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The wand shop wasn’t very large and it felt as though they had walked into a heavily guarded library.
Aside from a single long bench, there were only a few scattered pieces of furniture in the entire shop. The rest were towering shelves, not filled with books, but with thousands of wands.
This was undoubtedly the largest armory in the British wizarding world.
“Good morning, customers.” The blond-haired boy was smiling quietly as he spoke.
He had an unusually brilliant head of golden hair, as if woven from the purest sunlight. Every strand shimmered with a dazzling glow. Bathed in the soft morning light, his blond hair looked even more radiant. It swayed gently, as if alive, with countless tiny specks of light dancing around it.
“Have we met somewhere before?” Ian felt a sense of familiarity as he looked at the boy, though he wasn’t sure if it was from wandering aimlessly around Diagon Alley earlier.
Just as Ian was pondering,
“Maybe it’s because this morning, you brought this young lady and her family to the Cat Dessert Shop for breakfast. I was there too, I had a slice of matcha chocolate cake.”
The blond boy put down the book he’d been reading, a wizarding romance novel titled The Fallen Witch Fell in Love with Me. It was unclear why a young boy would be interested in that kind of story.
“Is that so?” Ian tried hard to recall, but he had probably been too focused on the food. With the Grangers treating them, to be distracted by anything else would’ve been an insult to the delicious meal.
“I remember him. That boy was sitting in the corner at the time,” Hermione suddenly said, jumping into the conversation. Her attention had only lingered on the title of the boy’s book for a few seconds.
Hermione used to enjoy those kinds of romance novels too. But now, she was only interested in real magic books. The little witch considered this shift a sign of her maturing.
“I also remember meeting this young gentleman when I went to the restroom at the cake shop,” Mr. Granger chimed in, and his words were immediately supported by Mrs. Granger.
“A child that beautiful is hard to overlook, I remember him too.” The entire Granger family added details, leaving Ian feeling a bit self-conscious.
“That’s strange… I don’t remember him at all.” Ian scratched his head as he spoke. Still, he didn’t dwell on it. After all, although the blond boy was indeed striking, he was just another boy. It made sense that Ian, also a boy, hadn’t paid much attention to him.
“In the future, we’ll all be classmates. There’ll be plenty of time to get acquainted. For now, let’s help this young lady pick out her wand,” The blond boy said again, smiling gently.
“That’s right! The wand!” Hermione got excited once more.
“What a young, energetic voice. I believe I already have a rough idea of the type of wand that suits you.” Ollivander began rubbing his hands in anticipation as soon as he came into the shop.
“Excellent, excellent. Outstanding talent and a competitive spirit. I think those lovely little fellas are already eager to test whether you’re worthy of wielding them.”
The old trickster’s serious tone made Hermione start to feel nervous.
“You still have to pass a wand test?” She asked, instinctively turning to her parents. Seeing their confused expressions, she realized they were just as clueless about magic as she was. Flustered, she immediately looked at Ian with pleading eyes.
“What should you call me?” Ian asked slowly.
He was imitating Snape’s intimidating tone.
“Ian… little teacher?” Hermione replied in a barely audible voice, like a mosquito’s buzz.
Since meeting him that morning, Ian had repeatedly reminded her that she needed to address him with more respectful terms.
He said it was so that when she “accidentally” ran into other Hogwarts classmates, they would know she had a close relationship with Ian. That way, she wouldn’t get bullied at Hogwarts.
“It’s Professor Ian, not ‘Little Teacher Ian’!” Ian wasn’t exactly someone who enjoyed bullying children. After all, he’d accepted a favor and promised to look after this Miss Granger at Hogwarts.
“Alright then, Professor Ian… what’s going on here?” Hermione didn’t dare meet Ollivander’s eyes again. She could only grit her teeth and shamelessly ask Ian the question once more.
How to put it, this was a classic case of insecurity.
The Hermione from the original timeline was the same way. It was precisely because of her lack of confidence that she appeared overly competitive. Right now, her greatest fear was that Ollivander might judge her as unfit to learn magic.
“It’s not a big deal. This is just Ollivander showing off his craftsmanship. Don’t worry, he’ll definitely find a wand suitable for you to begin your wizarding journey.”
Ian’s comment immediately drew a rebuttal from Ollivander.
“Wands choose the wizard, Mr. Prince. That is a proven truth… not everyone is like you, with the ability to choose the wand instead of being chosen by one.”
Ollivander walked over to Hermione and began measuring her with a tape measure. It was as if he wanted to correct the “false” idea Ian had just implanted in Hermione’s mind. He emphasized it several times.
“Yes, that’s absolutely how it works. Young lady, your wand will choose you, it has been waiting for you. And my duty is to find it from its hidden place and hand it over to you.”
