Chapter 8 - 8: To Hell with It!

Ollivander moved skillfully through the shelves, his arms filling up with long wand boxes. A few minutes later, he placed seven or eight of them on the table and took one out, handing it to Audrey. "I believe a lady as beautiful as you would be best suited for this one—unicorn hair core, walnut wood, seven and three-quarter inches long. A perfect match for your proportions." Edward had already explained to her the importance of wands to wizards. So, when she finally held one in her hands, she couldn't help but feel a little excited. However, before she could even give it a wave, Ollivander quickly snatched it back. "Oh no, this one doesn't suit you at all. I can't sense any magical resonance." Edward sighed and rubbed his forehead. Here we go again! This old wandmaker, with decades of experience, was a master bullshitter. Every young witch or wizard who stepped into his shop would walk out with the illusion of being unique—of being the protagonist of their own story. Ollivander picked up another wand. "Let's try this one—holly wood, dragon heartstring, quite flexible." Audrey took the wand and gently swished it. A soft breeze stirred in the shop, bringing with it a pleasant sensation. "Oh, this one seems quite suitable!" Edward was surprised. Already? The second wand? Did Audrey's age make her less susceptible to Ollivander's usual theatrics? But the old wandmaker wasn't done yet. He pulled out another. "Let's try this one—ebony wood, dragon heartstring, eight inches long." Audrey gave it a wave. The same soft breeze followed. "Marvellous, marvellous, simply marvellous," Ollivander praised. "But what about this one? Acacia wood, dragon heartstring, eight and a quarter inches." The result was identical. Audrey continued testing another seven or eight wands, all with dragon heartstring cores. Each one seemed to resonate with her. Ollivander grew increasingly astonished. "This is truly unprecedented! I've never met someone who harmonizes so well with so many different wands! And yet…I still feel none of them are the perfect match for you!" Edward whispered, "Audrey, how do these wands feel when you use them?" She thought for a moment before replying, "It's fascinating! It feels like an amplifier—it enhances my senses and intuition." "And besides that?" Audrey gripped the wand more tightly and concentrated. "It seems…my observational abilities have also improved. For example…I can see the guilt hiding in your eyes." "???" Edward instinctively turned away from her gaze but quickly composed himself. "W-What guilt? I have nothing to feel guilty about." She didn't press further, only giving him a knowing smile. "Damn 'Spectators' are the worst!" Edward wasn't actually guilty of anything—he was just hesitating on whether or not to introduce Audrey to the modern world outside of the magical one. Compared to Hogwarts, which bore some resemblance to Loen, a bustling metropolis would be far more of a shock to her. Just then, Ollivander emerged from the corner, holding a long-forgotten box covered in dust. "At last! This is a wand I crafted in my younger days, purely out of curiosity." "Ah, here comes the cliché..." Edward mused. He opened the case, revealing a wand as translucent as white agate, more akin to a piece of fine art than a tool of magic. "Dragon bone and dragon heartstring, nine inches long. I once believed that the wizard who wielded it would possess magic as fierce as a fire dragon. But alas, no one has ever been recognized by it. Give it a try, my dear." As soon as she held it, a refreshing coolness spread through her hand. The texture was smoother than any wooden wand she had tried. If the others felt like extensions of her arm, this one felt like it had fused completely with her being. Audrey gave it a gentle wave. A violent gust of wind howled through the shop—yet, strangely, nothing was disturbed. It was as if the wind existed outside the physical world. "Spectacular! Simply spectacular! This wand was made for you!" The old wandmaker danced with joy, as if he had just achieved something extraordinary. Then, in the next second, his tone changed as he extended his hand toward Edward. "That'll be 98 Galleons." Edward was stunned. "98 Galleons?! Aren't first-year wands standardised at 7 Galleons?" Ollivander shrugged. "That's for common materials. This wand is crafted from a fire dragon's skull—specifically, the bone that connects its forehead to its brain." Edward gritted his teeth. "You scammer!" Audrey gently poked him and whispered, "I will…repay you double when we get back." Oh, right. How could he forget? She was a real rich lady—money wasn't an issue for her. Just as Edward handed over a pouch of gold Galleons, the ground suddenly trembled. A deafening roar echoed through Diagon Alley. The street fell silent for a moment before wizards and witches turned toward the sound. A few pointed to the sky, shouting in panic, "A dragon! It's a dragon! The Gringotts dragon has escaped!!" In the distance, Gringotts was in ruins. A massive fire-breathing dragon stood atop the shattered rooftops, letting out a furious roar. "Holy sh—!!" Edward was utterly dumbfounded. Wasn't the dragon escape scene in the sixth or seventh book? What the hell is going on?! "Wait a second…In the first book, Quirrell broke into Gringotts under Voldemort's orders to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, but…did it cause this much of a mess?" Audrey, fascinated, observed the scene with wide eyes. "Is that a dragon from your world?" In the Lord of the Mysteries universe, most supernatural creatures lived in remote areas, rarely seen by humans. Even Beyonders only encountered them in potion