Fantastic Beasts Cooking Masters At Hogwarts

Ollivander's Wand Shop, one of the most important places in the Harry Potter world, is the starting point for all wizards.

Every Hogwarts student needs to choose a wand that suits him/her before he/she can enroll. Logically, this should be a monopoly business, but the storefront of Ollivander's Wand Shop is not outstanding.

The storefront of the wand shop is very shabby, and the red flag peeling sign hangs at the door, as if it has been hanging here for centuries.

If this store is not located on the most bustling street in Diagon Alley, Allen would have doubted whether he had come to the wrong place.

Professor McGonagall stepped back from the somewhat old door, and the welcome bell on the door jingled, reminding the owner that there were guests.

With a long sliding sound, a ladder moved out from the depths of the store, and a white-haired but energetic old man stood on the ladder and walked carefully from the mountain of gift boxes as high as two people.

"Mr. Ollivander, long time no see." Professor McGonagall greeted him.

"Oh, welcome, Ms. McGonagall," Mr. Ollivander walked to the counter. "Are you bringing new students to choose wands? Is this a freshman? Where are his parents?"

"This is Alan Cecil, an orphan." Professor McGonagall said as he leaned into Mr. Ollivander's ear and whispered the rest of the sentence.

Although the voice didn't sound much quieter to Alan than if it was spoken directly, his hearing was much more sensitive than that of ordinary people.

But Professor McGonagall's thoughtfulness was still very touching.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Mr. Ollivander was full of apologies, but he didn't show it at Professor McGonagall's signal. He just said to Alan in a more friendly tone, "Then Mr. Cecil, please come over and let's get down to business."

"Child, Mr. Ollivander will help you find a wand that suits you." Professor McGonagall explained it specially because he was worried that Alan was shy.

Alan walked up to Mr. Ollivander and accepted a series of incredible measurements. Anyway, Alan didn't see what these measurements had to do with choosing a wand.

The measured data included arm length, the distance between eyebrows, and the distance between nostrils. They all seemed to be useful, but once you think about it, you will have the idea of ​​"what the hell is this for?"

Can a wand be related to the distance between nostrils or eyebrows? What's the use of measuring arm length now? Can the height of an eleven-year-old be of reference value? Maybe this is some kind of metaphysics?

Alan turned around a few times under Ollivander's manipulation, and then Mr. Ollivander raised his head with a serious face.

"Well... it's really hard to choose," Mr. Ollivander looked particularly entangled and distressed.

Professor McGonagall did not ask, but gave him enough time to think.

Soon, Mr. Ollivander made a move. He hooked his finger, and a wand box flew out from the shelf next to him and landed in front of Alan.

Ollivander opened the wand box and took out a brown wand.

"Perhaps pine wood is more suitable for you. Wands made of pine wood are more inclined to those mysterious and independent wizards. They like creativity." Mr. Ollivander said as he handed it to Alan, "Come on, try to wave it."

Alan took the wand and felt something was wrong. He looked at Mr. Ollivander, "Is there anything else in this wand besides pine wood?"

What about the core? What is the difference between a wand without a core and a souvenir sold in a movie studio?

"Core? I don't think that's important to you, but if you want to know, I will certainly introduce it," Mr. Ollivander looked at Alan, his eyes seemed to be looking at a rare treasure, "This wand is eleven inches, and the core is thunderbird feathers, which is a very domineering material."

"Domineering?" Alan looked at the wand in his hand and tried to wave it.

A violent golden lightning shot out from the top of the wand, and the lightning raged in the store, burning most of the counter to ashes.

Mr. Ollivander took a step back. He was not surprised at all by this behavior that almost destroyed the store. Instead, he muttered, "It seems that it won't work. Pine wood alone is not suitable for you." He ignored the burnt counter and found another wand and handed it to Alan. "This one is maple wood, suitable for travelers or adventurers," Mr. Ollivander paused, "Oh, I forgot to say, thirteen inches, dragon nerves." This time, the wand was just in hand, and Alan was shaking violently before he waved it, and then a cloud of black smoke was sprayed out, and the people in the store couldn't open their eyes. "Ahem..." Alan coughed a few times and put down the wand quickly, finally stopping the thick smoke from continuing to erupt. Professor McGonagall and Mr. Ollivander waved their wands at the same time, and a breeze rolled the black smoke out of the room. "This one is not suitable either. I said it, it's really hard to choose a wand that suits you." Mr. Ollivander looked as if it was just as expected.