Ollivander’s aged voice carried the conviction of deep belief.
However, he didn’t expect his own grandson to jump in and ruin the moment.
“To put it simply, we made a ton of wands, so there are more wands than people. There’s bound to be one that fits you.” The blond-haired boy stood up and spoke with a teasing tone, instantly breaking the solemn atmosphere.
“Lirim, show some reverence for the wands,” Ollivander said disapprovingly, glancing at his grandson. His words revealed that the blond boy’s name was Lirim Ollivander.
“I’m more concerned about calming the wand-owner’s nerves. Can’t you see this young lady’s about to have a meltdown?” Lirim shrugged, clearly a bit helpless as he replied.
“How about letting me help her choose a wand?” The boy named Lirim looked eager to give it a try.
“You…” Ollivander hesitated.
He was quite worried that his grandson might not be able to carry on the craft properly in the future. So, perhaps letting the boy get some experience in sales wouldn’t be a bad idea?
In any case, as long as he crafted enough wands before he died, ones that could be sold over the next few hundred years, it was likely that someone in the Ollivander line would be born with a real talent for wand-making.
With that thought, Ollivander made a decision on the spot.
“Alright then, I’ll let you handle it.”
He handed the tape measure to Lirim and stepped aside to watch. Maybe because he still wasn’t entirely at ease, even when he reached for his cup, his eyes didn’t leave the pair for a second.
“Mr. Ollivander, you’re holding your grandson’s fish tank.” Ian swiftly switched it out for a real cup, sparing a few small fish from a tragic gulp.
“This old gentleman must be around eighty, right?” Mrs. Granger whispered to her husband as they watched, clearly implying that Ollivander’s reflexes and eyesight seemed… somewhat degraded.
“Eighty? Hahaha, do you think I’m still such a young lad?” Ollivander’s hearing, however, was quite sharp, he chuckled happily, seemingly pleased by the assumption.
“…”
The couple exchanged a look of speechless disbelief. What do you mean, still a young lad at eighty? In the Muggle world, most people would’ve retired or even been buried long ago at this age!
“Young lady, just relax. I’m the one helping you choose a wand now. I’m not going to give you any of that ‘wands choose the wizard’ talk. All you need to know is this, your wand will reveal the destiny of your entire life.”
Lirim began taking measurements for Hermione. To everyone’s surprise, he pulled out his own wand and cast a spell on the measuring tape.
Immediately, the tape measure seemed to come alive. It began by measuring the distance from shoulder to fingertip, then moved on to wrist to elbow, knee to armpit, and even her head circumference.
Such a magical scene left Hermione and the Granger couple slightly stunned. Even Ian gave the blond-haired boy a surprised glance, not many young wizard could cast charms so proficiently even before starting school.
“This is mainly to measure body proportions, not height. Even as your body grows and develops in the future, the overall structure and proportions won’t change much.”
Lirim explained this kindly as he put away the measuring tape. When Ian had purchased his wand from old Ollivander, he hadn’t received such a detailed level of service.
“So… will I be able to find a wand that suits me?” Hermione still looked visibly nervous. It was clear that the phrase “the wand chooses the wizard” was weighing heavily on her mind.
“Of course.” After saying that, Lirim turned and walked over to the wand shelves.
“She might be better suited to a dragon’s vein or a heartstring core. What remains is to determine the type of wood,” Old Ollivander couldn’t help but offer a suggestion.
His eye was indeed quite sharp.
However,
“Maybe there’s an even better option,” Lirim responded, without adopting his grandfather’s advice.
“What’s a dragon’s vein? Do dragons really exist in this world? Is a wand’s power really drawn from such magical things?” Hermione launched three questions in a row, full of doubt and curiosity.
Lirim answered her gently.
As he rummaged through the shelves, he muttered to himself, things like: “Where did I put it?” and “Was it stolen?”
In a view only visible to him, a faint beam of light shimmered from an old wooden box on one of the shelves.
“The core is the essence of a wand. It’s the key to stabilizing and amplifying magical effects. In our shop, the most commonly used core materials come from unicorns, dragons, and phoenixes.”
“Of course, there are exceptions. In cases of experimentation or innovation, other types of wands are created as well, though each of those wands is basically one of a kind.”
Lirim’s explanation received a rare nod of approval from Ollivander.
“That’s right. Take Mr. Prince’s wand, for example, elder wood with unicorn hair. An impossible miracle,” he finally seized the opportunity to show off his beloved memory.
“An impossible wand?” Hermione had just voiced her confusion, when a brand-new wand was handed right to her by Lirim.
“This one…”
Ollivander furrowed his brow.
“Is there another story incoming?” Ian perked up his ears, ready to start taking notes.
However,
“No, no, no, there’s no story. It’s just a practice piece my unworthy grandson made. I don’t even remember how many years ago. Anyway, no one’s taken it in all these years.”
