"Good morning!" an old man with very light-coloured pupils stood before them. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Molly Prewett. It's truly delightful. Twelve inches long, cherry wood, quite powerful; that's a good wand for casting spells."
"Yes, Mr. Ollivander, I'm very fond of this wand," Mrs. Weasley quickly stood to greet him. "This boy is Aiven Mason, and this is my daughter, Ginny Weasley. They are both new students at Hogwarts this year and need new wands."
"Of course, of course!" Ollivander's gaze turned to Ginny and Aiven, who stood by. "Wizards need wands to cast magic, but remember, the wand chooses the wizard!"
Aiven swallowed, unsure how to respond.
"Alright, let me see!" Ollivander didn't pause. He pulled a long, silver-marked tape measure from his robe and approached Ginny. "Ladies first, Ms. Weasley. Which hand do you use to wield your wand?"
"My right hand, I think," Ginny whispered.
"Please raise your arm." Ollivander measured Ginny, first from shoulder to fingertip, then from wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and finally her head circumference.
As he measured, he explained to Ginny and Aiven, "Every Ollivander wand possesses extraordinary magical substance, which is its very essence. We typically use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, and dragon heartstrings. Every Ollivander wand is unique, as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are exactly alike. Of course, if you use a wand meant for another wizard, it will never work as well."
"Always remember this: the wand chooses the wizard!"
As soon as he finished speaking, he disappeared among the densely packed shelves. Before Aiven could even sigh with relief, he saw Ollivander emerge with a box.
"Undoubtedly, the Weasley family is very favoured by unicorns, there's no question about that," Ollivander said softly. "Try this one, fourteen inches, ebony, unicorn hair, a bit bendy."
Ginny had barely grasped it before he took it back.
"No, I think it should be this one, made of willow and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches long, very flexible!"
As soon as Ginny took it, a red light burst from the tip of the wand she held, sparkling like fireworks, with dancing specks of light projected onto the walls.
"A remarkable combination, very suitable for manipulating spells. Your Charms class will surely yield excellent results." Then, Ollivander turned to Aiven and said softly, "Mr. Mason, I believe it's your turn."
Like Ginny, Aiven also used his right hand for the wand, and the measurement process was the same. However, his selection process was not as straightforward as Ginny's. Aiven tried one wand after another, but as soon as he held them, Ollivander snatched them away, making him feel a bit foolish.
"Just like Mr. Potter last year, a discerning customer. But it's alright, you'll always find the ideal, most perfect, most suitable one for you here!" Ollivander seemed pleased. "Let me think, oh, I have it! Fourteen and a half inches, vine wood, with a Thestral tail-hair core. This was the last wand my great-grandfather made, and he was a very famous wandmaker in his time."
As soon as Aiven took it, a warm current surged from his fingertips, and the tip of the wand emitted a white glow, spreading outwards in ripples like those in water.
"Wonderful, truly wonderful!" Ollivander's voice grew even softer. "I don't particularly like using Thestral tail-hair, but I must say, Mr. Mason, you and this wand are indeed a very wonderful combination."
"Excuse me, sir!" When only the two of them were left in the room, Aiven asked in a low voice, "What did you find wonderful just now?"
Aiven was indeed curious; the core of the wand in his hand was Thestral tail-hair, which was different from other wands Ollivander made.
"As is well known, Thestrals are considered a symbol of ill omen," Ollivander said, staring at Aiven with his milky-white pupils. "It's a very peculiar substance; only a wizard who can command death can control it."
Ollivander's voice seemed to float down from the sky. Hearing his explanation, Aiven felt an urge to throw away the wand in his hand. Peculiar, death, ill omen—he didn't want to be seen as the Dark Lord's successor as soon as he entered school.
"Mr. Mason, the magic you just emitted possessed a very strong positive energy, an energy completely opposite to Thestral tail-hair, which is why I said it was truly wonderful," Ollivander leaned close to Aiven's face, his voice a mere whisper. "Remember, the wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Mason. Without a doubt, you will achieve extraordinary things in the future."
Aiven felt a chill down his spine, as if all his secrets had been seen through. He was certain he wouldn't like this Mr. Ollivander.
After leaving the wand shop, he let out a heavy sigh of relief.
Next, Mrs. Weasley led Aiven and Ginny to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. However, compared to earlier, Ginny was in low spirits because she had to choose a suitable uniform from the old robes there. Aiven found this incredibly cruel, especially as he watched Ginny's sad expression from a distance while Madam Malkin measured him. He felt like a sinner.
"Mrs. Weasley, thank you for inviting me to your home."
"Dear Aiven, you don't have to be so polite. You and Harry are good children, and Arthur and I are very happy to have you both at our home," Mrs. Weasley walked over, ruffled Aiven's hair, and looked pleased.
"Thank you. I'd like to give you a gift as a token of my gratitude!"
Aiven said somewhat awkwardly, "If you don't mind, I'd like to buy Ginny a new robe."
"No, child, that's far too expensive!" Mrs. Weasley looked astonished, while Ginny, standing nearby, looked up with anticipation.
"It's nothing to me." Seeming to sense Mrs. Weasley's intention to refuse, Aiven continued speaking rapidly, giving her no time to react. "You can consider it my Christmas gift to Ginny. After all, we're already friends."
More than ten minutes later, with Aiven's persistent persuasion, Ginny's hopeful gaze, and Madam Malkin's agreement to give a very reasonable discount, Mrs. Weasley finally agreed to accept the gift. The next second, she hugged Aiven tightly. Looking at Ginny's flushed face and Madam Malkin's knowing smile, Aiven felt embarrassed for a long time.