MCU- Superman(HP)

Author: HAPPY HOLI TO ALL MY READERS

Shopping for Supplies 

After securing his money and learning about wizarding currency, Harry and Bathsheba finished gathering supplies and robes. The weight of his own gold in his pockets made everything feel more real—he wasn't just some poor boy from Privet Drive anymore. He had resources. Power. And soon, he'd have his wand. 

"All that's left now is your wand," Bathsheba said as they stopped outside a narrow, old-looking shop with a sign that read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C. 

Unlike the other shops in Diagon Alley, which bustled with customers, Ollivanders felt eerily silent. The wooden door creaked slightly as it moved in the faint breeze, and through the dusty window, rows upon rows of small, stacked boxes filled the dimly lit space. 

"I'll handle your potions kit and make sure you get the best ingredients available," Bathsheba continued. "Go ahead and get your wand. I'll meet you when you're done." 

Harry turned and stepped inside the shop. 

---

Meeting Mr. Ollivander 

The moment he entered, a soft bell chimed, and a frail-looking old man emerged from the shadows of the tall shelves. His silvery eyes gleamed with something unreadable, and his thin fingers twitched slightly, as if he were measuring Harry just by looking at him. 

"Ah, Mr. Potter," the man greeted, his voice a whispery drawl. "I was wondering when I'd be seeing you. Yesterday, I had the pleasure of selling your mother her first wand— ten and a quarter inches, willow, unicorn hair. Quite a fine wand for charm work. " 

Harry remained silent as Ollivander glided across the shop, his bony hands already plucking boxes from the shelves. 

"Your father, on the other hand— eleven inches, mahogany, pliable, with a dragon heartstring core. An excellent wand for Transfiguration. " Ollivander sighed almost wistfully. "I recall each and every wand I have ever sold." 

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that. He simply watched as the old man began stacking several boxes on the counter. 

"Let's see… try this one." 

Harry took the first wand—a nine-inch beechwood wand with a phoenix feather core. He barely had time to grip it before a nearby stack of parchment exploded into shreds. 

Ollivander quickly snatched it back. "Not that one." 

He muttered something about balance and compatibility before handing Harry another— a longer, more rigid oak wand with a unicorn hair core. 

This time, the shelves rattled violently before Harry even flicked it. 

"No, no, no." Ollivander shook his head, snatching it away again. "Curious… very curious." 

Minutes passed as they went through more wands—each one reacting chaotically, some even sparking with faint golden embers before being deemed unsuitable. 

Harry was starting to wonder if something was wrong with him. 

Then, after a moment's pause, Ollivander's expression turned thoughtful. 

"Perhaps…" he murmured before walking into the backroom. 

---

A Wand Unlike Any Other 

When Ollivander returned, he carried a dusty, black box —unlike the others, this one looked much older, its corners worn as if it had sat undisturbed for years. 

"This… this is an unusual wand," he murmured, carefully lifting the dark, polished wood wand from its velvet case. It had an almost obsidian sheen, and Harry felt an odd pull toward it. 

He reached out, and the moment his fingers wrapped around the handle— 

A surge of warmth spread through his body. It wasn't just warmth, though. It was power. Energy. Something deep within him seemed to hum in recognition. 

Ollivander's silver eyes gleamed. "Ah… fascinating." 

Harry turned the wand in his hand, feeling the way it seemed to mold to his grip perfectly. Unlike the others, this one felt like an extension of himself. 

"What's it made of?" Harry asked. 

" Black Dragonwood, twelve inches. " Ollivander ran a hand down the wand's length. "A rather rare material—it comes from the heartwood of a tree that only grows in enchanted dragon territories. Exceptionally strong, resistant to breaking, and known for its… unique magical properties." 

"What about the core?" 

Ollivander hesitated. 

"One of its cores is from a dragon—a very rare breed known for its, er… strong desires. It's exceptionally powerful, especially in Transfiguration and enchantments." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Strong desires?" 

The old man gave him a meaningful look. "It has an affinity for magic related to attraction and seduction. " 

Harry smirked. That could be useful. 

"But—" Ollivander continued, his voice grave, "—it also contains a second core. Something even rarer." 

Harry frowned. "What is it?" 

Ollivander leaned forward. "A single Veela hair. " 

Harry blinked. "A Veela hair? As in…?" 

"As in the magical creatures whose beauty and allure can bewitch even the most disciplined of minds," Ollivander confirmed. "This is a wand that does not merely channel magic, Mr. Potter—it enhances influence. Charms cast with it will have deeper effects, emotions stirred with it will be far stronger, and, well… its owner tends to develop a natural magnetism. " 

Harry twirled the wand between his fingers, thinking. 

So, he had a wand that was powerful, dangerous, and could make people more… drawn to him? 

Yeah. That sounded perfect. 

---

Finalizing the Purchase 

"Well, Mr. Potter, I believe we've found your wand." 

Harry handed over the required galleons, still admiring the wand in his hand. It felt… right. 

"I can't wait to use it," he said with a grin. 

As he left the shop, he saw Bathsheba waiting outside, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. 

"Have fun in there?" she asked. 

Harry twirled the wand lazily. "Oh, loads. Almost blew up a vase." 

She shook her head, amused. "At least you didn't bring the shop down." 

"I make no promises," he said cheekily. 

---

A Gift from Bathsheba 

Just then, Harry noticed something small and feathery shifting in Bathsheba's hands. 

She handed it over. "For you." 

Harry blinked. It was a snowy-white owl. 

"For me?" he asked, surprised. 

She smiled. "You'll need one for Hogwarts. Besides, I figured you could use a companion." 

Harry stroked the owl's soft feathers. "She's… amazing." 

"Good. She was the prettiest one there. And the feistiest," Bathsheba added with a smirk. "Reminds me of someone." 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Gee, wonder who that could be." 

She laughed, watching as the owl hooted softly in Harry's hands. 

"Have you thought of a name?" Bathsheba asked. 

"I'll decide later," Harry said. "It has to be something we both like." 

Bathsheba chuckled. "That's sweet of you." 

---

End of Chapter 27