Ollivander’s words left Ian somewhat disappointed.
“So… if it’s just a practice piece, does that mean there’s a discount?” This wasn’t a question from Ian, but from Mrs. Granger, who seized the opportunity to try entering bargain mode.
The family wasn’t exactly short on money, but, well, everyone knows the joy of a good deal. Besides, even for a dentist family, it’s not like they were at the point of spending gold without blinking.
“This is a completed product. It has no flaws,” Lirim quickly defended his wand. Then, he looked toward the little witch who held the wand, uncertain of what to do.
“Give it a wave.”
He gently prompted her. Hermione, understanding the cue, awkwardly gave the wand a wave. At once, a warm and powerful energy surged through her entire body. In the air, bright and vivid flowers began to blossom, spinning slowly before gradually fading away, leaving only awe in their wake.
“This is… amazing!”
Hermione felt an unprecedented sense of connection, as if this wand was destined to be her companion, capable of understanding her every thought and amplifying her every ounce of potential.
“Jejejejejeje~”
Whether it was her imagination or not, Hermione thought she heard a strange, abstract laughter in her ears. The sound faded the moment the vision ended, vanishing without a trace, as if it had never existed.
“It’s this one, Miss Granger. This wand has been waiting for you, just as you were chosen by fate. Together, you will write a chapter destined to be different.”
Lirim smiled as he gave his evaluation. It was quite similar to old Ollivander’s usual phrasing, though noticeably more restrained. One could see it as a heartfelt blessing.
“What kind of wood is this wand made from? And is the core really the dragon’s vein?” Hermione, clearly learning as she went, stared curiously at the wand that felt so in tune with her.
“Just as our old man said, you’re exceptionally gifted, with a clearly competitive nature. So, this wand is made from vine wood.”
“Vine wood wands typically only choose wizard with remarkable talent and great ambition,” Lirim patiently explained. After a brief pause, he added:
“Of course, I also noticed something my grandfather didn’t, that you are already favored by fate. Absolute loyalty will lead you to a bright and promising future.”
The blond-haired boy’s words made Hermione’s heart stir with excitement. Honestly, when it came to salesmanship, perhaps there really was something to be said for family inheritance.
“So what’s the core, then, young Mr. Ollivander?” Ian, silently impressed, still voiced his curiosity. Cores representing loyalty could be several things.
He had been studying wandmaking himself on the side.
“A raven’s tail feather, Mr. Prince,” Lirim said cheerfully, looking at Ian with a broad smile. “And not just any raven, this one came from a psychotic raven!”
He even emphasized the last words dramatically, giving it a flourish. Just as Ian was about to frown and ask how one could tell if a bird was mentally unstable,
“Seven gold Galleons, thank you.”
Old Ollivander had already swooped in front of the Granger couple.
Same tone.
Same price.
“Not a knut less, not even one. This is the Ministry of Magic’s regulated price. We barely make a profit,” he added, preemptively countering what Mrs. Granger had clearly been about to say.
“Uh…” Mrs. Granger, feeling the weight of Ollivander’s firm tone, could only sigh as she handed over seven gold Galleons, every single one of which had come from Ian’s private exchange stash.
Each gold Galleon they owned had cost significantly more in pounds than the official Gringotts exchange rate, though still less than the black market price. After all, Gringotts only allowed Muggle currency exchanges in very limited amounts each year.
It was never enough.
“Now that I have a wand too, can I start learning magic? Is magic hard to learn?”
Hermione clutched her wand tightly, bursting with excitement as she looked at Ian.
“Of course it’s not hard.”
Ian gave her a very confident answer.
“In fact, it’s really simple.” Being someone who enjoyed sharing, he quickly organized his thoughts and continued, “Every type of magic has its own color and scent.”
“For example, the Patronus Charm smells like licorice. Transfiguration has a chocolate scent. The Unforgivable Curses have… well, that’s something you don’t need to know.”
“In short, when you’re practicing magic, if you smell the right scent, that means your spellcasting wasn’t wrong.”
Ian was genuinely sharing knowledge he had personally discovered.
But his abstract explanation left Hermione visibly puzzled.
Still,
Ian firmly believed this was just because Hermione’s comprehension wasn’t quite there yet. Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, the blond-haired boy, Lirim, gave him an emphatic nod of agreement.
“Yes, exactly. That’s how it is. If you’re reading a book and the description of a spell doesn’t match the color you envision when casting it, don’t hesitate. Close the book immediately and go return it. Get your money back. That’s solid proof the book’s teachings are inaccurate.”
“It’s never your fault, it’s the book that’s wrong.” Lirim’s response was firm and full of conviction, making Ian feel like he had finally met a kindred spirit.
