Chapter 203
"That beautiful lady over there, please step a little closer to the front," the photographer called, waving his hand. This photograph would likely appear on the front page, and it needed to catch the public's eye.
Fleur Delacour reluctantly moved forward, her expression clearly impatient.
At that moment, Rita Skeeter leaned in and whispered something into the photographer's ear. He nodded in understanding and continued, "Mr. Malfoy, please step forward as well. Madame Maxime, if you could lower your head slightly."
After quite a bit of rearranging—and even taking individual portraits of each Champion—the session finally came to an end.
"Goodbye, Malfoy. I think I'll have a little surprise for you in a couple of days," Fleur said with a smile before hurrying out of the room to find her sister.
"Mr. Ollivander, please wait."
Just as Garrick Ollivander was about to leave, Malfoy called out to him.
"I'd like to ask you about twin wands. Do you have a moment?"
"Oh!" Ollivander shook his head, suddenly animated in a way that didn't match his age. "Of course, of course. My pleasure! It's rare to find someone interested in wandlore these days!"
He spoke eagerly and took a seat.
Malfoy poured him a cup of tea and placed it respectfully in front of him. The conversation began.
"Wands are mysterious—unfathomable," Ollivander said with a sigh. "In my entire life, I've only glimpsed a fraction of their secrets. And yet, even with such limited understanding, I am already so sought after…"
It sounded like both pride and regret.
"What use is it, though? There is no one to whom I can pass on my knowledge." He shook his head.
"You could find a successor," Malfoy suggested. "With your reputation, countless apprentices would come."
"Mediocrity has no place in this field," Ollivander said firmly, clenching his fists. "Wandlore is as vast as the sea. The knowledge alone deters most. I will not tarnish my name by letting unworthy hands craft unsuitable wands for my customers."
Malfoy didn't know how to judge him—was this rigid stubbornness, or admirable integrity?
Perhaps only Ollivander himself could answer that in the end.
"Every wand is unique," Ollivander continued, growing more animated. "Even two wands made from identical materials will never be exactly the same—at best, they may resemble one another. The individuality of the wizard shapes the wand, and in turn, the wand influences the wizard."
He spoke endlessly, energized by his own field.
"Even twin wands?" Malfoy asked, finally steering the conversation to his real question.
Ollivander paused, clearly surprised.
"You know that term?" He stood up and began pacing slowly around the table. "Yes—even twin wands are no exception."
"I've heard that when two twin wands are used against each other, they won't behave normally. Instead, a rare phenomenon occurs—Priori Incantatem. One wand forces the other to echo its previous spells… starting from the most recent and going backward."
Malfoy revealed what he knew—but it wasn't enough. He wanted more.
"Yes, Priori Incantatem," Ollivander said, eyes widening with approval. "You are quite knowledgeable, Mr. Malfoy. If not for your father's objections, I would have taken you as my apprentice."
He smiled, then slowly sat back down.
His pale eyes gleamed with insight.
"But what if they are not enemies?" Malfoy pressed. "What if two wizards with twin wands fight the same opponent?"
"Ah, an excellent question," Ollivander said, smiling faintly. "And not a secret worth hiding."
"The answer is—their power can increase tenfold."
Malfoy's expression shifted instantly. His mind raced, already forming possibilities.
"But the conditions are extremely strict—ah, no, no. Stop," Ollivander said quickly, raising a hand. "I can already guess what you're thinking."
"What am I thinking?" Malfoy asked, curious.
"You're imagining finding a unicorn, plucking its hair, and mass-producing dozens—hundreds—of twin wands," Ollivander said, his lips twitching before he burst into laughter.
"You're as reckless as I was in my youth!" he added approvingly.
"But it's impossible. Every magical creature produces only a single strand suitable for wand cores. Only a few rare creatures are exceptions."
"Such as?" Malfoy asked, though disappointment was already creeping in.
He already knew the answer—Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. The only known source of twin cores.
"There are no easy shortcuts," Malfoy thought, sighing inwardly. For a moment, he had imagined creating entire teams empowered by such wands.
Even if abandoning one's original wand weakened a wizard, the amplification might have outweighed the loss.
But reality shut that idea down.
"Alright," Malfoy said with a shrug. "I suppose I was being naive. Besides, if I actually tried that, the poor unicorn would probably curse me for life out of sheer indignation."
"What an interesting young man," Ollivander said, narrowing his eyes with satisfaction. "It's rare to find someone willing to indulge an old man like me in conversation."
"Thank you for your answers," Malfoy said, bowing slightly.
"No, no—this was an exchange between equals," Ollivander replied quickly. "In fact, you've sparked something… yes, yes—I must go. I feel a new wand taking shape already!"
He stood abruptly and hurried out, clearly eager to return to his shop and begin work.