Immortal Bird

The next morning, at precisely 9 a.m., Professor McGonagall and Alexander arrived at a small, unassuming pub in London called The Leaky Cauldron. They had taken a taxi, and as Alexander stepped out, he frowned, eyeing the worn, grimy exterior of the building.

"Is it really here?" he asked skeptically, his sharp blue eyes scanning the pub as though expecting something grander.

McGonagall's lips curled into a faint smile, her eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement. "Let me tell you something, Mr. Ravenwood," she said, her tone calm yet knowing. "For new wizards, magic often teaches the most valuable lesson of all — never judge a book by its cover."

They stepped into the dimly lit pub, where the only person present was the bartender, a bald, slightly hunched man polishing a glass behind the counter. He looked up and offered a polite smile.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," he greeted warmly. "I see you're escorting another new student today."

"Good morning, Tom," McGonagall replied with a nod of acknowledgment. "Yes, I'm helping young Ravenwood get his supplies."

Tom gave Alexander a brief, curious glance before returning to his work. "I won't keep you, then. Don't let me slow you down," he added, his voice friendly but unobtrusive.

Professor McGonagall led Alexander through the pub and toward a small, nondescript door at the back. Pushing it open, they stepped into a narrow courtyard, where a solid red brick wall stood before them.

McGonagall turned to Alexander, her expression calm but instructive. "Pay close attention, Mr. Ravenwood. This pattern is important—it will open the way to Diagon Alley."

With that, she drew her wand from within her robes and pointed it at the bricks. Carefully, she tapped one brick, then another, forming a distinct pattern with deliberate precision. The tip of her wand glowed faintly with each touch.

For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then, the wall shuddered and rippled like water before the bricks began to twist and shift, folding in on themselves to reveal a growing archway. Beyond it, Alexander glimpsed a bustling street filled with colorful shops, strange signs, and an energy unlike anything he'd ever seen.

As the red bricks finished rearranging, the archway opened fully, revealing the vibrant, bustling wonder that was Diagon Alley. The narrow cobbled street stretched ahead, alive with movement and noise. Shops lined both sides of the alley, each with its own unique charm. Signboards of all shapes and sizes hung above the doors—some swayed gently while others were charmed to float or spin on their own.

To Alexander's left, a shop window displayed an assortment of gleaming cauldrons stacked in various sizes, one of which was stirring itself as if impatient. On his right, a store with golden lettering—Flourish and Blotts—showcased stacks of enchanted books, some fluttering their pages as though eager to be read. Further down, a shop with bright green smoke spilling from its chimney caught his eye, emitting soft pops and whistles from within.

The scent of freshly baked goods from a small corner bakery mingled with the strange aromas drifting out of potion shops. Witches and wizards in robes of every color bustled about—some carrying peculiar objects, like owls in cages or broomsticks slung over their shoulders, while others haggled over exotic wares. The entire street was alive with a kind of energy that felt impossible to contain.

Alexander stood frozen for a moment, his iceberg-blue eyes wide with wonder as he took it all in. A slow, genuine smile formed on his lips as he finally spoke, his voice filled with quiet awe.

"I think I'm going to love magic."

Professor McGonagall turned her head slightly, watching the boy with a faint but warm smile of her own. "I suspect you will, Mr. Ravenwood," she replied softly. Then, with a hint of amusement in her tone, she added, "Come along now. There's much to do."

As they walked through the lively streets of Diagon Alley, Professor McGonagall turned to Alexander and spoke, "I've already taken the liberty of visiting Gringotts to withdraw the funds necessary for your supplies." She reached into her robes and produced three distinct coins, holding them up for him to see.

"These are the wizarding coins used here in Britain," she began, her voice taking on a matter-of-fact tone. "The smallest one is a Knut—it's made of bronze and worth the least." She held up the tiny, coppery coin, its surface gleaming faintly in the morning light.

She then displayed a larger silver coin. "This is a Sickle. It's worth 29 Knuts." The coin had a slightly heavier appearance, its polished surface etched with faint runic markings.

Finally, she showed him a large, heavy gold coin. "And this," she said with a small pause for emphasis, "is a Galleon. It's the most valuable coin, worth 17 Sickles."

Alexander examined the coins with keen interest, his sharp blue eyes flickering over each one. He noted their craftsmanship—the Knut's simplicity, the Sickle's elegant design, and the Galleon's regal weight and shine.

"So, bronze for Knuts, silver for Sickles, and gold for Galleons," he said quietly, committing it to memory. "Seems straightforward enough."