Until now, Ian had never successfully taught this method to any other young wizard. Honestly, he had started to doubt himself. But now, reality proved that his theory wasn’t wrong after all.
There were other young wizard who could grasp it.
Then clearly, the one with a problem wasn’t him.
“Huh?”
The more Hermione listened, the more confused she became.
“Is that really the case?”
She wasn’t sure if it was just because she hadn’t read any magic books yet that she couldn’t grasp the feeling they were talking about.
“No problem at all!”
“Of course it is.”
The two little boys answered in perfect unison.
That made Hermione even more convinced, maybe this really is just how wizard are.
“Alright, I’ll remember it.”
Of course, she wouldn’t give up on learning because of this.
However, it was at this moment that a question was born. One that would go on to trouble this future legendary witch for most of her life.
Ding-Ding-Dang~
Just as Hermione was trying to memorize everything, half-comprehending and repeating it over and over in her mind, suddenly, the wind chime at the front door jingled crisply and unexpectedly.
“Welcome to Ollivander’s Wand Shop.”
Old Ollivander practically bolted to the front, like a reflex.
They saw a small boy being gently nudged through the door first, looking slightly nervous and unsure. Behind him, an enormous figure, burly and towering, began squeezing into the shop.
Although the doorway wasn’t particularly narrow, it clearly wasn’t designed for someone of that size. The man had to use all his strength just to wedge himself inside.
“Oh, my heavens!” The Grangers were both startled.
“A g, giant!” Hermione’s face turned pale as she quickly took several steps back.
“Not a giant, half-giant,” The large man said with a hearty laugh. He wasn’t the least bit upset and instead corrected Hermione’s wording. His gaze landed on Ian inside the shop.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Ian.”
The half-giant was, of course, Hagrid. Spotting Ian, he lit up with joy and immediately gave him a massive bear hug.
Of course, it looked like he was about to suplex Ian right into the ground.
“I didn’t expect to see you here either, Professor Hagrid.” Ian’s legs dangled in the air like paddles, and only after being held for quite a while did he finally touch the ground again.
“I’m here to help a student with shopping, Dumbledore’s orders. Of course, I’ve got some personal motives too,” Hagrid replied, as straightforward and unguarded as ever. “Looks like you’re here for the same reason?”
He looked toward Hermione, who had just picked out her wand as he said this.
“This was a paid commission by Mr. Granger. They’re unfamiliar with the magical world, and their daughter, Miss Hermione Granger, will be attending Hogwarts this year.”
Ian gave Hagrid a brief introduction.
“You’re really lucky.” Hagrid turned to the Grangers. “Ian is very well-liked at school. With his help, your daughter will fit right into Hogwarts in no time.”
His words brought clear delight to the Granger couple.
So it turned out this little wizard they’d met really hadn’t been bluffing.
“That’s exactly what we were hoping for. We’d also be grateful if you could look after our Hermione from time to time,” Mr. Granger responded graciously and sincerely.
He had noticed how Ian addressed the massive man as Professor.
“No problem at all! Ian’s friends are my friends! If this young lady ever needs help, she can come find me anytime, then it will be alright! In fact, if she just tells people she’s Ian’s friend, no one at school will dare bully her!”
Hagrid laughed heartily and thumped his chest as he made this bold promise.
His words made the Grangers even more aware of the weight behind Ian’s self-proclaimed “little emperor” status.
So it was true after all, he really was a big-shot school boss.
“Is this student the one you’re guiding this year?” Ian noticed the look in the Grangers’ eyes and quickly turned toward the bespectacled boy, feigning ignorance as he asked.
The boy was even more reserved than Hermione. He wore thick glasses, had messy black hair, and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
His identity was one known throughout the entire wizarding world.
Ian guessed that Lupin hadn’t come to Diagon Alley today because he knew Harry Potter would be here, and wasn’t sure how to face the orphan of his best friend.
“Yes, that’s right! This is the Boy Who Lived, the one who defeated Voldemort, Harry Potter.” Hagrid immediately pulled Harry to the front and introduced him proudly.
His voice was filled with delight, and after introducing Harry, he took the initiative to introduce Ian to Harry as well. “This is Ian, the genius wizard who made a whole bunch of boys and girls also become the Boy-Who-Lived.”
That… sounded incredibly strange.
Harry Potter’s expression immediately turned alarmed.
“…”
Ian, for his part, was completely speechless.
Fortunately, Hagrid quickly realized that his phrasing was a little… ambiguous.
“Uh, what I meant is, he’s a little hero who defeated a Dark wizard who had infiltrated the school and saved everyone. He’s about to become the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin.”
Hagrid explained somewhat awkwardly. He only knew what most people knew, what had been spread around publicly. Only a few truly understood Voldemort’s identity.
