Tyler raised the elder wand above his head and spoke the spell clearly. "Reparo!"
A clean ray of light shot from the wand's tip. In the next instant, the shattered pieces of the glass vase on the counter and the splintered remains of the wand boxes behind it all began to move as if time had reversed.
Glass fragments slid back together, seams vanishing until the vase stood whole once more. The scattered chips of wood flew into place as well, reshaping themselves into narrow wand boxes that settled neatly back on the shelves behind the counter.
"Oh, a perfect Mending Charm," Mr. Ollivander said, his pale eyes shining with delight. "It seems this wand has recognized you. You must understand, other wizards have never been able to cast properly with it."
He circled Tyler with a look of open fascination, his long fingers twitching as though he wanted to take notes. "Wonderful. Truly wonderful. I never expected you to be accepted by this wand, child. It seems you must be an extraordinary wizard indeed."
"Only an extraordinary wizard could earn the approval of this elder wand," Ollivander continued, still smiling. "Congratulations, my boy. This wand is yours now, and I hope you use it well."
"Yes, sir. It is a very good wand," Tyler said, looking down at the black wand in his hand. It carried his magic perfectly, without resistance or waste, and it seemed able to draw out the force inside him to its fullest extent. "How many Galleons?"
"Thirty Galleons, child," Ollivander said, blinking pleasantly.
"Thirty Galleons?" Tyler looked up at him at once. "Don't you think that's a little expensive, Mr. Ollivander? This is a wand no other wizard can use. For you, it's been sitting here doing nothing."
"Now that I'm the only one who can use it, I think seven Galleons would be more than enough," Tyler said calmly. The purchasing power of Galleons was considerable, and thirty Galleons for a wand was already far above the usual price.
It was not that Tyler lacked money. His parents had left him enough to live comfortably, and he had no problem paying for what he needed. Still, having money and letting himself be overcharged were two different things, and he had no intention of acting like a fool just because Ollivander had found an opportunity.
In the end, a businessman was still a businessman. Even a family that had been making wands for more than two thousand years did not forget how to raise a price when a rare customer appeared.
"Oh, child, you must understand," Ollivander said, raising one finger as if lecturing a classroom. "This is the final wand my grandfather ever made. It is a piece of history, practically an antique, and thirty Galleons is not expensive at all."
He paused, then gave Tyler a generous-looking smile. "However, since you are a young wizard about to attend Hogwarts this year, I can make it cheaper. How does twenty-five Galleons sound?"
"It still sounds expensive," Tyler replied without hesitation. "I think eight Galleons is very fair."
Ollivander's smile twitched. Tyler simply lifted his face and stared at him with those clear pale-blue eyes, his expression quiet and almost painfully innocent.
"Mr. Ollivander, I'm only a young wizard whose parents have passed away," Tyler said softly. "I live on the small inheritance they left me."
Those eyes were beautiful enough to be unfair. They were pure, bright, and without the slightest trace of malice on the surface, as though no selfish thought had ever passed behind them. When they fixed on someone like that, refusing became oddly difficult.
"All right, all right," Ollivander finally said, throwing up his hands in defeat. "What beautiful eyes. You win, child. Ten Galleons, and you may take the wand."
He sighed as though he had suffered a terrible loss. "You must know, that is practically cost price. These days, even a single unicorn hair can cost ten Galleons."
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander," Tyler said happily.
He paid the ten Galleons without further argument. Bringing the price down from thirty to ten already satisfied him, and he had no need to push harder over a wand that suited him so perfectly.
"Goodbye, Mr. Ollivander," Tyler said as he turned toward the door. "And may business prosper."
He waved once and left the wand shop. Behind him, Ollivander stood among the towering shelves, still watching the door with a thoughtful expression.
"Oh," the old wandmaker murmured. "What an incredible child."
Outside Ollivanders, Timo was already waiting with several neatly packed purchases. The house-elf stood beside the bags with his ears lifted, looking so proud of himself that anyone would have thought he had conquered half of Diagon Alley instead of merely completing a shopping list.
"Young master, Timo has bought everything," Timo said at once. His thin chest puffed out slightly, though he still kept his head bowed in respect.
"Thank you, Timo. You're very capable," Tyler praised.
"Oh!" Timo clutched his chest, his huge eyes instantly shining. "Young master praised Timo. Young master praised Timo. Timo is so happy!"
The house-elf looked excited enough to faint on the cobblestones. Tyler ignored the dramatic display with practiced ease, though he had to admit that house-elves truly were the best helpers a wizard could have.
"Enough. Now that everything has been bought, take these things home first," Tyler said. His gaze drifted briefly toward the white building at the far end of the alley. "I still have something to handle."
"Yes, young master," Timo answered immediately.
He gathered the purchases in his thin arms. With a sharp crack, he vanished from Diagon Alley through house-elf Apparition, taking the robes, books, cauldron, and other supplies with him.
Tyler stood alone among the morning crowd. His business with school supplies was done, and now it was time for the real reason he had come to Diagon Alley today.
The Philosopher's Stone was still lying inside a Gringotts vault. Since it was there, he had to get it.
"Harry Potter should arrive soon," Tyler murmured. "I might as well meet the protagonist first."
He turned away from the main street and walked into a quieter corner of Diagon Alley. The space was narrow and shadowed, tucked between buildings where no wizard was likely to pass unless they were deliberately looking for trouble.
From the pouch at his waist, Tyler took out the adult black robe he had bought at Madam Malkin's. The pouch was made from mokeskin, and its inside had been expanded with an Undetectable Extension Charm. From the outside, it was no bigger than his palm, but it could hold a shocking amount of space.
The Undetectable Extension Charm was regulated by the Ministry of Magic and forbidden for casual private use. But this was the wizarding world, and rules only mattered when someone could catch you breaking them.
The strong made the rules, and the weak obeyed them. As long as one was strong enough and careful enough, very few people could truly restrain them.
Tyler slipped into the adult robe. Since it had been made for a grown man, the hem dragged across the ground at first, but his body soon began to change.
His original height of around five feet three stretched upward. Bone, muscle, and posture adjusted smoothly, and within moments, the young boy had become a man over six feet tall.
Tyler Blake disappeared. In his place stood a thin middle-aged man with flaxen hair, a gloomy face, and an air that made others instinctively unwilling to approach.
This was human transfiguration, a difficult and highly advanced branch of Transfiguration. Grindelwald himself had once been famous for his mastery of such methods, able to disguise himself with extraordinary skill.
Tyler's ability, however, was not something he had learned step by step from books. It had come naturally to him.
In the wizarding world, many skills could be mastered through study, practice, and talent. Spells, potions, charms, and dueling techniques all followed that path. Some abilities, however, were inherited or born with the wizard.
Parseltongue was one example. Metamorphmagus abilities were another, as were certain rare gifts tied to blood, transformation, or magical instinct. No amount of ordinary studying could grant them to someone who did not possess the talent in the first place.
Tyler was certain that the Blake family had no great wizards among its known ancestors. This special ability had not come from any impressive bloodline, at least not one he could find. Perhaps it was simply one of the advantages that came with transmigration.
"I forgot to buy shoes," Tyler muttered.
He looked down at his feet and saw that his child-sized shoes had been stretched badly out of shape. His now much larger feet were squeezed inside them, and the discomfort was immediate and obvious.
"Engorgio."
Tyler pointed his wand at the shoes and cast the Enlargement Charm. The spell quickly increased their size, though making a pair of shoes fit properly required far more control than simply making them bigger.
The leather shifted and reshaped around his feet until the pressure finally eased. Tyler lowered his wand and gave one foot a slight turn, testing the fit. "That's better."