NOTE: If you're a new reader feel free to continue, but if you are not let me inform you to read the ANNOUNCEMENT first.
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Ollivanders was arguably the oldest building in Diagon Alley, even more ancient than Gringotts, with its earliest traces dating back to the fourth century BC (382 BC).
Narcissa had been waiting in the shop for some time, with a trace of impatience upon her proud face.
"Draco, come here," Narcissa called. The shop was dim, and Draco surveyed the narrow establishment, which was full of dust and silence.
Perhaps there was something else: a small brown-haired girl sitting on a bench in the corner with her back to him, appearing bored, as though she were examining the shop.
It seemed Ollivanders was doing good business today.
"Good afternoon." After a loud clicking sound, a white-haired elderly man stood before them. He possessed a pair of large, pale eyes and spoke with a soft voice.
This was Ollivander, a man Draco could not underestimate, because the Dark Lord in his memories regarded him with great importance.
Draco's intuition told him that, besides Florean Fortescue from the ice cream parlor, this wandmaker was a more crucial source of information about the Elder Wand that could not be overlooked.
Naturally, with his mother present, he had to diligently act the part of a well-behaved child and it was impossible for him to ask any peculiar questions. Ollivander himself would not casually reveal secrets to a young boy he met for the first time.
Ollivander's silver eyes fixed upon Draco, and he murmured softly, "Oh, another Malfoy has come to me for a wand... Draco Malfoy... Your hair is platinum blond like your father's..."
He leaned forward, tilting his head. "Ah, the eyes are grey as well... Eighteen inches, with a dragon heartstring core and elm wood. A favorite among pure-blood families. A very powerful, very powerful wand."
He simply walked out from behind the counter, approached Draco quietly, and remarked to himself, "I heard he also commissioned a silver serpent head to be mounted on the wand... I imagine it should be quite exquisite, correct?"
Draco nodded cautiously, noting that Ollivander's cloudy eyes seemed to reveal a hint of disapproval.
"As for Mrs. Malfoy," Ollivander gestured toward Narcissa behind Draco, "fourteen inches, finest redwood, unicorn tail hair. An admirable wand that served well, for a wise witch." He seemed lost in some recollection, and said with appreciation, "Such fine redwood is difficult to find these days."
Narcissa gave him a slight smile. "Rarity increases value. Quality wand materials are naturally priceless. That is why I would like you to find the finest possible wand for my son. Price is not an issue."
"Mrs. Malfoy, I always say that wizards favor certain wands, but that is not quite accurate. To be precise, it is the wand that chooses the wizard," said Ollivander.
"Every Ollivander wand contains exceptionally powerful magical substances. They possess their own consciousness. This is the essence of it. If we arbitrarily select a wand for your son that appears magnificent and rare, but it originally belonged to another wizard, I fear the effectiveness of his spells will be greatly diminished." At this moment, Ollivander was drawing closer and closer to Draco, with his nose nearly touching Draco's face.
Draco heard Narcissa emit a disapproving sound from behind him, as though she was dissatisfied with such an explanation.
"Very well, Mr. Malfoy, come here, let me see." Ollivander did not acknowledge Narcissa's reaction. He had probably served many willful and demanding customers like her.
He briskly retrieved a measuring tape from the table and asked Draco, "Which arm do you use for your wand?"
"Right hand," Draco said briefly.
"Raise your arm." It would be more accurate to say that Ollivander's enchanted tape measure was moving independently rather than him skillfully maneuvering it across Draco's body.
Ollivander was moving back and forth before the shelves, attempting to select some long boxes from among the thousands of long, narrow boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling. His movements were so agile one could not tell he was an elderly man.
"Young Mr. Malfoy, try this one: blackthorn wood and dragon heartstring, nine inches long." He held out a wand with both hands and spoke solemnly. Draco already knew this was not his wand. He picked it up and waved it halfheartedly.
Sure enough, there was no response.
"Try this one: rowan wood, dragon heartstring core, eleven inches." Ollivander held out another wand with considerable care.
Draco waved it. The wand was silent, lifeless.
Next, Draco tried wands made of maple, spruce, and vine wood. Ollivander was a peculiar old man. Unlike ordinary shopkeepers eager to make a profit, his research on wands was obviously more important than earning gold. He was not troubled by the effort.