Most people believed the enemy Ian had defeated was one of Voldemort’s most loyal followers.
Well…
That wasn’t entirely wrong either.
“Wow, you’re amazing!”
Harry Potter exclaimed, wide-eyed. He began to feel a bit inferior. Ian was only a little older than him, but in every way, he seemed far more capable.
Even his appearance was so striking… This must be the kind of Boy-Who-Lived the wizarding world truly admired, not him. He had already experienced firsthand in the taverns outside how much of his fame felt hollow.
And because of that, the real Boy-Who-Lived was starting to feel like he didn’t deserve the name.
“That is nothing special, I am only at third place at Hogwarts,” Ian replied honestly, assessing his own skill level.
Neither Hermione nor Mrs. Granger had much of a reaction to Harry Potter’s introduction. After all, the two adults and one child had only just been introduced to the magical world today. They didn’t really understand the magical history or the legend surrounding Harry Potter.
That made Harry feel a little more at ease, at least for the moment.
Of course, that peace didn’t last long.
“So it was you! I recognized you the moment you walked in!” Old Ollivander suddenly sprang forward with a reaction that immediately made Harry feel overwhelmed again.
“H-Hello, sir…”
All he could do was quickly respond with a polite greeting.
“I’ve been thinking I’d be seeing you soon, Harry Potter. You have your mother’s eyes, exactly the same. I remember when she came here to buy her wand like it was yesterday.”
“She bought a wand ten and one-quarter inches long, made of beautiful willow, a truly excellent wand. And your father’s was eleven inches, made of mahogany. Excellent for transfiguration.”
Old Ollivander clearly hadn’t had his fill of showing off his incredible memory.
After saying all that to Harry, he turned and looked toward Hagrid.
“Rubeus Hagrid! I can’t believe you’re the one who brought him here. That makes me very happy. Yours was that sixteen-inch oak wand, wasn’t it?”
“I remember that wand very clearly.”
Old Ollivander wore a reminiscent expression.
“Yes, it was a very, very fine wand,” Hagrid added, nodding in agreement, though his words prompted Ollivander to let out a heavy sigh.
“But I suppose they’ve destroyed your wand by now. Such a shame… what a dreadful Ministry of Magic.”
Ollivander showed regret over the wand’s destruction, and a trace of displeasure at the Ministry’s actions.
“Uh… yes, they totally wrecked it, beyond repair,” Hagrid said, clearly dodging Ollivander’s gaze. His face was a bit stiff and awkward.
“But I imagine you’ve still kept it, haven’t you?” Ollivander looked at Hagrid with bright, knowing eyes.
Hagrid didn’t dare meet his gaze.
“I gave it a… proper resting place,” Hagrid tried to imply that he had buried the wand, but his massive hands were still tightly gripping a battered pink umbrella.
“That’s good.”
Ollivander’s eyes paused on the umbrella for a moment but chose not to press further.
He turned back to Harry Potter.
“I’m deeply sorry that a wand I sold brought harm to you, to your family, and to so many innocent people.” The old man’s gaze lingered on the lightning scar on Harry’s forehead.
“Thirteen and a half inches. A very powerful wand, exceptionally powerful. But I gave it to the wrong master… If I had known what it would be used for…”
His face showed a trace of remorse.
Harry Potter didn’t quite know how to respond to that, but the Granger couple immediately became a little alarmed. It was as if they had just heard solid evidence that the wizarding world was extremely dangerous.
“Do wizards not go to jail for murder?” Mrs. Granger looked at Ian, horrified.
“Of course they do,” Ian replied calmly. He first glanced at Harry Potter, then at the blond-haired boy Lirim, who had returned to reading, before leading the two adults and Hermione out of the wand shop.
“I’ll explain everything in detail later,” he added in a low voice.
Discussing Voldemort or his crimes in front of a victim’s relative was clearly inappropriate, so Ian deliberately kept his voice down.
He did have some interest in the remnant soul inside Harry’s scar, but since they’d have plenty of time to interact in the future, he wasn’t in a rush to study Harry Potter’s head just yet.
“Are you all getting ready to leave?”
Old Ollivander suddenly turned around again at that moment. He had probably noticed the Grangers’ well-stocked wallet earlier, and now opened his mouth with new enthusiasm for product promotion.
“Just because you’ve bought a wand doesn’t mean it doesn’t need maintenance. A wand is a delicate and valuable item, so you might want to consider a wand maintenance kit.”
“The latest technology, the latest product, it’ll keep your wand forever young and always in top shape. Originally priced at five Galleons, but now during the back-to-school season, you only need to pay three Galleons!”
Honestly, there was a reason Ian always remembered Ollivander’s wand shop.
His salesmanship was far ahead of its time.
It had very muggle-like flair.
