"Next up, that..."
Tamara looked up at the sign of a shop nearby.
Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
For a Wizard, a wand is more than just a tool; it is an extension of one's limbs and a resonance of the soul.
In her past life, that yew wand had accompanied her for half a century, witnessing all her glory and sin.
"I wonder if my old friend is still here."
Tamara touched her empty sleeve and pushed open the dilapidated door.
The shop was tiny and empty except for a few benches. Thousands of narrow boxes were stacked almost to the ceiling, making the entire shop feel incredibly cramped.
"Good afternoon."
A soft voice pulled Tamara back from her memories.
Garrick Ollivander drifted out from behind the shelves like a ghost.
"I thought you would have come sooner." Ollivander stared at Tamara with a gaze that made her very uncomfortable, as if he could see right through her skin to the soul beneath.
"Miss Riddle." Ollivander whispered the surname, his tone carrying an elusive tremor, "Riddle once again."
Tamara felt a chill in her heart.
"Do you know my family?" she asked, feigning curiosity.
"No, I simply remember every wand I have ever sold."
Ollivander walked up to her, his gaze somewhat distant. "The summer of 1938, a young man who looked very much like you... yew, thirteen and a half inches, Phoenix feather."
"That was a... very powerful, and very terrible wand."
"That young man did great things, although... they were terrible things."
Tamara maintained a perfect smile. This old fellow talked far too much; she really wanted to make him shut up forever.
"I've come to buy my wand, sir," she reminded him softly.
"Of course, of course." Ollivander pulled a tape measure with silver markings from his pocket. "Come now, which is your wand hand?"
"My right."
The tape measure began to automatically measure Tamara's arm, shoulders, and even the distance between her nostrils.
Tamara endured the tape measure slithering over her like a snake, while her eyes searched through the mountain of boxes.
She was looking for that yew wand.
Although her old wand had vanished the night she died, what if? Perhaps it had been sent back here for repairs.
"That will do." Ollivander retracted the tape measure and pulled a box from a shelf.
"Try this one. Dragon Heartstring, Walnut, twelve and a half inches, unyielding. Good for Transfiguration."
Tamara took the wand.
The moment it touched her hand, the wand vibrated violently, then let out a shriek like a red-hot iron, leaping from her hand and puffing out a cloud of black smoke in mid-air.
"Apparently not." Ollivander wasn't surprised at all. "A bit picky. Try this one: Unicorn Hair, Willow, ten inches, suitable for... a pure soul."
Tamara gripped that wand.
There was no reaction whatsoever.
The wand felt like a dead twig in her hand, even conveying a faint sense of rejection, as if it were repulsed by the scent of blood deep within her soul.
Over the next quarter-hour, Tamara tried over a dozen wands.
Not a single one was right.
Some even rolled onto the floor before they even touched her hand.
"Very... very picky," Ollivander murmured to himself as he rummaged deep within the shelves.
"In that case..."
Watching Ollivander's back, Tamara finally couldn't help but hint, "Sir, do you have something... made of a more powerful wood? Like—yew?"
Ollivander stopped in his tracks.
He turned around and looked at Tamara with an extremely complex expression.
"Very well, if you insist."
Ollivander pulled a black box from a dusty corner.
"yew, thirteen inches, Dragon Heartstring. This wand has been here for a long time; it is waiting for someone with a sense of dominance."
Tamara's heart rate quickened.
yew—her old partner from her previous life.
Tamara reached out, her fingertips trembling as she touched the wand.
However, the very instant she gripped it—
[Warning! High-risk Black Magic compatibility source detected!]
[virtue system intervention: Soul Purification Protocol initiated.]
*Sizzle—*
It wasn't the wand that rejected her, but the system within her that rejected the wand!
A burst of pale gold electricity erupted from Tamara's palm, striking the yew wand forcefully.
