Diagon Alley.
A place where witches and wizards gathered in the late 16th century to hide from witch-hunts.
Hidden by the then-newly created so-called No-Maj defensive enchantment, it became a safe zone where witches and wizards could conceal themselves.
The No-Maj defensive enchantment works by measuring a person's connection to magic.
Anyone whose magical connection is 10% or greater has the ability to enter Diagon Alley.
If this condition is not met, the enchanted place is considered "meaningless."
Back to the history of Diagon Alley.
Over the centuries it became the most prominent shopping center for witches and wizards.
Whether for potion ingredients,
brooms,
or all sorts of accessories...
Diagon Alley buzzed with people.
Many wore clothing from the Victorian era.
Unlike in the films or books, I saw fewer people wearing "wizarding cloaks."
Trench coats and dresses were much more common in reality...
Not to forget the witch hats that adorned the heads of witches and wizards.
A large crowd jostled in Diagon Alley.
This was not surprising; after all, it was August 25th.
One week before the start of the school year.
Excited young witches and wizards ran through the streets and bickered about the newest broom: the Comet 110.
Mothers and fathers talked animatedly with acquaintances.
Most of the witches and wizards were at the third or fourth maturity level.
Students or children were usually at the 2nd–3rd maturity level.
"No wizards of the 5th maturity level?" I thought, my golden eyes glowing hypnotically.
Well, that was to be expected—one is considered a rare genius to reach that level.
I wore a white shirt with blue trousers.
Absentmindedly I ran my fingers through my golden hair, which fell almost to my shoulders.
I made my way to my destination.
Ollivanders.
My appearance attracted all sorts of attention.
Especially my hypnotic golden eyes.
Like a trance, people were drawn in; I quote the witch at my right: "Ooh, such beautiful golden eyes."
For two years I had kept my inner gift constantly activated.
This was only possible because of my special ability:
I can absorb magical particles.
To this day I have perfected the technique so that I can absorb magical energy while I move.
Wherever I moved, particles of every color streamed toward me and passively filled my magical core.
The side effect of over-absorption has been resolved.
In a way, I had to reduce the amount of magical energy I accumulated in order to attract magical particles.
Also, I absorb the magical particles directly so that no "clump" of magic forms that would continuously attract particles until it spiraled out of control...
Passive absorption became as natural as breathing.
I practiced it at all times.
At night while I slept. While I ate. While I read or practiced magic...
As a result, my magical control and my magical core had improved and grown massively.
The problem with my natural Occlumency was therefore partly solved.
Although my magical core is still rather below average compared to wizards of the 3rd maturity level, my magical absorption compensates for it.
As I said, my inner gift—Eyes of Mysteries—was activated all the time; unfortunately it also has a hypnotic effect on people with weak willpower.
Whatever.
I was standing in front of a shop.
Dirty, dusty, large windows flanked the door on both sides.
Wands rested on floating red cushions.
I examined the blue runes that made the cushions hover.
The Gravity Rune: ⟐𐰃 comes from the Elder Futhark.
This rune can set a small mass outside of gravity. Gravity runes are used almost everywhere to make light objects float.
Spells like Ascendio or Arresto Momentum were inspired by this rune.
Well, many spells were inspired by runes.
Above the door was written: "Ollivanders — Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."
"382 before Christ?"
No-Maj culture had really had a huge influence on the wizarding world.
We didn't even have our own calendar.
So... disappointing, I thought, and sighed.
But what did I expect?
With a surge of magical force I opened the door telekinetically.
A loud bell rang.
I stepped into the dusty wand shop, known for making the best wands in all of Europe.
Tall, dusty shelves surrounded me, filled with boxes that contained wands. Only the enchanted cupboards prevented the thousands of boxes from falling from the shelves.
The gentle, pleasant scent of magical ingredients wafted to my nose.
Surprisingly, the counter was clean—not a speck of dust to be found.
A smoky voice called: "Wait a moment... I'll be right there!"
Heavy footsteps came from the back of the shop.
Out came Garrick Ollivander.
Brown, messy hair stuck up from his head. He wore a brown trench coat with a loose tie. Intelligent grey eyes peeked out from beneath his tousled hair.
Garrick Ollivander looked as if he had just gotten up.
Through my inner gift I perceived something far more interesting.
The man before me was a wizard of the 5th maturity level. His connection to magic was 90.1 percent.
His eyebrows shot up.
