"Ah... buying a wand at this time of year... it must be a replacement, right?"
As soon as the shop door chimed open, a soft, reedy voice drifted into Lyla's ears.
"Oh... cypress wood, unicorn hair core, ten and a quarter inches..."
Mr. Ollivander, the ancient wandmaker, stepped out from behind a towering stack of narrow boxes. He wasn't looking at Mr. Lupin's face, but rather at the wand strapped to his side, his own face breaking into a nostalgic smile.
"So, Mr. Lupin," he murmured, clearly recognizing the wizard by his wand alone. "What brings you to my shop today?"
"I am here to purchase a new wand for Miss Lyla Hamilton," Mr. Lupin replied gently. He subtly stepped aside, revealing Lyla hiding in his shadow.
"Ah... Miss Hamilton..." Mr. Ollivander mumbled, his pale eyes dropping immediately to the broken splinters in Lyla's hands.
"You're not a Hogwarts student, are you?" he concluded instantly.
Then, to Lyla's slight surprise, he elaborated, "Every Hogwarts student buys their wand from me. And I am completely unfamiliar with the make of yours."
"Oh, wait... you are a Durmstrang student, aren't you?"
Mr. Ollivander's deduction made Mr. Lupin instinctively glance at Lyla, their eyes meeting in shared surprise. Lyla gasped softly, shrinking back even further under her hood.
"Hehe," Mr. Ollivander chuckled, seemingly quite pleased to have startled them. "Durmstrang students almost exclusively purchase their wands from Mykew Gregorovitch."
"His creations are all very distinctive," the old wandmaker noted, a professional smile appearing on his face. "Admirable works of art, truly..."
Muttering to himself, he casually waved his own wand, pulling a slender box from a mountain of inventory.
"How about this one?" he offered. "Holly wood, unicorn hair core..."
He was holding it out when he suddenly froze, his pale eyes narrowing. "Oh... wait just a moment."
"Miss Hamilton has Veela blood, doesn't she?" He had caught a glimpse of Lyla's pointed ears and silvery blonde hair when she shifted beneath her hood.
"Mm... mm..." Lyla squeaked a faint, mosquito-like sound of confirmation as she yanked her hood down tighter.
"In that case..." Mr. Ollivander slowly lowered the holly wand. "Perhaps your replacement will take a while."
"Why is that?" Mr. Lupin asked, a little curious.
"Because a witch with Veela blood will find a wand with a Veela hair core far more comfortable and responsive to use," Mr. Ollivander explained with a polite smile. "And I do not stock such temperamental cores here. I will need some time to procure the hair and craft it."
"Then... roughly how long will that take?" Mr. Lupin asked on Lyla's behalf, sensing her anxiety.
"Within the week," Mr. Ollivander decided, flicking his wand to summon a quill and a piece of parchment.
"Please write your address here." He nodded gently to Lyla. "I will send an owl when the wand is finished."
"..." Lyla pursed her lips, carefully took the quill, and scribbled down the address of the Leaky Cauldron.
"Also, please leave your broken wand behind," Mr. Ollivander requested. "I need to study the old craftsmanship to ensure your new wand is a perfect match."
"Wait... wait..." Lyla asked in a low voice, clutching the broken wood. "This wand... can it be repaired?"
"Hmm... almost certainly not." Mr. Ollivander took the shattered pieces and examined them closely. "The core and the wood are both catastrophically damaged."
"Repairing it would be more difficult than simply forging a new one," he said, his brow furrowing in concern. "How exactly did your wand end up in such a violent state?"
"Just ordinary spellcasting, it seems..." he trailed off, suddenly catching the tense atmosphere. He shook his head. "I apologize. I spoke out of turn."
"No... it's fine..." Lyla pursed her lips, carefully shrinking back behind Mr. Lupin's tall frame.
This Mr. Ollivander was truly perceptive. At the very least, his intuition regarding wands was terrifyingly sharp.
Click. Ding-a-ling.
Just as Mr. Lupin and Lyla were about to leave, the door to the dusty wand shop swung open again.
This time, an eccentric middle-aged man walked in, followed by a young girl with straggly, dirty-blonde hair and a pair of protuberant, silvery eyes. She seemed a little dazed, but her gaze was surprisingly piercing.
"Mr. Lupin?" The middle-aged man was startled to see him. When he noticed the hooded Lyla hiding behind Lupin's robes, his expression turned to utter shock.
"You have a child?!" he blurted out.
"No... Mr. Lovegood, this is Miss Lyla Hamilton." Mr. Lupin quickly shook his head to dispel the misunderstanding. "She is my... friend?"
Frie... friend? Not just Mr. Lovegood, but even Lyla herself was momentarily stunned.
Am I actually friends with Mr. Lupin? Lyla instinctively felt a flutter of happiness in her chest. This seemed to be the first friend she had ever made.
"This is Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood," Mr. Lupin said, nodding gently to Lyla. "He is the editor-in-chief of The Quibbler magazine."
Then, as if remembering something crucial, Lupin leaned in and lowered his voice. "He's a bit... well... eccentric."
Eccentric? Lyla wanted to say that compared to Mr. Lovegood, the girl following him seemed even stranger.
At some point, the girl had already drifted over to Mr. Ollivander's counter. Her silvery eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the shattered pieces of Lyla's old wand.
"Luna!" Mr. Lovegood noticed his daughter's wandering attention. He pursed his lips and called out softly, "Come and say hello to Mr. Lupin and..."
"Miss Hamilton," Mr. Lupin supplied at the perfect moment.
"That's right, come say hello to Miss Hamilton," Xenophilius urged. "She is an older student..."
"Ah..." Lyla was about to explain her actual position when Luna gently shook her head.
"Miss Hamilton is not a student," Luna said in a dreamy, sing-song voice.
"Uh..." Everyone else in the shop was momentarily stunned into silence.
"She's not wearing a Hogwarts uniform... and..." Luna paused, her pale eyes glinting in the dusty light. "She doesn't smell like Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts... smell?" Mr. Lupin instinctively twitched his nose, sniffing the air.
In front of him, Xenophilius Lovegood was already lifting his own sleeve to take a deep whiff. "Hogwarts smell?"
"It really does seem to have a distinct scent..." Xenophilius mumbled. He took a step toward Lyla, leaning in. "Miss Hamilton, may I smell your—"
"Eek!" Lyla shrieked, darting firmly behind Mr. Lupin's back.
Mr. Lupin was wrong! This Mr. Lovegood was more than just eccentric; he was a complete weirdo!
"Ah... Mr. Lovegood... are you here to purchase a wand?" Mr. Ollivander suddenly spoke up, loudly interrupting Xenophilius's highly inappropriate behavior.
"Ah, yes, quite right." Xenophilius turned to the counter, entirely unfazed. "We are here to buy a wand for my Luna."
"Has Miss Lovegood already turned eleven?" Mr. Lupin asked, a little surprised.
"Mm," Xenophilius nodded sagely. "She turned eleven exactly when she was supposed to."
"..."
Lyla pursed her lips. Sometimes she genuinely didn't understand how British wizards communicated.
But wait... Lyla suddenly realized. If this girl was eleven, then she would be starting Hogwarts in the autumn term. Didn't that mean this strange girl was going to be her student?!
Lyla instinctively felt a wave of agonizing awkwardness. For a professor to be seen cowering behind another adult by her future student... wasn't that just too embarrassing?
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