"I possess some rudimentary knowledge," Morin said. "In my view, a wizard should craft their own wand. It allows for a better connection. It feels like a natural extension of one's hand."
"You are not wrong..." Mr. Ollivander gave Morin another long, measuring look. "However, are you certain you won't try one first? I believe the right wand is waiting for you here."
"Very well." Since it made little difference, Morin shrugged. "I'll give them a try first."
Ollivander immediately stepped behind a shelf, hesitated, then pulled a rectangular box from a dusty stack. He returned to the counter, opened it, and presented it to Morin.
"Ash. Unicorn hair core. Thirteen inches. Very sturdy."
"Hm..." Morin picked up the wand, guided a trace of magic into it, and gave it a light flick.
A small flower bloomed in the air.
"The connection is tight," he said. "But mediocre."
He placed the wand back into its box.
"It works."
"Working is not the standard for choosing a wand," Ollivander said knowingly. "It must be the perfect fit."
He closed the box, set it aside, and pulled another from a different shelf.
"Try this one. Blackthorn. Twelve inches. Dragon heartstring core."
"I'm neither an Auror nor a prisoner of Azkaban," Morin said dryly. Still, he picked it up and waved it.
Another flower appeared, slightly larger.
"It works."
As expected.
A wand's purpose was to channel magic. A catalyst. One that resonated better with its wielder could mobilize internal magic more efficiently and with less loss.
After two attempts, Morin was already certain of that.
In that case-
"I seem to have met a customer who isn't very picky..." Ollivander muttered. "But as the saying goes, there is a perfect match for everyone."
He pulled out yet another box and placed it in front of Morin.
"Try this."
After a long while.
The counter was cluttered with wands.
Hornbeam. Elder. Redwood. Holly.
Thunderbird tail feathers. Basilisk horns. Horned serpent horns.
Every combination of wood and core had been tested.
Every wand worked.
Yet none gave Morin the sensation Ollivander described. None felt as though it had been born to wait for him.
Throughout it all, Ollivander showed no impatience. If anything, his interest deepened, edging toward something close to fanaticism.
As a master wandmaker, finding the perfect wand for every wizard was not preference.
It was destiny.
"Perhaps this one will be as you wish..." Ollivander rummaged through the back, heedless of the chaos he was creating. At last, he returned with an ancient, battered box and placed it down carefully.
"Alder. Phoenix feather core. Thirteen and a quarter inches. Slightly springy."
"Hm." Morin raised an eyebrow.
Before he even touched it, the magical elements inside stirred faintly.
Vibrating.
Urging him.
This was the first wand to react on its own.
Morin grasped it, infused a sliver of magic, and flicked his wrist.
The room exploded with flowers.
Harmony washed over him in an instant. If not for his awareness, he might have mistaken the wand for an extension of his arm.
Ollivander's craftsmanship was undeniable.
"This is the one," Morin said, nodding.
"How... marvelous," Ollivander whispered. "Without a doubt, a perfect match."
"Yes. I'm very satisfied." Morin gave the wand a brief flourish, then stowed it away. "However, I still need to purchase some wandmaking materials."
"Of course. While this shop has never offered such a service before, it is not out of the question," Ollivander agreed.
"By the way, how much?"
"Seven Gold Galleons, sir." Ollivander opened a cabinet beside the counter and took out a key. "Normally, only first-year Hogwarts students receive this price. But since this is your first visit-and you are about to bring unprecedented business-I shall make an exception."
Tinkle.
The shop door opened, and the bell rang.
"Forgive me... Albus?" Ollivander apologized to Morin as he turned.
Hearing the name, Morin looked back.
White hair. A long, thick beard. Half-moon spectacles resting over kind eyes. A stooped figure that concealed the peak of magical power in this world.
Order of Merlin, First Class. Founder and Secret-Keeper of the Order of the Phoenix. Supreme Mugwump. Chief Warlock.
Albus Dumbledore.
A man worthy of respect.
"Ollivander," Albus said, glancing at the piles of wand boxes before turning to Morin. He nodded politely. "It seems you've met a discerning customer."
"As long as the right wand is found, it is cause for celebration," Ollivander replied. His gaze shifted to Dumbledore. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, and every person who took one. The wand you carry now... elder wood, thestral tail hair, fifteen inches. A powerful wand. Breathtaking craftsmanship."
"It is indeed," Dumbledore said, smiling at Morin. "However, that is not why I'm here today. I shall wait until you have finished your business."
"Then you may be waiting a moment," Ollivander said, jingling his key. "This gentleman wishes to buy materials. I was just about to take him to the storeroom."
"Wandmaking materials?" Dumbledore's eyes shifted to Morin, surprise flickering briefly.
"Morin. From China," Morin said, extending his hand. "You may call me Morin. I am a wandmaker. I require materials to craft a wand. This is my first visit here, so I came to Mr. Ollivander to ensure quality. Naturally, finding a suitable wand was also a priority."
