Marius's expression shifted slightly as he asked, "If their wand shafts are already so extraordinary, then their cores must be even more remarkable, right?"
"You're absolutely right," Ollivander nodded gravely. "And more than that, the two wands also share a mysterious connection—a tale that dates back over a century, back when I was still a boy following my father around the shop."
"My goodness, a hundred years ago?"
Mr. and Mrs. Granger were wide-eyed in awe, their gazes filled with reverence and fascination. It wasn't every day one stood face-to-face with living history.
Ollivander gave them a courteous nod, then continued:
"At that time, something monumental occurred in the British wizarding world. It was so severe that the Ministry of Magic mobilized nearly every top-tier wizard they had. Of course, some members of that elite response unit were hired privately by my father, who had considerable wealth and connections."
"A response unit?" Marius asked. "Were they chasing after someone?"
"No." Ollivander shook his head. "They were tracking two dragons. Not ordinary dragons, mind you—these were of species never recorded before. Their strength exceeded that of all known magical creatures. The great incident of that era was caused by the battle between these two dragons, a clash so devastating that their battleground spanned nearly a thousand miles."
"The so-called pursuit team wasn't truly hunting them," Ollivander explained. "They were merely following the dragons' trail, constantly rotating shifts to cast spells that covered up the devastation, and performing memory charms on any Muggles who witnessed the destruction. The scope of the damage was so vast, the aftermath alone wore the entire squad to exhaustion."
"Then how did you defeat them in the end?" Marius asked, frowning. From the way Ollivander described them, these dragons sounded like forces of nature—far beyond what even elite wizards could handle.
"Who said we defeated them?" Ollivander gave Marius a pointed look. "The black one was nearly immune to all Dark Arts, while the white one nullified every other form of magic. The task force couldn't do anything against them."
"…Fair enough," Marius muttered, scratching his nose in embarrassment. If they had been able to handle the dragons, the Ministry wouldn't have spent all its time covering things up rather than engaging them directly.
"In the end, the dragons killed each other—mutual destruction," Ollivander said, sighing. "Because my father was the chief private investor in the operation, he was given first choice of the remains. He selected the reverse scales and the heart tendons from both beasts. The Ministry, having expended so much in resources and manpower, took the rest of the corpses."
"But that's of little importance," he added with a sudden gleam in his eye. "Because the most valuable parts… were already ours."
Marius raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Ollivander chuckled proudly. "My father didn't craft them into wands himself. No—he believed the materials were too exceptional. Instead, he left them to me, believing that even in my youth, I showed greater talent than he ever had."
"I waited until I reached the prime of my skill. I spent years agonizing over the right materials to pair with such rare cores, but no wood ever felt right. Then, one day, a flash of insight hit me. I finally understood why Father had chosen the reverse scales."
"Why should I limit myself to wood at all?" Ollivander's eyes sparkled with passion. "I locked myself away for half a year, experimenting and refining, until I finally developed a technique to intricately fold the reverse scales—and forge them into wand shafts."
"When I finished the shafts, I was ecstatic. I then implanted the tendon cores from the dragons' hearts, and thus completed my finest wands."
He paused, taking a deep breath. "But sadly, no suitable wielder ever came. I sealed them away, placing them deep in the shop's oldest shelf. And just when I believed I might go to my grave never seeing them awaken…"
Ollivander's voice trembled with emotion as he looked at Marius.
"You appeared."
There was no doubt in his tone—this was the moment he had waited his whole life for. A wand may be a masterpiece, but it is not complete until it chooses a master. And now, that moment had finally come.
"Take them, young Marius," he said gently, smiling with paternal warmth. "Congratulations. You've earned the right to tame these proud and powerful little creatures."
Marius took a deep breath and stepped forward, reaching out with both hands.
The moment he gripped the wands—one black, one white—the tension in the air vanished. What moments ago had been fierce, restless artifacts were now utterly obedient, as if they had found where they truly belonged.
"These wands are far too valuable to be taken as gifts," Marius said respectfully. "Name your price, Mr. Ollivander."
But Ollivander shook his head firmly.
"You've helped me fulfill a lifelong wish," he said with deep sincerity. "Let that be the payment. These wands are a gift—for that, and for what I know you'll become."
Marius looked at the man's peaceful expression. He said no more. With silent reverence, he tucked the twin wands away with care.
Beside them, the Grangers were still reeling from the history they had just heard. A tale stretching across a hundred years, two legendary dragons, and now—this boy beside their daughter was bound to something grander than they could've imagined.
But Ollivander hadn't forgotten Hermione.
He turned toward her with a kindly smile and said,
"Now then, young lady, it's your turn. Which hand do you use to hold your wand?"
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T/N:
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