As the most prosperous commercial district in Britain's magical world, Diagon Alley felt somewhat ancient, somewhat worn, and decidedly crowded.
A cobblestone street ran along the ground, lined with various peculiar shops and restaurants. The street was filled with people wearing robes and pointed hats, carrying slender wooden wands. Some suddenly disappeared, others suddenly appeared. Some had owls perched on their shoulders, others carried cats or toads, and there were even various other bizarre animals or items—a real feast for the eyes.
Yake watched as someone pulled an old wardrobe from their handbag—obviously nearly ten times larger than the bag containing it—and engaged in heated discussion with a shop owner. Another person hurried down the street pulling a large pile of cargo boxes like balloons, the boxes floating overhead as they passed. He found it all quite fascinating.
By contrast, McGonagall was clearly unfazed by these sights. While introducing him to the area and Hogwarts' situation, she had him take out the book and equipment list that had come with his acceptance letter, preparing to begin shopping.
Hogwarts was currently a magical school funded and operated by Britain's Ministry of Magic, along with some board sponsorships. Its purpose was to teach young wizards who had awakened magical abilities how to control and use their magic, cultivate and develop their talents, apply various magical theories to practice, and understand, join, protect, and conceal the existence of magical society.
Attending Hogwarts basically required no tuition, and meals and accommodation were also covered, but items needed for school—wands, cauldrons, textbooks, and so forth—had to be purchased by students themselves.
Thanks to this, before attending Hogwarts, young wizards typically came to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies. It was also the only place where one could purchase everything needed for Hogwarts.
Of course, as McGonagall had said, the prerequisite was having enough money.
The currency used in the wizarding world differed from the Muggle world, consisting mainly of three types of hard currency: Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts.
These three currencies were gold, silver, and bronze coins respectively. One Galleon equaled seventeen Sickles, one Sickle equaled twenty-nine Knuts—meaning one Galleon equaled four hundred ninety-three Knuts. The exchange rate was so chaotic Yake didn't even want to complain about it.
Additionally, for Muggle-born wizards newly entering the magical world, Gringotts also provided services to exchange Muggle currency for wizard currency. It was a magical world bank run by goblins—the only designated bank—where all wizards deposited their treasures. Countless vaults existed underground at its location, reportedly even guarded by dragons.
Under McGonagall's guidance, Yake also exchanged wizard currency at Gringotts.
Unfortunately, his means were modest. Even after taking out all the money he'd earned over the past year, he only ended up with sixty-three Galleons and nine Sickles.
"That's enough," McGonagall assured him. "Galleons have considerable purchasing power. Even after buying everything you need for this trip, you'll still have a few Galleons left for pocket money."
Yake did a quick calculation and figured one Galleon's purchasing power was roughly equivalent to six or seven dollars.
After buying everything, he might still have the equivalent of just over fifteen dollars?
So little...
Unaware that Yake was lamenting his poverty, McGonagall led him directly into their official shopping trip.
Their first stop was to purchase the most important tool for any wizard—a wand.
......
Ollivanders Wand Shop.
This was a small shop that even from outside clearly appeared cramped, narrow, and shabby.
Though it looked like a high-risk building that might collapse at any moment, this was one of Europe's three major wandmakers, Diagon Alley's only wand shop, and had long dominated Britain's magical world wand supply.
According to McGonagall, Ollivanders' history could be traced back to 382 BC—a wand shop with over two thousand years of wandmaking history.
Yake didn't know if this was true or false, but he believed the shop had a long history—otherwise the storefront wouldn't look this dilapidated.
"Are you in, Garrick?"
McGonagall led Yake into the shop, calling out.
Soon, an aged voice responded.
"Well, well, look who's here!"
An old man with silvery-white eyes emerged from inside the shop. Seeing McGonagall, he broke into a delighted smile.
"Long time no see, Minerva. When those young wizards started appearing in Diagon Alley one after another, I knew it was time for you to bring new students to buy wands from me again."
As he spoke, the old man also looked at McGonagall's wand, his expression and gaze resembling a professional appraising a treasure.
"Fir wood, with a dragon heartstring core, nine and a half inches. This one is particularly well-suited for Transfiguration, and only someone with a strong will can become its true master. Seeing it, I can almost picture the scene of you purchasing it here all those years ago, Minerva."
The old man's voice was cheerful—clearly quite talkative and obviously an old acquaintance of McGonagall's.
Unfortunately, McGonagall maintained her usual stern demeanor.
"I'm sorry, Garrick. If you want to catch up, I'll come back during my holidays. For now, could you please help the young wizard beside me select a suitable wand?"
Faced with McGonagall's businesslike request, the old man showed no displeasure. Instead, he smiled even more cheerfully.
"Oh, certainly, of course, Minerva. You know, this time of year is always my happiest, because it means more wands will leave my hands to reach their true owners."
Only then did the old man look at Yake beside McGonagall, speaking with a smile.
"Hello there, young wizard. I'm Garrick Ollivander, proprietor of Ollivanders Wand Shop."
Hearing this, Yake bowed politely to the old man.
"Hello, Mr. Ollivander. My name is Yake Byrne."
"Thank you for being so courteous, Mr. Byrne." Like McGonagall, Ollivander immediately took a liking to this gentle and polite young boy, smiling warmly. "Now then, future young wizard, let me first take your measurements. Which is your wand hand?"
Yake immediately extended his right hand.
Ollivander beckoned, and several measuring tapes suddenly flew out from inside the shop, beginning to measure Yake.
"Before I help you select a wand, I must tell you, Mr. Byrne, that every wand here is different. Not only are they made from different materials, but each one is a distinct individual."
As Ollivander measured the length of Yake's wand arm, forearm, height, head circumference, and other dimensions, he continued speaking.
"Every wizard is suited to a different wand. If you use a wand meant for another wizard, or one unsuited to you, then neither you nor the wand will perform ideally, and you won't be able to cast perfect magic."
"Please remember: the wand chooses the wizard, not the wizard choosing the wand."
"I merely help with the matching—it's actually the wand that makes the choice."
Saying this, Ollivander began extracting wands from the shop's ceiling-high shelves.
Those shelves were crammed with thousands upon thousands of wands stored in long, narrow boxes. Ollivander pulled out one box and placed a wand in Yake's hand.
"Walnut wood with a unicorn feather core, nine and a half inches. This beautiful wood has exceptional flexibility and adaptability. Why don't you try this one first?"
Yake accepted the wand, examining it with some curiosity.
Holding the wand, Yake clearly felt something different.
It was as if he held not a wooden stick but a pet with distinct consciousness. Instinctively, he gave it a wave.
With a "whoosh," a beautiful rainbow traced from the tip of the wand in Yake's hand.
This strange phenomenon, however, made Ollivander frown.