Ollivander's Wand Shop.
Sherlock tried wand after wand, yet none seemed suitable for him.
Faced with this situation, Ollivander showed not a trace of impatience.
On the contrary, he became increasingly excited.
Sherlock said nothing, just began cooperating passively with the shopkeeper's selections, maintaining an appearance of great patience.
Mr. and Mrs. Holmes exchanged glances with each other.
The main issue was that neither understood what kind of wand would be most suitable in Ollivander's mind.
In their view, Sherlock had barely grasped each wand—let alone wave it, he hadn't even had time to lift it—before this peculiar old man snatched it away.
This situation had already occurred several times.
Finally, Mrs. Holmes couldn't help but speak up, quietly suggesting to her husband, "Tarquin, perhaps we should look elsewhere?"
Mr. Holmes was also somewhat hesitant: "But I heard this is the only shop of its kind..."
"Ha?"
Unexpectedly, Ollivander's hearing was exceptionally keen. Though his attention had been focused on Sherlock the entire time, he now looked up:
"Is this lady questioning the Ollivander family?"
Under his sharp gaze, Mrs. Holmes felt somewhat nervous: "No, I was just..."
"No need for such trouble. The Ollivander family has been crafting wands since 382 BC. No matter how particular a customer might be, they can always find a suitable wand here."
"Including the previous customer who left?" Sherlock suddenly interjected.
Ollivander was momentarily stunned, then laughed aloud. "What a perceptive young wizard indeed—yes, there was indeed a particular customer earlier, quite a famous figure, ha-ha..."
At this point, Ollivander seemed to realize something and changed the subject:
"Rather than saying wizards choose wands, it's actually the wands that choose their wizards!
Remember, no one leaves Ollivander's disappointed. Oh!"
At this, he slapped his forehead and walked to the shelf from which goods had earlier flown out, retrieving a plain-looking black wand from the corner.
"Beechwood and serpent nerve, twelve inches, resilient and flexible. Try it."
Sherlock naturally noticed Ollivander's topic change.
He didn't ask further questions but accepted the wand as suggested.
The moment he grasped this wand, his heart couldn't help but shiver.
A mysterious, indescribable feeling suddenly appeared, as if something had connected him to this wand in his hand.
He waved it gently, and a white smoke ring appeared, drifting slowly away.
Not only that, but he seemed to hear the sound of ship horns and sailors' laughter nearby.
It was as if he had achieved some resonance with the wand.
'How marvelous!'
Even without understanding magic, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes could see this was a wand suitable for Sherlock.
"Did this wand choose me?"
When Ollivander handed over the wand in its box, Sherlock asked.
"Yes, the wand chooses the wizard—that's the correct answer."
Having finally selected a wand for Sherlock, this particular customer, Ollivander appeared quite pleased and explained further:
"For the true match of a beechwood wand, if they're already an adult, they must be reasonable and experienced.
If they're a young person..."
Ollivander glanced at Sherlock, revealing a meaningful expression: "Then it represents wisdom beyond their years."
'Wisdom beyond his years?' Sherlock pondered thoughtfully.
At this time, Mrs. Holmes also stepped forward to inquire about the self-measuring tape.
However, she received the answer that non-wizards couldn't use it.
This inevitably left her somewhat disappointed.
After paying 8 Galleons, Mr. Ollivander bowed and escorted them out of the shop.
"Two particular customers in one day—this year's Hogwarts is sure to be lively..."
Watching the family of three's retreating figures, he murmured to himself.
After purchasing the wand, Sherlock and his parents finally concluded their shopping trip in Diagon Alley for the day.
With careful spending, the items on the school list cost nearly 80 Galleons in total.
Including the additional books purchased, Sherlock had less than 20 Galleons remaining.
Mrs. Holmes felt that restricting magical currency exchange was discrimination against non-wizard families like theirs by the magical world, and she brooded over this for quite a while.
However, under Mr. Holmes's persuasion, she eventually abandoned the idea of filing a complaint, and the family successfully returned from Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron.
Just as they were preparing to drive home, Sherlock paused.
He noticed an adult couple with a young girl wandering between the bookstore and record shop.
With just one glance, Sherlock determined this was a married couple with their daughter, and their purpose was the same as theirs had been not long ago.
Sherlock's action caught the attention of Mr. and Mrs. Holmes.
Following his gaze, they naturally saw the family of three wandering between the bookstore and record shop.
The husband and wife were neatly dressed and refined in appearance.
The little girl had thick brown curly hair and was chattering about something.
Though they lacked Sherlock's observational and analytical abilities, it wasn't difficult to guess that they too were looking for the Leaky Cauldron.
Mrs. Holmes was a warm-hearted person.
Thinking of their own recent experience, she immediately pulled her husband forward.
Clearly, she intended to help.
Sherlock understood this clearly.
With that young witch present, this family would certainly be able to find the Leaky Cauldron eventually.
But he hadn't expected that just because he had looked once more in the crowd, his mother would actively get involved.
Seeing that his parents had already struck up a conversation with this family, he could only join them.
"Indeed! You're also looking for Diagon Alley, aren't you?"
Today's experiences had filled Mrs. Holmes with confidence, and she quickly assumed the dominant role in the conversation with the authority of someone "who had been there":
"Oh, I bet you the goblins' attitude at the bank is absolutely terrible, just like Aunt Susan's apple pie next door."
"Mary mother of God, they only gave us an exchange limit of 128 Galleons! Refusing to make money—how foolish!"
"If I see them again, I swear I'll kick their backsides with my boots."
Mrs. Holmes's words quickly closed the distance between them.
After mutual introductions revealed that the couple named Granger were also non-wizards like themselves, she excitedly pulled Sherlock forward:
"Sherlock, this is Miss Hermione Granger, also a new student at Hogwarts. You can look out for each other."