"What's that? It looks like a coin..."
Maca toyed with the object in his hand, replaying the eerie blue light he'd just seen. He temporarily set aside his plan to leave and pulled a broken piece of wood from another large crate nearby.
He feigned curiosity, asking a question. After listening to the short wizard's vague explanation, he showed some interest and inquired about the price.
"Ten Gold Galleons! It's definitely worth ten Gold Galleons. It's worth it, you see how rare it is…"
Seeing the goblin was about to launch into another sales pitch, Maca had to wave his hand to cut him off. He countered with a price, "Three Gold Galleons. As far as I know, it's only worth three."
Maca's tone was unusually firm, as if he knew the true value of this so-called "Herpo's Coffin."
"No! That's impossible! At the very least, eight Gold Galleons! You must understand, the infamous dark wizard – the vile Herpo the Foul, was buried in…"
Maca didn't let him finish. "Four Gold Galleons! That's my final offer!"
The goblin behind the counter opened his mouth as if to protest, but Maca cut him off. Pretending to be exasperated, he reached into a gap in the shelves and pulled out an item. "Alright! I'll take this too. Eight Gold Galleons for both! Otherwise, I'm leaving!"
Maca slammed eight Gold Galleons onto the counter and glared at the goblin.
The goblin fell silent. He looked from the item in Maca's hand to the eight Gold Galleons. He wore a look of utter dejection.
The item was an old, tarnished coin. It felt heavy in his palm, but it looked dirty and unremarkable.
"Fine, fine. Consider it a gift. Eight Gold Galleons," the goblin muttered, and then stashed the coins in a locked drawer.
Back on the street, Maca was in high spirits. He played with the old coin in his hand, a smug grin on his face. The dark alley seemed brighter now.
Of course, he didn't see the same smug smile on the goblin's face back in Melo's Emporium.
"Arrogance is humanity's most precious treasure; it allows Melo to profit," the short wizard said with a look of ecstasy, patting the drawer full of money, which caused a clinking sound of Gold Galleons.
The old coin in Maca's hand was, of course, enchanted by this dwarf. In fact, it was just a dirty cast-iron coin.
Leaving aside the merchant's trickery, Maca, feeling satisfied, figured the time was about right, so he started walking back the way he came.
"Eh?"
Maca arrived at the fork in the road and immediately saw a tall figure in the crowd, walking out of the Gringotts entrance.
"Rubeus Hagrid?" Maca muttered, walking over there.
After he squeezed through the crowded people, he immediately spotted the small figure beside Hagrid.
"Oh! Excuse me, are you the famous… Mr. Harry Potter?" Maca deliberately sized the boy up and down before speaking.
The boy didn't even have time to react before the people around them started crowding in.
"Oh, my goodness, it's Harry Potter!"
"Really? Oh—!"
"Good heavens! I feel like I'm dreaming!"
The crowd immediately erupted in a flurry of whispers, some even pushing forward as if they had spotted a rare magical creature.
Maca looked around, then immediately grabbed Harry's sleeve and started running, motioning for Hagrid to hurry and follow. Only after they'd ducked into the junk shop did Maca and Harry breathe a sigh of relief.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't expect them to react like that," Maca said apologetically.
"Oh, it's nothing," Harry, looking at Maca, who was the same age as him, shook his head. "But why? This is the second time. Am I famous or something?"
Maca glanced at Hagrid and nodded as if he understood.
"Well… I'm sorry, but it doesn't seem like I should be the one explaining this to you." Maca scratched his head, though he was just too lazy to elaborate.
Just as Harry was about to ask further questions, Hagrid had already come over.
"Alright, alright, now that we're here, why don't we go buy a wand first!" Hagrid patted Maca on the shoulder and said happily, "You come along too! Uh…"
"Maca, Maca Maclean." Maca said, nodding.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Maclean." Hagrid nodded as well.
"No, I mean, just call me Maca."
Maca said, suddenly putting his hand on Hagrid's butt. He immediately realized this and felt a moment of embarrassment.
