Dylan pondered for a moment, gently tapping his notebook with a finger, his eyes thoughtful and a little shrewd.
"I think I understand what you mean, sir."
"Up until now, we've only really found a new material that seems promising for wandmaking and figured out its basic properties. But if we dig deeper, we'll have to explore the new concepts and philosophies they use to craft their wands."
He paused, considering. "But those ideas are the result of their decades of accumulated knowledge, and they're drastically different from our system here."
"If we follow their path right now, we might get boxed in, and it could actually hurt our own understanding of wandcraft."
"Precisely!"
Ollivander nodded emphatically, his fingers tracing the edge of the notebook, his eyes full of agreement. "There's always been a fair bit of debate about wandmaking philosophies across different regions."
"For instance, we focus on the idea that 'the wand chooses the wizard,' while some places emphasize that 'the wizard dictates the wand'—it's simply not the time for us to fully embrace their concepts."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice tinged with anticipation. "We must first form an independent understanding of this new wand material based on our own system. Then, when we talk with other wandmakers, we'll truly be able to spark some magic and gain a lot more!"
"It would be a dreadful shame to let a good piece of material go to waste by getting sidetracked by their ideas now."
Just as he finished speaking, Ollivander reached into the inner pocket of his robes and pulled out a deep purple velvet cloth bag.
The fabric was smooth, its edges embroidered with intricate silver patterns, clearly indicating it had been carefully kept for a very long time.
He gently unfolded the bag, revealing a walnut wand box. Simple vine patterns were carved into its surface.
The moment he opened the box, a wand came into view.
Its main body was a gentle, ivory white, smooth and fine, with the natural grain of the wood subtly visible. The handle was wrapped in a section of purplish-brown material, like thin strips of hard wood spiraled tightly around the shaft, which added grip and looked exceptionally elegant.
"Elder and Aspen wood?" Dylan raised an eyebrow. He leaned closer, his gaze falling on the middle of the wand.
A faint silver thread seemed to flow almost invisibly within.
"Mr. Ollivander, did you use a wisp of Non-Existent Spirit Fiber for the core?"
"Where did you even get hold of that?"
Ollivander simply smiled, offering no words.
Dylan shrugged and quickly put the pieces together. "You chose Elder wood because the Non-Existent Spirit Fiber comes from the Non-Existent, and naturally carries strong negative energy. Elder wood can neutralize that energy and keep it from backfiring on the wizard."
"As for Aspen, is that because it's light and offers little resistance when channeling magic, so it won't suppress the power of the Spirit Fiber? Am I right?"
"Your insight is as sharp as ever," Ollivander chuckled, nodding. He lightly touched the wand's handle. "I did indeed follow that principle, combining two different shaft materials to create this wand."
"My family has a piece of preserved knowledge," he said, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "The old leather documenting the first Ollivander's insights. I've finally managed to fully absorb the knowledge it holds about 'Composite Shafts.'"
"And this Non-Existent Spirit Fiber... its magical stability is much better than I'd anticipated."
Ollivander gently pushed the wand box toward Dylan, then raised an eyebrow, his tone expectant. "Dylan, pick it up, and place the tip against your temple."
Seeing Dylan reach for it, he added, "Then, repeat a Runescript incantation after me. Be sure to keep your pronunciation steady; don't put too much force into it."
"Hmm?" Dylan blinked. The corresponding Rune character immediately sprang to mind.
It was the symbol that looked like a question mark, '?'—he'd seen it in his Ancient Runes textbook. Its core meaning was precisely the 'Infusion of Mental Power into an Object.'
He looked up at Ollivander, his expression both inquisitive and certain. "Mr. Ollivander, you took inspiration from the properties of the Elder Wand, didn't you? You want this wand to access my memories and better attune itself to my magical signature, making it a perfect fit for me."
"Precisely! You hit the nail on the head!" Ollivander's eyes lit up instantly, his voice full of gratification, smoothing out the wrinkles around his eyes. "That's likely the greatest inspiration I got from that inherited leather—the bond between a wand and a wizard isn't just about matching materials to magic, it requires a spiritual connection."
He quickly changed the subject, his tone becoming frank. "Of course, it's nowhere near as powerful as the Elder Wand; it has many limitations."
"For example, this memory-attuning ability can only work once before it stabilizes."
"Also, to trigger it, the wizard must have a foundation in mental magic, otherwise they won't be able to guide the memory to resonate with the wand."
"Dylan, go on, give it a try!"
Dylan nodded seriously and reached into the box to take the wand.