McGonagall nodded approvingly. "It may take a little getting used to, but you'll manage just fine. Now," she added briskly, tucking the coins back into her robes, "let's not dawdle. We have quite the list of supplies to gather."

Alexander glanced once more at the vibrant shops and the witches and wizards bustling past them. "Gringotts…" he murmured, his curiosity piqued. "Is that the bank?"

"It is indeed," McGonagall replied with a slight smile. "Run by goblins, no less—a fascinating and highly skilled group, though best not to test their patience."

Alexander smirked faintly. "I'll keep that in mind."

Their first stop was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, a tidy little shop with large windows showcasing elegant wizarding robes. Inside, the walls were lined with bolts of fabric in rich hues, and enchanted needles floated through the air, stitching and hemming without any visible hands.

A squat, kindly witch with a warm smile greeted them. "Ah, Professor McGonagall! A pleasure as always. And this must be a new Hogwarts student?"

"Indeed," McGonagall said, gesturing to Alexander. "Young Mr. Ravenwood here needs his Hogwarts uniform."

Madam Malkin nodded eagerly. "Step right over here, dear, and we'll get you sorted."

Alexander stood on a small platform as a measuring tape sprang to life, zipping around him like an excited serpent. It recorded his measurements on its own, scribbling figures onto a floating clipboard. Madam Malkin produced black robes made of fine, durable material, draping them over him with ease.

"These will do nicely," she said, adjusting the fit with a few flicks of her wand. "Hogwarts uniforms are sturdy and will last you through all sorts of adventures."

Alexander glanced at himself in the mirror as the robes settled perfectly onto his shoulders. The fabric was light yet warm, fitting like it had been made just for him. He turned to McGonagall with a raised eyebrow. "Practical and stylish. I can get used to this."

Professor McGonagall allowed herself a small smile. "You'll find Hogwarts has its own sense of style, Mr. Ravenwood."

After finishing with the uniform and paying, they made their way to the next destination—the Apothecary.

As they entered the Apothecary, the dimly lit shop was filled with the musty scent of dried herbs, smoky incense, and bottled potions. Shelves were lined with jars and vials, containing everything from dragon liver to powdered moonstone, each ingredient more mysterious than the last. The soft sound of clinking glass echoed through the shop as a few customers moved around, gathering their own supplies.

Behind the counter stood a man who appeared to be in charge of the shop, a stocky, middle-aged man with a thick beard and a friendly demeanor. He was busily organizing some vials when the bell over the door jingled, signaling their arrival. He looked up, offering a welcoming smile as he spotted McGonagall.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall!" the man greeted cheerfully. "Another new student, I see?"

McGonagall smiled back politely. "Good morning, Gerald. Yes, this is Alexander Ravenwood. He'll be needing his supplies today."

Gerald gave a nod of acknowledgment, though his attention quickly shifted to a tall, thin man entering the shop shortly after them. Severus Snape, the Potions Master at Hogwarts, swept into the store with a dark presence. His pale, sharp features and greasy black hair made him an imposing figure, and he seemed to carry an air of disdain for the mundane world around him.

"Ah, Severus," McGonagall said, her tone cool but courteous. "I see you're restocking as well?"

Snape gave a curt nod, though he didn't greet Gerald directly. "Restocking the Hogwarts supply," he muttered, his voice low and controlled as he moved to one of the shelves and began inspecting the ingredients. "The school's potion stock is dangerously low."

Gerald smiled and nodded, understanding the importance of maintaining proper stock for the school. "Of course, Severus. You'll find everything you need," he said as he turned to continue his own tasks behind the counter.

McGonagall turned to Alexander, who was observing Snape with keen interest. "Alexander,this is Professor Severus Snape," she introduced. "The Potions Master at Hogwarts. He'll be teaching you Potion-making."

Snape barely spared them a glance, continuing his work on the shelves. However, he did speak up when he noticed Alexander's gaze. "I trust you're here for your supplies, Ravenwood?" His voice was smooth, but it carried an edge. "Potion-making is not for the faint of heart. It requires more than just following instructions."

Alexander, eager to engage, asked, "Is Potion-making like chemistry? Where different ingredients are mixed together and a reaction occurs?"

Snape paused for a moment, his hand hovering above a vial, clearly taken aback by the question. He slowly turned his gaze back to Alexander, his eyes narrowing slightly in both curiosity and surprise. "It is similar, in a way," Snape said, his voice colder than before, though there was a hint of approval hidden beneath the surface. "But Potion-making is not simply about mixing ingredients. It is about knowing the essence of each component, understanding how they interact, and guiding them in a way that is not always intuitive. It is both an art and a science."

