Chapter 5: Preparations Before the Start of Term
Although Siron didn't need a new wand, there were still plenty of other things he had to buy.
From the age of six until eleven, Siron had been coming to Diagon Alley regularly. By now, nearly all the shop owners here knew him. They didn't even need to open his envelope to check the Hogwarts acceptance letter—just by taking a walk outside, Siron already knew exactly what he needed.
"Little Siron, I knew you'd be coming. The new books are all here, already wrapped up…"
"Thank you, Madam Blotts. Then how much do I owe you…?"
"Two Galleons total. How's that discount?"
"Impossible to refuse," Siron said sincerely.
Eight books for two Galleons—Madam Blotts of Flourish and Blotts was clearly charging him little more than the cost price.
That kind of favor definitely had nothing to do with Siron himself. It was probably because of Ollivander.
Paying him back for the discount on his first wand?
Maybe.
After that, Siron bought a full set of pewter cauldrons, a brass telescope, a standard-measured pack of potion ingredients, and three sets of plain robes, including gloves and cloaks. Every purchase came with discounts no ordinary customer could ever get, saving him quite a bit of money.
The apothecary owner even prepared potion ingredients well above the standard amount—about one and a half portions.
The items themselves weren't particularly expensive, but the gesture carried a lot of goodwill. Siron didn't stand on ceremony, smiling as he accepted everything.
Except at Eeylops Owl Emporium.
Siron had no idea why the shop owner, Madam Theodore, was so enthusiastic, insisting on giving him an owl for free as a back-to-school gift.
That thing wasn't cheap at all. Even the most common breeds cost ten Galleons, and better ones could easily double that. Naturally, Siron refused.
Looking at the shop owner—an elderly woman of about sixty—Siron scratched his head in confusion.
To be honest, he really wasn't familiar with Madam Theodore. He'd barely met her a few times, so he genuinely couldn't understand why she was being so warm and generous.
Out of caution, Siron declined such an expensive gift. But she was far too persistent, and in the end, with no other choice, Siron reluctantly picked another pet instead.
A tabby cat… probably.
It looked similar to a tabby, but the fur color wasn't very pretty—rather patchy and dull, grayish overall.
When Siron noticed it, it was curled up in a corner with a ginger, flat-faced long-haired cat. Both were completely ignored, even though the price was genuinely cheap.
One Galleon—only five Sickles more than the cheapest rat, and even cheaper than most toads.
That was precisely why Siron chose it.
At that price, he could accept it with a clear conscience. As for why he didn't choose the ginger one… mainly because he didn't have a hobby of collecting crushed soda cans—especially already flattened ones.
Despite Madam Theodore repeatedly persuading him to exchange it for a better-looking, gentler purebred cat at the same price, Siron remained firm.
Until he figured out her true intentions, he had no plans to accept such excessive goodwill.
In fact, he even wanted to pay for the cat, but Madam Theodore refused, insisting that Siron had done her a great favor.
"That cat is very fierce. You'd better be careful at school, or it might eat someone else's pet rat or toad."
Siron looked at the tabby sprawled lazily over his arm and remained skeptical of Madam Theodore's warning.
Of course, even if it really was fierce, it didn't matter. Once he got to Hogwarts, he probably wouldn't have much time to take care of a pet anyway. A bit of wildness might actually make it more self-sufficient.
…
An hour later, fully loaded with purchases, Siron pushed open the door to the wand shop.
He planned to give the enthusiastic shop owners a wand-care kit as a return gift before school started, along with a sheet of specially made wand stickers.
The stickers were something he had come up with last year, inspired by Chocolate Frog cards. They moved, but wouldn't suddenly disappear.
Plenty of people didn't mind spending a single Sickle to stick a Dumbledore onto their wand.
Ollivander, however, had always felt that this thing was basically scamming people. Even when he agreed to let them be displayed in the shop, he never actively promoted them. As a result, only a small number of people knew about them, and sales were mediocre.
Oh, and there were also custom color sprays that could change the color of a wand. But Ollivander absolutely refused to let Siron sell those in the shop, no matter what, so Siron had no choice but to lock them away in a box.
This time, though, he planned to bring them to school and see if he could sell them there.