“Uhh…”
Mr. Granger was still hesitating when,
“What? A new maintenance set? And it’s on sale too? I want one! Get me a set!”
Hagrid jumped up from the bench at once, his voice full of excitement.
He truly had no shortage of money.
But this kind of behavior,
“…”
Left not just Ian speechless, but even the Granger couple, who still knew very little about the wizarding world, felt that something wasn’t quite right.
“He must still be keeping his wand.” Hermione muttered very softly to Ian.
Honestly, Hagrid really had no sense of subtlety or secrecy. Even a child could see through the “secret” he thought he was hiding so well.
“Alright then!” Naturally, old Ollivander was the best at playing dumb. He didn’t ask anything more, just cheerfully fetched a big pile of maintenance kits and began recommending and upselling them to Hagrid.
What is the very first thing a child wants to buy upon entering the wizarding world?
For Harry Potter, it was probably a wand.
For Tom Riddle, a powerful wand.
But for Hermione Granger, it was books on magic.
However, since it was Ian who guided her, she ended up buying a wand first. But when Ian brought her to Flourish and Blotts Bookseller, this little witch was even more excited than she had been in the wand shop.
Flourish and Blotts was the largest bookstore in Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, it wasn’t one of Ian’s properties, so he didn’t get a landlord’s discount. The enormous shop was filled with all kinds of books.
Of course, aside from the annual rush to buy textbooks and a few useless bestsellers, most of the books here hadn’t sold even once in decades.
Especially the ones way in the back of the store. According to the elderly shopkeeper, even when her mother took over the shop, those books had already been gathering dust on the back shelves.
Indeed, Ian, hoping to find some hidden treasure, flipped through a few. Most were outdated history books that hadn’t been updated in years. They had no magical power, and the events recorded were long past.
In contrast, the Daily Prophet, with its current events, was the kind of “history” most wizards preferred to read.
“This one! And this one! And that one!” Hermione was practically ready to take the whole bookstore home with her. Naturally, the Granger couple, knowing their daughter’s personality all too well, began sorting through and filtering her selections.
“I need to buy some textbooks for this year too.” Ian stood in front of the first shelf, holding the book list for Second Year. Besides the most basic Standard Spells, Grade 2, there were quite a few new textbooks added this year.
“A History of Magic: The Middle Ages Edition”
“Defense Against the Dark Arts: In-Depth Analysis”
“Fundamentals of Potions and Brewing: Advanced Volume”
“Where Are Magical Creatures? New Discoveries”
“A History of Magic: The Middle Ages Edition” (again)
…
These were all the newly added required textbooks for the year. Besides those, Ian felt like he’d been hit with a plot charm, because “Professor Lockhart” had also added several required readings that Ian considered completely pointless:
“The Magical Me of Dumbledore”
“Travels with Dumbledore”
…
A total of six or seven titles Ian had never even heard of, each written by “Professor Lockhart” over the past year. It was hard to imagine these could actually be considered educational materials.
After a round of shopping, Ian purchased everything on the list. And when he turned to check on Hermione, this knowledge-hungry little witch had already picked out more than sixty books unrelated to the standard curriculum.
The Granger couple didn’t stop her. After all, in competitive elite education, extra reading was expected. And they didn’t have any financial burden, since they could exchange Muggle money for wizarding currency through young wizards like Ian.
“‘Notable Magical Advances Over the Past Ten Centuries’ and ‘Geniuses of the 19th Century’ are both worth buying, especially Geniuses, which just received a recent update this year,”
“It’s even added my name to the list. That’s the kind of book Hogwarts should be assigning,” Ian said, recommending a few titles to Hermione.
The thing was, you couldn’t find truly advanced magical texts in a store like this. What was available were only the more basic learning materials. The deeper, more obscure knowledge was either locked away in the major wizarding houses… or hidden in Knockturn Alley.
“I also recommend you get a copy of Hogwarts: A History. Not for its accuracy, but because it feels right… Hey! Put that useless book down!” Ian had wanted to gently nudge Hermione back onto the classic path. But when he saw that Hermione showed no interest in Hogwarts: A History, and had instead picked up a book titled:
“The Weakness of Human Nature: The Secrets of Prince”
–he cracked.
He admitted it.
His mental composure snapped a little.
“But this one’s also written by Gilderoy Lockhart,” Hermione said with confusion, looking at the book Ian had just snatched out of her hands. “Isn’t it a book about you?”
She wasn’t just twisting the knife, she was stabbing it in and twisting hard.
“…”
Ian was utterly exasperated.
“It’s full of slander, persecution, and… utter nonsense!”
Ian forcefully shoved The Weakness of Human Nature: The Secrets of Prince back onto the shelf, and stuffed Hogwarts: A History into Hermione’s arms.
“This is the kind of book a proper student should be reading.” Ian emphasized this very seriously.
