"Ollivander's Wand Shop, making fine wands since 382 BC."
At the last stop, John finally came to the most exciting moment.
If there is one thing in Harry Potter that best represents the wizarding world, it must be the wand in each hand.
Without a wand, even if you are Voldemort, you have to stand still.
Ollivander's Wand Shop.
This is the largest arms supply facility in the magic world.
John couldn't help but praise: "It is indeed a staff made in 382 BC. It is really extraordinary."
Immediately, like a little adult, he told Mrs. Wick to keep an eye on her husband, a middle-aged man who was overly curious.
John entered with unusually excited steps.
After walking in, the first thing I saw was not the people, but the thousands of long, narrow cardboard boxes containing wands.
The originally small store became even more cramped and cramped under the backdrop of cardboard boxes.
The thick dust everywhere made John wonder how Ollivander could live there, and why he didn't even need to clean it.
As John looked inside, Ollivander also looked at him.
"good afternoon."
Ollivander walked out of the pile of cardboard boxes with a kind smile on his face.
"Hello, I want one..."
"A wand, of course everyone wants a wand."
Ollivander took over John's words with a smile and walked out from behind the counter.
"New student at Hogwarts, what's your name?"
"John Wick."
"Very well, Mr. Wick, which arm is your dominant hand?"
"The right hand...actually my left hand can also be used."
John shoots the bow from the left and right, thanks to the pencil skills he practiced for two and a half years, in order to be able to quickly deal with enemies on the left and right.
"Then let's take the left hand."
Finally, after thinking about it, John chose the left hand.
Ollivander took out a tape measure and marked it on John. The tape measure was enchanted.
Looking at Ollivander's serious face, John felt strange in his heart.
This old man doesn't seem to sell wands, but more like a tailor.
"Wands are all unique. The wizard doesn't choose the wand, the wand chooses the wizard."
After the measurement, Ollivander smiled and left these words mysteriously.
Back behind the counter, Ollivander first took down a cardboard box from the shelf.
When the box was opened, a black wand lay inside.
Ollivander introduced: "Willow wood with unicorn hair, seven and three-quarter inches, you should give it a try."
John took the wand with excitement. This was the first wand he had ever touched.
He tried to swing it forcefully to the side, but the wooden cabinets in the store exploded, and wood slag flew all over the floor.
The sheer force kept John on the spot.
"It doesn't seem to be it. Try this one again."
Ollivander carefully took the wand and took out another mahogany wand.
John took it, and the cardboard box next to it exploded.
"You are a picky person, try this one, yew and dragon heartstrings."
As time passed, it seemed like none of them could adapt.
Under the constant replacement, John became a little numb.
The originally tidy store had been blown to pieces. Even Watson, who was stopped by his wife outside, suspected that it was selling arms instead of wands.
"Mr. Wick, with all due respect, I have never seen a student as destructive as you."
Even the best-tempered oak and unicorn hair can exert the power of bombs in John's hands, which makes Ollivander more and more excited.
The more picky a guest is, the more sense of accomplishment he can bring to Ollivander.
"Now that I remember, it's a wand as finicky as you."
Thinking of something, Ollivander slapped his head.
The old man climbed up the shelf with swift steps, so fast that John wondered how old he was, and at the same time, he was really afraid that he would miss the mark and fall off.
After rummaging through the cardboard boxes on the shelf, Ollivander found a dusty cardboard box in his hand.
Blow it out in one breath and let the dust turn into a cloud of gray on the box and fly out.
"Red oak and ptarmigan tail feathers, nine and three-quarter inches, springy and pliable."
With a smile, he reached out and took out the wand, and Ollivander handed it to John expectantly.
A pair of eyes stared at John, nervous as if watching his daughter get married.
When John took it, an idea came to his mind for no reason.
"That's it."
Blessing to the soul.
Raise your hand and wave your wand gracefully.
There was no explosion, but little fluorescent lights came out from the tip of the wand, as gentle as a breeze, and fell on the face like bubbles.
"This is it!"
Ollivander clapped his hands happily and smiled with satisfaction.
Each magic wand is a willful child, and it is the greatest happiness to allow children to find their own partners.
Ollivander smiled and said to John: "The red oak wand is passionate about fighting. It is a warrior among wands."
"Sounds like it's more suitable for me than pencils." John also smiled, and now he didn't need to bring the pencil on the lining.
I hope the red oak is more durable than the pencil, so I won't be afraid of breaking it.
The price of a wand is 7 gold galleons.
After paying the money, John went to meet his parents.
Along the way, Watson showed great interest in John's magic wand, and even used the wand to make a morning glory bloom on his wife's head.
John snatched his wand back to prevent his father from continuing to act like a monster.
"By the way, I also want to buy an owl." John slapped his forehead.
I almost forgot that there are no telephones in Hogwarts. If you don't have an owl, you have to use the Hogwarts public owl.
Thinking of the bad-tempered owl, John thought it would be better to buy one.
...
Eela Owl Shop.
There was a lot of noise and flapping in the store, and the smell of owls and bird droppings made Mrs. Wick unbearable and she went out first.
"This is it."
John selected the white spot among the many owls at a glance.
It was a snowy owl, and John named it Basil.
Basil, the snowy owl, tilted his head and stared at John with the eyes on his round face, as if he wanted to remember this master.
After returning home, Watson became more playful and took various photos with John's wand.
If it weren't for John's wizard robe not being able to fit into it, he would probably have to take a few more photos wearing it.
Mrs. Wick leaned against the cupboard helplessly and looked at him, as if looking at a child who had not grown up, with a hint of smile in her eyes.
At the same time, Harry also received his gift.
A snowy owl he named Hedwig.
This is his happiest day.
...
John received a gift.
When Mrs. Wick took out the gift, John was startled by the moving gift box. He subconsciously pulled out his wand and held it behind his back to be alert.
Opening the gift box, a puppy emerged from inside.
It has big ears, the upper part of its head is brown, and its back is black.
Migru, the full name is Migru Harrier.
After the puppy came out, it licked John's face wildly, and the attributes of a licking dog were clearly visible.
Mrs. Wick smiled at this heartwarming scene, leaned into Watson's arms and said warmly:
"Both your father and I feel that we cannot let you bring spiders or mice to school. This little baby is our first-school gift to you."
Watson also nodded and mouthed silently, obviously saying that was your mother's idea.
Watson, who has become a fan of wizards at some point, does not think mice are bad.
Come on, take a mouse to school, that would be super cool.
John felt that if his father was a wizard, he must be a Gryffindor.
This spirit of exploration of everything and the adventurous spirit that is not afraid of death are the perfect embodiment of those little lions.
"Thank you, mom. I also think it's not good to bring a mouse."
John, who also has a distaste for mice, liked the gift very much. After all, the mice reminded John of a plot in Harry Potter.
It seems that there was a greasy middle-aged man who turned into a mouse. When he returned to human form, he was disgusted.
He picked up the puppy. This puppy was only a few months old, and its tail was swaying like a propeller.
"Give your pet a name. I named the first toy car your grandma gave me."
It was a pity that Watson could not buy his son a black widow as a pet as he wished.
Father and son have always had the same taste in choosing names.
John held the puppy in his arms and faced the dog-licking attack.
"What about a name? Let me think about it. Let's call him Tom."
Well, this Tom is the one from Tom and Jerry, definitely not Voldemort’s real name.
In this way, John got his first dog.
...