Alexander nodded, his eyes alight with interest. "Sounds like something I'd enjoy."

Snape's lips curled into the faintest of smirks. "We'll see," he said, his voice almost challenging. "I look forward to seeing if you truly have the aptitude for it."

He then turned back to the shelves, continuing his restocking without further comment, as if the conversation was already over. McGonagall, however, glanced at Alexander with an amused expression.

"Not often that Snape shows interest in a new student," she said quietly. "Consider yourself fortunate."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "I suppose that's a good sign, then."

McGonagall gave a small laugh. "We'll see. He's a tough one to impress."

With that, they finished their shopping in the Apothecary, leaving the store with a small assortment of potion ingredients. As they stepped back into the bustling street of Diagon Alley, Alexander couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the adventures that awaited him in the world of magic, especially with subjects like Potions on the horizon.

As they continued walking down the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, Alexander, still curious about the world he was about to enter, asked Professor McGonagall, "Talking about subjects, what subjects do you teach at Hogwarts?"

McGonagall glanced at him with a glimmer of pride in her eyes. "I teach Transfiguration, Alexander," she answered smoothly. "It's a complex branch of magic that deals with changing one object into another. It's a subject that requires not only skill but an understanding of magical theory and control."

Alexander's brow furrowed as he tried to grasp the idea. "Transfiguration?" he repeated. "What exactly is that?"

McGonagall smiled, her tone warm yet firm. "Transfiguration involves changing the physical form of an object, such as turning a matchstick into a needle, or a teapot into a tortoise. It's a delicate and powerful branch of magic, requiring precision and focus. It's a subject that teaches you to think deeply about the magic, not just cast spells mindlessly."

Alexander's eyes widened as he imagined the possibilities. "That sounds incredible."

"It is," she said with a slight nod. "And it is just one of the many subjects you'll study at Hogwarts. You'll also have to take subjects like Potions, Herbology, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and many others."

As they walked toward Flourish and Blotts, she added, "Every student at Hogwarts must take a broad range of subjects in their first few years to get a good foundation. But as you grow older, you'll get to choose the ones that interest you the most."

Alexander thought about it for a moment, his excitement growing even more. "So, there's a lot to learn, then?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

Professor McGonagall gave a small smile. "Indeed, Alexander. And that's just the beginning. But I have no doubt you'll excel with your thirst for knowledge."

As they reached their destination, Alexander couldn't help but feel the weight and excitement of the journey ahead.

As they entered Flourish and Blotts, the musty scent of parchment and ink filled the air. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, each one more fascinating than the last. Professor McGonagall moved ahead, heading toward the counter to buy the required textbooks for Alexander's first year at Hogwarts, but Alexander's attention was quickly drawn to a section near the back of the shop.

His eyes swept over the titles: Runes and Ancient Symbols, Defensive Warding Spells, Magical Creatures and Their Care, and The Art of Duelist Combat. Each book seemed to promise a deeper understanding of the world of magic, beyond what he had been told so far.

He picked up Runes and Ancient Symbols, its dark cover etched with intricate, glowing symbols, his fingers grazing the spine as he flipped through the pages. He paused, absorbing the detailed illustrations of ancient inscriptions and their meanings, each one more captivating than the last. His gaze then shifted to Defensive Warding Spells, a thick tome that seemed to pulse with energy. The words "Protective Magic" caught his eye. He was eager to know how to defend himself, and this book seemed like the perfect place to start.

McGonagall, noticing the books Alexander was drawn to, paused in her transaction and glanced over her shoulder. She raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes noticing the intensity with which he examined the books. "You seem to have a natural curiosity for the more advanced subjects," she remarked, walking over to where he stood, her voice carrying a mixture of amusement and approval.

Alexander looked up, a little sheepish but still clearly intrigued. "I just thought these looked interesting. I didn't know there were so many other types of magic."

McGonagall smiled, her tone softening. "Indeed. The world of magic is vast and full of different branches. Runes, wards, magical creatures, dueling—it all plays an important role in understanding the full scope of the magical world." She eyed the books he was considering, then added, "But for now, you should focus on your first-year subjects. These advanced texts can come later, when you've built a solid foundation."

Alexander nodded slowly, but the excitement was still evident in his eyes. "I'm definitely going to read them when I get the chance."