The moment his fingers touched the shaft, he felt a comfortable warmth. The spiral grooves on the handle fit the curve of his fingers perfectly, and the weight was just right. Clearly, Ollivander had adjusted the design to his hand size, making the grip exceptionally comfortable.
Following Ollivander's guidance, he gently placed the wand tip against his temple, took a deep breath, composed himself, and uttered the incantation in a steady voice.
"Ah!" Hearing the clear sound of the spell, Ollivander visibly relaxed, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "I almost forgot to tell you, you have to be calm and have a peaceful mind first, so the wand can touch your memory without causing confusion."
As the spell faded, Dylan felt a gentle power flow from the wand tip, seeping into his mind through his temple.
The sensation was familiar, somewhat like the magical pull he felt when submitting his name to the Goblet of Fire, but much more refined. What was particularly special was that the memories this wand accessed were purely centered around the various spells he had mastered.
From the basic Lumos to the complex silent Summoning Charm, and even deeper incantations—it completely avoided any fragments of his daily life or emotional memories, precisely bypassing unrelated content.
Soon, he clearly felt the resonance between the wand and his memories was complete.
To test the effect, he raised the wand, pointing it at a book not far away, and cast a charm.
There was no resistance whatsoever. The book was smoothly drawn toward him by an invisible force. He immediately changed the gesture, casting another charm, and the book glided back to its original spot. The spells were so fluid it felt as if this wand had been his companion for years.
Dylan looked down at the wand in his hand, surprised to see its appearance had changed.
The previously dull white shaft now had a soft, silvery-white glow, and the wood grain on the surface was tinged with a faint gold, as if countless fine gold threads were inlaid within, shimmering delicately in the light—it was more exquisite and dazzling than before.
He knew perfectly well that he hadn't even had time to use his Magic Eye to check the wand's internal magic circuits, yet it had achieved such a perfect fit. That alone was proof of the memory resonance's success.
"How does it feel?" Ollivander leaned closer, his eyes full of anticipation, his hands unconsciously clasped together.
This wand, a fusion of new material and new concepts, was his proudest recent work, and he wanted to know the practical results more than anyone.
Dylan brandished the wand, his fingers feeling the subtle magic pulsating from the shaft, his voice filled with amazement.
"It's incredibly smooth! Even without checking the internal circuits, I can clearly feel it's perfectly attuned to my magic."
"When I cast the spells just now, there was no hesitation at all. It feels even better than the old wand I've used for years. The effect it has on the spellcasting process is so obvious!"
He looked down at the silvery-white wand and smiled. "This is absolutely a great wand, Mr. Ollivander. You've created another masterpiece."
"Ah-ha-ha, don't say that, you're making me blush," Ollivander said, waving his hand with a smile. His cheeks were slightly flushed, clearly delighted by the praise, but he quickly reined in his smile, his tone becoming candid. "However, it's still not enough."
"This wand uses Non-Existent Spirit Fiber, which is such a unique core that there's currently no way to obtain it in bulk. So, it's destined not to be widely available; it's really just an experimental attempt."
He paused, continuing, "And its limitations go beyond that—because it can only attune itself to the wizard through a single memory resonance, it can only enhance the spells you have mastered right now."
"If you learn new incantations later, you'll still need to use it over a long period to make it adapt to the new magical patterns. You won't be able to achieve a rapid bond the same way again."
Hmm...
Heh heh...
The spells he'd already mastered were already ridiculously numerous.
With that, Ollivander stood up, placed the empty wand box back into the velvet bag, and carefully tied the knot.
He turned to look out the window. The setting sun hung in the sky, painting it a brilliant red. The light streamed through the glass into the classroom, casting long shadows on the floor.
"It's getting late. I should be leaving Hogwarts. I need to get back to Diagon Alley before dark."
"Oh! I almost forgot this!" He suddenly slapped his forehead and pulled a large roll of parchment from the other side of his robe pocket.
The edges of the paper were curled, a sign of frequent reading, and several different colored quills were clipped to it, used to mark important points.
"These are my recent notes on researching composite shafts and special cores. They document quite a bit of experimental data and ideas."
Ollivander handed the parchment roll to Dylan, his tone casual. "If you're interested, you can flip through them in your spare time, just to pass the time. Your professors can't stop singing praises about your abilities. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't have sought you out to test this new wand. Those old professors would never agree to my methods."
Dylan took the parchment roll in both hands, holding it close, and smiled slowly. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I won't let this valuable information go to waste."
"Good, that puts my mind at ease." Ollivander nodded, then picked up Dylan's notebook from the table and carefully tucked it into his own cloth bag. "I'll also study your notes carefully. I might find new inspiration in them. We can exchange ideas again then."
This Dylan, he truly lived up to the trust Dumbledore had in him.