"My goodness, you're tall!" To ease the awkwardness, Maca deliberately raised his voice.
Hagrid gave an embarrassed chuckle at the comment, but didn't say anything.
Maca then realized that Hagrid was probably still sensitive about his heritage. Of course, knowing Hagrid's personality, he was probably more concerned about how the children perceived him, rather than his own bloodline.
Seeing this, Maca immediately put his hand back, not caring whether it was his backside or shoulder. He smiled easily and said, "A Goblin at Gringotts said the same thing to me earlier."
"Hahaha! You're not much taller than a Goblin at your age," Hagrid wasn't stupid, he clearly realized that Maca was deliberately trying to ease the tension.
Harry, standing to the side, looked at the two of them, a little puzzled. He couldn't figure out what they were talking about, but he felt the atmosphere was a little strange.
"Alright, let's go! We'll go to Ollivanders across the street, you'll definitely be able to buy the best Wand there."
Yes, a Wand – this was exactly what Maca and Harry both longed for.
This was a shop that looked shabby and worn. The gold lettering on the door had flaked away, but it still read: "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."
In the dusty window, a single wand rested on a faded purple cushion.
As they entered the shop, a tinkling sound came from somewhere in the back. The shop was small, with nothing but a long bench.
Hagrid sat down on the bench to wait, while Harry felt a strange sensation, as if he were in a very strict library.
He suppressed the myriad of questions that had just popped into his mind and began to look at the thousands of narrow boxes stacked almost to the ceiling. For some reason, he suddenly felt a chill. The dust and silence seemed to suggest that there was a hidden magic.
"Good afternoon," a soft voice said, startling Harry.
Hagrid, who was sitting, also seemed quite startled, as a loud crack sounded, and he quickly stood up from the bench.
An old man stood before them, his pale eyes shining brightly like two moons in the dim shop.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander," Maca greeted politely.
Harry looked a bit reserved, but he followed Maca's lead and said, "Hello."
"Ah, yes," the old man said, "yes, yes. I knew I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter, no question. Your eyes are just like your mother's. It seems like only yesterday she came in here to buy her first Wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, made of willow, swishy, good for spellcasting."
Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry, who wished he would blink a little more; those pale, silvery eyes were making him feel quite uneasy.
"Your father, now, he preferred a mahogany Wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power, excellent for Transfiguration. I say your father preferred it — in fact, of course, the Wand chooses the wizard!"
Mr. Ollivander seemed to have forgotten Maca entirely, getting closer and closer to Harry, his nose practically touching Harry's face. Harry could even see his own reflection in the old man's cloudy eyes.
"Oh, this is..." Mr. Ollivander's long, pale fingers brushed Harry's lightning-shaped scar.
"I'm very sorry," he whispered. "It was a Wand of mine that did it. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... If I'd known what that Wand would do..."
Mr. Ollivander sighed softly, but then looked up behind Harry. He seemed to recognize Hagrid, which finally put Harry at ease.
"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! It's so good to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, slightly bendy, right?"
"That's right, sir," Hagrid said.
"That was a good wand. But I imagine they snapped it when they expelled you?" Mr. Ollivander asked, suddenly serious.
"Ah, yes, they did," Hagrid said slowly, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces."
"But you don't use it, do you?" Mr. Ollivander asked quickly.
"Oh, no, sir," Hagrid replied quickly, and Harry noticed Hagrid clutching the pink umbrella tightly as he spoke.
Of course, Maca didn't have time to pay attention to Hagrid's pathetic umbrella, because Ollivander had finally turned his gaze towards him.
"Oh, a new face. Hello, child." Mr. Ollivander didn't seem as interested in Maca as he had been in Harry, which was understandable. After all, Maca didn't have any extraordinary background that everyone knew about. "What's your name?"
"Maca Maclean," Maca replied.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Maclean." Mr. Ollivander said, his sharp eyes flicking between the two of them. "Well, which of you gentlemen would like to go first?"
He pulled a long, silver-measuring-tape-marked ruler from his pocket, a serious look on his face. Maca patted Harry on the back, signaling for him to go first.
....
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