It was the next day, as Dumbledore had arrived and he took Him as he looked at the red hair boy.
Thomas looked at Dumbledore as he spoke. "So, how are we gonna get to Diagon Alley".
Dumbledore looked at him as he spoke. "We will be using Apparition, it is a convenient spell, but makes people uncomfortable".
Thomas looked at him as he spoke. "Sounds Fun"
Dumbledore looked at him as he spoke. "Very well then, just keep your stomic together, sometimes new wizard can't handle it".
Thomas felt a blur before his eye's, and then everything starter spinning. However in chaos, he saw clear spatial pattern, a narrow channel barely accommodating Two people.
He felt like he was sucked in a narrow rubber tube and then moved to a different place, but do to Sword God Template he felt noting.
Dumbledore looked at him as he spoke. "We are here, and I hope you are ok, for first time wizard there are some, unwanted Reaction, Do you fell anything?".
Thomas looked at Dumbledore as he spoke. "Nope, I am Fine"
Dumbledore Chuckled as he spoke. "Great, you were born to be a wizard, Wool's Orphanage always produce some genius". Will he said that last part with Trauma in his eyes. "But anyway, let's continue".
As they stepped into the bustling, hidden street of Diagon Alley, Thomas couldn't help but pause. The cobbled pathway curved ahead, lined with crooked, colorful shops. Wizards and witches of all ages moved about, bartering, chatting, and casting small spells.
"This… this is magic," Thomas whispered, eyes wide—not in surprise, but in appreciation.
Dumbledore smiled at the boy's reaction. "Indeed. Diagon Alley is the heart of our world's commerce. And today, you'll get everything you need for your first year at Hogwarts."
Thomas made a mental note of the shops: Potions supplies, wandmakers, robes, spell books… magical ingredients… All of it fascinating, and all of it potentially exploitable. He filed it away, already plotting how to improve, copy, or monetize it in the future.
Their first stop was Gringotts.
The goblin at the counter narrowed his eyes at them. Dumbledore handed over a key and gestured for Thomas to follow.
As they rode the cart down into the depths of the bank, Thomas felt nothing—again, thanks to his refined spiritual sense and enhanced body. While Dumbledore seemed amused by his calm, the goblin only grunted in approval.
At the vault, Dumbledore gestured. "Some funds have been set aside for your supplies by Hogwarts. A special exception."
"Thanks," Thomas said, stepping in and quickly doing calculations on how much gold he could save, hide, and reinvest.
Dumbledore looked at him as he spoke. "Come, we shall be getting your Wand now".
Thomans noded, as they took some of the Money, as they started to make there way Ollivanders shop, as they started to make way there, as Thomas stopped.
Dumbledore stoped as he looked at Thomas. "Thomas, is everything Ok?".
He looked at what Thomas was seeing, if was well build shop, with golden letter, it was seemed to new, and probably was opened for 3 to 4 months, as the words said "Sword's Master Workshop".
Dumbledore followed Thomas's gaze and paused. "Ah," he said softly, raising an eyebrow. "I haven't seen that one before. Must be a recent addition to the Alley."
Thomas took a step closer to the shop, something about it tugging at him—deeply, instinctively. The sword aura, faint as it was, pulsed gently through the shop's walls. It was subtle—no one else would feel it—but to Thomas, it felt like home.
He turned to Dumbledore. "Can we… check it out first?"
Dumbledore looked at the sign again, thoughtful. "It's quite unusual to see a swordsmith in Diagon Alley. Most wizards rely solely on wands… But I suppose there's no harm in indulging curiosity."
With that, they stepped inside.
The moment Thomas crossed the threshold, he felt it—a resonance, like the vibration of a blade just after being drawn. The shop was quiet, its interior filled with racks of gleaming swords, curved and straight, long and short, each radiating a unique presence. Magic lingered over each one, but it wasn't the same as wand magic—it was sharper, denser, more focused.
Behind the counter stood a tall, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair tied back, his eyes calm and piercing. He looked at Thomas for a long moment before nodding once.
"You're the one who felt the call," the man said, voice low and sure.
Thomas's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
The swordsmith gave a small smile. "You'll understand in time. For now… have a look. You may find something meant for you."