To be able to proactively research the power displayed by the other schools and make such progress in such a short time...
He was clearly brilliant!
The two exchanged a few simple goodbyes. Ollivander then, holding his cloth bag, walked toward the classroom door. The setting sun stretched his silhouette long before it gradually disappeared down the corridor.
Dylan, meanwhile, stood where he was, holding the parchment roll and the new wand, a spark of curiosity ignited in his heart.
With this special wand and Ollivander's research notes, his interest in magic had grown even stronger.
Then came the afternoon of another weekend.
Sunlight broke through the clouds, spilling onto the Hogwarts grounds.
Cedric, Draco, and Harry followed behind Dylan, walking along the winding path to a secluded corner of the lawn.
A towering magical plant stood before them. Its thick trunk was covered in dark brown patterns, and its massive branches, as thick as a grown man's arm, had sharp thorns at the tips. They swayed gently in the breeze, exuding an air of powerful deterrence.
"It's the Whomping Willow," Harry said, looking up at the plant, which seemed even taller than the school building. His voice was full of realization.
Sirius had specifically mentioned this tree the last time they met in Hogsmeade. There was a secret passage hidden beneath its roots that led straight to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade village.
Harry recalled the old stories Sirius told. When Professor Lupin first came to Hogwarts, he would use this passage to go to the Shrieking Shack every full moon when he transformed into a werewolf, preventing him from harming other students.
Later, James Potter and Sirius discovered the secret and learned to become Animagi, transforming into animals to accompany Lupin during those difficult nights in the Shack.
It was the commotion they made in the Shack that led the villagers of Hogsmeade to mistakenly believe the place was haunted, earning it the reputation of being the most aggressively haunted place in all of England.
Cedric stared at the Willow's thick branches and quickly guessed the purpose of their visit. He turned to Dylan. "Dylan, are we going to train here?"
"That's right."
Dylan nodded, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. It bore Professor Sprout's signature.
"I submitted an application to Professor Sprout earlier, hoping to use the Whomping Willow as a sparring partner, and she agreed."
"However, the Professor had one request. She said the Whomping Willow is her carefully cultivated 'little darling,' and she hopes we'll be mindful during our training and avoid damaging its branches."
"'Little darling'?" Harry couldn't help but repeat the phrase. He looked back up at the Whomping Willow.
Its branches were thick as hammers, its forks as sharp as whips. A single swing could smash small holes in the ground.
He muttered to himself.
If he got hammered by this "little darling," he'd probably be flattened into a pancake—a very holey one, at that.
He suddenly remembered how Hagrid always referred to Blast-Ended Skrewts and Dragons as "little cuties." He instantly felt that Professor Sprout's definition of a "little darling" was exactly like Hagrid's.
He certainly couldn't handle a "darling" like that.
"So, the focus of this training is on reaction speed, dodging techniques, and the practical application of the Shield Charm," Dylan added, his eyes sweeping over the others. "The Whomping Willow's attacks are fast and have a wide range, which perfectly simulates a dragon's attack patterns."
"It really is suitable," Cedric said thoughtfully, watching the Willow and gently tapping his palm with his fingers. "When its branches swing simultaneously, the coverage is similar to a dragon's wings and claws. It'll train us to handle attacks from multiple directions."
Draco also nodded, his eyes showing approval. "And its size is about what we predicted for the dragons. Standing beneath it gives us that immediate sense of oppression, which is much better than simulating it in an empty classroom."
"How exactly should we practice?" Harry was already getting impatient, gripping his wand tighter—ever since he learned the first task might involve dragons, he'd been hoping for a chance to run a real-life simulation.
"Let's summon our brooms first," Dylan said, raising his wand, his voice steady. "I'll need to cast some protective spells around us to ensure no one else gets hurt during training."
No sooner had he spoken than four broomsticks flew from the direction of the distant castle, settling neatly into the hands of Dylan, Harry, Cedric, and Draco.
Harry held his broom, the familiar feel of the wood comforting his fingers, increasing his anticipation.
Riding the broom and dodging the Willow's attacks would surely help him adapt faster to the pressure a dragon would bring!
Dylan gripped his broom, raised his wand, and pointed it around the area.
Harry, Cedric, and Draco immediately felt a gentle magical energy spread through the air, like a transparent film softly covering the surrounding area. They saw no visible change, yet the scenery before them subtly seemed to soften.
Cedric immediately raised his own wand, the tip trembling slightly as if sensing the magical vibrations in the air.
After a moment, he looked at Dylan, his tone firm. "Dylan, you cast a Confundus Charm, didn't you? To hide the commotion of our training?"