McGonagall chuckled softly. "I have no doubt you will. You have a thirst for knowledge that will serve you well, Alexander." She gave a small nod toward the counter where she was waiting for the last of his books. "Now, let's get you those textbooks. We'll save the advanced studies for another time."

Reluctantly, Alexander placed the books back on the shelf, but his mind was already racing with thoughts of all the magical knowledge he had yet to uncover.

Professor McGonagall smiled as she watched Alexander reluctantly set the books back on the shelf. "You know," she said, her voice gentle but filled with the kind of quiet wisdom only someone with years of experience could possess, "You can read those books in the Hogwarts library when you're ready. It's one of the best magical libraries in the world."

Her eyes twinkled slightly as she continued. "The library is enormous, with thousands of books on every magical subject you can imagine. There are sections for spells, potions, magical creatures, history, even magical theory and advanced studies. You'll find books there that you won't see anywhere else, hidden deep within the shelves of the restricted section. But that is a privilege you'll have to earn when you're older and more advanced."

She paused, allowing the thought to settle before continuing. "The library itself is an imposing yet welcoming place. It's always quiet, filled with the smell of aged paper and the gentle rustling of pages. The walls are lined with towering bookshelves that reach as high as the ceiling, and there are cozy reading nooks nestled among the stacks. In the center, there's a large fireplace, perfect for warming up on cold, stormy nights. And if you're ever in need of help, Madam Pince, the librarian, is always there, though she can be a bit strict about keeping the library in order."

Alexander listened with growing interest, imagining the vast library in his mind. A place filled with knowledge, just waiting to be discovered. "That sounds amazing," he murmured, a spark of excitement flickering in his eyes.

McGonagall gave him a nod. "It is. And when you're ready to explore all that knowledge, the library will be there for you. But for now, let's finish getting your school supplies." She gestured toward the counter, where the books for his first year were already neatly packed. "Your journey as a student of magic is just beginning, Alexander, and there is much to learn."

As they walked out of Flourish and Blotts, their arms laden with books, Professor McGonagall turned to Alexander. "Now,one of the final part of your school supplies," she said. "The pets. Have you given any thought to what kind of pet you might want?"

Alexander, looking thoughtful, raised an eyebrow. "Does it need to be a frog, an owl, or a cat?" he asked, wondering if those were the only options.

McGonagall smiled slightly, her lips curling into a small but knowing smile. "No, it doesn't have to be one of those," she replied, her tone kind but firm. "Though, they are the most common and practical for students at Hogwarts. Owls are used for communication, cats are often familiar companions, and frogs… well, they have their uses in potions."

She gave him a pointed look, as though saying, but you'll learn about that in time. "However," she continued, "there are rules. Dangerous or aggressive animals, like some of the magical beasts you may have heard about, are not allowed. A school full of young witches and wizards is not the place for creatures that can get out of hand."

She glanced sideways at Alexander, adding, "You'll want to choose a pet that will not only be good company, but also one that can help you in your studies."

They approached the Magical Menagerie, a shop with large windows displaying a variety of animals, some familiar and others less so. McGonagall glanced at Alexander before stepping inside, ready to help him find the right companion for his first year at Hogwarts.

As they walked through the Magical Menagerie, Alexander's gaze shifted from one animal to another, but nothing seemed to capture his attention. That was until he spotted a raven perched on a high branch in one of the cages, its dark feathers almost shimmering in the light. Its eyes, a piercing shade of red, glinted with an intelligence that was far beyond the ordinary. The raven's sleek, black wings folded against its body with an elegance that seemed almost regal. It was no ordinary bird.

This raven was known in magical circles as an Odin Crow, named for its mysterious abilities and its connection to the ancient Norse god, Odin. The Odin Crow was renowned for its power to share its vision with its owner, allowing them to see through its eyes and experience the world as it did. A rare magical creature, it was often sought after by witches and wizards with strong affinities for magic, but it wasn't easy to bond with. The bird only chose those it deemed worthy — those who could understand its silent language.

As Alexander stepped closer to the cage, the raven tilted its head, its red eyes locking onto his with an almost knowing gaze. It seemed to be studying him, as if trying to determine something. Alexander stood still, feeling an odd connection form between them, as if the bird was speaking to him without words. He raised a hand slowly, almost instinctively, and the raven tilted its head further, watching him with intensity.

The shop owner, noticing the connection between the two, smiled faintly and looked at Professor McGonagall. "It seems this raven has taken a liking to the young man. It doesn't usually happen so quickly with a new owner."

