Harry Potter: Shippuden

Half an hour later, standing in front of Ollivander's Wand Shop, Kyle's skeptical gaze shifted between Dumbledore and the shop's faded sign.

"Is this the legendary 'cheat code' marketplace—I mean, wand shop?"

The shop looked small and shabby, with peeling gold letters on the sign that read: Ollivander: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

In the shop window, a single wand lay on a faded purple cushion.

"Appearances can be deceiving," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. "Ollivander is the best wandmaker in Britain, and one of the finest in Europe."

Pushing the door open, Kyle stepped inside.

The shop was tiny, with nothing but a long bench in the corner.

Thousands of narrow boxes containing wands were stacked from floor to ceiling, all covered in a thin layer of dust.

A bell chimed as they entered, and a white-haired head popped out from behind a stack of boxes. Upon seeing Dumbledore, the man's face lit up with enthusiasm.

"Dumbledore! Welcome, welcome! It's such a pleasure to see you!" As for Kyle, he was momentarily ignored.

The old man approached them, his pale eyes shining like two moons in the dim shop. Only then did he notice Kyle.

"My word, is this—?" Ollivander stared at Kyle's heterochromatic eyes, then looked at Dumbledore as if seeking confirmation.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Ollivander, it's exactly what you're thinking."

Kyle's eyes were extremely rare, and to a wandmaker who had spent his life dealing with all kinds of wizards, Kyle's identity was impossible to hide.

With his suspicions confirmed, Ollivander rubbed his hands together excitedly and pulled out a tape measure marked with silver increments from his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Right."

From shoulder to fingertip, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and finally, head circumference.

As he measured, Ollivander rambled on: "Every Ollivander wand contains a powerful magical substance, which is the essence of its power."

"We use unicorn hair, phoenix feathers, and dragon heartstrings."

"Every Ollivander wand is unique, because no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are exactly alike."

"Of course, if you were to use a wand that belonged to another wizard, it would never work as well."

Kyle wondered if Ollivander gave this spiel to every wizard.

Watching Ollivander's mysterious process, Kyle couldn't help but ask, "Why do you need to measure all this to buy a wand?"

"Because every Ollivander wand is unique. To find the right wand for you, I need to measure your arm length, forearm length, height, head circumference, and so on, then select a wand based on these parameters."

Hearing Ollivander's explanation, Kyle thought for a moment, then extended his arms.

He placed his left hand on his right arm, gave a sharp tug, and with a crack, his right arm dislocated.

Seeing Kyle's arm now a few centimeters longer, Ollivander's face darkened.

Dumbledore, trying not to laugh, turned his face away, then looked back, feeling a pang of sympathy.

"Episkey." With a wave of Dumbledore's wand, Kyle's arm snapped back into place.

"Sorry about that, sir. Can we continue?"

Hearing Kyle's words, Ollivander opened his mouth with difficulty, his voice dry. "Oh, yes."

After decades of making and selling wands, Ollivander had seen it all—or so he thought.

This? This was new.