Hogwarts: Harry Returns From The Witcher

Harry was a little disappointed that he hadn't been able to find out about the blacksmith's shop.

Hogwarts robes also made him a little uncomfortable-he didn't expect them to be so loose, so that there was always a feeling of being stumbling.

He is still more used to wearing armor, even tights are better.

Hagrid came back soon and took him to buy other things, cauldrons, herbs, books, and a trip to the pet store. Hagrid gave him an early birthday present-a beautiful, very sweet smiling dog snowy owl.

Birthday.

July 31st.

He almost forgot about this day, the witcher is a different kind, although his essence is still human, he still celebrates his birthday. But most of the situations are in the wilderness, demon protection, or being chased and escaped by humans and monsters. Harry has not had a good birthday for a long time.

"Finally it's time to buy you a wand." Hagrid looked at the list and muttered, "Ollivander is the best wand master, and you will definitely buy the most suitable wand there."

The wizard's "blacksmith shop".

The environment was a bit different from the environment Harry had imagined—a small, shabby, dusty cupboard, with only a wand standing alone.

Pushing the door open and entering, the atmosphere in the room is also a bit depressing, no... It's not a problem with the environment.

Demon hunters have extremely keen senses.

Once inside, Harry noticed it.

The breaths of thousands of powerful creatures are mixed together, and there are also mixed fluctuations of magic power.

"Oh, a sharp lad." A soft voice suddenly came from behind a counter, startling Hagrid. Harry had been prepared for this, he had noticed that... this one had almost no sense of presence, An old man who could almost escape from his perception.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter, you are more perceptive than your mother." The old man with silver eyes came out from behind the counter and looked at Harry. "You seem to be able to detect the breath of these wands?"

Harry nodded, "Yes."

"If only I had a talent like yours." Ollivander muttered, "It's only after thirty years of being with the wand that I can perceive like you."

"It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?"

"A tiny wand with its own breath, their own life, their own thoughts..."

"No." Harry said bluntly, "this feeling makes me very uncomfortable."

"Like..."

"Suddenly broke into a lair with thousands of monsters staring at me."

"They're all threatening."

Ollivander was taken aback, then laughed: "Oh...very interesting point of view, in your eyes, is anything that doesn't belong to you a threat?"

"You are very different from your parents, maybe... this is the little special thing about the Savior?"

"Usually, when little wizards come, I'm reminded of their parents—children always inherit something from their parents, so I'll let them try wands that combine the traits of both parents."

"Let me think..."

Ollivander turned around, picked at the counter, and quickly brought out a box: "Try this one, beech wood, snake nerve, nine inches."

Harry took it over, and there was a mixed breath on this wand, but after struggling in his hand, it became very obedient, and he waved it lightly.

A red light came out, raising a breeze.

Ollivander looked at Harry in surprise: "Oh...strange."

He took the wand back, but instead of putting it back, he set it aside and shoved Harry another one: "Try this one, black walnut, phoenix feather, eleven inches and one-thirds one."

The wand also struggled, and soon became obedient.

Gently waving, a breeze.

"Oh, that's so strange!" Ollivander's eyes lit up and his tone became excited, "Try this one, fir wood, unicorn hair, ten and a half inches .”

"Survivor's wand, should it suit you better?"

Harry took it, waved blankly.

"No, no, it doesn't suit you either." Ollivander snatched it up again and stuffed it in again, "Applewood, dragon's nerve, nine and seven-twelfths of an inch."

This one still doesn't fit.

Alder, Holly, Blackthorn...

Tried a lot, but none could satisfy Ollivander.

"You let me think about it, honey, let me think about it." Ollivander rubbed his head.

Harry asked, "So in fact, every wand material corresponds to a personality trait?"

Ollivander nodded: "Yes."

"Your mother is a gentle person, and your father is also a qualified leader—I think if you inherit their advantages, then beech wood must be the most suitable for you."

"That wand doesn't resist you, but...it's not your like-minded partner, it just surrenders to you willingly."

"You're a sharp little gentleman, so I think the black walnut might suit you, and it's also sharp, but like the last wand, it's a courtier, not a companion."

"I started to look at your other traits, but...they all behave the same, they're all average."

Speaking of this, Ollivander raised his head and looked at Harry with a complicated expression: "Of course, every little wizard who is destined to be excellent in the future is always like this."

"There may be something in them... that is hard for ordinary people to perceive, but the wand is always sensitive to these qualities."