Professor McGonagall, too, watched the silent exchange with a mixture of surprise and admiration. She had seen magical creatures bond with their potential owners, but this was different. The raven's attention seemed fixed solely on Alexander, and there was an unmistakable sense of communication between them.

Alexander, feeling the raven's pull, took another step closer. He reached out cautiously, but the bird didn't flinch. Instead, it hopped toward the bars of its cage, its red eyes still locked on him. It was almost as if the raven was silently offering its trust, inviting Alexander to bond with it. Without thinking, he whispered softly, "Do you want to come with me?"

The raven gave a small, knowing caw and spread its wings slightly, as if in agreement. It was a silent promise, one that seemed to say it was ready to become his familiar.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. She turned to the shop owner. "That's quite rare. It seems the bird has chosen him."

The shopkeeper nodded, watching the interaction with interest. "Yes, Odin Crows are known for their intelligence and selective nature. They don't often take to just anyone."

Alexander smiled, sensing the bond forming between him and the raven. He didn't fully understand it, but it felt right. It felt as though he had found something — or someone — who understood him in a way few others ever could.

"Well," McGonagall said, her voice tinged with approval, "it seems you have already made your choice. A fine companion, indeed."

As the shop owner prepared the raven for purchase, McGonagall watched Alexander closely. She was beginning to understand the depth of his connection to the magical world, and with each moment, she was more certain that Alexander Ravenwood was no ordinary young wizard. The bond he shared with the Odin Crow was just the beginning of something far greater.

As Alexander stood there, his hand still extended toward the raven, the bird suddenly pecked gently at his finger. A sharp sting of pain coursed through his hand, and Alexander flinched, but then he noticed something strange. A small drop of blood had fallen from his finger and landed on the raven's beak. The moment the drop touched the bird, there was a strange pulse of energy, as if the bond between them had been sealed.

The raven's red eyes flashed briefly, and for a moment, Alexander could feel something shift — like an invisible thread had connected them, linking their fates together. The raven let out a soft caw, and then, as if the bond had been made official, it hopped out of its cage with a fluid motion. Without hesitation, it landed gracefully on Alexander's shoulder, its wings folding neatly against its body.

Alexander could feel the warmth of the bird against his skin, the faint hum of magic vibrating between them. The connection was undeniable. He wasn't sure exactly how it worked or what it meant yet, but he knew with certainty that the raven — this Odin Crow — was now his familiar.

The shop owner, watching the scene with awe, raised an eyebrow. "Well, it seems that's a true bond. The Odin Crow rarely accepts its new master so easily... but once it does, there's no going back."

McGonagall looked on with quiet admiration. "An unusual connection, indeed. The Odin Crow has always been known to form bonds with only the most exceptional of wizards." She turned to Alexander with a knowing smile. "It seems, Alexander, that you have found a true companion."

The raven perched calmly on his shoulder, its red eyes watching McGonagall, then shifting to Alexander, as if waiting for something. For a moment, Alexander felt as though the bird understood him on a level far deeper than words could describe. The bond was more than just magical; it was something ancient, something that tied them together in a way he could hardly explain.

McGonagall seemed pleased by the turn of events but also a little surprised. "A fine choice, Ravenwood. A very fine choice." She gave a small nod of approval, and Alexander, feeling the weight of the raven on his shoulder, knew this was only the beginning of his journey into the magical world.

Then they went to buy the last thing,the wand.

As they entered Ollivanders, the shop felt even more alive than before, the air thick with magic and anticipation. The shelves were filled with hundreds of wands, each one seeming to pulse with its own unique energy. The flickering light cast strange shadows on the walls, and the faint scent of ancient wood and dust lingered in the air.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall," Mr. Ollivander said with a knowing smile, his sharp blue eyes scanning both her and Alexander. "And a new student, I presume?"

McGonagall nodded and stepped forward. "Yes, Alexander Ravenwood is here to find his wand, Mr. Ollivander."

Ollivander gave Alexander an intense, measured look, his eyes seeming to pierce through him as though he could see the boy's very soul. "The wand chooses the wizard," he said, his voice smooth and calm, " Let's see if we can find a match."

He moved with surprising speed for his age, collecting a few wands from the shelves before turning back to Alexander. "Go ahead. Try this one first," Ollivander said, handing a slender wand made of ash wood to Alexander.

