The journey back was as exhausting as ever. This ti, perhaps because he'd already thrown up earlier, Ethan was in relatively good spirits as they left, and he finally caught sight of the gray-and-white fire dragon guarding the vaults.
But before he could ask a question, a wave of nausea washed over him again, and he clamped his mouth shut.
Back in the lobby, Ethan rested for half an hour before he recovered.
Carrying four hundred Galleons, they carefully stowed the vault key and left Gringotts.
"Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. You can order the uniforms you need from here."
Professor McGonagall pushed open the door and went in.
When she saw Ethan, the short, plump witch's eyes lit up. "Hello, Professor McGonagall! Is this a new student at Hogwarts? What a handso young man!"
Having grown accustod to complints about his appearance, Ethan simply smiled and nodded to confirm he was new.
As Madam Malkin asured him with her tape asure, she declared him one of the most handso boys she had ever seen.
The Joneses bead with joy at hearing Ethan praised.
Soon, Madam Malkin helped him down from the footstool. "All right, my dear, once you've paid the deposit, you can go look around elsewhere. Co back in two hours to pick up the clothes and pay the balance."
After leaving the robe shop, their next stop was the wand shop.
The peeling gold lettering on the sign read: "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."
It reminded Ethan of a joke from his past life: "You make staffs, I carry shields, he sells swords, and we all have a bright future."
Ollivanders had been making wands for two thousand years, so its future was indeed bright. It was just a sha he couldn't share a pun like that with anyone.
Inside, his parents and Professor McGonagall sat down on the only bench. Ethan called softly into the empty shop, "Is anyone here?"
"Good morning." A gentle voice ca from right beside him.
Ethan jumped.
An old man appeared silently before him. His silvery-white eyes stared directly at him.
"Hello, Ethan Jones. You've co to buy a wand."
"Oh, hello, Mr. Jones. Yes, a new Hogwarts student." Ollivander nodded to Professor McGonagall and the Joneses.
He pulled a asuring tape with silver markings from his pocket.
"Mr. Jones, which is your wand arm?"
"I'm right-handed."
"Very good. Raise your arms."
Ollivander took the asuring tape and asured from Ethan's shoulder to his fingertips, from his wrist to his elbow, from his shoulder to the floor, from his knee to his armpit, and finally around his head.
Ethan's head was full of questions.
If the first two asurents could be explained as determining the appropriate wand length, the middle two could also be loosely interpreted the sa way.
The remaining asurents made no sense to him. Why did he need to asure his head circumference when choosing a wand? Were people with larger heads smarter? Were they more suited for high-end wands? He didn't understand, and was deeply puzzled.
During the asurent, he kept hearing Ollivander muttering to himself:
"Every Ollivander wand contains an extrely powerful magical substance, which is its essence."
"We use only unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, and dragon heartstrings. I believe these are the best materials for wand cores."
"Every wand we make is unique, because no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are exactly alike."
"Of course, if you used a wand that belonged to another wizard, you wouldn't get such good results."
What was most outrageous was when Ollivander asured the distance between his nostrils.
As the asuring tape slipped to the floor and balled up, Ollivander had already taken several cardboard boxes from the floor-to-ceiling shelf.
"Mr. Jones, try this one first. Ash and snake nerve, ten inches, quite flexible. Give it a wave and see."
A wand was thrust into Ethan's hand.
He thought, Didn't you just say you only use three materials? Where did snake nerve suddenly co from? Am I hearing things, or did you just contradict yourself?
He gripped the wand and gave it a small wave. A pulse of red light shot from the tip, leaving a small dent in one of the pillars.
"No, this one won't do."
Ollivander snatched it from his hand and pressed another into his palm.
"Try this one as well. Aspen and unicorn hair, nine and a quarter inches, quite sturdy."
He'd barely waved it before Ollivander took it back again.
Wand after wand, he worked his way through every single one Ollivander had pulled from the shelves, yet none of them proved suitable.
Ollivander was growing visibly excited now. He grabbed another bundle of wands from the shelf and began handing them to Ethan one by one.
The whole thing was starting to make Ethan wonder if he'd wandered into a madman's shop.
Finally, as another wand was placed in his hand, his fingertips prickled with warmth. Before he could even wave it, a black light shot from the tip and burst against the wall.
"Rowan wood, twelve and a third inches, dragon heartstring core, unyielding," Ollivander read the wand's details aloud.
"What a remarkable combination, Mr. Jones. Such rare materials."
He clapped his hands together.
"Rowan wands choose owners destined for longevity. I have never heard of a rowan wand owner dying young. They always favor those who are independent, unrestrained, or enigmatic."
Ollivander studied Ethan's dark eyes, his expression unreadable. "I rember every rowan wand I have sold. Most belonged to the sa family, but that family has not revealed itself in a very long ti..."
"Oh? What family?" Ethan asked, running his fingers along the smooth wand, curiosity evident on his face.
"A mysterious family. Let us not speak of it. That will be seven Galleons." He glanced at Ethan's dark eyes once more, then lowered his head to place the wand in its box.
"Tch!" Ethan was annoyed. He despised people who spoke in riddles and left sentences unfinished.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Shall we proceed? You still have a great deal to purchase."
Ethan didn't press the matter. He paid and left, with Ollivander bowing respectfully behind him.
Professor McGonagall led him onward.
First, he bought a large pewter cauldron, a set of brass scales, and a collapsible brass telescope from a shop he'd noticed upon entering Diagon Alley.
Then he stopped at the stationery store for the essentials: parchnt, quills, and ink.
At the apothecary, he purchased a set of crystal phials and, on the shopkeeper's recomndation, a small potion kit with basic ingredients.
Professor McGonagall didn't stop him; she knew these purchases ant nothing to him.
"Finally, we need a pet and your books. Let's hurry along; we've spent quite enough ti at the wand shop," McGonagall urged.
"Yes, Professor."
After a mont's thought, they quickened their pace toward Eeylops Owl Emporium. He had chosen the owl shop, intending to take care of the simple matters first.
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