Hermione stood there, confused, holding the book that had been shoved into her hands.
Even as her parents finished checking out, she still couldn’t figure out why Ian had reacted so strongly. But as the saying goes: “The more you’re denied something, the more you desire it.”
That brief moment sparked an intense curiosity in Hermione toward The Secrets of Prince.
The street outside was full of people, packed with young wizards shopping in Diagon Alley.
Ian spotted a few familiar faces.
All of whom quickly turned away to avoid him.
There was no need to guess, they were obviously from a certain House. Amid all the shouting vendors selling toys and magical figurines, Ian led Hermione and the Grangers toward a shop for purchasing potion ingredients.
Hermione’s eyes lit up once again, and she began joyfully browsing and selecting items.
Her parents stayed close at her side, worried that she might run into danger, even in this shop.
They had a point.
After all, she’d almost gotten her head bitten off by a book in the bookstore, the Grangers still couldn’t comprehend how a book with sharper teeth than a crocodile could be legally sold in a bookstore.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Ian greeted the counter.
“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” The freckled girl at the potions shop’s front desk gave Ian a warm and genuine smile.
She always offered just a little better service to handsome young wizards.
“I’d like to sell some potions here,” Ian brought up his idea.
“Huh?” The freckled girl clearly hadn’t expected this. She paused briefly, then quickly regained her composure and responded with polite regret:
“I’m sorry, we have designated suppliers. We don’t usually accept items from outside vendors.”
That answer didn’t surprise Ian.
He’d expected it.
But,
“My name is Ian Prince, that Prince, of the Prince House. My uncle is Severus Snape, and all my potions are refined under his professional supervision.”
Ian was already fully aware of how much weight the Prince name carried in the potions community.
Sure enough, upon hearing that, the freckled girl immediately showed a shocked expression.
“You… you’re that Hogwarts Guardian?” She was clearly someone who kept up with recent wizarding world news. And with all the public promotion from Old Dumbledore and Grindelwald, it was hard to miss.
“Shouldn’t we be focusing on my potions?” Ian blinked innocently.
The freckled girl immediately looked slightly embarrassed.
“Sorry.”
She glanced toward the back room.
“I need to inform the boss.”
With that, she quickly jogged into the back. A few minutes later, she returned with a mature woman who had both capital and curves, clearly someone with authority.
“Hello, Mr. Prince. I’m Luanne Lilyvee. I heard you’re interested in selling us some potions?” The woman asked cautiously.
“That’s right.” Ian got straight to the point and took out a batch of potions he had stockpiled. None were illegal, just products from his practice batches used to train proficiency, though not particularly useful in a practical sense.
“What excellent quality… These are definitely much higher-grade than what our regular supplier provides. Are these all refined by you personally?”
After examining the potions, Lilyvee couldn’t help but praise them. When Ian nodded, she let out a heartfelt sigh, her voice full of emotion.
“No wonder… A true descendant of the Prince House. I’d wager that even in your family’s long history, you’re a rare genius. Perhaps one day, you may even surpass your Master uncle.”
Luanne Lilyvee did not hold back on the compliments.
Ian thoroughly enjoyed the praise.
“So, can I sell them to you?”
Of course, this was the part Ian cared about most.
Upon hearing the question again, Lilyvee chuckled softly.
“Normally, aside from works from well-known masters or certified experts, we rarely purchase potions from individual suppliers, no matter how good they are.”
“But… who could stick to principle when it’s you handing them over?”
Her words clearly meant the deal was going through.
“Principle is the Prince House’s golden reputation?” Ian mused aloud.
However, Lilyvee shook her head at his guess.
“No, the principle… is that deed in your hand.” She gave an answer that left Ian visibly confused. He quickly pulled out the big ring of keys at his waist to check something.
“So you were one of mine too.”
Ah. The burden of being a landlord.
Apparently, he had missed a few properties the last time he came to Diagon Alley to “inspect” his estate.
“Don’t worry, we’ll definitely give you the highest possible purchase price. I just need to ask: how much of this potion stock do you intend to sell?” It was clear from her confidence that Lilyvee had the backing of a major and sacred House.
“This much.” Ian held up five fingers.
“Five pints?” Lilyvee guessed.
Ian shook his head.
“Fifty pints?” She was visibly startled.
“Fifty kilograms, ma’am.” Ian then pulled out a few massive barrels, so large that Lilyvee and the freckled girl looked like their eyeballs were about to pop out from shock.
…
By the time Hermione had finished purchasing all her supplies, Ian had also completed a massive business transaction.
He cleared out a large chunk of unnecessary inventory, and walked away with a big chest stuffed with gold coins.
“I should probably go to Gringotts and open an account,” Ian muttered, estimating the gold Galleons he was carrying. Even with weight-reducing charms, it was still a considerable burden.
