The Boundless Journey

"So, this is Ollivanders? It's quite a small shop. Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Max.

"Yeah, this is the one. It was founded in 382 BC, and it has stood here ever since. So, I'm pretty sure this is it," said Harry.

The shop was small, painted a darkish green, with a large window at the front allowing passersby to peer inside and admire the various wands on display.

Each wand was unique, crafted with different cores, wood types, lengths, and many other factors. Finding the right wand for a witch or wizard was a challenge, but the Ollivanders had a keen eye for determining the perfect match.

Harry led the way inside, with Max following closely behind and Echo right behind him. The moment they stepped in, the lively hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley disappeared, replaced by an eerie silence.

From the back of the shop, a voice called out.

"Welcome to Ollivanders. How may I help you?"

An old man with white hair emerged from behind the towering shelves filled with countless wand boxes.

"Oh my, if it isn't Harry Potter. If I remember correctly, I gave you your wand two years ago. Are you in need of a new one?" the old man asked in a soft, kindly voice.

"No, sir, not at all. The wand you gave me is still safe with me, and let me tell you, it has helped me on many occasions," Harry replied.

"I'm delighted to hear that, Mr. Potter. So, what brings you here today?"

"This is my friend Max. He needs a wand. He's new around here, so I'm showing him around," Harry said before turning to Max. "And this is Mr. Ollivander, the one who helped me choose the perfect wand."

Max stepped forward politely. "Hello, sir. I'm Max Benz. I just arrived in the city a few days ago, so I'm still new to all of this. Please forgive me if I make any mistakes."

"I'm Echo. Nice to meet you," Echo added in a loud voice.

Ollivander's eyes widened. "Oh my, are you perhaps an Animagus?"

"Yes. He's the one who raised me," Max replied, his voice steady despite the lie. "He saved me after I lost my parents to some Death Eaters. He's been my savior. But after a horrible magical experiment, he was unexpectedly transformed into this. We're still searching for a cure, but so far, no luck." Max forced a weak smile, hoping the story was convincing.

Ollivander's expression softened. "Oh, I am truly sorry to hear that. I hope you recover soon, sir. Now then, let's see what kind of wand we can find for you."

The old wandmaker studied Max carefully, his gaze piercing as if he were looking into his very soul. "Hmm… interesting. I've never seen anyone quite like you. And your surname, Benz—it's not one I've heard before. Perhaps an old, forgotten family... I think this might work."

Ollivander turned and walked toward the back of the shop, weaving through the towering shelves. After a brief moment of searching, he pulled out a long, dusty box that looked untouched for centuries.

"This wand was crafted by one of the finest wizards and has remained here for generations. It has never found a wielder—until now."

He opened the box, revealing what appeared to be an ordinary wooden stick at first glance. But to a trained eye, the wand exuded a mighty yet mysterious aura that would leave any witch or wizard in awe.

"This wand is eleven inches long with a dragon heartstring core. The dragon it came from had several siblings, but none were as powerful as this one. This was the first wand crafted from its heartstring."

"Cool! A dragon heartstring core? Mine has a phoenix feather," Harry said excitedly. "It's said that wands with dragon cores are incredibly powerful. Why don't you give it a try?"

"Alright, no harm in trying," Max said, reaching for the wand.

The moment his fingers wrapped around it, he felt a strange sensation, as if something was probing inside him, searching for something deep within.

"Go on, give it a wave," Ollivander encouraged.

Max raised the wand and flicked it in the air.

Suddenly, the wand started to shake violently, and an excruciating pain shot through Max's chest.

"Ahhh… aahhh!" Max clutched his chest tightly as the pain spread through his body. The wand trembled even more, and a faint light began to glow at its tip. His body was drenched in sweat.

It felt like thousands of needles were piercing his skin, but at the center of it all—his heart—there was no damage, only an overwhelming pressure.

"Max! Max, are you alright?" Harry shouted in panic. "What's happening, Mr. Ollivander? Please help him!"

"I… I don't know what's going on," Ollivander admitted, his voice laced with shock. "This has never happened before!"

Harry knelt beside Max, trying to pry the wand from his hand, but it wouldn't budge. It was as if the wand had chosen to finish what it had started.

Ollivander rushed over, his face filled with concern, but before he could do anything, Echo dashed forward. Seeing Max in pain, he couldn't just stand by.

Without thinking, Echo reached for the wand. The moment he did, the divine energy inside his body reacted.

A golden light began flowing from him, drawn toward the wand like a magnet.

Echo didn't understand what was happening, but he knew one thing—he had to help Max.

As the golden energy surged, the entire shop lit up, glowing like a miniature sun, radiating light without restraint. Both Harry and Mr. Ollivander were stunned by what was going on in the shop. The golden light flow was so mesmerizing that they could at their eyes from it, it was just divine.