HOGWARTS - HARRY

Dylan didn't have much money. However, it was his parents' life savings, and two thousand Galleons would be more than enough. Still, he had no plans to exchange all of it at once—he needed to keep some capital in hand.

Instead, he exchanged five hundred pounds for one hundred Galleons and carried them with him, which made the goblins roll their eyes. As expected, little wizards from Muggle families were all poor!

Buying the Hogwarts Ticket

"Let's go buy tickets," Professor McGonagall said, leading Dylan toward the counter.

She reminded him, "At King's Cross Station, look for the third pillar between platforms nine and ten. Don't be afraid—just run into it, and you'll reach Platform 9 ¾."

Dylan nodded.

Under Professor McGonagall's guidance, he then arrived at the wand shop.

Ollivanders Wand Shop

Dylan looked up at the store's sign:

"Founded in 382 BC?"

He observed the small, cramped shop and smacked his lips.

"Has this place never been renovated in the past few hundred years?" he muttered.

Professor McGonagall chuckled. "Don't worry, wizard homes are supported by magic. The Ollivander family's craftsmanship isn't just about making wands—this place will never collapse."

She pushed the door open, and Dylan followed her inside.

As soon as they entered, they spotted an old man rummaging through a pile of wand boxes, his back turned toward them.

Hearing the doorbell ring, Ollivander straightened up and turned to greet them.

"Nine and a half inches, fir wood, dragon heartstring..." He smiled. "Ah, Professor McGonagall! I'm so glad you've brought another young wizard to take care of my business."

Professor McGonagall placed a hand on Dylan's shoulder. "Please find him a wand that suits him."

Then, she turned to Dylan. "I need to buy some magical materials. After you choose your wand, wait for me at the door."

"Okay, Professor." Dylan nodded.

The doorbell rang again as McGonagall left the shop.

Ollivander turned his full attention to Dylan, his face filled with curiosity.

"Are you ready to become a real wizard, young man? Which hand do you use?"

"I'm right-handed," Dylan replied, raising his dominant hand.

"Ah! Alright, wait a moment." Ollivander measured Dylan with a floating ruler before rummaging through his wand boxes.

Finally, he picked one out.

"Try this."

Dylan took the wand and instinctively waved it.

The next moment, muscle memory almost made him cast an Avatar spell at Ollivander.

"Oh, crap!" Dylan panicked, quickly suppressing the curse in his mind. Instead, he simply flicked his wrist.

Crash!

A sudden gust of wind erupted, scattering wand boxes all over the shop.

But Ollivander, unfazed, waved his own wand.

"Back to normal!"

The boxes magically floated back into place.

"Hmm, it seems this one isn't suitable for you," Ollivander mused.

He turned to the shelves and searched again.

"Let's try this one."

Dylan took the new wand and gave it a gentle flick.

Swish!

A magical flame burst from the tip.

"It seems the magic inside you is quite intense," Ollivander noted.

He retrieved the wand and handed Dylan another.

But wand after wand, the results were disastrous.

Each attempt caused shockwaves, fire, or even small explosions.

Dylan started to feel uneasy.

Could this be why he had learned Unforgivable Curses at full proficiency before even mastering a wand? Were the wands resisting him?

"Don't worry, child. I have plenty of wands. We'll find one for you," Ollivander reassured him.

Dylan forced a weak smile. "That's... reassuring, sir."

"You're not the most difficult customer I've had," Ollivander chuckled.

He climbed a ladder and scanned the upper shelves.

"This one? No... This one doesn't suit you either... Ah, try this!"

He pried a wand from its resting place and handed it to Dylan.

Dylan gave it a slight wave.

BOOM!

A shockwave surged toward Ollivander.

Startled, Dylan watched as the wandmaker skillfully neutralized the blast.

Dylan sighed in relief but remained puzzled.

"Why is it that a young wizard who hasn't formally studied spells can produce such powerful magic just by waving a wand?"

Dylan tried another wand.

BOOM!

This time, the explosion was stronger.

Ollivander quickly cast emergency countermeasures to contain it.

At that moment, Dylan sensed the fluctuations of magic within his body.

"Could it be due to temporary magical instability?"

Each time he used a wand, different effects emerged—flames, shockwaves, explosions.

Why?

Why was every wand producing such powerful and unpredictable results?

Dylan decided to experiment.

Each time he held a wand, he focused on controlling the output of his magic.

He waved one wand.

He tried manipulating the energy flow.

He adjusted the force of his grip.

With each attempt, the reactions changed.

Suddenly, Ollivander's eyes widened in horror.

"Wait! What are you doing?!"

Dylan blinked. "Huh?"

"What did you just say? You're trying to control the magic output?! Oh my God!"

Ollivander dropped a wand box, striding toward Dylan with urgency.

"You—don't do that again!"

He grabbed Dylan's wrist, prying the wand from his grip.

"You're experimenting with spell invention—that's incredibly dangerous! This is not something you should be doing right now!"

Dylan furrowed his brows. "Spell invention?"

Ollivander's expression was serious.

"Yes. The earliest wizards who created spells did exactly what you're doing now. They studied the flow of magic, observed its patterns, and eventually developed incantations to channel it properly."

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"But without control, raw magic is unpredictable. If you release too much at once, you could cause serious harm—or worse."

Dylan absorbed Ollivander's words.

So this was why his magic was so unstable.

He was unknowingly reverse-engineering spellcasting.

Ancient wizards had done the same, long before wands were even invented.

Ollivander narrowed his eyes.

"As fascinating as this is, young man, I strongly advise against it. Magic may seem limitless, but its dangers are very real."

Dylan remained silent.

For the first time, he realized that raw magic—untamed, unrestricted—was far more chaotic than he had imagined.

And he had been on the verge of tampering with forces that even skilled wizards feared.

Ollivander sighed.

"I will find you a wand. But promise me, no more experimenting like this."

Dylan nodded slowly.

"Alright, sir. I understand."

Ollivander studied him for a long moment before turning back to his shelves.

The search for a suitable wand continued.

But deep inside, Dylan couldn't shake the realization:

He had an innate connection with raw magic.

And whether he liked it or not...

He was different from other wizards.