"I see." Dumbledore shook his hand. "You are the youngest wandmaker I have ever met, Mr. Morin."
"There are always those with natural gifts," Morin said lightly. "Actually, I planned to seek you out later. Since we've met, may I ask a favor?"
"Of course."
"I heard," Morin paused, "that Hogwarts is looking for a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
"Ah... that position has already been filled by Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore said apologetically. "And there is something else you should know. While there is no definitive proof, no professor in that role has lasted more than a year."
"The curse. Yes, I'm aware." Morin nodded, unfazed. "However, I believe my teaching and magical ability are sufficient. More importantly... your Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum has only one professor, correct?"
"That is correct."
"Hogwarts has seven years and four houses," Morin continued evenly. "If each house attends separate lessons, Professor Quirrell has little rest during the week. When fifth-years face their O.W.L.s and seventh-years their N.E.W.T.s, the burden increases further."
He met Dumbledore's eyes.
"That level of strain is irresponsible. To both professor and students. Especially for a subject as vital as Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Hm." Dumbledore considered it. "You have a point. It is worth discussion."
"So if you decide to hire a second professor," Morin said, "I am currently unattached. I have always admired Hogwarts. I'll be staying at the Leaky Cauldron until term begins."
"If we determine it is necessary, I will contact the Ministry at once," Dumbledore said. "But before that-may I see your identification? Forgive me, but inviting a wizard onto the staff requires due diligence."
"Of course." Morin raised an eyebrow and produced his documents directly from his system space. "This should clarify matters."
"Hm..." Dumbledore examined them carefully, then returned them. "I had intended to test your magical ability. But that seems unnecessary. A wandmaker would hardly lack magic."
"Thank you," Morin said. "I assure you, my teaching will not disappoint."
"I look forward to it," Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling.
"Gentlemen," Ollivander said, jingling his keys again, "forgive the interruption. Mr. Morin, do you still require your materials?"
"Certainly." Morin turned back, smiling faintly as his plan continued without resistance. "I intend to craft a very special wand."
-
"Are you sure you wish to make a wand," Ollivander asked, staring at the mountain of rare materials, "and not a thousand?"
The pile was absurd.
"Yes. Strictly speaking, the wand I intend to craft is highly unique," Morin explained. "I require a large volume of material for experimentation."
"Ah... that explains it." Ollivander calculated briefly. "One thousand five hundred Gold Galleons."
"Done." Morin paid without hesitation. "You may count it."
"No need. Albus is here. And if you truly intend to work at Hogwarts, you wouldn't resort to tricks. Besides, for a wandmaker, this is a trifle."
"Indeed." Morin nodded. "Then I'll take my leave. Mr. Ollivander. Mr. Dumbledore. Until we meet again."
"I look forward to seeing your wand," both men said together.
"It will surprise you." Morin smiled, nodded once, and left the shop.
"Such a gifted individual," Ollivander murmured after he was gone. "He reminds me of Grindelwald. Of you. Of... him."
"No," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "He is different. He makes me feel light. Cheerful. He possesses strength and talent, yet remains polite. He is nothing like Tom."
"A reminder, then," Ollivander sighed. "So, why have you come today?"
"Well... it's a private request," Dumbledore said.
-
So that leaves the bookstore. Then an owl.
Morin planned as he walked.
Books were essential. If he was going to teach, he needed proper textbooks. Improvisation wouldn't suffice.
An owl was non-negotiable. He wasn't buying a toad or a cat. Communication mattered in the Wizarding World. Teleportation was tedious, and telepathy...
That would terrify people.
Still, Dumbledore's wandless Legilimency was impressive.
It almost breached my passive mental barrier.
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Chapter 5: Eve's Heart
Emiya also left the scene and went to Kimberly's office, where he found her busy with work.
"Yo, I need your help with something."
"You should at least knock before you come in," Kimberly complained, then looked up.
"So, what is it?"
"Get me a few Eve's Hearts."
The Eve's Heart was a magic circuit.
It was what gave the automatons their self-awareness.
This was a basic magic circuit, and almost every automaton had it installed to give them self-healing, self-awareness, intelligence, and a sense of being a living creature.
What was more interesting was that there was a very basic principle in Machinart called the "magic activity non-harmony principle."
This principle stated that a body was not allowed to have two magic circuits.
But what was even more interesting was that the Eve's Heart was the only exception.
This meant that a machine-doll could have one Eve's Heart and one other magic circuit, but that was the limit.
It was impossible to have a third magic circuit.
The Eve's Heart was also a highly flexible circuit.
It not only gave the automaton intelligence, but if a skilled puppeteer created one, it could also allow the automaton to breathe and sweat, and even digest food.
In a way, it was very similar to a homunculus.
Additionally, the Eve's Heart was now completely ubiquitous.
Any automaton factory could produce them.
So as long as you had money, it was no problem to buy a few of them.
In fact, the Machinart information Kimberly had given Emiya a while ago also included the manufacturing method for the Eve's Heart, but it was too troublesome to make it himself, so Emiya decided to have Kimberly buy a few existing ones for him.
