Chapter 21 — The Circular Wand, Giving the Professor a Little Shock
Half an hour later, Dumbledore left the Great Hall from the teacher's table.
Siron watched him, and his mind instinctively drifted to that completely illogical Repair Charm. Unfortunately, he didn't notice any information about wands on Dumbledore himself.
Perhaps he hadn't brought it with him, or maybe the old wand was just unusually special.
Snape followed soon after, then Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall…
At this point, Siron suddenly stood up.
"Siron, what's wrong?" Harry and Ron, standing nearby, were startled.
"Nothing, I just remembered something," Siron said casually, then turned and ran toward the exit of the Great Hall.
"What's he doing?" Ron asked Harry, confused.
"How should I know?" Harry replied.
"Really… bizarre," Ron muttered, stuffing a chicken drumstick into his mouth. He hadn't even finished eating.
Meanwhile, Siron quickened his pace as he ran out of the Great Hall, catching up to Professor McGonagall before she climbed the stairs.
"Ollivander?" McGonagall looked at Siron with some surprise. "Do you need something from me? You're not thinking of changing dormitories again, are you?"
"No," Siron shook his head. After a moment's hesitation, he added, "Sorry, Professor McGonagall, this might sound a little rude, but could you give me a few strands of your hair?"
"My hair?" McGonagall instinctively frowned.
This request was well beyond being merely rude—it was actually quite outrageous. A witch or wizard with a short temper might even pull out their wand on the spot.
In the wizarding world, a single strand of hair could be used for many things—most commonly for Polyjuice Potion, or various dark curses and black magic.
"What do you intend to do with it?" Perhaps because of Siron's identity—or maybe because of his age—McGonagall didn't outright refuse.
"For a wand," Siron said.
"A wand?"
"Yes, more precisely, the wand core."
"…."
McGonagall fell silent for a long time.
How should she put it… this was the first time she had heard such an absurd request.
Yet, up to this point, she still hadn't refused.
"Come to my office, Ollivander, if you've finished eating," she said.
"Of course," Siron replied.
McGonagall turned and began walking up the stairs, with Siron following closely behind.
The bottom staircase started to rotate upward, quickly carrying them to the second-floor corridor. But it didn't stop there—the stairs continued twisting upward, layer by layer, and Siron barely had to walk before he found himself transported to the eighth floor.
"Keep up, what are you thinking about?" McGonagall reminded him, bringing him back to attention.
"These stairs…" Siron said. "Why do they wander around like this after you go up? Several times I almost made it to class, and if I wasn't careful, I'd get sent back to the eighth floor."
"They were the same when I was a student," McGonagall said. "We're here."
She pushed open a door at the end of the corridor and stepped inside.
Professor McGonagall's office reflected her personality—neat, clean, with no unnecessary decoration.
A spacious desk sat in the center, neatly organized with student assignments, ink, and quills. A bookshelf by the fireplace held an array of books and magazines related to Transfiguration.
"So, Ollivander," McGonagall said, walking behind the desk and looking up at Siron.
"I don't want to question your knowledge of wandmaking, but I've never heard of a wizard's hair being used for a wand core."
"This is just an idea I had," Siron explained. "Inspired by the French Delacour family."
"Delacour?" McGonagall asked. "Apolline Delacour?"
"Exactly, a wizarding family with Veela blood," Siron said. "Three years ago, my grandfather made a special wand for the Delacour family, with the core being a strand of Veela hair.
"According to Fantastic Beasts, a Veela without transformation abilities is almost identical to a wizard in body.
"If Veela hair can make a wand, why not a wizard's?"
McGonagall looked at the sparkling-eyed Siron. She hesitated for a moment before softening her tone.
"But as far as I know, no one has ever made a wand core from a wizard's hair, not even your grandfather."
She wanted to dissuade Siron, to make him give up this wild idea.
But Siron didn't seem to care.
"That was before. It doesn't mean I can't do it. I can show you the wand I made."
Just as McGonagall was about to respond, Siron pulled out… a bamboo ring?
McGonagall wasn't sure what it was.
Though he called it a wand, how could a wand possibly be circular?
"African arrow bamboo, core is a Brain of a Five-Legged Creature, thirteen inches."
McGonagall twitched at the corner of her eye.
This bamboo ring was a wand?
It didn't even have a tip.
Seeing McGonagall's disbelief, Siron casually flicked his wrist.
"Lumos!"
Immediately, the bamboo section above glowed with a white light.
McGonagall's eyes widened, but she didn't expect this was just the beginning.
The next second, the left and right bamboo segments lit up as well.
Now McGonagall could no longer sit still. She stood abruptly, knocking over the ink bottle on the desk in the process…
"Three spells…"
It had been a long time since McGonagall had lost her composure like this, but a single wand casting three spells simultaneously was simply unfathomable, even challenging her understanding of magic.
"As you can see," Siron said, "each segment of the African arrow bamboo is independent, normally unsuitable for a standard-length wand. But by chance, I discovered that the brain of a Five-Legged Creature can connect them in another form, like this."
"Oh, and it can be used like this too." Siron flicked his wrist again.
"Reparo!"
The ink spilled from the knocked-over bottle returned to the container, and the bottle itself stood upright.
Looking at the bamboo ring again, only two glowing spots remained.
"So this wand can cast three different spells?" McGonagall asked, even more astonished. She momentarily forgot that Siron had said "brain of a Five-Legged Creature," not some more plausible neural tissue.
"Theoretically, yes," Siron said.
"Theoretically?"
"It requires very precise control of magical power," Siron shrugged. "Honestly, right now I can only use Lumos and Reparo at the same time. Anything more complicated, and I can't manage it yet."
Hearing this, McGonagall quickly regained her composure.
Indeed, casting three different spells simultaneously couldn't possibly be easy.
And thinking carefully, the three light orbs just now weren't even normal in size. When the side ones lit up, the middle one shrank slightly.
Even so, it was enough to amaze anyone. Siron was only a first-year—he had tremendous potential.
Or… what if Dumbledore were holding this wand…
(End of Chapter)
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