Azkaban students at Hogwarts

It is not illegal for a middle-aged man to use "family and career strikes" on his children, but it is very unethical.

Fortunately, both parties finally reached a settlement.

So this one-sided abuse of singles by the winner of life ended quickly.

Having made a hasty plan to visit his eldest nephew in a few days, Roman went to the principal's office and stepped into the fireplace that was temporarily connected to the floo network.

As a key node of the Floo Network, the Leaky Cauldron assumes an extremely important transit task.

Especially when a wood shop like Ollivander's needs to be kept away from sources of fire.

Roman climbed out of the huge fireplace with a roaring fire and found himself under a Tudor vault.

This architectural style from nearly 400 years ago fully demonstrates that since the implementation of the Wizarding Secrecy Act in 1689, the timelines of wizards and Muggles have begun to diverge.

And I am afraid that the aristocratic groups on both sides had already broken up before the end of the Tudor Dynasty in 1603.

Among them, the representative love-hate relationship between Malfoy I and Elizabeth I has completely disappeared into the smoke of history.

Tom, the bar owner, came over and thoughtfully handed over a brush.

"Child, where are your parents?"

He recognized Roman as a child who was not yet in school, and subconsciously thought that his parents brought him to play.

"Oh, they're...in a very quiet place."

Roman didn't have the habit of announcing his family status.

"I'll just go to Diagon Alley and wait for them."

He walked away under the slightly surprised look in Tom's eyes.

When Tom remembered that he needed a wand to open the door and hurried over, there was no one in front of the famous trash can.

But what Roman didn't expect was that Ollivander's Wand Shop was also empty, and the door was tightly closed.

He looked at the small, shabby storefront and the wand on the faded purple cushion in the window, and began to knock on the door softly.

No one answered.

Roman looked up at the gold-lettered sign on the door to make sure he was looking in the right place.

"Ollivander, has been making exquisite wands since 380 BC."

"Is anyone there?"

His voice was louder.

"Son, you can go to the back door to find him."

A tall wizard passed by behind him, pushing an empty cart. After saying this, he grinned and entered Flourish and Blotts Bookstore.

The front hall of Ollivander's Wand Shop is small, but there is a workshop-like backyard in the back.

Roman stood in front of the half-open courtyard door and saw a workbench about two meters long placed in the courtyard.

In front of the workbench, Ollivander, covered in sawdust, was polishing the handles of several wands.

He blurted out without thinking:

"Master, where is your staff?"

Ollivander raised his head, his silver eyes full of surprise.

"Please come in. I thought there would be no guests here today. Few young wizards are so... calm."

Roman smiled awkwardly, "I encountered a little accident."

Ollivander carefully turned the wand upside down and used a carving knife to trim the edges he had discovered during the polishing process.

"Sometimes it happens that little wizards use a wand they have at home, but when they come to school they find it doesn't fit."

He dealt with it with his mouth, but his silver eyes were always staring at the wand.

On the workbench made of walnut wood, several glass bottles are neatly placed, along with clean wiping cloths and an opened bottle of wand maintenance oil.

"Would you like to come and experience it?"

After simply removing a few bumps that were invisible to the naked eye, Ollivander roughly polished the handle a few times, then waved the wand in front of Roman's eyes.

"Freshly broken vine wood and fresh unicorn feathers are a perfect match."

So casual?

Don't ask the parents' names?

No reappearance of yesterday?

No matter how long it is, just let me try the wand that has just been polished and may still have burrs?

But Ollivander looked happy, and it was obvious that the wands had gone smoothly.

"Come on, but please be careful and don't swing too hard. It's just been made and there's probably some excitement."

Ollivander patted the sawdust on his body, placed the wand in his hand on a soft cushion, and wrapped the remaining unfinished wands in soft cotton cloth.

"I guess there's no need to open the front door." He went straight into the shop in front through a small door. "Wait a minute, I'll get a tape measure."

When he reappeared, he was already holding several wand boxes, with a tape measure eager to try following behind him.

