Ten years later.

Bathilda Bagshot, the author of "A History of Magic", was undoubtedly a great educator. Under her great guidance, the eleven-year-old Anriel felt that he seemed to be able to directly take the OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Levels) exam in the History of Magic.

But what first-year student cares about the history of Ottery St. Catchpole or when the International Statute of Secrecy came into effect?

It is worth mentioning that one of Anriel’s two “fathers” once devoted himself to overturning this ridiculous law.

The old ideas about how wizards should survive in the cracks of Muggle society, whether to coexist peacefully or enslave Muggles... and so on.

Objectively speaking, Anriel felt that what his cheap father, whom he had never met, said was right.

......

"That law makes us like rats in a sewer! That law makes us hide our true selves! That law makes those it governs cower in fear, lest we reveal our identities!"

—Gellert Grindelwald

......

Although there is no reproductive isolation between wizards and Muggles, it is obvious that they can almost be called two different species.

When individual power is gathered in a small number of people but cannot exceed the threshold, the emotion produced by the weak majority is not called "worship" but "fear."

Forget it, let’s not talk about these painful and sad stories, let’s talk about something else:

For example, in preschool, Bathilda seemed to have discovered little Anriel's magical potential prematurely, and tried to get him to cast some advanced spells without a wand (or using Bathilda's own wand).

It was obvious that Anriel's behavior surprised her. It was not consistent with the behavior of a newborn in a wizard family.

Of course, we might as well make a bold assumption, as a real time traveler, and with the ability of plug-in -

Is there a possibility that:

Anriel knew these spells and could use them skillfully, but he didn't want to be used as a guinea pig.

An owl landed in front of Anriel, and the envelope in its claws fell to his feet...

-----------------

"Calm down kid, I know this is your first time at school, but just relax, it's just-"

Anriel rolled his eyes. He didn't want to do it, but it seemed like Bathilda was even more nervous than him...

"The Leaky Cauldron... The Leaky Cauldron... Yes, this is it!"

Apart from the fact that she looked a little bit neurotic, Bathilda Bagshot's Muggle attire was impeccable, like a shrewd and capable old Muggle lady who could haggle for an hour just to buy vegetables.

"Borrowed it, borrowed it!"

Bar owner Tom stood behind the bar, trying hard to recall the name of the familiar old lady.

"Hey, Tom, two bottles of butterbeer! Uh, one!"

Bathilda looked at Anriel, who was only eleven years old, and changed her words.

"Oh, hell, you're Bathilda, Bathilda Bagshot."

Tom finally remembered the old man's identity and smiled with his gap-toothed mouth:

"What are you doing here in this shabby place when you have nothing to do?"

"To Diagon Alley, of course. My grandson is going to Hogwarts this year!"

"Your grandson? Oh my God, I've never heard that you have a son, hahahaha..."

Bathilda cursed a few indecent words under her breath, waved her wand, and the cork of the butterbeer hit the back of the hand of the boss Tom. It seemed just a little joke. Of course, no one cared much about this little joke. Under the stare of the old lady, the boss Tom smiled and took Anriel's hand and walked towards the small dead end leading to Diagon Alley.

Who would have thought that a skinny old lady could be so generous...

Bathilda's youthful energy seemed to be restored with the arrival of the child Anriel.

The two walked into the alley, and Old Tom retreated. Anriel quickly followed Bathilda. All he could hear along the way was her mumbling:

"Three pieces on the left... two pieces... Merlin's beard. I almost forgot how to get into Diagon Alley..."

"Damn it, I didn't have so many messed up books when I was in school!"

"A book like 'Dark Powers: A Guide to Self-Defense' that should be on the toilet paper holder can be used as a textbook? That's terrible! The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is probably another good-for-nothing."

"A History of Magic... Hmm, something I compiled myself, Anriel! Page 97, line 11, contains a brief history of Gringotts and the beginning and end dates of the Goblin Rebellion!"

Anriel was stunned, and began to recite, with ten thousand alpacas running wildly in his mind.

Thanks for the invitation. I’m already annoyed. I’m just buying a book, why do you need to take a random test?

-----------------

"Go to Ollivanders first, then go to Gringotts to get the money."

Bathilda made a decision and walked into a small, shabby store with Anriel.

