[Item: Wand]
[Wand Body: Acacia Wood]
[Wand Core: Garuda Thunderbird Feather]
[Length: Twelve Inches]
[Quality: Excellent]
[Compatibility: Ninety Percent]
There was no question, this was an exceptionally fine wand.
Indeed, one could argue it represented the absolute pinnacle of mortal craftsmanship. Even Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone, a "Legendary" artifact, was only achieved through centuries of accumulated alchemical knowledge and a unique set of circumstances that could never be replicated.
However, knowing Ollivander as he did, Tom wasn't surprised that "Good" quality wands typically marked the limit of his skill. Only the singular nature of the Garuda Thunderbird feather had allowed him to create what he called "his most perfect work."
It wasn't a slight against the man. Consistently crafting "Good" quality wands already marked Ollivander as a master of his trade.
After all, there were inherent limitations to wand-making. One could only do so much with a feather dropped by a magical creature and a piece of carved wood. It was impossible to expect a weapon with the destructive power of a missile. For truly potent magical items, one needed to commission a magical cannon from a goblin.
Generally, wands primarily aided wizards in casting spells, not significantly amplifying their inherent power.
Yet, this magnificent wand, by virtue of its exceptional components, had reached the apex of quality, surpassing the limits of ordinary wands. Beneath its serene exterior lay the potential for raw thunderstorm magic, promising to substantially enhance spells related to weather and lightning.
"Indeed, quite impressive." Perfect for her.
Tom closed the box and casually slipped it back into his Serpent Ring.
"Hehe…"
Ollivander, clearly honored that his craftsmanship had earned the Dark Lord's praise, eagerly recounted his wand-making process.
"I initially feared that the magic contained within this special feather was too potent, that ordinary wand materials wouldn't be able to contain it. But after some experimentation, I discovered…" A flicker of something akin to madness danced in Ollivander's eyes. "Despite its clearly volatile magic, it showed no resistance to any foreign wand material—none at all! It forms a perfect union with anything! It's simply unbelievable!"
"…"
Isn't that obvious?
Tom wasn't surprised by Ollivander's revelation. After all, he wouldn't have acquired a feather that was incompatible with wand-making. With the cooperation of the Garuda Thunderbird and his own manipulations, that feather wouldn't break even if subjected to the roughest handling!
That was why he'd stated, "You can decide on the wand material yourself." It wasn't due to a lack of understanding; he genuinely meant that Ollivander could "figure it out" on his own.
The compatibility between this magnificent wand and Tom himself was equally high. The Garuda Thunderbird was his pet; how could it be otherwise?
"However, although it could be paired with any material, I ultimately chose acacia wood."
Ollivander knew this wand wasn't intended for Tom's personal use. Although Tom Riddle had never explicitly stated it, the ornate specifications he had requested earlier had been a clear indication.
Ollivander fancied he understood the situation well. After all, the Dark Lord already possessed a far more formidable wand… a legendary artifact he had once considered an impossibility, even if it lacked the embellishments of this new commission.
Since it wasn't for the Dark Lord and had been personally commissioned with specific instructions for an ornate design… it was easy to deduce its intended recipient.
Rumors abounded that to earn such favor from the Dark Lord, who viewed most other life as being akin to insects, marked one as a uniquely fortunate woman.
"Acacia wood, an exceedingly rare and discerning magical wood. It rejects mediocrity, acknowledging only genuinely gifted masters and refusing to be wielded by anyone else."
At this point, Ollivander couldn't resist a touch of self-congratulation. "It suits her perfectly, wouldn't you agree?"
"…"
Tom observed the old man in silence.
Sensing the immense pressure, Ollivander realized he'd overstepped, particularly in the presence of the Dark Lord, and frantically waved his hands. "Just guessing, just guessing, of course…"
"..."
Fortunately, Tom seemed unconcerned with Ollivander's rambling thoughts, and simply turned to leave Ollivander's Wand Shop.
As for the payment for the custom wand, someone would take care of it.
...
By the time Tom returned to Hogwarts, it was already noon.
Upon entering his office, he found Cassandra Volle seated in his chair, watching him.
"..."
They stared at each other in silence for a few moments.
Just as Cassandra was about to ask, "Tom, do you have something to say?", Tom moved.
Under Cassandra's expectant gaze, Tom approached her, wordlessly lifted her, her face flushing with embarrassment, to stand beside the chair, before settling into it himself.
"..."
Cassandra paused, That jerk Tom! Huh?
Her gaze softened as she noticed the box he held out to her.
Looking up, she saw that familiar and ever-present, gentle smile. "A birthday present. Open it."
Immediately, the haughty young lady understood why the jerk had left so early in the morning.
Cassandra accepted the wooden box but hesitated to open it. Although she originally wanted a "gift," considering that this was one that Tom had thoughtfully prepared in advance, she would reluctantly accept it.
She could always ask him for that next year.
Right now, Cassandra only cared about the person in front of her and the item in her hands.
"This…you prepared for me…" Cassandra's eyes gleamed slyly. "Is it just for me, or does someone else get one too?"
"How could anyone else receive your birthday present?" Tom was both amused and exasperated. Why was this girl so jealous?
"Then what about that woman, Nagini?" Cassandra's expression hardened into a warning. "You can't give this to her."
"Alright, alright, I won't…"
Primarily, this wand wasn't particularly suited for Nagini.
Tom soothed Cassandra with a gentle touch, like one would a spoiled cat.
Seemingly mollified by Tom's answer, Cassandra nodded slightly, then shot him a mischievous glance. "So, can I take that to mean this is something you intended only for me from the very beginning?"
"Ah? That is quite correct."
"I understand! So, this is what Muggles call a 'token of love.'"
"…"
Cassandra nodded knowingly.
Tom briefly considered clarifying that it was merely a birthday present, but seeing Cassandra's joyous expression, he decided against it.
It ultimately mattered little; if that was her interpretation, so be it.
Just as Tom chuckled helplessly, a warm sensation on his lips snapped him back to full awareness.
Seeing Tom's surprised expression, Cassandra didn't try to retreat this time. Her beautiful face flushed a deep crimson, her watery eyes met his. "It's only fair, and the Volle family rules don't allow me to accept gifts for nothing."
"Who bestows a gift upon someone on their own birthday?" Tom chuckled… What a feeble excuse.
Cassandra, however, wore a smug expression – obviously, she knew Tom recognized her flimsy rationalization, but he would also pretend not to notice.
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