The Gringotts trip was a quick one, this was definitely a practiced route for someone of McGonagall's tenure. She dragged me around the magical streets, unfortunately the magic was lost on me, literally.
Perhaps I'd be in awe if I had never personally experienced magic or anything supernatural, but the other world and my other form had desensitized me to such things. McGonagall was a sharp witch, I didn't need her thinking so I acted.
My acting ability was already profound before I transmigrated here, but with Sauron's charisma I was a master class.
It was a quick experience, quicker than Harry's I presume, seeing as I'm had no money to gather from a subterranean vault and no desire for unneeded supplies like pets. Our final destination was one I actually awaited, Olivanders.
As I stepped into the shop my eye sight was immediately met with a the sight of a hundreds of wand laden shelves cramped into this tall and tight room.
A sharp staircase spiraled up to a second floor, my eyes moved left in the same way one would read a book. My eyes landed on an elderly man, behind him were rows of shelves full of wand boxes of varying design.
Some were a dark brown-black encased in studded leather some were bright red with golden entails. All together much more intriguing than anything else I've seen so far in this alley.
Everything else was rather mundane, buying robes and pots and useless stuff of that variety, and I mean useless in the grander image of things and my world had only been grand since my rebirth.
McGonagall ushered me in forward and too the counter, a withered old man looked down on me his face full of jolly and joy.
"And just who might you be, a Hogwarts student no doubt but who?"
"My name is Nathan, Nathan Rabenklaues, I need a wand"
A laugh danced on the old man's lips, "Well then let us find it, I sense a queer feel about you" he strolled backwards running his hands along the many rectangular boxes.
With no give away he stopped placing his hand on a wand box the color of diluted blood. Olivander ran his hand over the top before grabbing it In a tight grip, his other hand followed from the bottom.
He cantered over to me once in reach he slid the box onto the counter and gently removed its cover revealing an ash wand of simple make, seemed more like a twig than a conduit of magical power.
"May I hold it?"
"Why of course, and give it a twirl while your at it"
This seemed horribly unmanaged something was likely to go wrong here. I rolled the wand into my fingers and pointed it in the general direction of the remains of a broke. vase.
"The core is unknown to me, but I doubt it's dangerous, it has had an unusually low response, I am quite the professed wizard and I could not figure it out my colleagues less so but more numerous and it did not budge for them" I paused to listen to his words.
With a Twirl of my wrist a shimmer came upon the air between my wand and the broken vase. It seemed to have repaired itself, there was no motion it was just repaired. Repair didn't seem the word either, when something is repaired there's usually an indication, it was truly good as new. At least that's what it would look like to anyone besides myself, I had inadvertently cast a glamor to hide the ugliness of the clay-red vase.
Despite its appearance the Vase was not fixed, still broken. A curious look came upon Olivander he seemed queasy as he reached a shaky hand out. The weak glamor gave way and the vase went back to its broken state.
"Curious" He murmured.
That spell didn't seem the only one in this room, the air became nervous in an inexplicable way. McGonagall roved a hand over my shoulder as she leaned forward to give Olivander his coin.
He eyed the shiny metal, its golden glint reflected over his brown iris. Olivander gestured me and I returned the wand, he swiftly repackaged it and gave it too McGonagall.
Olivander swiped the gold pieces up in his hand with a practiced motion, after that he stalked away to the back of the shop.
"That would be the last of your shopping needs" McGonagall ushered me away.
-----------5 Hours later---------
Olivander let the smooth trickle of tea sooth his nerves. Wand making was a rough business, the constant ministry inspections and audits, the only good to come from it was the money.
More wands sold equaled more money, and un-taxable money. But this money isn't consistent, the Ministry is in a death spiral it has been, Voldemort was the straw that broke the camel's back.
The Ministry had always been inefficient, for his entire life he watched dark magicians slip through the many cracks and cause harm to good folk.
That boy he saw today, there was something off with him, his senility of magic was off from others dancing to its own tune, this boy was likewise off tune playing a fiddle where the rest of the orchestra was brass. The boy, Nathan, was squeaking in with the trumpets.
The wand was his greatest clue to this evil, it was dangerous despite its simple looks, the core had come from an Albino thestral's tail hair. Thestral hair wands were known to have an affinity for those willing and ready to face death, that in of itself told a lot about Nathan. But Albino? Albino variants of wand cores had random effects on the 'spirit' of the wand.
Something bad was to come of him or around him, to be sure all this rumination wouldn't do anything. He wasn't gonna do anything either, he was conflicted over the wand, the random effect might be a great boon to this 'child' he just wanted to make quota and he might've given that beast a weapon of devastation.
He threw his arms across the table, swiping off everything and shattering the Tea cup, shambling over to a cabinet he threw it open and grabbed desperately at the fire-whiskey.
That damn boy!! I had promised to not touch alcohol!! why is he making me do this?! His last name too, something was of with it, something was off with everything!!