At midnight, Merlin opened the door of the small shop in front of him, carrying several bags of gifts, and stepped inside.

Both at Mr. Arthur and with Hermione, Merlin had heard of the Wandmaster Ollivander several times, and they praised the wandmaker as the best wandmaker in the world.

But to be honest, the shabby, old, and strange smell of the small shop in front of me is always a little inconsistent with the identity of the famous master in the wizarding world.

The space in this shop was small, smaller than any magic shop Merlin had been to before.

The interior of it is decorated with nothing but a bench and an antique counter.

But to Merlin's amazement, on the huge stand in front of him, thousands of long, narrow boxes for wands had reached almost to the ceiling.

It's no exaggeration to say that there are at least more than 3,000 wands here. Merlin didn't even dare to open his vision, he didn't even need to look at it, he could easily feel the magic rippling in this hall.

It was the aura of countless faint magic powers fused together, like...

The countless wands in front of me were singing together.

It's a simple and spectacular miracle.

"Oh, there aren't too many guests at this point in time."

A slightly tired, slightly devoid voice appeared in the shadows next to Merlin.

As Merlin watched, an old man in wizard's robes slowly stepped out of the shadows, holding a brush in his hand, presumably dusting the wand-containing stands.

This wizard looked very old, his face was full of wrinkles, and there were silver strands of hair on the top of his head, although he was not well groomed, but with the temperament of this old wizard, it added a touch of mystery to him.

And the most memorable thing is that this old wizard has a special pair of silver-white eyes.

"Master Ollivander."

Merlin leaned slightly over the master staff maker in front of him, and he introduced himself:

"My name is Merlin. I heard your name from a friend, and I came all the way from North America to get a wand that would fit me. ”

"No, no, no!"

Ollivander was not very happy with Merlin's compliment, on the contrary, he put down the brush in his hand and said in a serious tone:

"It's not you who picks the wand, young man, it's the wand that picks you."

"Always remember that it is not simply your weapon, it is an extension of your magic, an extension of your will and soul, it is not only your identity, it is also an old friend that you will be with for life."

"Well, I remember."

Merlin nodded, he had no intention of arguing with the old wizard in front of him.

Merlin didn't know much about magic.

But in the biography he was reading, Hogwarts, A History of the School, which taught magic knowledge, detailed the characteristics of the wands made by Ollivanders.

It is said that the old wizard has been making wands for generations, and the history of his family can be traced back to Roman times, and the wizards of his family have made wands better than any other wand.

The Ollivanders family is first-class in the selection and matching of the core and wood of the wand, and they have many secrets in their family, which can perfectly integrate the core and wood of the wand, and it is said that they also inherit a kind of perceptual magic that allows the wand to freely choose the ideal owner.

But Merlin didn't come here to covet the secrets of the old wizarding family.

His purpose is simple, just like other young wizards who come here, it is to choose a wand that suits him.

"Let's get started."

The old wizard didn't look like a talkative person.

In other words, he enjoys his work more than small talk.

"Every wizard should have a wand that matches their magic, which makes the magic you unleash more powerful and easier to manipulate. And when you hold the wand, the wand itself resonates with the wizard's magic, which can make the magic in your body flow more smoothly. ”

Ollivander turned, stepped on the wooden ladder, took the box of three wands from the stand, placed it on the counter, and made a "please" gesture to Merlin.

"Give it a try, let me see the nature of your magic."

Merlin looked at the three wands in front of him, and he shook his head, not trying it like the other wizards.

He is not a naturally awakened wizard, which means that he cannot use the wands of ordinary wizards.

He looked at the puzzled Master Ollivander in front of him, he hesitated for a moment, and said softly:

"I shouldn't hide it, my magic comes from... Demon. I'm not a natural awakening of magic, Master, do you have any advice for me in this case? ”

Merlin looked at the staff master in front of him with a hint of apprehension, he was ready to be blasted out in the next moment.

