Hogwarts’ White Lord

"How do you feel, Ivan?"

Hermione saw Ivan's happy expression and knew he had found a suitable wand, so she was very happy for him.

Ambrosius family, eternal bloodline, descendant of Merlin...

These titles were too distant for Hermione.

She only knew that Ivan was the first young wizard she met and her friend.

"Very good."

Ivan shared his feelings with Hermione. He did not look down on the young witch because of his identity as a descendant of Merlin. He smiled and looked at Ollivander: "Sir, thank you for selecting this wand for me."

"I think my father would be honored by your praise!"

"But ...I'm sorry to tell you that this wand is not the most suitable for you either."

Ollivander extended his hand and motioned for Ivan to hand him the wand: "Like the elm wand earlier, it is too deferential in front of you."

Flattering ministers are not beneficial, and servile servants are even less so.

"What a formidable talent."

Setting down the wand, Ollivander regarded Ivan with great emotion, his eyes filled with astonishment. "Garrick?"

"Sorry, Minerva, I lost my composure."

Ollivander's magical skills are not profound; even within the British wizarding world, he is not considered a master.

In today's wizarding world, if wizards were ranked, the top ones would be great wizards like Dumbledore and Voldemort.

Compared with other wizards, it is not an exaggeration to say that the likes of Dumbledore and Voldemort are another kind of creature.

Facing these two, numbers become meaningless.

Even if confronted by dozens or even hundreds of powerful wizards at the same time, the two could easily defeat them.

Below them are magic masters like McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape.

Most of them possess extremely high magic attainments in a specific field and can handle multiple opponents in battle.

They are among the best in the wizarding world.

Ollivander can be considered a master of wand-making.

However, in terms of magical prowess, he has not reached the level of Professor McGonagall and can only be regarded as an elite wizard.

The categories of young wizards, senior wizards, adult wizards, and elite wizards do not have a strict division; the only differences are how much magic they have mastered and whether they possess a special skill.

As for Ivan...

Ollivander can only describe him in one sentence: 'a natural born wizard.'

It is known that Voldemort managed to reach Dumbledore's level, but only after undergoing several dark magic transformations and even sacrificing his handsome appearance in the process.

And Ivan?

He was just about to enter Hogwarts and already possessed the magical talent that Voldemort sought at all costs.

Next, Ollivander selected more than 20 wands that he believed were extremely powerful.

Unfortunately, without exception, these wands were not very suitable for Ivan.

"It's really distressing," Ollivander muttered as he rubbed his somewhat weary eyebrows. "How long has it been since I met such a discerning customer?"

At the same time, Ollivander felt a little vindicated internally.

It turns out that it wasn't just him who faced challenges; his father had struggled just as much!

Everything is relative, Ollivander realized, and this thought suddenly made him feel much better.

His thoughts became clearer and his mood improved significantly.

Ollivander was ready for a long battle. He was actually thrilled to have such a particular customer!

"Mr. Ollivander?" Ivan noticed Ollivander's eyes spark with determination and quickly interjected: "If you really can't find the right one, this oak wand is quite good."

Among the many wands, the one made from oak wood with a dragon heartstring core had the highest compatibility with him.

In terms of performance, it made spell casting 25 times smoother.

With his potent magical ability, Ivan felt confident that he could successfully perform almost all known magic with this wand.

After dozens of unsuccessful attempts, Ollivander's enthusiasm was fully ignited.

Thus, Ollivander began frantically searching through boxes and cabinets, continually swapping out wands for Ivan to try.

From his father, to his grandfather, to his great-grandfather...

In half an hour, Ivan felt as if he had swiftly journeyed through the lineage of Ollivander's ancestors.

"No, no!"

"There must be more, there must be more!"

"Wait, little Ivan, just a little longer."

Ollivander was in and out countless times, now sweating profusely.

Ivan observed the pile of wand boxes to the side.

His only thought now was hoping that Ollivander wouldn't collapse from exhaustion.

Ivan was genuinely concerned that he might have to implore him not to overdo it.

'What's the big deal?'

Ivan smiled bitterly to himself, then glanced at Hermione beside him. The young witch had started to become accustomed to his unusualness.

"I remember it was placed near here…"

Ollivander seemed to be in a trance. He cherished this kind of discerning guests the most.

Because the more particular the young wizard was, the more it validated his expertise.

And Ivan, even by the standards of the Ollivander family records, was exceptionally discerning and had broken their ancestral record for the longest time taken to choose a wand.

"Ah! Found it!"

Suddenly, Ollivander unearthed a box from a corner. He excitedly returned to the counter and carefully slid the wand within the box toward Ivan: "Come on, try this."

"Hmm?"

Ivan opened the box and examined the wand inside.

The wand resembled a piece of charcoal left after burning, with pits and bumps on its surface. If Ollivander hadn't presented it himself, Ivan might not have recognized it as a wand.

"This wand..."

Hermione felt that Ollivander was joking. This didn't look like a wand at all; it appeared to be just a piece of burnt wood.

Ivan said nothing but silently took the wand out of the box.

For some reason, the moment he held the wand, Ivan heard the cry of an unknown bird, which was very pleasant and melodious, akin to a song.

Crack, crack.

The next moment, golden lines resembling lava appeared on the wand, and the surface began to crack, with black wood chips falling away.

Chi!!

Ivan held the wand upright in front of him, watching as flames shot out from the tip. They transformed into phoenixes with gorgeous tails, circling around Ivan.

"Perfect, too perfect!"

Ollivander was overwhelmed with excitement upon witnessing this scene.

The old man had disheveled hair and looked like an old beggar who had just crawled out of a garbage dump.

But on that dirty face, a pair of extremely bright eyes silently told of his joy.

This is the victory of the Ollivander family!

It was proof that he, Garrick Ollivander, had defeated the picky Ambrosius after a thousand years!