"I actually want every little wizard to try a beech wand. It takes time to choose anyway, so why not try this interesting wand?"

Having only one guest made Ollivander very relaxed.

Instead of rushing to accommodate the next hurried little wizard, he could slowly introduce his wand.

"Beech wood and snake nerve are the simplest combination for making a wand." Roman vaguely remembered this knowledge.

Ollivander placed the wand box on the table and clapped his hands happily, "You know this too."

"I thought you only used certain kinds of wand cores?"

Roman obediently took the beech wand from Ollivander's hand.

He waved and nothing happened.

But Ollivander was even happier. He rarely saw young wizards who were willing to talk about wand materials, and it seemed that the other person knew something about him.

"Yes, except for wands made out of hobby such as beech wood and snake nerve, I only use the best materials."

He watched the tape measure work over Roman's body, occasionally noting the length of his arms and the circumference of his head.

“Early in my career, when I watched my fellow wandmaker father struggle with the difficulties posed by substandard core materials, such as Kelpie hair, I became determined to find the best wandmaker. Good wand cores, and once the family business is handed over to me, I will only use good materials."

The tape measure returned to him, Ollivander nodded, and opened a wand box at hand.

"I've done just that. After much experimentation and research, I've concluded that there are only three substances that make for a high-quality wand that I would be happy to give the Ollivanders name to: Unicorn Hair , Dragon Nerves and Phoenix Tail Feathers.”

He handed over a long wand, maybe fifteen inches.

"Aspen wood, the nerve of the dragon."

But as soon as Roman took it, the wand was taken away by Ollivander.

"To be honest, every little wizard who comes at a special moment may have some special needs, so I have to choose a few special ones for you..."

Ollivander turned back to the front hall with great interest, which made Roman suspect that he just wanted to take this opportunity to do some experiments.

He looked at the table of wands in front of him and opened the blind box without hesitation. Instead, he looked at the wand that Ollivander first asked him to try.

This was not because he was panicking, but because the wand was trembling violently.

"Here comes the wand!"

"This trial of the wand may be a...beautiful thing."

Ollivander's words were stuck in his throat because the newly polished wand on the table was emitting a faint light.

Roman gently picked up the wand under Ollivander's encouraging eyes.

The magic power swirled freely in the wand.

More than any wand I'd ever used, this one was exactly his shape.

He gently tapped the tip of his staff in the air, and a soft light flashed across it.

"A grapevine wand can produce magical effects when in the same room as the right owner."

Ollivander spoke softly, with surprise, admiration and a little regret in his tone at the same time.

Roman seemed to see a fan chart standing in front of him.

"Grapevine wood, unicorn hair core; ten and three-quarter inches; a very flexible wand."

He gently put the wand box aside in his arms, took the wand back from Roman's hand, and began to put the oily stuff in the bottle on the wand, without noticing Roman's strange expression.

Roman couldn't remember the characteristics of each wand wood, but he had some knowledge of the core over the years.

"The most stable spells are the least likely to fluctuate or block, and the least likely to succumb to dark magic. They may become anxious or even 'wilt' after rough handling."

He carefully avoided the word "dark magic" and emphasized the word "blight."

"Careful and kind little wizard, I think you will enter the work of St. Mungo's and become a great healer."

Ollivander obviously had a special liking for little wizards who knew about wands.

"Don't underestimate me. The last time I saw this kind of scene was not long after I took over the shop. And the owner of that wand, Mr. Smethick, is now a famous therapist at St. Mungo's."

There was a hint of pride in his words, the complacency of an experienced man after his knowledge has been confirmed.

But Roman begs to differ.

"Cough cough."

He choked on his own saliva and coughed violently.

Strictly speaking, I do work for St. Mungo's. Over the years, they have often charged themselves for treatment.

"Is there a wand that would suit me better?"

Roman asked the question hesitantly.

He could feel the fluidity of the wand's swing.

But that's magic, not magic.

