Crafting Harry's wand wasn't particularly difficult. Although wizard hair is an extremely finicky wand core that repels all incompatible woods, for Harold—who had already successfully crafted the "McGonagall Transfiguration Wand"—this was nothing more than another test of patience and skill.
He started with his usual wand wood: holly.
In wandlore, holly wands are famously incompatible with the Dark Arts, which seemed fitting for Harry.
He tried pairing a strand of Harry's hair with it—sure enough, the repulsion was significantly lower. If nothing else worked better, it would have sufficed.
But for Harold, who prided himself on user satisfaction, "suffice" wasn't good enough.
So the holly wand was set aside, and Harold began considering Harry's personal interests.
Harry, like Professor McGonagall, was a Quidditch lover. The most commonly used wood in flying brooms was ash—perhaps that would be a good fit.
Sure enough, when ash wood met Harry's hair, the resulting wand prototype was almost perfect. The rejection was reduced to its lowest.
But it was still just shy of perfect.
Harold tried several other woods—birch, silver fir, oak—but none were quite right.
Then, just as Harold stood up to grab a drink of water, the breeze from his sleeve swept a strand of hair onto one particularly special wand wood.
In an instant, the hair and wand wood resonated with a mysterious magical harmony.
"This is it… the perfect match," Harold murmured, eyes flashing with intrigue.
Because that wood… was yew.
In Britain, most preferred hawthorn, vine, or oak for wands. Yew wasn't very common—it was more popular at Gregorovitch's workshop across Europe.
Most notably, Voldemort's first wand had been made of yew.
Harold remembered clearly: yew, phoenix feather, thirteen and a half inches.
Yew wands are typically drawn to owners with great ambition or a natural affinity for danger. A fitting match for Voldemort.
And now, Harry's hair had chosen yew—a wood more inclined toward the Dark Arts.
Was it the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead? Or something else?
Harold recalled how the Sorting Hat once said Harry would do well in Slytherin—that he could find greatness there. Slytherin, coincidentally, had the highest number of yew wands among its students.
Could there be a connection?
Harold was intrigued, but his hands didn't stop moving.
He'd already prepared several wand shafts, including this yew one, ahead of time.
From here, the process was easy. In less than half an hour, Harold had a brand-new wand in hand.
[Yew, Wizard Hair, 11 inches][Status: Perfect][Traits: Spellcasting Speed +5 (15)%; Dark Magic Effectiveness +3 (9)%; Disarming Charm Effectiveness +20 (35)%]
Harold raised an eyebrow.
Of course—a wand made from Harry's hair had to excel at the Disarming Charm. That +35% boost was incredible—even higher than the bonus granted by his own wand.
Wait, what was his holly wand's bonus again? Right—+20%.
Harold remembered even calling that wand his "Golden Legend" at the time… but now, it seemed that title may have been premature.
This yew wand gave a 20% bonus to anyone, and if used by Harry, the bonus jumped to 35%—that was about as high as wand bonuses got.
For comparison, the wand made from McGonagall's hair only gave a 30% boost to Animagus transformations.
Another trait of interest: this wand enhanced Dark Magic.
Well, of course—it was yew. No surprise there.
But why 9%?
Worth noting: his holly wand had a trait called "Courage of Justice", which gave -10% to Dark Magic and +10% to Light Magic.
So the two wands had directly opposing traits—and the holly wand just barely edged out the yew one by 1%.
Harold doubted that was a coincidence.
Wands… always full of secrets to uncover.
Yawning, Harold glanced out the window at the pitch-black sky, changed into pajamas, and drifted off to sleep.
…
The next morning, when he handed the wand to Harry, Harry was stunned.
Truth be told, he had only bought the wand because he'd already agreed to it—backing out would've felt awkward.
But now, with the wand in hand, he suddenly felt those seven Galleons were more than worth it.
The wand felt like an extension of himself.
Sure, his holly wand was great too, but… it was hard to explain.
He glanced down at his breakfast. Oh—it was like the difference between eating steak with utensils and grabbing it with your hands.
All things being equal, using your hands just felt more natural.
That's what this new wand was like—Harry didn't even feel like he was holding a tool for casting spells.
"You've really given me a dilemma, Harold," Harry said, staring at the two wands, clearly conflicted. "Now I don't know which one to use."
"Want my advice?" Harold offered.
"If you're willing, that'd be great," Harry said brightly.
"Just think of them like school robes and pajamas," Harold replied. "For day-to-day use, I'd still recommend your holly wand. But for casual spell practice, this new one is perfect."
"Professor McGonagall does the same," he added.
Though what Harold didn't say was… McGonagall had been using her second wand more and more often.
Back in first year, she'd only pulled it out on rare occasions—like a novelty. But just yesterday, during Transfiguration, she had it in hand again.
Still, that wasn't something he planned to tell Harry.
The holly wand had one distinct advantage no other wand possessed. Until Harry faced Voldemort, it was best not to switch.
Harry accepted the suggestion and tucked the new wand carefully into his pocket.
As he lowered his head, Harold suddenly said, "Hey, there's something on your head."
"What?" Harry ruffled his hair.
"Not there—here." Harold reached out casually and plucked a white feather from his hair.
"Must be from an owl," Harry said offhandedly. "Probably got stuck when they flew in with the mail."
Every morning during breakfast, dozens of owls would swoop into the Great Hall with letters and packages. A stray feather or two was totally normal.
"I figured." Harold flicked the feather aside and brushed his palm against his sleeve cuff.
At the same time, Ron was wolfing down a meat pie. "What's first class today?"
"Potions," Harry replied after checking the schedule. "We should probably finish quickly—definitely not a class to be late for."
"You're right." Ron visibly perked up, speeding up his chewing. "Hermione, pass me the pumpkin—wait, where is she? She was just here."
"No idea," Harry glanced around. "Probably had something else to do and slipped away."
…
(End of Chapter)