Thomas slowly stepped toward a sword mounted on the wall. It wasn't the largest or the most ornate—but its balance, its energy, felt right. His hand hovered near it, and as his fingers brushed the hilt—
The air shifted.
A faint hum filled the room. Dumbledore tensed slightly. The sword trembled—and then, without any incantation or push, it released from its mount and dropped gently into Thomas's waiting hand.
The swordsmith's eyes widened just a fraction. "So it begins."
Thomas, heart steady, spoke calmly. "I'll take this one."
Dumbledore blinked. "You haven't even been to Ollivanders yet…"
Thomas glanced down at the blade, then up at him with a grin. "Well, Headmaster… I guess I'll be a student who's double-wielding."
The swordsmith then looked at Thomas as he spoke. "Now, before you do buy this one, swing it around, the materials to make a sword in the Wizard World are the same as Wand's".
Thomas srugged as he took a deep breath and started to channel the Sword Qi in the Air, Sword Qi was different from Magic, as it was there, but unlike in Cultivation worlds, where Qi was Ultimate and large amour this world didn't have that.
It took Thomas 10 year's of his life, to fully gathering Sword Qi, making a core and store in his body, making sure he has enough to at least reach the first stage of the Sword God, but now his Process has gotten faster.
Thomans then swings the sword, the blade crackers and bend ss it broke, as The Swordsmith and Dumbledore looked at him
"Oops".
The Swordsmith laughed as he spoke. "I see, with that much power, this is the one from you, Made from the Bones of a Dragon, Feather of Phoenix and Core fo Unicorn"
The swordsmith walked up to Box, as he pulled out, as he shows to Thomans, he opend the Box, as there it was, it was Sword his size, with faint magic coming out it, the Metal was that's of a crimson with it having a Dragon like degine, the hilt was black colour with a red Gem.
"It will grow with, literally it maybe be small now".
Thomas stared at the sword inside the box.
It radiated an ancient power—subtle, yet undeniable. The crimson blade almost seemed to breathe, pulsing faintly in resonance with his own Sword Qi. The black hilt felt carved for his grip, and the red gem embedded in it glowed ever so slightly as his fingers drew closer.
The swordsmith's voice lowered with respect. "This blade was a failure to others. Too temperamental. Too reactive. It rejected every master I tried to pair it with… until now."
Thomas looked up at him. "Why?"
The swordsmith smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Because it wasn't made for wizards. It was made for someone like you—someone whose will sharpens the air around them. Someone who sees the world not just as spells and charms… but as lines waiting to be cut."
Thomas gently reached out, gripping the hilt. The moment his fingers curled around it—
The sword sang.
A sharp, high-pitched hum filled the shop. It wasn't loud—but it was pure. Dumbledore took a step back, his expression unreadable as Thomas lifted the sword and gave it a single test swing.
This time, it didn't bend.
Instead, a clean arc of silver light followed the edge of the blade—brief, but beautiful. The sword seemed to settle in his hand like it had always been there.
The swordsmith exhaled. "It's yours now. No charge. That sword wouldn't accept anyone else anyway."
Thomas looked at him. "You sure? That's gotta be worth more than—"
The man shook his head. "Just promise me one thing, Sword Child: don't become a tyrant."
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't planning to."
"Good," the smith said, locking the empty box. "Because with that blade… you could."
Dumbledore's voice broke the silence. "Well, Mr. Thomas… after this, I'm even more curious to see what wand chooses you."
Thomas sheathed the blade across his back and smirked. "Let's find out, then."
Dumbledore looked at Thomas he spoke. "Now let's get going, we have more things to Buy".
Thomas looked at Dumbledore as he puts back in the Box, as they put in Thomas Bag, as they made there way to Ollivanders Shop.
They arrived to a small shop, it was Shaddy with a fadded Golden sigh on the door, that read: "Ollivanders - Makers of fine wand's sense 382 B.C."
They walked in as Dumbledore looked at Ollivanders. "Old friend, it has been a while, how have you been".
Ollivanders an old man, maybe as old as Dumbledore looked up. "Old Friend, it has been a while, why haven't you come to visit"
Dumbledore Chuckled as he spoke. "Oh, I have busy that is all".
Ollivanders looked at Thomas as he spoke. "I see, a new student".