The wand let out a mournful cry, a fine crack appearing on its body, before it wrenched itself from her hand like a startled venomous snake and rolled into a corner, shivering.
Ollivander gasped, looking at Tamara in shock.
"yew... fears you?"
Tamara looked at her smoking palm, cursing eighteen generations of the virtue system's ancestors in her mind.
Damn it! This system not only forced her to be a good person but even stripped her of the right to use this wand!
"It seems yew is not for you either." Ollivander pensively put away the poor wand. "Since yew, which symbolizes death and rebirth, will not do, then..."
The old man's eyes suddenly lit up, as if he had thought of an incredible possibility.
"This is very strange... but perhaps, it is precisely because of that."
He walked quickly to the very back of the shop and took down a faded purple box from the highest shelf.
A slender, supple wand of a warm brown color lay quietly upon the velvet.
"holly wood, Phoenix feather, eleven inches."
Ollivander handed the wand to Tamara, his voice becoming solemn.
"holly wood is a wood of protection; it not only wards off evil but also helps its master overcome anger and impulsiveness. And the Phoenix feather within..."
Tamara looked at the wand, then reached out and gripped the handle.
This time, there was no rejection, no shriek.
A surge of warmth instantly flowed from her fingertips throughout her body, like rain after a long drought. The magic within her cheered, forming a perfect resonance with the wand.
A stream of brilliant golden sparks erupted from the tip of the wand, illuminating the entire dim shop. The sparks danced in the air, faintly forming the shape of a Phoenix.
A perfect match.
Even more of a match than the yew wand from her previous life.
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining a signature weapon!]
[Item Name: Wand of Salvation]
[Quality: Legendary]
[System Evaluation: This wand naturally counters the Black Magic and possesses an extremely strong positive energy guidance. With it, you are one step closer to becoming a saint!]
Tamara held the wand, feeling as nauseated as if she had swallowed a fly.
She knew this wand.
This was supposed to be Harry Potter's wand.
This was the signature weapon of the Boy Who Lived.
And now, this wand that originally belonged to "the savior" had actually chosen her, a Dark Lord?
"Curious... how curious..." Ollivander watched Tamara, who was bathed in golden light, nodding excitedly.
"What's curious?" Tamara asked through gritted teeth, trying hard not to let her expression crumble.
"Remember what I said? That yew wand that belonged to your... to that young man with the same surname."
"The Phoenix feather in this wand, and the one in that yew wand, came from the same Phoenix. Fawkes only gave two feathers—one made that one, and the other... is the one in your hand."
"They are Brother Wands."
The air froze.
Tamara felt that the world was truly full of malicious irony.
In her past life, she was the monster who used the yew wand to kill.
In this life, she held that wand's brother—this holly wood wand that was originally meant to oppose her, symbolizing 'love and justice'.
"Perhaps this is the arrangement of fate."
Ollivander sighed softly. "holly wood chose you, meaning this Phoenix hopes to see a kind of redemption."
"Perhaps this wand can end the pain left behind by that yew wand."
Tamara gripped the wand, which was warm to the point of being hot, but her heart was cold.
No.
This wasn't redemption.
This was plunder.
She had snatched Harry Potter's wand. That little four-eyed brat was now destined to use a second-rate substitute.
"This is very interesting, Mr. Ollivander."
Tamara looked up, a smile on her face that was so bright it was slightly distorted.
"I will use it well. After all..."
She flicked the wand lightly, causing the golden Phoenix phantom to dissipate into the air.
"...since it chose me, then it is mine—whether for redemption or for something else."
Tamara slapped gold coins onto the counter, grabbed the wand, and turned to leave. She didn't want to stay in front of this old man for a moment longer.
Tamara stood on the street, looking at the beautiful holly wood wand in her hand.
"Harry Potter..."
She whispered the name.
"Your wand is in my hands, your chance to enter school is in my hands, even your little life..."
Then she shook her head. "...Never mind, that will have to wait."