That glowing red "string" didn't look very long—just two or three inches—but it managed to connect the ten-inch wand shaft from end to end, and not even in a straight line.
Harry could see it clearly: the cross-section of the wooden stick was also carved with various symbols, all of which were now emitting a faint red glow.
No one knew how long it had taken—maybe minutes, maybe hours—before the "string" finally reached the end. Then, the two separated halves of the wand quickly snapped together.
"Is... is it done?" Harry's throat moved slightly; his voice was dry.
"Almost," Harold replied without looking back, his eyes fixed on the wand in front of him. He waved a hand casually. "You all better step back a bit. I'm not sure if it'll explode this time."
No sooner had he spoken than Harry and the others stumbled backward. Neville and Seamus nearly crashed into each other—it was mostly because they'd been standing for so long that their legs had gone numb.
They had actually been thinking about leaving for a while, but before they could reach the door, a harsh scraping sound echoed in their ears.
Creak... creak... like someone was sawing wood.
Before their terrified eyes, the wand floated into the air and began to tremble violently.
In a daze, Ron seemed to see the shadow of a strange creature.
It was only about twenty inches tall, with grayish-brown, bark-like skin. The most eye-catching part was its head—it wore a crimson cap, as if it had been soaked in blood.
The creature roared, swinging a wooden stick with force.
A heavy slap landed on Ron's shoulder, jolting him awake.
"Run! It's a Red Cap!" he shouted, reaching out to grab Harry.
"What are you talking about? What Red Cap?" Harry, confused, was yanked so hard he nearly fell over.
With no other choice, he joined Seamus and Neville in trying to hold down the wildly thrashing Ron.
Thanks to their combined effort, Ron finally began to calm down.
The familiar dormitory surrounded them, and faint laughter from the common room could still be heard through the door.
"Where… where's the Red Cap?" Ron rubbed his eyes, dazed.
"What Red Cap?" Harry let go of his arm. "There's nothing here. What's going on with you?"
"But I saw it… I really saw it…" Ron rubbed his eyes again. "Did I imagine it?"
"You didn't." Harold's voice drew everyone's attention.
He looked Ron up and down with curiosity, then glanced at the wand on the table.
"Quite surprising. It should've exploded, but somehow it completed the fusion. And you saw what the wand core really looked like."
He picked up the wand.
[Holly Wood, Red Cap Nerve, Ten Inches]
[Traits: +5% success rate for Poison Curses; +10% success rate for Blasting Curses]
Harold gripped the wand a little tighter.
Two traits—low boosts, and not even worthy of individual names—but still, two traits!
And both were positive!
He looked back at Ron, thought for a moment, then handed over the wand. Check latest chapters at 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹•𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖•𝗇𝗲𝘁
"Want to give it a try?"
"Huh?" Ron froze. "Me?"
"Yeah." Harold nodded.
Ron didn't overthink it. He jumped up excitedly, wiped his hands, and took the wand.
He had dreamed of owning a brand-new wand.
Even if it wasn't technically his, at least it was new.
"Give it a try," said Harold.
"A spell. One you're most familiar with."
"Oh." Ron licked his lips and cleared his throat.
"Daisies, whipped cream, and sunshine."
"Turn this beat-up table yellow."
A flash of light shot across their eyes. The brown table instantly turned a bright yellow.
"Oh my god!" Ron clapped a hand over his mouth, completely stunned. "That spell actually works!"
He wasn't the only one—Harry's eyes were wide with shock.
He'd seen Ron try that spell on the train, but nothing had happened back then.
So why had it worked now?
"Looks like you and this wand are a good match," Harold raised an eyebrow. "Thinking about buying it? I can give you a great deal."
"How much?" Ron's eyes sparkled.
"Seven Galleons," Harold said. "That's the standard price for first-years."
The light in Ron's eyes dimmed immediately. Reluctantly, he placed the wand back on the table.
"I don't have any money. Not even seven Sickles," he said, head down, face flushing red.
"I'll pay for you!" Harry, overflowing with generosity, reached into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of shiny gold coins.
He was rich. His vault had a small mountain of gold. Buying a wand for a friend? No problem at all.
"No, no! Don't!" Ron clutched Harry's arm, blushing even harder.
"And besides... I already have a wand. I don't need another one."
If he hadn't kept sneaking glances at the wand on the table while he said that, Harry might've believed him.
But Ron refused no matter what, and Harry couldn't force it on him.
"It's fine. I'll hold onto it for you," Harold said as he picked up the wand again. That finally ended the awkward moment.
"I'll put it in Ollivander's Wand Shop. You can buy it anytime."
"Okay!" Ron licked his lips again and nodded hard.
"You've got to save it for me," he added earnestly.
After Harold agreed, Ron quickly returned to his usual self. He and the other three apologized to Harold, then left the dorm.
The party wasn't over yet—they were planning to grab some food and down a bottle of Butterbeer.
The dorm was empty once more.
Harold took the wand out again, thinking back to the fusion process between the wand shaft and the core.
That intense shaking, the screeching sound—he knew it all too well. It was definitely the prelude to an explosion.
But right before it could blow, everything suddenly stabilized.
And coincidentally, Ron had seen the Red Cap inside the core.
That was a kind of resonance—something that only happened during wand-making, and only when a wizard was highly compatible with the wand. Normally, it never occurred.
After all, wandmakers usually worked in quiet, isolated places, without other wizards around.
But this time was different for Harold.
He never expected success—he was just trying to reassure his classmates and give himself an excuse.
Let them see how dangerous his work was—how it could even explode! Not sharing a dorm was for their safety.
It had all sounded good in his head.
He just didn't expect it to actually succeed this time.
After a month of failures—he finally did it!
"Because of Ron?" Harold murmured, then recalled a phrase he'd heard so many times it echoed in his ears.
The wand chooses the wizard…