For Ollivander, discovering that Wyzett had taught himself ritual magic was nothing short of a delightful surprise.
It meant Ollivander could go straight to the heart of the matter, imparting the theoretical foundations of wandmaking without hesitation. He used ritual magic as a bridge, making complex concepts accessible for Wyzett, who consistently exceeded expectations—always able to draw connections and accelerate his own progress.
Through a back-and-forth of questions and answers, Wyzett managed to complete his introduction to wandmaking in just about a week and a half. The beginning is always the most challenging, and a wandmaker's future potential is often set by how firmly they grasp the basics.
As for the practical craft of wandmaking, that's a lifetime's work—a slow accumulation of experience and skill, where diligence can eventually make up for any lack of natural talent.
Watching Wyzett wave goodbye, Ollivander couldn't help but feel a pang of wistfulness. With such a gifted mind, what a treasure he would have been if only he'd been born into the Ollivander family!
After a week and a half of wandmaking lessons, Wyzett still felt reluctant to leave. The concept of an endlessly cycling ritual magic within every wand had opened up a world of possibilities; just understanding how that cycle worked was a profound revelation.
As a wandmaker, Ollivander had to do more than simply craft wands—he selected magical woods and cores himself, which meant traveling far and wide, witnessing every corner of the wizarding world. His experience was second to none.
During their lessons, most of the wild ideas that popped into Wyzett's mind found answers in Ollivander's deep well of knowledge.
But as Hogwarts acceptance letters began to arrive, Ollivander grew busy preparing wands for the new students, leaving him no time to continue tutoring Wyzett.
Back home, the garden had changed noticeably. The magical plants surrounding the wand planter were thriving, far more vibrant than those on the outskirts. Even the patch of lawn that Fulgur had blasted into a crater was now lush and green.
When Luna watered the planter, she explained, "It may no longer be a wizard's trusty companion, but it's become a wonderful friend to the garden."
"All the flowers and plants love it. Look—the Christmas cactus dances beside it every day, and even Freya likes to come over for a visit."
Wyzett nodded thoughtfully. "Once, it was a wizard's helper. Now it's found its own way, becoming the garden's artist. I suppose that's a kind of growth too."
"We should get going," called Xenophilius, holding Luna's Hogwarts letter.
"Merlin's beard! This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor must be off his rocker. Why is there such a ridiculous list of books—all by Gilderoy Lockhart?"
"The new professor can't possibly be just a fan, right? That's not how you teach Defense Against the Dark Arts! Students need real textbooks, not just one author's collection!"
"Wait a minute!" Suddenly, he frowned, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Something's not right… Could that old sweet be targeting Hogwarts?"
"Find a Lockhart fanatic, turn the students into fans, then control Gilderoy Lockhart himself… Wouldn't that put Hogwarts in his hands? That's terrifying! I have to expose this scheme!"
In just a few excited sentences, Xenophilius had already decided the topic for his next magazine issue.
Now that he had readers from other countries, he could share his theories with an even wider magical audience.
…
On the way to Diagon Alley, Xenophilius continued spinning his conspiracy, piling up ever more "evidence."
"One, two, three… Seven whole Gilderoy Lockhart books, at five Galleons each!"
"I can hardly believe it. If all those Galleons end up in that old sweet's pocket, who knows what dreadful things he'll do…"
"He'll use the money to tighten his grip on Gringotts, mark my words! He's already murdered plenty of goblins—this is just the next step in his plot to seize Gringotts itself…"
Wyzett noticed that Diagon Alley was especially crowded today, particularly with middle-aged witches. Each one clutched a book, their titles as varied as they were flamboyant:
Break with a Banshee
Gadding with Ghouls
Voyages with Vampires
Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests
…
All of them, of course, by Gilderoy Lockhart.
Wyzett recalled seeing banners hung up in Diagon Alley before—Gilderoy Lockhart was holding an autobiography signing event. Today must be the day.
Sure enough, as they passed Flourish and Blotts, they spotted the staff busily decorating the shop, hanging streamers and posters, all bearing the image of a golden-haired, blue-eyed man.
"Mr. Bassat, are you sure you're ready? Should I bring more stock? Just look at the street—" Gilderoy Lockhart waved grandly. "They're all my fans!"
With that, the blond, blue-eyed man flashed a dazzling smile, revealing exactly eight teeth, white as sea salt.
Mr. Bassat stood inside the shop. "We're fully prepared, of course. Flourish and Blotts is the largest magical bookstore in England—you can rest easy."
"Absolutely! And I just love your second-floor salon," Gilderoy Lockhart gushed. "It's amazing how you can gather so many witches and wizards together!"
"Although, using ghosts as hosts is a little… you know? Maybe you should try some veela next time! Imagine them serving refreshments to the guests—now that would liven things up…"
"Hmm… that does sound…" Bassat murmured, not looking particularly enthusiastic.
Just then, he caught sight of Wyzett in the crowd and waved him over.
Wyzett and his companions approached, nodding in greeting. "Good afternoon, Mr. Bassat!"
Xenophilius stepped forward, shaking Bassat's hand. "Thank you for all your help!"
Gilderoy Lockhart's eyes sparkled with curiosity, eager to change the subject. "Mr. Bassat, are these your special guests? May I be introduced?"
Bassat obliged. "That book you were asking about earlier—Shadows of Darkness in the Fortress! The Wizard's Last Dance!—was written by these fine folks."
"Oh, so you're the author?" Gilderoy Lockhart extended a hand to Xenophilius. "We must have a lot in common! I've read your book—absolutely splendid!"
"Ah! Where are my manners? I'm Gilderoy Lockhart! I'm here for more than just a signing today—I have an even bigger announcement! Any guesses?"
"Oh… hello, Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart." Xenophilius nodded, his tone perfectly flat. "I… haven't the faintest idea."
Though the two shook hands, Xenophilius's eyes never left Lockhart, brimming with suspicion…
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