Diagon Alley.

Vinda Rosier appeared out of thin air with Dyroth and Draco by her side.

[Congratulations to the host for entering Diagon Alley and obtaining the achievement: Explore Diagon Alley]

[Achievement point reward: 100]

Before Dyroth could fully appreciate his new achievement, he noticed Draco nearby, clutching the wall and retching.

"Ugh!"

"Is this your first time Apparating?" Dyroth asked, his expression tinged with curiosity.

"How could you even suggest that!" Draco's face twisted in defiance, attempting to stand tall, but another wave of nausea hit him, forcing him back down to vomit again.

After two or three minutes, Draco finally regained his composure.

Just as Dyroth prepared to venture into Diagon Alley with Draco, his gaze lingered on several suspicious figures lurking within the crowd.

"Aurors?" Dyroth pondered. "Or maybe someone from the pure-blood families?"

He exchanged a glance with Vinda, who gave him a subtle nod, acknowledging that she too had sensed their presence.

"Dyroth, go buy the things you need for Hogwarts first," she said quietly, her tone cool as she subtly pulled her wand from her sleeve. "I need to take care of something."

Dyroth understood. "Alright, Aunt Vinda, you go handle your business. I'll take Draco shopping and we'll catch up with you later."

Turning to Draco, Dyroth smiled. "Let's head to Ollivanders."

The two boys made their way through the bustling streets toward the small wand shop, its weathered door creaking as they stepped inside. The shop was cluttered with piles of wands, stacked high to the ceiling. Despite the chaotic appearance, it radiated an air of significance—this was, after all, where many of history's greatest wizards had found their wands.

"Ah, two young wizards! Welcome!" A cheerful, raspy voice called out from behind a tower of boxes. An old man with wild white hair emerged, wearing a long, brown robe.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander," Dyroth greeted, showing respect to the legendary wandmaker.

Ollivander's sharp eyes immediately fell on Draco, his lips curling into a knowing smile. "Ah, yes. Platinum blond hair, that unmistakable Malfoy lineage. I remember when your father came here—elm and dragon heartstring, wasn't it? Time certainly flies."

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

Draco, now composed, gave a proud nod but said nothing.

Then Ollivander turned to Dyroth, his gaze narrowing with curiosity. "And you, my boy? I don't recognize your features among the British pure-blood families…"

"Just call me Dyroth," he replied, maintaining a calm and reserved demeanor.

Sensing that Dyroth wasn't inclined to reveal more, Ollivander didn't press. Instead, he moved straight to business. "Very well. Which is your wand hand, Dyroth?"

"There's no need," Dyroth said, pulling out his wand and handing it to the old man. "I already have one."

Ollivander's eyes widened as he held the wand. "Merlin's beard…" he whispered in awe. "Elder wood… and—by God, a core I've never encountered before! What…?"

"It's qilin nerve," Dyroth explained smoothly. "A magical creature from the Far East."

"Qilin…" Ollivander echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. The significance of such a rare and powerful material wasn't lost on him. The last known sighting of a qilin was during the legendary duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

Ollivander hesitated, then asked with a piercing gaze, "Are you from the Dumbledore family?"

Dyroth felt a wave of irritation at the thought. Me? From that old bee family? The idea was absurd, but he kept his expression neutral.

"No, Mr. Ollivander," Dyroth said, his voice smooth yet firm. "Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Dyroth Grindelwald."

The name struck Ollivander like a thunderclap. His eyes widened in shock as he processed it. The memory of Gellert Grindelwald's rise and fall rushed back to him. For a moment, he seemed to lose himself in the past.

Dyroth, sensing the tension, gave a polite nod. "Now, how about helping Draco find a wand?"

Ollivander blinked and regained his composure, moving toward Draco with a measuring tape. "Which is your wand hand, young Malfoy?"

"My right."

"Try this—nine and a half inches, redwood, with dragon heartstring. Much like your father's."

Draco gave the wand a wave, and the shop's window exploded in a flash of light.

"Hmm… that won't do," Ollivander muttered, shaking his head. "You're not exactly like your father, after all." He disappeared behind the shelves, then returned with another wand. "Try this—ten inches, hawthorn, with unicorn tail hair."

Draco gave the new wand a flick, and the shattered window repaired itself instantly.

Draco's eyes lit up. "This is it!"

"That'll be seven Galleons," Ollivander said with a smile.

...

As they left the shop, Dyroth smirked. Ollivander didn't even say his classic line about picky customers. What a shame.

Draco, now in a much better mood, tugged at Dyroth's arm. "Let's go to Madam Malkin's for robes, then to Twilfitt and Tattings for dress robes. Madam Malkin's is too common. If Hogwarts didn't have to cater to Muggle-born students, I'd never…"

They soon reached Madam Malkin's, where several young wizards were already trying on robes.

"Hello! Are you two here for your Hogwarts robes?" asked a plump witch in a bright purple dress.

"Yes, Madam Malkin," Dyroth replied with a polite smile. "We'll need Hogwarts uniforms."

"Of course, dear, right this way." She waved her wand, and the measuring tape flew out, quickly measuring both boys and fitting them for their robes.

Dyroth grew a little restless as they stood in place. "Madam, how long will this take?" He was already thinking about the other items they needed, like cauldrons and books.

At that moment, the bell above the shop door jingled.

Jingle!

Dyroth glanced over and saw a thin, timid boy enter, looking overwhelmed. His clothes hung loosely on his frail frame, and behind him stood a towering figure, his face nearly hidden beneath a wild, bushy beard.

Dyroth's eyes narrowed.

Could it be...?

.

.

.