Dumbledore looked at him as he spoke. "Yes, he is also from that Orphenes"
Ollivanders looker at the red hair boy as he spoke. "I see, will hopefully he doesn't follow in his footstep". Ollivanders then pulled out a long Tape measure, as he looked at Thomas. "Tell me Thomas, which arm do you use your Wands?".
Thomas looked at him, as he spoke. "My Right arm, that is my Dominion Arm".
Ollivanders noded as he spoke. "Very well, let's see".
He measure his arm, as then he went to a Box, as he pulled out a Wand. "Here try this one, it is Made of Chestnut and Phoenix Feather core. Twelve and a Half Inches Long".
Thomas took the wand as he spoke. "Let's see".
He waves around and set something on fire, as almost like he was going to summon a Phoenix, as Dumbledore stopped.
Ollivanders Chuckled as he spoke. "It seems like that one was not for you, try this one 8 inch's Made Of Hornbeam and Great Wolf Core, try it"
Thomas took the wand, he swings and black smoke came out, covering everyone as they caught.
Ollivanders looked at him as he spoke. "Not this one either, let's see"
After a while, he started to look around a bit, before he came back with a different wand.
"This one it is made Tail Feather from a particular Ancient Phoenix Bird, The Core of Ancient Dragon and the wood of a 100 year old Elder Tree, it is Twelve inch's Long, this is my life best work.
Thomans just sighed as he spoke in his mind. "Please let this work Multiverse".
Thomas reached out and grasped the wand.
The moment his fingers closed around the wood, the entire room shifted.
A warm breeze stirred the dust in the air. The shelves creaked. Every other wand in the shop seemed to hum in resonance—low, trembling notes, as though acknowledging something ancient… something dangerous.
A thin, golden glow wrapped around Thomas's arm, spiraling like a snake up toward his shoulder before fading.
Ollivander blinked, then took a small step back. "Oh my…"
Dumbledore raised a brow. "Remarkable. It seems the wand… no, they chose each other."
Thomas raised the wand slightly, feeling how it extended his awareness—not like a sword, which channeled his will through pure force and control, but like a whisper in the wind, a ripple in water, ready to reshape the world with precision.
He gave it a test flick.
A bright whoosh of air burst through the room, rustling papers and coats—but nothing was broken. It was power, restrained yet ready. Controlled destruction. Pure potential.
Ollivander looked both amazed and disturbed. "That wand… it was made as a passion project, never intended for sale. It rejected every wizard I offered it to over the years. But you—"
Thomas interrupted, slipping the wand gently into his inner pocket. "Guess it was just waiting for the right chaos."
Dumbledore gave a small, thoughtful smile. "I think we're done here. Let's get the rest of your supplies."
As they stepped outside, Thomas whispered to himself, "Sword God Template… wand that reacts like a dragon… this world doesn't know what it's in for."
Ollivanders looked at Dumbledore as saw Thomas. "Dumbledore are you sure they Orphenes is not under a spell, he is even stronger then the last one".
Dumbledore glanced at Thomas, who was inspecting the wand as if testing the balance of a blade.
He gave a quiet sigh, his expression unreadable. "No spell, Garrick. He's simply… different."
Ollivander narrowed his eyes. "The wand didn't just accept him—it revered him. I felt it. It bowed. Only once before have I seen such a reaction, and we both know how that turned out."
Dumbledore's lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes… I remember. But Thomas is not him. He's sharper—calmer. There's a storm in him, yes, but it's not wild. It's... focused."
Ollivander shook his head slowly. "Wool's Orphanage... again. It's like fate plays tricks with that place."
Thomas, unaware—or pretending to be—turned back toward them. "Are we done here? I still have to buy robes, books, and probably a new bag to carry all this weight."
Dumbledore chuckled, returning to his warm persona. "Yes, yes. Let's not keep the rest of Diagon Alley waiting."
As they stepped out onto the cobbled street, Ollivander watched them go, murmuring under his breath: "Another boy from Wool's… but this one might change everything."
They made their way down the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, passing cauldron shops, potion supply stands, and loud, enchanted displays showing magical textbooks flipping their own pages.