Such a wand is obviously too "kind".

The vines chosen by the Druids simply cannot harmonize with the unicorn hair, and adding the two together will only lead to one extreme.

One day, I subconsciously used black magic, and it wronged me to death, and even caused me to explode...

I would rather have a wand that can release magic stably.

However, this was probably the first time that a young wizard dared to question Ollivander's decision.

He shook his head without hesitation, seeming to have made up his mind.

You must find a dark wizard today and sell him the unicorn wand.

"Child, it is the wand that chooses the wizard."

Ollivander's silver eyes widened.

It seemed that the next moment, those eyes would be squeezed out by high pressure, turning into two eyeballs and hitting Roman through each other.

Under the threat of nuclear weapons, Roman bowed his head decisively, saying that it was perfectly fine to listen to the experts for things like wands.

Ollivander withdrew his intimidation and inserted the wand into the smallest bottle, letting the tip of the wand be soaked with a brown liquid.

"How rude, kid, I don't know your name yet."

After Roman gave in, Ollivander became the soft-voiced wandmaker again.

A few years later, if Roman has a child here, he can happily "relive yesterday".

"Roman Heller."

"Heller...are you a child of the Heller family?"

Ollivander's hand stopped.

"I don't know, I'm not sure if we're talking about the same Heller."

Roman shrugged. It was not a good habit to pretend to be a relative.

But Ollivander seemed not to hear his response and muttered to himself:

"That makes sense. Who better to have such a wand than you, Heller child?"

Ollivander pulled the wand out of the bottle and looked at it again.

Then he quickly wiped away the liquid and applied protective oil to the wand handle.

Then, under Roman's shocked eyes, he took out a large bag of wand care tools.

Including but not limited to special wipes, wand oil, fine line repair balm, crevice brush, night wand protective cover, duel quick-draw wand cover...wait, what is that?There are also two pairs of white fine cotton gloves.

Roman really wanted to stop him and say - Uncle, I am a medicine seller, not a dish maker.

"I probably don't have that many galleons."

When faced with sales, Roman's first secret is to tell the other person that he has no money.

This most effective method is often abandoned by young people due to face issues.

But young people who have mastered this skill will be transformed into veterans.

"Don't be stupid kid, how can I take your money? Abner has helped me so much."

He suddenly paused, an apologetic expression appeared on his face, and his silver eyes were full of uneasiness, "I'm sorry, old people just like to remember."

Case solved, case solved.

He had seen this episode, and Dumbledore had this expression.

But Dumbledore had a beard that covered his face.

Roman shook his head, indicating that he was not that fragile.

"But, is it really necessary to use gloves when caring for a wand?"

He recalled how he usually used his wand.

Is the wand such a troublesome thing?

Aren’t they similar to chopsticks?

"Believe me, you won't suffer for treating it well." Ollivander replied seriously, "Besides, this is the best XJ cotton that my friend mailed to me when he went looking for XZ Snowman. If any idiot If you reject it, you really have to control the water in your head."

Facts have proven that once given the chance to relive yesterday, Mr. Ollivander can display terrifying combat effectiveness.

By the time the dizzy Roman came out of Ollivander's store, the moon was already high in the sky.

He had some doubts about whether the figure Ollivander described was his father or a fictional character created by some bad author.

After all, being smart and being a good guy are obviously conflicting attributes.

Is there really anyone who makes their lives so tiring?

He chewed on the toothbrush and ignored the care gift bag he held in his left hand. He just looked at the wand held in his right hand.

The magic flowed smoothly, warm and comfortable, completely opposite to the dragon bone wand.

Hey!

Roman sighed and wanted to hit his head with his wand, but he immediately realized something was wrong with him.

Waving a magic wand at will is very dangerous, and there is a precedent in the wizarding world for burning one's butt with a magic wand.

He thought for a moment, and finally raised the wand in front of his eyes, a bit like a duel.

Then—clicked the wand with his head.

"Don't be nervous, I'll try not to use black magic on you."