ingredients—eyes, claws, brains, and so on. Ollivander clicked his tongue and sighed, "I knew this day would come, but I didn't expect it so soon. Those greedy goblins…They thought they could imprison a majestic fire dragon to guard their vaults. That's an insult to freedom! A disgrace to all living beings!" Then, as if he had just thought of something, he added with a glint in his eye, "Tsk, better to just kill it and use its remains to craft more wands." Edward glanced at him in disbelief. You're not any better, old man! The fire dragon gave a powerful flap of its wings, staggering into the air. In its clumsy ascent, it crashed through the rooftops of more than a dozen buildings before finally regaining its balance and soaring higher. ROOOOAAAR— The dragon circled over Diagon Alley, letting out deep, rumbling growls, refusing to leave. "Isn't anyone going to do something about this?" "Who would dare?" Ollivander snorted. "The goblins consider that dragon their private property. If someone tries to intervene and gets burned, the goblins might even use it as an excuse to demand compensation. Ah, but look—the Aurors have finally arrived." The old wandmaker, having enjoyed enough of the spectacle, leisurely turned and strolled back into his shop. A group of wizards in Auror robes began their assault on the dragon. It endured dozens of direct magical attacks before finally roaring in pain. Enraged, it unleashed a series of blazing infernos before taking off into the sky, vanishing beyond the horizon. The Aurors quickly mounted their brooms and gave chase. And with that, the dramatic show came to an end. The gathered crowd erupted into chatter, most of them gloating over the goblins' misfortune. Clearly, many took pleasure in seeing Gringotts suffer. Edward was about to suggest they move on when Audrey suddenly whispered, "Edward…" "What is it?" "I have this strange feeling…that dragon was looking for me." There was uncertainty in her tone. "But that doesn't make any sense, does it?" She lowered her gaze to the crystalline wand in her hand. "Could it be because of this?" For a brief moment, Edward was caught off guard, but then a possibility crossed his mind. It might have something to do with the potion Audrey had taken. The Spectator pathway once belonged exclusively to dragons. As one ascended to higher Sequences, they gradually developed draconic traits. Perhaps the combination of her Beyonder abilities and the wand—crafted from dragon bone and dragon heartstring—created some kind of unusual reaction, drawing the fire dragon's attention. Of course, this was all just speculation. With a chuckle, he waved it off. "Don't overthink it. It's probably just your imagination." "Anyway, we have an appointment with Fawkes at one o'clock. We still have an hour—let's look around and grab something to eat." As he turned, his gaze landed on a massive figure pushing a cart stacked high with goods. Beside him was a small boy with round glasses and messy black hair. Hagrid and Harry Potter. Without hesitation, Edward cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, blending into the background. Hagrid paused, scratching his head in confusion. "Huh? Did I imagine that?" "What's wrong, Hagrid?" "I thought I saw a friend of mine," Hagrid muttered. "He's one of your future schoolmates—just like me, he loves magical creatures. But…" Hagrid hesitated before adding, "He enjoys them in a different way than I do." "I don't get it," Harry said, frowning. "He's more interested in their flavours." "???!" ——— Once the two had walked away, Edward lifted his spell and reappeared. "That big guy is kind of a friend of mine," he said casually. "A really warm-hearted and straightforward fellow. But we still have things to take care of, so I figured we'd skip the small talk." Audrey, naturally observant, could tell he wasn't being entirely honest. In truth, Edward simply wanted to avoid getting too involved with Harry Potter. He didn't want to interfere with the story too soon. The more control he had over future events, the better he could plan ahead. Once his strength was sufficient, he would take steps to deal with Voldemort in advance. That was the essence of strategic foresight. For a transmigrator, knowing the plot was one of the greatest "cheat codes" one could have. Just then, two passing wizards caught Edward's attention. "Did you hear?" one of them said to his companion. "That dragon was released because someone broke into Gringotts!" "No way—who'd have the guts to do that?" "You won't believe it. We saw him earlier in the Leaky Cauldron—Quirinus Quirrell, that bloke with the bandages wrapped around his head. Supposedly, he's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts next term." "Impressive!" "Impressive my arse! When the dragon broke out, it stepped right on him! Crushed him flat—his brains splattered all over the place. Ugh, what a way to go…" "Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professors really are cursed!" "Shh! Don't mention him!" The two men walked off, still talking in hushed voices. Edward, however, was frozen in shock. Quirrell is dead?! The same Quirrell who was possessed by Voldemort in The Philosopher's Stone? Just dead, like that?! Then what about Voldemort? Was he dead too? Or had he jumped into another host? And what about the plot of the first book? Without Quirrell…would the story even follow the original timeline? That seemed highly unlikely! "Holy sh—!!" To hell with the plot! To hell with the future! To hell with all the careful planning! ——— [Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated. I'll release the chapter schedule after the first 30 chapters are released.