Eventually, they arrived at a more refined-looking storefront: Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
Dumbledore gently opened the door, the soft chime of a bell ringing overhead. Inside, the air smelled of new fabric and faint lavender, and mannequins dressed in Hogwarts uniforms lined the walls.
A kindly witch with pinned-up gray hair appeared from the back. "Ah, Headmaster Dumbledore! And who is this fine young gentleman?"
"Thomas," Dumbledore replied, with a hint of pride. "Incoming first-year. He'll need the full set."
Madam Malkin smiled warmly. "Right this way, dear. Stand on the stool. Arms out."
Thomas complied, though a touch of impatience lingered in his posture. As the measuring tape floated into the air and began circling his frame, he muttered under his breath, "Tailor magic. What a cheat code."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing," Thomas replied quickly, giving a small smile.
Just then, the door opened, and in walked a boy with a slightly too-proud gait, sandy blond hair, and pale skin.
"Oh, new student too?" the boy asked, stepping onto the stool beside Thomas.
Thomas glanced at him and immediately recognized the name from memory. Lucius Malfoy.
"Yeah," Thomas said neutrally.
Lucius gave him a quick glance, his eyes pausing on Thomas's red hair. "Weasley?"
Thomas groaned loudly. "No. Just red hair. Not a Weasley."
Madam Malkin chuckled. "He gets that a lot."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Well, you carry yourself too confidently to be one, I suppose."
Thomas smirked. "Likewise. You're too pleasant for a Malfoy."
Lucius tilted his head in surprise—then gave a small laugh. "Touché."
Dumbledore, meanwhile, just smiled behind his half-moon spectacles. "It seems the school year is going to be… interesting."
Thomas looked around the Hogwarts Uniform, as he looked at Madam Malkin's. "Miss can I try something".
Madam Malkin's spoke. "What may it be"
"Is it ok, if I make some adjustments to try Uniform". Thomas siad looking at her.
Madam Malkin looker at as she spoke, feeling like her expertise was being Questioned. "I um, I see, if that what you wish."
Thomas spoke in his head. "Great Going, you made an Old Lady Sad".
Thomas was then given a drawing Paper and drawing Pen, as he started to sketch out what he had in mind, Lucius looked at what Thomas was doing as he was very curious on what he was doing.
It was the uniform of the Mage's Association of the Type-Moon world, which sense the Secires hasn't been created yeat, this was all brand new, with it he also drew matching shirts, vest, trousers, and so on.
As Thomas continued sketching, his strokes were precise and confident, each line breathing life into the sophisticated, almost arcane elegance of the design. The uniform blended traditional wizarding robes with a modern twist—sharp cuts, layered coats, gold and silver trim with subtle magical runes incorporated into the hems. The design screamed "elegant magical scholar" rather than "boarding school student."
Lucius leaned in slightly. "That's… impressive. You've done this before?"
Thomas shrugged. "In a past life, maybe."
Madam Malkin cautiously peered over his shoulder, her frown slowly softening into surprise. "Oh… this is quite refined. Unique tailoring… layered fabrics, enchanted threading points…" Her eyes sparkled. "You've got a real sense for magical fashion, dear."
Thomas rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks. I just… wanted to look like a badass who reads."
Lucius chuckled. "I'd commission one of these if it means standing out."
Madam Malkin nodded firmly. "I'll need a few days for this. It's more complex than standard Hogwarts robes, but I must say, it'll be the most stylish set in the school."
Dumbledore, who had been browsing a rack of pointy hats with mild interest, returned just in time to catch the final sketch.
He smiled knowingly. "I see you're already reshaping the wizarding world, Mr. Thomas."
Thomas replied with a small smirk. "One uniform at a time."
Madam Malkin looked at Thomas she spoke. "I will say one thing dear, maybe in the future more student's in Hogwarts and other magic School will wear this".
Thomas nodded politely, but inside, he was grinning like a madman.
"If I'm stuck in the past, I might as well modernize it." he thought. "Step one: uniforms. Step two: magical tech. Step three: rewrite the future."
Madam Malkin began gathering fabric samples, already brainstorming how to replicate the detailed runes and trims. "This will take some time, dear, but you'll have your standard robes for now while I craft these… custom ones."
Lucius whispered under his breath, "You're going to cause quite the stir at Hogwarts."
Thomas smirked. "That's the plan."
To be continued