“Then let’s go see the wizarding bank too. We can also exchange this year’s allowance while we’re at it,” Said Mrs. Granger, clearly someone who knew how to manage a household well.
And that was fair, only a fool wouldn’t take advantage of available benefits.
The Ministry of Magic’s Muggle-born New Student Exchange Policy actually had a pretty generous exchange rate. On the way to Gringotts, Ian explained the situation about Voldemort and the Potter family to Hermione and Mrs. Granger.
“He defeated a Dark Lord at such a young age?!” Hermione was stunned.
Thinking back to her earlier encounter with that boy, she could hardly believe someone so powerful had appeared before her, that he had actually defeated an evil demon overlord while still a baby.
“That poor child,” Said Mrs. Granger sympathetically.
Unlike Hermione, she didn’t focus on the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived, but was instead saddened by the tragedy that had befallen the Potter family.
“The wizarding world’s little mustache-man… Good thing the dark times are over!”
She even had a lingering sense of fear.
If her daughter had been born in that era, she would never have let Hermione study magic.
“To me, that Dark Lord seemed more like the terrifying head of a cult than a proper leader,” Said Mr. Granger.
His opinion aligned with Ian’s, and with a few other clear-headed people. Though he was just a Muggle, he recognized that many dynamics in the wizarding world mirrored those in the Muggle world.
As they talked about Voldemort…
Gringotts came into view.
It was located in the very center of Diagon Alley’s commercial district, a slightly aged but massive building that clearly outclassed the small shops around it.
After all, it was a bank, and in any world, banks never lacked grandeur.
Two goblins stood alert by the shining bronze front doors. Their unusual appearance made Hermione and her parents feel both curious and uneasy.
“Is this building one of your properties too?” Hermione must have overheard the conversation Ian had with the potion shop owner earlier.
“I wish it was mine. But unfortunately, it belongs to the goblins,” Ian said with a regretful sigh. He truly didn’t understand why wizards would entrust their banking system to a race they had defeated in war.
“More guests arriving,” Grumbled the goblins by the door, bowing mechanically,
Without even lifting their heads.
They were clearly not enthusiastic.
Ian, Hermione, and the Grangers stepped inside, passing through a second silver door, where a prominent warning inscription immediately caught their eyes:
“Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed.
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.”
The inscription was written in Old English. But since everyone present was a straight-A student, reading it was no problem.
Inside, even more goblins came into view. One after another, these short creatures worked diligently behind long rows of counters, weighing coins with scales, inspecting gems with monocles. Each goblin was laser-focused, as if afraid a single misstep might cause a massive loss.
That’s just the kind of race they were.
The glow of gold and jewels turned the entire hall into a glittering sea of light.
“Now this is a proper-looking place,” Mr. Granger finally found something in the wizarding world that he could appreciate. But just as he was about to continue his commentary, a goblin wearing an earring approached them.
“Here to make a deposit? I can smell the gold Galleons on you.”
Maybe he’d transplanted a dog’s nose onto himself.
“They’re here to exchange the Hogwarts new student allowance, and I’m here to open a vault. Yes, I have a lot of gold.” Ian gave his coin chest a mighty shake as he spoke.
The earring goblin’s face lit up instantly.
“Excellent! Right this way! Oh, by the way, I’m ‘Hoopring.’ You’re welcome to deposit with me anytime!”
He led Ian, Hermione, and Mrs. Granger to one of the counters.
“Open a vault for this gentleman! He’s depositing money!” Hoopring shouted to another goblin at the counter, who sported a ridiculous “chicken-comb” hairstyle. Meanwhile, Hermione and her parents still felt a bit uneasy around these oddly shaped creatures.
“No problem!” Hearing there was a deposit, the chicken-combed goblin perked right up.
“Name, please?” He pulled out a little ledger, ready to record.
“Ian Prince.” The young wizard answered a bit cautiously.
He doubted how secure goblin anti-theft measures really were. This kind of name-registration system, wasn’t it prone to identity fraud? Or maybe the vault key itself served as the primary security measure?
“Ian… Prince. Got it.” The goblin recorded the name, then began sketching Ian’s face for the record. Holding a quill, he rapidly drew in the ledger, occasionally glancing up to observe Ian’s features.
But as time passed, his hand started slowing down.
“You…”
The goblin seemed troubled. He stared at Ian for a long moment, then put on a pair of reading glasses and climbed over the desk to get a closer look at his face.
Then suddenly,
“Hiiissss~”
The goblin gasped.
He clutched his face, his expression filled with absolute terror.
“It’s him! IT’S HIM! SUPREME ARCHMAGE MEDIVH!!”
The shriek of fear rang through the young wizard’s ears.
(End of Chapter)
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