In fact, the more Draco tried, the more excited Ollivander became. He paced back and forth before the thousands of narrow boxes stacked to the ceiling, scratching his head and muttering to himself, "Quite challenging, is it not?"
Draco simply felt somewhat bored. He knew these wands were meaningless to him, but he could only patiently continue trying until Ollivander reached the correct conclusion.
While testing wands, he glanced back boredly and found that Narcissa was no longer in the shop.
Draco suspected she might be slightly displeased about Ollivander's refusal, so she went to purchase some potion ingredients required by the list, just as in his previous life.
Only then did he notice there was a thin, adult witch beside the little girl on the bench, whispering something to her. It seemed the girl was waiting for someone.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he had thought his mother had just used her position to bully the little girl, cutting in line or similar behavior... To be honest, that would have been rather rude.
"Oh, forgive me, I believe I was entirely mistaken before." Ollivander's words made Draco turn around and continue focusing on the wand selection.
The wand-obsessed old man retrieved another wand from the overflowing shelves.
"Why not try this one? Ten inches, hawthorn wood, unicorn tail hair. Reasonably springy as well." He positioned his wrinkled face before Draco and studied him carefully, as though attempting to peer into his soul, and said thoughtfully.
It is finally here! Draco felt a surge of joy within.
His wand, his simple, elegant, flawless wand!
It possessed a light tan shaft and a solid black handle, with two raised rings where one's fingers gripped it. It felt comfortable to hold, as it was quite smooth and had a pleasant weight to it.
It was simple, not ornately decorated like his father's and mother's wands, but it functioned better than any wand in all the world with its intricate carvings and embellishments.
As soon as he grasped it, a pale golden light emerged from the tip of the wand.
"Strange and contradictory... Undoubtedly, this is a loyal wand, suitable for use by a talented wizard, otherwise the consequences may be disastrous. The unicorn tail hair is the wand's core, a symbol of nobility and purity. But this also means..." Ollivander stared at Draco and whispered softly, "...it is difficult to cast Dark magic with."
"A Malfoy, actually..." He seemed puzzled by this result, but quickly blinked and muttered, "Yes, it is not surprising the wand core is the same as your mother's."
Draco did not concern himself with Ollivander's reaction. These memories, having experienced them once before, were tedious. All his attention was on his destined wand.
Draco had missed this wand dearly and had wanted to reclaim it ever since Potter had taken it from him at Malfoy Manor.
No other wand was as compatible as this one. That was why he had gone to the Room of Requirement to confront Potter, hoping Potter would return his wand.
Draco generously paid a pile of gold Galleons and bid farewell to Ollivander, the wandmaker, politely.
He lowered his head and examined his reunited wand, slowly walking from the shop. His pale, cold face finally showed the first hint of pleasure since entering the wand shop.
He did not notice that as the brown-haired girl passed by him, the vine wood wand beside her emitted a remarkable glow.
He did not care that Ollivander exclaimed in astonishment, "Merlin's beard! This has only occurred once in the two thousand year history of Ollivanders. This is the second time..."
He only heard Ollivander remarking, "Miss Granger, there is no doubt she possesses noble aspirations and exceptional foresight, suitable for a witch with remarkable talent..."
Hermione Granger? He had not expected they would meet here before Hogwarts, Draco thought doubtfully, wondering whether he should turn around and look at her.
Had it been the same in his previous life?
He had crossed paths with her so early, even though he had been unaware of it?
Was he the first person to encounter her?
He and she had actually "met" here?
This was something he had no memory of noticing. At the time, he had no idea of the significance behind the name, and he had no interest in meeting a strange little girl.
At that time, he had been merely a spoiled boy immersed in his parents' affection, and he had been completely oblivious to what he was missing.
Now, this unexpected "encounter" made Draco wish to look back at her.
Even just a glance.
However, outside the door of Ollivanders, Lucius, carrying a stack of books and a tawny owl, was already regarding him impatiently with his grey eyes.
This was not an appropriate time to meet a Muggle-born witch, Draco suddenly realized.
His father, who was entrenched in pure-blood prejudice, might harm her.
He did not want any such possibility to arise.
If approaching her might cause her harm, he would rather not approach her.
See you at Hogwarts, then.
Draco sighed inaudibly, opened the door, and walked out without looking back.