After all, he knew that traditional wizards hated all things about demons and demons.

But to his surprise, Master Ollivanders did not show a look of disgust, on the contrary, his silver-white eyes blinked, and he reached out to retrieve the three wand boxes in front of him.

He said in a calm tone:

"Oh! It's a rare occurrence, well, my ancestors had occasionally encountered such wizards in the Middle Ages, but I haven't met many in my life, and frankly, it's very curious. ”

Behind him, Merlin watched as the old wizard slowly put the wand box back on the shelf. He asked softly:

"Don't you hate demonwalkers like me?"

"Hate?"

Ollivander stood on the ladder, he looked back at Merlin, and he said:

"Why hate it?"

"Will you hurt me? Will you try to sabotage my shop and my work? ”

"No, I don't have the slightest malice."

Merlin replied, and Ollivander shrugged, and asked with a smile:

"Then why should I hate you?"

"I'm a very pure craftsman, Merlin."

"I wouldn't even be wasting my time at Hogwarts if it weren't for the fact that the wand-making process had to require me to learn magic. All I care about is wands, and only wands, and nothing else is on my mind. The only thing I care about..."

The master staff maker took out a dusty box from the three-tiered stand, and while blowing the dust from the box, he climbed down the ladder and said to Merlin:

"The only thing I care about is whether you can find the right wand with me, and whether you can be chosen by these cute little ones."

The old wizard walked forward slowly, grumbling like an ordinary old man as he went:

"Wizards have a bit of a stereotypical and anachronistic bad thing, they hate this, they don't like that, they like to make their own decrees, but they don't care if they affect other people. Because of their preferences, I even had to give up making something interesting that piqued my interest. ”

Ollivander put the worn-out wooden box in his hand on the counter, and he said to Merlin:

"For a craftsman, this is simply unbearable invisible confinement. But the good news is that I used to be young and enthusiastic, and in the spur of the moment, I also made a lot of interesting attempts... As deviant as this piece may seem, it's also my own work, so give it a try, kid. ”

The Master Wand-Master reached out to open the wooden box, and a wand appeared in front of Merlin's eyes.

In the black velvet lining, a fifteen and a half-inch wand lay quietly in the box.

Merlin had seen Hermione's wand, Arthur's wand, and Auror's wand, all of which were black and similar in appearance, all of them simply embellished with knots.

All the staff masters don't seem to like bells and whistles, and the wands they make are all of that simple style.

But the wand in front of Merlin's eyes was different.

It is red, to be precise, dark red. It's like applying an even layer of fine red paint to the wood.

It has 3 segments in shape and looks like an irregular conical shape when viewed from the side.

This wand, made by the young master Ollivanders, has a slightly eerie decoration on the grip. Three sculptures resembling demonic claws were carved into the wand, as if the remaining two-thirds of the staff had been extended from the ghost's claws.

This decoration makes this wand look a little weird, with a hint of gloom and gloom.

No wonder, the old wizard would say that it was a bit "deviant". Old-fashioned and serious orthodox wizards wouldn't like it.

"It's made of yew wood."

Ollivander introduced Merlin:

"Because of the poisonous sap of this tree, yew is often associated with magic and death on the Mediterranean side. When the outer bark of the yew tree withers and dies, new trees continue to grow from the center of the tree, so in the Roman period, it was regarded as the "tree of immortality", and in some esoteric systems, it also symbolized the reincarnation of the soul. ”

Ollivander told Merlin the story of the purple shirt, and he looked at the wand in front of Merlin, and with a hint of nostalgia, he said:

"In England, the ancient Celtic priests also used yew as a symbol of immortality and immortality... The magical nature of such trees is biased towards darkness, destruction, and death. Only wizards with a talent for dark arts can be approved by the Purple Shirt Wood Wand, but that refers to other wands, not this one. ”

"This one is unique."

The Master Wand's fingers caressed the red devil's claw wand as if caressing a lover's skin, and he whispered:

"When I made it, I didn't use the same materials that wand cores often use..."