Kimberly was a professor of Machinart Physics, and when she heard Emiya, she immediately understood what he was thinking.
"You're planning on building your own automaton."
"Yes." Emiya nodded and told her what he had just seen.
"I plan to build a real dragon that's over a hundred meters long and tens of meters tall."
When Kimberly heard this, she couldn't help but rub her temples.
"Are you sure you want to build such a huge automaton? That's not an easy task. Just the materials alone would be hard to gather."
Emiya laughed.
"You don't have to worry about that. That's not a problem for me."
Kimberly continued to ask, "Have you thought about the academy's reaction? It's impossible to hide such a large automaton. Aren't you afraid that the academy will cause trouble for you? Of course, if you plan to build the automaton in another world, then what I said doesn't matter."
Emiya stroked his chin.
"That's true. The academy is a problem. Maybe I should just summon Loki and take control of the academy."
Kimberly: ...
Summoning a god at the drop of a hat?
That was too much.
Although she admitted that the academy's headmaster was very strong and a great magician, such a magician was insignificant in front of a god.
Kimberly couldn't help but say, "Are you sure that wasn't your plan from the beginning, to turn the entire academy into your territory?"
Emiya gave her a look.
"You're overthinking it. Forget it, we'll talk about this later. Just get me a few Eve's Hearts as soon as possible."
"No problem," Kimberly agreed readily.
Buying a few Eve's Hearts was not difficult for her.
...
Time passed, and in the evening, with a knock, knock, knock, someone knocked on Emiya's door.
Emiya opened the door and saw that it was Kimberly.
She was holding a box in her hand.
"The things you wanted," Kimberly said, handing the box to Emiya.
"Come in."
Emiya took the box and let her in.
Kimberly walked in and was surprised to find that there was another person in Emiya's dorm.
It was a beautiful woman.
The woman was sitting on the sofa, wearing an indigo and purple hooded cloak and a purple robe.
She had long blue hair and eyes, and her ears were pointed, clearly different from a human's.
A braid was tied on the left side of her head.
She was also wearing purple lipstick.
She was, no matter how you looked at it, an alluring beauty.
Kimberly was taken aback.
She was certain that she had never seen such a beautiful woman on campus.
"Who is this..."
"Let me introduce you," Emiya said, returning and placing the box on the coffee table.
He pointed at the alluring beauty.
"This is my lover, Miss Medea."
Then he pointed at Kimberly.
"Medea, this is my partner, and it's not out of the question that she'll become my subordinate in the future. Miss Kimberly."
Kimberly snorted softly.
"You're really mean, trying to turn your partner into a subordinate. It's a pleasure to meet you, Me... Medea!!"
Kimberly couldn't help but let out a gasp.
It was only then that she realized that this name seemed a bit familiar...
She turned to Emiya, hoping he would explain.
Emiya nodded.
"Yes, Medea is who you think she is. The Princess of Colchis."
Kimberly's eyes flickered a few times.
She looked at Emiya with more reverence.
Medea from Greek mythology was not a woman to be trifled with.
She was cold, cruel, and ruthless, skilled in all kinds of schemes.
She was a true villainess.
For Emiya to have found this Medea as a lover, in a way, he was very courageous.
However, Kimberly was a woman of experience, and she quickly adjusted her emotions.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Medea. I'm Kimberly."
Medea nodded slightly and looked Kimberly up and down.
She didn't look away until Kimberly felt chills down her spine.
"I'm not a princess now. I'm just a witch."
Kimberly wasn't stupid.
How could she call her a witch to her face?
She could only show an awkward but polite smile.
"You're just joking, Miss Medea."
Emiya asked casually, "Have you eaten? If not, let's eat together."
Kimberly subconsciously asked, "Are we going to Kikka-ro?"
"Not this time. We'll eat here in the dorm, but it's takeout from Kikka-ro."
"Then... I'll be intruding."
Kimberly had initially wanted to refuse, but when she heard that it was food from Kikka-ro, she was tempted.
After all, it was the best food she had ever eaten.
Emiya smiled and with a wave of his hand, a few dishes appeared on the table.
Kimberly's eyes narrowed a few times.
She couldn't help but ask, "What kind of magic is this?"
Emiya shook his head.
"It's not magic. It's my supernatural ability, 'Fantasy Creation.' I can create things I've seen, eaten, or heard of. Of course, I can also create things that only exist in fantasies."
Kimberly was astonished.
This ability was too terrifying.
"So, you can create any automaton you've seen?"
Emiya nodded.
"If I understand its internal structure, I can indeed do that."
Kimberly asked, "How is that different from a god?"
Emiya smiled and replied, "This ability was bestowed upon me by a god."
Kimberly: ...
She finally realized how terrifying Emiya was.
A thought involuntarily crossed her mind:
maybe becoming his subordinate wasn't such an unacceptable thing, as long as he gave her enough in return.