"Well, well, if that isn't a Shafiq."
He cleared his throat briefly: "Good afternoon, Mr. Shafiq, may Mother Magic bless you. What can I do for you?"
"Good afternoon, Master Ollivander. May Mother Magic bless you as well."
"I would like to have a wand made," I answered, bowing my head slightly.
A sign of respect for a higher-maturity wizard.
"Oh, yes, of course, of course—wait a moment," he replied absentmindedly.
He scratched his scalp while waving his wand.
Over his shoulder he asked me, "Which is your wand hand?"
"My left," I answered.
Out of nowhere a measuring tape and a papyrus roll with a pen materialized and hovered in the air.
The tape measured my hand and performed all kinds of measurements.
The width and length of my fingers.
The size of my forearm.
The length from my shoulder to my hand.
Meanwhile the pen wrote my measurements on the papyrus roll, producing a faint scratching sound.
My attention returned to the counter where Garrick Ollivander stood.
He snapped his fingers and the papyrus with my measurements appeared.
He grabbed a quill at the edge of the counter and wrote out several equations.
I studied the equations with interest.
"If I may ask, Master Ollivander, what is the purpose of these equations?"
Without looking up he answered, "Through Arithmancy you can minimize the wand-finding process."
"That is why I took those measurements," he added.
For a few seconds he wrote formulas quickly...
"Well, well—shall we begin?"
He waved his wand and silver magical particles formed around him.
A bright wand appeared in his hand.
"Yew, 25.5 cm, rigid, with a core of dragon heartstring."
My golden eyes scanned the wand and immediately noticed a discrepancy.
Before my hand could touch the wand, Ollivander snatched it out of my reach.
"No, no! That is certainly not it," he said almost panicked.
"Try this one."
He handed me a dark wand, about 26 cm long.
Again I noticed a discrepancy in the wand's magical signature.
When I touched it, it vibrated and recoiled like a frightened, unworthy creature.
This procedure repeated a few more times.
Finally, he pulled out the wand...
"Dawncedar, 34.25 cm, quite rigid, with a Thestral tail hair core."
Dark wood like night stretched along the wand. The higher toward the tip, the lighter it became, until it reached a bright white.
Before my hand reached the wand, my magical core already quivered with excitement.
Golden waves, visible only to me, streamed from me and unknowingly strengthened gravity around me.
Just before it reached my palm, it flew from Garrick Ollivander's hand to mine.
Magic poured from every part of my body.
The golden waves streaming out of me intensified and made my surroundings vibrate.
My attention, however, was fixed on the wand.
It practically throbbed with excitement and magical power.
A rare smile appeared on my otherwise expressionless face.
"Well, well, Mr. Shafiq—it appears you have found your partner. This particular wand is characteristic for witches and wizards who often bring new insights into the magical world or bring about change."
"On the other hand, the core..."
A short pause.
"Thestral tail hair is normally very difficult to tame and leads to temperamental wands. In your case, however, ...it seems that the wand with the Thestral tail hair is very interesting..."
I absorbed the information but my focus remained on my new wand.
"Well, Mr. Shafiq, I hope you are not dissatisfied with your counterpart... although I cannot imagine being disappointed with this specimen."
I came out of my trance.
"Thank you very much, Master Ollivander. How much do I owe you?"
"Seventy-five Galleons," he answered.
Despite the high price I was not surprised.
In reality, the usual seven Galleons were out of my reach.
Since seventy-five Galleons is a fortune for some families, it is compensated by the Ministry of Magic. The Shafiq family has considerable wealth, so they do not receive social benefits.
I handed him a slip of paper marked with complicated runes.
"You can deduct it from Vault Number 112."
Ollivander took the paper from my hand and inspected it briefly.
"I wish you a pleasant afternoon, Master Ollivander. May Mother Magic bless you with luck," I said as I took my leave.
"You too—may Lady Magic bless you."
I turned, wand in hand, and headed for the exit.
A smoky voice made me pause.
"Give my regards to Morganna, Mr. Aurelius."
My eyes widened.
Surprised, I turned around.
"I will, Master Ollivander... have a good day."
Finally I turned toward the entrance.
I opened the door wandless and stepped out.
The usual loud, magic-humming Diagon Alley greeted me.
***
[A/N:
Hey! I hope you're well.
How was the chapter?
Good?
Mid?
It could be worse.
Criticism is appreciated.
Have a good day!
]
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