"On a whim, I took a demon's horn and ground it into powder, which was decorated with a specially treated tail feather. This kind of casual behavior has always been disgusted by the master staffmakers, because it can easily lead to bad things. ”

"But but... And it worked. ”

"I didn't even expect this wand to be made so smoothly."

Ollivander withdrew his finger, he looked at Merlin, a wave flashed in his eyes, and he said:

"I thought it would never see the light of day again, because in this day and age, under the hunt and supervision of stereotypical wizards, there are very few people who can get power from demons and will not be consumed by power. The blockade of the dimension is very strong, and the demons who can cross the line in this era are either very weak, too weak to be worth mentioning, or very strong, strong enough to make the entire wizarding world tremble. ”

The old wizard took a step back, waved his hand and added several defensive spells to himself, and then made a "please" gesture to Merlin, saying:

"Try it, oh, yes, I have to warn you..."

"It's not so good-tempered, and it's comparatively... Greedy. ”

Merlin looked at the red wand in front of him, and he took a deep breath to calm his mind. After a few seconds, he reached out his finger and grasped the red wand in front of him.

It's a bit heavy to start with, at least heavier than Merlin thought.

But the balance is excellent, and the feel is perfect, like an extension of your arm.

"Try it with magic."

Ollivander saw Merlin pick up his wand, but was not instinctively countered by the wand, and a hint of surprise flashed in his silver-white eyes. As a master wandmaker, there's nothing more exciting than seeing your wand find its owner.

Therefore, he urged in a slightly hurried tone.

Merlin nodded, discreetly infusing the dark magic of his body into his wand, an action that seemed to awaken a sleeping wand.

The next moment, a faint hum echoed from the wand.

It was like a hungry child, instinctively drawing on the magic of darkness.

It craves this magic from the same place as it.

In just a few seconds, Merlin's magic power changed from an active injection at the beginning to an instinctive ingestion by a wand, which became faster and faster, and after a few seconds, the cold wind began to echo in the small shop.

Both Ollivander and Merlin heard the sound of a beast swallowing water.

"You want more?"

Merlin felt the trembling of his wand in his hand, and he said in a gentle voice:

"Good! Here you go... It's all for you! ”

Merlin completely let go of the magic in his body, and let the magic power flood into his hand like a wand.

The more magic a wand draws, the slower the dark magic erodes his soul and body.

Under the cover of the increasingly thick dark mist, Merlin's suppressed spirit became more and more relaxed, until the last moment, the existing dark magic in his body was almost two-thirds drained by the wand.

It was only then that the Red Wand's thirst for magic was satisfied.

With the wave of Merlin's wrist, the dark mist in the small shop parted obediently outward at this moment, and a ball of light like a red flame wrapped around the tip of Merlin's wand in his hand, like a lantern that had been turned on.

And the well-fed red devil's claw wand meekly rested in Merlin's palm, as if he had actually gone home, and then lazily fell asleep.

"That's good."

Master Ollivander looked at Merlin's docile wand in his hand, and a smile of pure childlike satisfaction flashed across his wrinkled face.

He said to Merlin:

"It's yours, sir, make good use of it."

Merlin looked at the wand in his hand that seemed to be an extension of his soul, and he whispered:

"Can I give it a name?"

"Oh? Give the wand a name? ”

Master Ollivander blinked, and he said to Merlin:

"It's rare for wizards to treat their wands like this, but if you really want to, be it, it's yours anyway."

"Okay."

Merlin placed all the gold galleons left in his pocket on Master Ollivander's counter, and the Master Wand-Maker did not refuse a payment that far exceeded the cost of making a wand.

He looked at Merlin, and Merlin looked at the red wand in his hand, the surface of which shone with a dull red halo in the dim light.

This reminded Merlin of his lost birthday present, and he whispered to his wand:

"Hello..."

"Lola."