Malfoy Manor, Florean? I am not sure."

"Excuse me," Mr. Ollivander said, finding standing here a waste of his time. "I am expected at Brews and Stews."

"Of course…" "OK…"

Mr. Ollivander shook his head and walked away, leaving the three huddled together behind him. Yes. Florean still had some hope, it seemed.

He passed by Gringotts, and by mere happenstance, noticed a goblin stepping down from the stairs. From the pocket of his shirt, a glowing, green envelope was protruding, as if the goblin had taken extra care to show it off.

Garluk? Mr. Ollivander frowned. He got the invitation, too?

"Ollivander!" another shout. "Here!"

Mr. Ollivander lost the goblin and looked ahead. Madam Malkin had spied him from the glass and was rushing toward the door.


He crossed the alley, elbows hitting his sides. The crowd was overwhelming, even for a shopkeeper. "Malkin," he said, "what's that in your hand?"

It was a dress like no other. Magic covered it, embracing its all fibers. Green, white, and a touch of black at the edges.

"Just finished!" Madam Malkin said, turning the dress around for a better look. "She would look wonderful! She would, right?"

Was that a question? "A befitting dress for someone of her status, Malkin," Mr. Ollivander said, picking the right words. "But I don't know if she would care as long as you go there tonight."

"Of course, she wouldn't!" Madam Malkin rolled her eyes, smiling. "Still, you do not know girls, Ollivander. It was like only yesterday she had entered my shop. We are growing old, aren't we?"

No need to remind him of that. Mr. Ollivander grunted, hoping to be on his way.

Madam Malkin had other thoughts to share. "I had thought of this dress two months ago, you know," she said, smiling, "when she got the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. I will not be surprised if she were to get another one soon."

Now, there Madam Malkin was wrong. Mr. Ollivander needed to remind her. "She got another, actually, Malkin," he said, his chest swelling. "You didn't read the Evening Daily Prophet?"

Madam Malkin gasped. She ran back and returned with a copy of Daily Prophet glued to her eyes. "Golden Quill AwardsBlimey!"

Mr. Ollivander patted the witch and walked off. This award was nothing, he knew. Why did no one talk about the tens of research papers she had published by now? Curious kind, his brethren; the wizards and witches.

Mr. Ollivander smiled at the Flower Vendor, who had propped a glowing, green envelope at the top of her bouquets. Then he looked left and almost stopped.

There, standing in front of the Daily Prophet's Office, was Rita Skeeter. She was holding the same envelope and was smiling smugly. Suddenly, she looked to her right, and their eyes met.

The journalist hurriedly stuffed the envelope in her sleeves and disappeared inside the office.

Mr. Ollivander wasn't overly fond of her. And now he had a reason to believe that she wasn't particularly invited.

He kept going but found his way blocked by Pippins, the owner of J. Pippins Potions. "Mr. Ollivander," the wizard said. "Care if I go with you all, eh?"

Mr. Ollivander did care, as a matter of fact. "Sure," he nodded. "Is that a new coat I see there, Pippins?"

The men walked toward the Brews and Stews. The place was brimming with customers these days. She did that to places, Mr. Ollivander recalled. The girl attracted people like wands attracted wizards. Wands…


"Yes, it is," Pippins said. "I have got the perfect gift for her, eh. Did you know she is a scholar of Herbology and Potioneering as well, Ollivander? I am gifting her my own notes, mind you. Great gift!"

He did know. She had told him herself. And more, in fact. Who did Pippins think he was talking to? "That it is, Pippins," Mr. Ollivander said. "She will like it."

"Ha!" J. Pippins lifted his fist. "Knew it!"

Mr. Ollivander entered the restaurant and muscled his way to the table, where Mr. Hillam was already waiting for him. A cold tea, and a plate empty of scones, waited on the table as well.


"Ollivander!" Mr. Hillam rose, straitening his coat. "And… Pippins? Merlin's beard! Didn't recognize you there for a moment?"

Mr. Ollivander noticed Pippins grin and thought better to remind him that, coming from Hillam, it might not be a compliment what the bookshop owner said as he had a bad memory. "Shall we go, then, Hillam?"

"In a moment, Ollivander," Mr. Hillam said. "Ms. Clutterbuck has gone to fetch someone to look after the restaurant."

So the three wizards sat down. Mr. Ollivander swished his wand and brought the tea back to the drinkable temperature. He sipped, smacked his lips at the flavor, and nodded. Still, without the scones, it just didn't feel right.

Suddenly, Mr. Hillam tugged at his hand. "Ollivander," he whispered. "A moment?"

Mr. Ollivander didn't know why Hillam bothered whispering. In the cacophony, even if they were to shout, no one would hear them. He gave Mr. Hillam his ear, anyway.

"I can't recall!" Mr. Hillam said, fiddling with his thumbs.


Mr. Hillam looked at Pippins from the corner of his eyes, and said, "How old is she now?"

Blimey! Mr. Ollivander had told him to not forget to take the memory potion. "We attended her graduation ceremony at Euro-Glyph School of Extraordinary Languages, Hillam," he said. "Surely you remember that, don't you?"

"Of course!" Mr. Hillam said. "I do, Ollivander. Umm, when was it?"

Mr. Ollivander licked his lips. "Last week," he said. "And…"

Pippins scooched over. "Wonderful age, 9, isn't it?!" he shouted. "With her height, though, she feels like 11-12!"

Mr. Ollivander pulled himself back, patting Hillam's shoulder.

"So, Hillam," J. Pippins grinned, "where's your gift, eh?"

Mr. Hillam paled suddenly. Good thing was, in the blinding lights, only Mr. Ollivander noticed it. No. It wasn't like the Flourish and Blotts bookshop's manager had forgotten the gift. It was just he had brought nothing.

This was another thing she did to people, Mr. Ollivander reminded himself. What could she possibly want, what could they possibly give her, and would it be enough? You couldn't help but ask these questions in these times. Especially tonight.

"And you, Ollivander?" Pippins asked, getting no reply from Hillam. "What did you bring?"

Well, Mr. Ollivander had no reply for him as well. Oh, no. He had a gift with him. It wasn't just as simple as notes or a flashy box. For 2 years Mr. Ollivander had brooded over it, struggling all the while.

And yet, it felt that he had already decided it ages ago. When exactly?

Hmm. Yes, he remembered.

You can play with us anytime at the bookshop, Mr. Ollivander, she had said, looking up at him. You are not alone. Thank you for the tea.

"Ah! You have arrived, Ollivander!" Ms. Clutterbuck rammed into the crowd and approached them. "And… Pippins. You look… nice. Let's not dally here any longer. It's time! The entire alley is emptying, I swear. If this keeps up, it will become a holiday, no?"

Mr. Ollivander finished his tea and dusted his coat again as he stood up.

A holiday? He sighed as they walked out to disapparate. She was doing to "days", too, it seemed, whatever she did to people.

But that was the thing about the brilliant wizards and witches, Mr. Ollivander recalled, thinking of the grand names he couldn't forget.

And Darcie Malfoy promised to be the most brilliant of them all.


AN: As you must have noticed, this chapter is after 2 years of Kai's return. We will focus on Harry Potter Arc from now on.

A question!!!

Q: Can someone guess the relevance of this chapter? Why was it important for it to be in Ollivander's pov?

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