Chapter 20: The Wand Core Supplier

Words : 1099 Updated : Sep 25th, 2025

In this chapter, From morning to noon, and then into the afternoon. By the time Harold finally looked up... Continue reading Chapter 20 of "Harry Potter: The Wandmaker" for the full story!

From morning to noon, and then into the afternoon. By the time Harold finally looked up again, eight full hours had passed. Fixing this wand had taken him a solid eight hours—more exhausting than carving a new one from scratch. But the result was worth it. The wand, once split into three pieces, was whole again. All those web-like cracks had vanished completely. The original repair charm placed on the wand had helped immensely, greatly boosting Harold's efficiency throughout the process. "Is it fixed?" Hagrid asked nervously. He'd been standing there the entire time, not moving an inch. "Pretty much," Harold said, pulling out a tall bottle filled with green liquid and placing the wand inside. "Revita-Elixir stimulates secondary wood growth, allowing the broken parts to heal. Combined with the repair charm already in place, your wand should be fully restored in about a week." "Really?" Hagrid's eyes lit up as he carefully took the bottle from Harold. "Of course," Harold said. "You can still use it in the meantime—it won't interfere with the process. Just make sure to return it to the solution afterward." "This is amazing! I don't even know how to thank you..." "That's easy. Just bring me some magical creature materials from the Forbidden Forest," Harold said with a grin, making no attempt to hide his intentions. He'd had this idea years ago—he just never had a proper chance to talk to Hagrid about it until now. "No problem!" Hagrid agreed almost immediately. He spun around in a flurry and came up with a filthy old mat. "How about this?" Hmm... a mat woven from unicorn hair. "Yeah, no thanks," Harold said, shaking his head. His grandfather, Ollivander, had already proven that unicorn tail hair made the best wand cores. Harold could turn other parts into cores, but there was no point. If tail hair scored a perfect hundred, other parts barely made a seventy—maybe fifty at best. Why waste time making a subpar core when you had access to the best? Unless... Hagrid could somehow get a unicorn heart—but even Ollivander hadn't managed that. Unicorns dissolved into the earth shortly after death. Harold didn't bother hoping. Harold explained his requirements to Hagrid. Unicorns? Only tail hair. But everything else—shells, scales, fur, teeth—was fair game. He'd take it all. If the creature was already dead, even better. Hagrid hesitated for a long while. "That's just how wandmaking works," Harold said quietly. "My grandfather spent ten years finding the three cores that suited him best: unicorn, phoenix, and dragon." "And I have to go through the same process to find mine." "But... hasn't Mr. Ollivander already figured it out?" Hagrid asked. "Can't you just use the ones he picked?" "I can," Harold said. "But if I do, I'll never be a top-tier wandmaker." "Why not?" "Because I'm not my grandfather," Harold explained. "Back in the last century, when my great-grandmother ran the wand shop, the most common cores were thunderbird feathers, manticore stingers, and kelpie manes." "You can use those to make wands?" Hagrid asked. "Of course," Harold nodded. "Kelpies make fantastic Transfiguration wands, and manticore stingers are incredible for Dark Arts. But my grandfather didn't like them—he always said kelpie manes smelled like seaweed." Hagrid listened with rapt attention. He'd never guessed the Ollivander family had such an interesting history. He'd assumed the thousands of wands in the Diagon Alley shop, and the methods to make them, had simply been passed down unchanged through generations. "So you need to find your own cores?" Hagrid asked, starting to understand. "You could put it that way," Harold said, hesitating. His situation was different—he couldn't be called a traditional wandmaker. After all, not his grandfather, nor his great-grandmother, nor anyone else in their centuries-long family line had ever thought of stuffing a toad tongue into a wand. That meant Harold had more options to explore—and the sooner he started preparing, the better. The Forbidden Forest was a perfect resource. And with Hagrid's help, he didn't need to worry about danger. A win-win. By evening, Harold left Hagrid's hut. Hagrid had agreed to his request and even promised to help him find a Bowtruckle nest. With a good wand core, you needed a good wand wood to match—and that wasn't a problem for Hagrid. He could just look around while patrolling the forest. But he did make Harold promise—repeatedly—not to sneak into the forest alone. If he did, Hagrid said he wouldn't help anymore. Harold agreed without hesitation. He was a first-year. Only someone with a death wish would wander into the Forbidden Forest alone. Relying on Hagrid was the smart move. By the time Harold returned to the castle, it was just in time for dinner. Since it was the first weekend of term, the Great Hall was buzzing. Even Dumbledore was there, sitting at the staff table and chatting cheerfully with Snape. To the left were Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout from Herbology. "Hey, Harold—" Harry waved from across the room. "Where've you been? We were looking for you all day." "I was with Hagrid," Harold replied. "Remember? I said I had to help him fix something." "Hagrid..." Harry paused for a second and glanced at Ron beside him. Ron happened to be looking at him too. The moment their eyes met, they both immediately looked away. And that's why those two were hopeless at keeping secrets—anyone could tell something was off, even Neville. But since Harry didn't say anything, Harold didn't ask. He had more important things on his mind than the Chosen One's curiosity about the magical world. Dinner was more lavish than usual, with creamy corn soup and thick, juicy steaks—not bad at all. Nearby, Harry and Ron were chatting about Malfoy from Slytherin. Harold caught a few words—it seemed they'd had a bit of a verbal spat with him in the corridors earlier that day. Ron even asked Harold what he thought, but Harold didn't respond. After he was sorted into Gryffindor, Malfoy's enthusiasm for him had plummeted. They hadn't even spoken since. What was strange, though, was that Malfoy still hadn't asked for his deposit back—the thirty Galleons he'd paid on the boat for that color-changing spray. No cancellation. No follow-up. It was like he'd completely forgotten. Well, if Malfoy wasn't in a hurry, Harold was in no rush either. ... (End of Chapter)

Chapter 20: The Wand Core Supplier

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