"Just like that gentleman." Ollivander couldn't help trembling, and his eyes fell on Harry's forehead, "Just like the gentleman who left you with a scar."

"I thought he'd be good for elm or acacia or vine, but in the end it was yew that suited him."

"It's a wand that is very good at black magic. Some of its owners are even notorious."

Harry was expressionless.

Hagrid was trembling, looking at Ollivander and then at Harry, a little confused.

"But you're not like that either." Ollivander frowned, "Those wands that are good at black magic are more willing to resist you than other wands."

"In your hands...it's like prey."

Harry laughed at himself—he is a demon hunter. Even though humans would curse them as freaks, monsters, and unemotional aliens, they are indeed "bringers of justice" who hunt and kill darkness and monsters.

"I thought what Dumbledore said was right, you are suitable for that wand in fate." Ollivander picked up one and showed it to Harry, "This one, holly, phoenix feather, eleven inch."

"The same phoenix feather was used to make two wands, one of which was this one."

"And the other one, yew, thirteen inches and a half, was sold to the unnameable Dark Lord."

"But it's not for you either."

"You are not bound by fate, as Dumbledore expected."

Harry raised his hand and touched his scar: "Really, that's really a pity."

Ollivander stood up suddenly and looked at Harry: "Oh, I have an idea!"

"Yes, you are very smart and mature, but never a young wizard, or even an adult wizard, has a hard time realizing what the saying 'the wand chooses the wizard' means."

"You noticed it from the beginning, although I don't like your way of saying it."

"Maybe you should try this one?"

Ollivander rummaged for a wand: "Cedar, phoenix feather, eleven inches."

"I would never consider provoking the owner of a cedar wand. There are very few wizards who can own this kind of wand. They all have very keen insight and observation."

"I think it would suit you well."

Harry stretched out his hand and took it. The breath on the wand didn't struggle, but tentatively touched his hand, and then happily entangled it.

He waved lightly.

The breeze blew, and Ollivander grinned.

"Sure enough!" The image was ruined, but Ollivander didn't care about it, and clapped his hands, "This wand is the most suitable for you."

"You're a fussy little wizard, oh, I should put you in the book, it's amazing."

Harry played with the small stick and nodded: "Thank you, how much is this wand?"

"Seven Galleons." Ollivander replied, muttering, and took out a book from behind the counter, "The Maintenance of Magic Wands, this book is for you."

"Remember, be kind to it."

"It won't be so easy when you pick another wand that fits."

Harry took the book while taking out Garen, and asked casually, "By the way, Mr. Ollivander, I have something to ask you."

Ollivander raised his eyebrows: "What's the matter?"

"Do you know Diagon Alley, or where there's a smithy?" Harry asked.

Ollivander was taken aback, and his eyes widened.

God...

What did I hear...

"Why are you asking this?" He stammered, looking at the wand in Harry's hand, he couldn't help but spit in his heart - he didn't feel any unpleasant breath from the wand.

You master, just after you got it, you are thinking about other weapons!

You wake up!

Stop licking him!

"I want to fight two swords." Harry replied seriously, "I might be better at being... a wizard like Gryffindor." He took the rhetoric he had just heard from the clothing store and used it directly.

"Gryffindor only has one sword." Ollivander said expressionlessly, his voice was cold, and he clicked, "And there is no blacksmith in Diagon Alley!"

"A hundred years ago, there were goblins doing this business, specially forging weapons for young Muggle-born wizards, but... the times have changed now, and no little wizard would buy that kind of rude, cruel, barbaric thing!"

"The goblins are all working at Gringotts now."

Harry sighed: "It's such a pity, then do you know any goblins, I would like to invite..."

"No, I don't know!" Ollivander gritted his teeth and interrupted Harry roughly, "It's fine for a wizard to know how to use a wand, and you have to treat it well!"

"The time of Gryffindor is over!"

"Okay, choose a wand for you troublesome little wizard, I'm already very tired, let me have a good rest."

Both of them were kicked out.

Harry wasn't surprised at all, witchers seemed to have this problem.

Obviously, it feels like talking well, but in the end...it will always be reduced to the point of solving problems with swords or fists.

Hagrid looked at Harry with a strange expression: "I've never seen Mr. Ollivander so angry, Harry...you really are a qualified Gryffindor."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

so…

Would be irritating, the equivalent of Gryffindor?

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