I swung my greatsword at Hogwarts

"Ollivander's Wand Shop, making fine wands since 382 BC."

At the last stop, John finally came to the most exciting moment.

If you want to say that the whole Harry Potter can best represent the wizarding world, it must be a magic wand in each hand.

Without a wand, even if you are Voldemort, you have to stand still.

Ollivander Wand Shop.

This is the largest munitions facility supply facility in the magic world.

John couldn't help but praised: "As expected of the staff made in 382 BC, it's really extraordinary."

Immediately, like a little grown-up, he told Mrs. Wick to keep an eye on the husband of the middle-aged man who was overly curious.

John walked inside with unusually excited steps.

After walking in, the first thing you see is not a person, but the pile of thousands of long and narrow cardboard boxes containing magic wands.

The storefront, which was originally small, became narrower and narrower against the backdrop of the cardboard boxes.

The thick dust everywhere made John wonder how Ollivander lived in it. Doesn't it need to be cleaned?

As John looked inside, Ollivander looked at him too.

"good afternoon."

Walking out of the pile of paper boxes, Ollivander had a kind smile on his face.

"Hello, I would like a..."

"Wands, of course everybody wants a wand."

Ollivander accepted John's words with a smile and walked out from behind the counter.

"Freshman at Hogwarts, what's your name?"

"John Wick."

"Very well, Mr. Wick, which arm is your dominant hand?"

"Right hand...in fact, my left hand is fine too."

John shoots left and right, thanks to his two-and-a-half years of practicing pencil stunts, in order to be able to quickly deal with enemies on the left and right.

"Left hand then."

After thinking about it for a while, John still chose the left hand.

Ollivander took out a tape measure and gesticulated on John. The tape measure was enchanted.

Looking at Ollivander with a serious face, John felt a strange feeling in his heart.

The old man didn't seem to be selling wands, but more like a tailor.

"All wands are unique, the wizard does not choose the wand, the wand chooses the wizard."

After the measurement, Ollivander smiled mysteriously and left this sentence.

Back behind the counter, Ollivander first removed a carton from the shelf.

When the box was opened, a black wand lay inside.

"Willow with unicorn hair, seven and three quarters, you should try it," says Ollivander.

John took the wand with excitement, it was the first wand he had ever touched.

Trying to swipe to the side vigorously, the wooden cabinet in the store exploded directly, and the wood residue splashed all over the ground.

The sheer power kept John on the spot.

"It doesn't seem to be it, try this one again."

Ollivander took the wand carefully and took out a mahogany wand again.

John took it, and the paper box next to it burst open.

"You're picky, try this, yew and dragon heartstring."

Time wore on and it seemed like none of the roots could adapt.

Under the constant replacement, John was a little numb.

The store, which was supposed to be fairly clean, had been blown to pieces. Even Watson, who was stopped by his wife outside, suspected that the store was selling ammunition instead of magic wands.

"Mr Wick, with all due respect, I have never seen a student as destructive as you."

Even the best-tempered oak and unicorn hair can exert the power of a bomb in John's hands, which makes Ollivander more and more excited.

The more picky guests are, the more sense of accomplishment they can bring to Ollivander.

"I remember, it was a wand as picky as you are."

Thinking of something, Ollivander slapped his head.

The old man climbed up the shelf with such a fast pace that John wondered how old he was, and at the same time, he was really afraid that he would step on the air and fall off.

After rummaging through the cartons on the shelf, Ollivander found a dusty carton in his hand.

Blowing it out in one breath made the dust turn into a cloud of dust and fly out on the box.

"Red oak and ptarmigan tail feathers, nine and three quarters, springy and pliable."

He reached out with a smile and took out the wand inside, and Ollivander handed it to John expectantly.

A pair of eyes stared at John, as if watching his daughter get married nervously.

When John took it, an idea popped into his mind for no reason.

"It's it."

Blessed to the soul.

Raise your hand and wave your wand gracefully.

There was no explosion, just a little bit of fluorescent light emerging from the tip of the wand, as gentle as a breeze, falling on the face like bubbles.

"That's it!"

Clapping happily, Ollivander showed a satisfied smile.

Every wand is a wayward child, and it is the greatest happiness for children to find their own partners.

Ollivander smiled and said to John: "The red oak wand is passionate about fighting, it is the warrior in the wand."

"It sounds like it suits me better than a pencil." John also smiled, and now he doesn't need to carry the pencil on the lining.

I hope that the red oak is better than the pencil, so that I am not afraid of breaking it.

The price of a wand is 7 Galleons.

After paying the money, John went to meet his parents.

Along the way, Watson showed great interest in John's wand, and even took the wand to make a morning glory bloom on his wife's head.

John snatched back his wand, lest his father continue to be a monster.

"By the way, I still want to buy an owl." John slapped his forehead.

I almost forgot that there are no telephones in Hogwarts. If there is no owl, you can only use the Hogwarts public owl.

Thinking of the grumpy owl, John thought it would be a good idea to buy one.

...

Yila Owl Shop.

There was a lot of noise in the store, and the smell of owls and bird droppings made Mrs. Wick unbearable and went out first.

"That's it."

John chose the white one among the many owls at a glance.

It was a snowy owl, and John named it Basil.

Basil, the snowy owl, tilted his head and stared at John with his eyes on his round face, as if he wanted to remember this master.

After returning home, Watson became very playful and took various pictures with John's wand.

If it weren't for John's wizard robe not being able to fit in, it is estimated that he would have to wear it and take a few more photos.

Mrs. Wick leaned against the cabinet and looked at him helplessly, as if looking at a child who hadn't grown up, with a hint of a smile in her eyes.

At the same time, Harry also received his gift.

A snowy owl he named Hedwig.

This is his happiest day.

...

John received a present.

When Mrs. Wick took out the gift, John was taken aback by the moving gift box, subconsciously pulled out his wand and held it backwards to be vigilant.

Open the gift box, and a puppy emerges from it.

Large ears, brown on top of head, black on back.

Beagle, full name Beagle Beagle.

After the puppy came out, it licked John's face wildly, and the dog-licking attributes were obvious at a glance.

Mrs. Wick smiled watching this warm scene, and leaned into Watson's arms and said warmly:

"Your dad and I don't think it's okay for you to take a spider or a mouse to school, and this little one is our start-to-school gift for you."

Watson followed suit and nodded, mouthing silently, apparently saying that it was your mother's idea.

Watson, who has become a fan of wizards for some time, doesn't think mice are bad.

Come on, take a mouse to school, that's cool.

John felt that if Pop was a wizard, he must be a Gryffindor.

This spirit of exploration of everything and the spirit of adventure that is not afraid of death is the perfect embodiment of the group of little lions.

"Thank you mom, I also don't think it's good to bring a mouse."

John, who also doesn't like mice, likes this gift very much. After all, mice remind John of a plot in Harry Potter.

It seems that there is a greasy middle-aged uncle who turned into a mouse. He was disgusted when he turned back into a human form.

Pick up the puppy. This puppy is only a few months old, and its tail is wagging like a propeller.

"Give your pet a name. I even named the first toy car your grandma gave me."

It is a pity that Watson was not able to buy a black widow as a pet for his son as he wished.

Father and son have always had the same taste when it comes to naming.

John held the puppy, dealing with the dog-licking offensive.

"What's the name, let me think about it, let's call it Tom."

Well, this Tom is the Tom and Jerry one, definitely not Voldemort's real name.

In this way, John had his first dog.

...