Deep down, Siron knew exactly why Ollivander was against it. Wands needed concealment—especially for dangerous jobs like Aurors. Having the same color as wood was the best camouflage.
That was why most wands came in shades of brown, dark brown, or black.
Just imagine a nighttime operation where someone whoosh pulls out a bright red wand—it would be ridiculously eye-catching, basically the same as holding up a Lumos.
At Hogwarts, however, it wouldn't be a problem. Students didn't need to fight at night.
And besides, at that age—being a little rebellious and unique—who could resist dyeing their wand a distinctive color?
As he thought about this, Siron opened a small pouch. Inside were a little over thirty Galleons, along with a few silver Sickles.
This was all the pocket money he had so far.
For someone his age, it really wasn't a small amount. After all, most first-year students only had seven or eight Galleons for an entire school year.
But Siron also had plenty of expenses. Making wands cost money—the cores were expensive, and suitable wood for wand bodies wasn't cheap either.
And once school started, he wouldn't be able to freely dip into the family stores anymore. Anything he wanted, he'd have to buy himself.
Thinking it over like that, thirty Galleons really wasn't enough…
Maybe I'll make the gold and red sprays limited editions and double the price. Yeah, green and silver triple the price…
Siron quietly made a decision in his heart.
Definitely not targeting anyone in particular. He wasn't that kind of person.
…
After first witnessing the wonders of the magical world, some Muggle-born young witches and wizards simply couldn't bear to leave and came almost every day.
Those who didn't know how to open the entrance with a wand simply stayed at the Leaky Cauldron instead. The experienced old Tom had long since prepared enough rooms and made a tidy profit.
As a result, Diagon Alley grew more and more crowded throughout August. At a glance, every shop was packed with people—
Except the wand shop.
Wands weren't consumables. Aside from the annual batch of new students, repeat customers were almost nonexistent in the short term.
Siron was more than happy to enjoy the peace, using the time before school started to thoroughly "liberate" the contents of the storage room.
Inside were woods Ollivander had collected over decades of travel across the world—each piece perfectly suited for wandmaking, every single one top-tier quality.
Previously, Ollivander had always been reluctant to take them out. Now that Siron had received his Hogwarts acceptance letter, his grandfather finally became uncharacteristically generous.
Siron was like a Niffler that had fallen into a vault—his eyes practically glowing red.
Applewood soaked in pine resin for a full year… good stuff, taking it!
Ironwood—hard to work with but rare. Taking it.
Oh, sycamore—also excellent. Pair it with a phoenix feather and the effect would be explosive. And Hogwarts just happened to have a phoenix. Taking it.
Vine wood—average, but no reason not to take it…
As he walked deeper inside, Siron suddenly stopped, staring in shock at a reddish-brown branch resting on a shelf ahead.
Merlin's beard—at least a thirteen-hundred-year-old main branch of a dragon blood tree! Old… dear Grandfather had been hiding something like this?!!
Behind him, Ollivander's face went pale as he immediately tried to stop him.
Dragon blood wood itself wasn't rare—Romania had plenty—but one that had grown for thirteen hundred years was extraordinarily rare.
Because of its hardness and the unique sulfurous scent it naturally emitted, it was beloved by fire dragons—basically a chew toy for them.
Something that could survive being gnawed on for over a thousand years was unbelievably rare. Ollivander had only managed to find this small piece.
But youth had its advantages—fast reactions. Before Ollivander could even speak, Siron had already instinctively grabbed the dragon blood tree branch, stuffed it into his arms, and clutched it tightly.
Returning it was impossible. Don't even think about it. A grown wizard had to keep his word—breaking promises was something only Dark Wizards did.
Was Ollivander a Dark Wizard?
Of course not.
And Siron certainly wouldn't let his beloved grandfather become a dishonorable liar.
The result of all this was that the poor children who came later to buy their wands suffered instead.
They arrived happily to buy their very first wand, only to look up and see a gloomy, disheveled old man with wild hair, muttering to himself nonstop.
A few particularly timid children almost burst into tears and didn't even want to buy a wand anymore.
Ollivander had truly committed a sin this time. Hopefully, that image wouldn't leave a shadow in their young hearts.
(End of Chapter)