[Ollivander: Making exquisite wands since 382 BC]

Countless cardboard boxes were piled up to the ceiling. In the dim light, they cast rows of shadows, obscuring Ollivander's thin body.

"Wele...ah..."

Ollivander pushed up his glasses and asked uncertainly:

"Ms. Bathilda? Bathilda Bagshot?"

"It's me. I brought my little grandson here to buy a wand."

Ollivander did not tell Bathilda's wand material, length and core like he did with other customers.

From the original book, it seems that Ollivander recognizes people by their wands.

Anriel had an illusion that Bathilda's wand might have been sold by Ollivander's father, or even his grandfather.

After taking a closer look at Anriel's face, Ollivander turned around and took a bundle of measuring tapes from the shelf.

"Let me see... Mr. Bagshot, which arm do you prefer?"

The magic measuring tape flew up and automatically measured Anriel's body data. Anriel raised his left arm, and the measuring tape flew up and wrapped around it.

"Okay, okay, let me see... Cherry wood, twelve inches, moderate toughness, dragon nerve... Give it a try?"

Anriel took the wand, and a string of sparks flew from the tip of the wand, igniting a piece of white paper in front of Ollivander and burning the old man's pitifully thin beard.

Anriel was apparently as picky as Mr. Potter, and even Ollivander couldn't easily find a wand that suited him.

"Oh, Merlin's wool socks, obviously not... let me look... white oak, nine and a half inches, with a core of... ahem, a phoenix feather."

Anriel waved his magic wand, and the tip of the wand made an explosion, as if trying to escape from Anriel's "magic clutches"...

"Sh ...

"Here, this one—holly, eleven inches long, with phoenix tail feathers."

Anriel thought it sounded familiar and did not take the wand immediately.

Ollivander put the wand in his hand, and it immediately made a sound like a short circuit, which scared Ollivander so much that he quickly pulled it out.

Angel remembered that, damn it, he was exactly one year older than Harry.

This wand should belong to Harry Potter, not him.

Ollivander came down from the counter and disappeared behind the container with a thump, and no one knew where he went.

Anriel cast a questioning look at Bathilda.

"It's no use looking at me, but Ollivander's has always been a one-person-one-sale business. As long as you don't go out, the store door will not be opened to let a customer in -

It's not just Garrick Ollivander, this has almost been the principle that the Ollivander family has adhered to for generations."

"In contrast, I have mentioned in the sixth chapter of History of Magic and in Muggle Social Theory written by Miss Caridi Burbagi that whether in our wizarding world or in Muggle society, this phenomenon called Monopoly has certain privileges..."

Anriel's head began to hurt, and he wisely chose to ignore his grandmother's long speech, in exchange for a slap in the face and a brief moment of peace.

A few minutes later, Ollivander returned with a cloth bag.

"Sorry for the wait, Ms. Bagshot. Come, child, try this one."

Anriel took the wand from Ollivander, and the moment he touched it, he was sure that this was what he would take away from the store today.

Ollivander's explanation came at the right time:

"It's a precious material given to me by some of my Chinese friends. It's lacquered wood and thirteen inches. Although it's not auspicious, it's the best length for casting spells."

"Its core is made of two nerves, tightly entangled together - I don't know what happened to create this...

A Tibetan imperial eagle and a slender-scaled taipan. Of course, these two creatures would never be together. Their habitats are nearly 100,000 meters apart. I have never understood the behavior of putting two creatures that are born incompatible together... huh?"

Ollivander shut his mouth because he saw that the wand in Anriel's hand emitted a faint fluorescence, and it seemed as if there were elves singing in the air -

Of course, not the domestic kind.

"Marvelous, truly marvelous - thirty Galleons, one of my treasured wands."

Bathilda paid the money readily and led Anriel, who was still immersed in the afterglow of his connection with the wand, out of Ollivander's Wand Shop.

"Should you call me, Anriel Albus Dumbledore Gellert Grindelwald..."

Bathilda recalled the time when she had brought two energetic young people together. She had never questioned whether her move was right or not. Although this incident had created a disaster, it had also produced one of the greatest wizards in the wizarding world.

Anriel's mouth twitched, and he wanted to say:

Ma'am, your intuition is spot on.

But is this naming method serious? The half-christian name is taken up by the father's name! Where is the godfather? Take care of it...

Wait, I don’t seem to have a godfather…

Uh……

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