Taking the wand in his hand, Alexander gave it an experimental wave. Instantly, the wand reacted, a flash of magic sparking from the tip. To Alexander's surprise, a wave of energy burst from the wand, shooting across the shop and hitting a small notebook resting on the counter. The notebook quivered and then transformed into a small red dragon, its scales gleaming and eyes flashing with a life of their own. It gave a little roar before fluttering its tiny wings and circling the shop.

Professor McGonagall gasped, her eyes wide in disbelief, while Ollivander's normally calm expression turned to one of intense curiosity. The red dragon spiraled around Alexander's head, its tiny claws grasping at the air before landing gracefully on the counter again, settling as if it had always been there.

"W-what was that?" McGonagall stammered, still stunned by the spectacle. "I've never seen anything like it."

Ollivander, his interest piqued, took the wand gently from Alexander's hand. His eyes gleamed with fascination as he looked at the wand, as if seeing it in a new light. "What were you thinking when you waved the wand, young man?" he asked, his voice soft but full of wonder.

Alexander, still processing what had just happened, answered honestly. "I was thinking about transfiguration... and wondering if I could transform something into a creature like a dragon ."

Ollivander's smile widened, and he glanced at McGonagall, who was equally astonished. "Interesting," he mused. "Very interesting indeed. It seems your imagination guided the wand far more powerfully than we could have predicted." He looked at McGonagall, an amused gleam in his eyes. "It's not often that a first-year student demonstrates such a grasp on transfiguration, especially in such a unique way."

McGonagall, still stunned, nodded slowly. "It's certainly unusual," she said. "Even for someone learning about transfiguration. I've never seen a first-year student produce something like that, even if it was accidental. It's clear you have a strong connection to magic, Alexander."

Alexander, a bit embarrassed by the attention, looked at the tiny dragon that had now settled back into the form of the notebook on the counter. "I didn't mean to... it just happened."

Ollivander chuckled softly. "That's the thing with magic, Mr. Ravenwood. Sometimes, it's more about what you want to do than what you think you can do. Your imagination is a powerful tool, and it seems the wand you're meant to have is already sensing that potential."

McGonagall's voice was full of both wonder and caution. "It might be worth exploring your talents, Alexander, though I'd advise you not to try turning every object into a creature just yet."

Ollivander smiled at the exchange, his eyes glimmering with excitement. "You're a very intriguing young wizard, Mr. Ravenwood. Let's see if we can find a wand that matches that potential of yours."

As Alexander stood there, still a little amazed by what had just occurred, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride. It seemed his connection to magic was deeper than he had imagined — and he couldn't wait to see what other surprises the wizarding world had in store for him.

After a few more attempts with various wands, Alexander's attention was drawn to one that stood out. It was a 14-inch wand, made of Alder wood. Ollivander's eyes twinkled as he handed it over, recognizing something special in the boy's demeanor.

"Ah, this one," Ollivander said, his voice soft but sure. "Alder wood, known for its deep connection to nature, and its ability to harness the power of the elements. This particular wand contains a feather from a Thunderbird — rare and powerful. It is said to amplify the wielder's strength, especially in moments of intense emotion or when harnessing powerful magic."

As Alexander took the wand into his hand, a surge of warmth spread up his arm, as though the wand itself recognized him. He felt a connection, an almost magnetic pull, as the wand seemed to hum with power in his grasp.

Alexander waved the wand experimentally, and there was a spark — not of simple magic, but of something more primal, more alive. The air around him seemed to vibrate with energy, and a low rumble echoed through the shop, as if a distant storm was approaching. McGonagall's eyes widened as she watched, impressed by the raw energy emanating from the wand.

"It seems to have chosen you," Ollivander said with a knowing smile, his voice tinged with awe. "This wand is special, Mr. Ravenwood. It's linked to nature, to the forces of lightning and storm. And with the Thunderbird feather, it can amplify your inner power — if you learn to harness it."

Alexander, feeling the weight of the wand in his hand, looked up at McGonagall. "I think this is it. This feels... right."

McGonagall nodded, her expression thoughtful. "The wand has chosen you, Alexander. Alder wood, with its connection to nature, is a good fit for someone who seems to have such a deep curiosity about the world around him. And the Thunderbird feather... well, that's a rare and potent magic."

Ollivander smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "I believe you'll do great things with that wand, Mr. Ravenwood. It will be a companion in your journey. Just remember, the power of a wand is only as great as the wizard who wields it."

As Alexander looked at the wand, feeling its power resonate within him, he knew that this was just the beginning of his adventure. The wand had chosen him, and now he had to learn to wield its incredible power.