Chapter 39: The Wandmaker's Tongue
"For example," Douglas said, counting it off on his fingers, "if you get up two or three hours earlier in the morning and start memorizing at six instead of eight, that gives you two extra hours right away, doesn't it?
"Then after classes, if you finish your homework early and keep memorizing until midnight, that adds another five or six hours.
"So when you think about it, you're basically getting a whole extra day of study compared to everyone else. Add a little every day, and it becomes a lot. By the end of the year, wouldn't one school year become almost two?"
He looked at the boys with complete sincerity.
"And think about Fred and George. They have to come every night. You only have to come on weekend evenings. Isn't that much happier?"
Harry suddenly brightened.
"I've already memorized the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, and I've started the second one. Professor, can I recite it one lesson at a time?"
Douglas nodded at once.
"Of course. As long as you don't just copy it out word for word, anything else is fine."
Harry and Ron both froze for a moment.
Then, comparing themselves to Fred and George, they immediately felt much better.
From the side, Hermione and Hagrid exchanged glances, both of them shaking their heads and looking at the two boys with deep pity.
In the end, Douglas walked back to the castle with the three little ones.
On the way, Ron said with great confidence, "Harry, I bet we'll finish our detention before Fred and George do. Then we can laugh at them properly."
Harry glanced at Douglas, lowered his voice, and reminded him, "They only have to memorize one subject. We have four."
Ron looked at him in surprise, then jabbed a finger toward Hermione.
"But we have Hermione. She's so clever—she must know some way of memorizing things that normal people don't. Otherwise, how could she have memorized everything before school even started?"
Harry's eyes immediately lit up.
As they passed the Quidditch pitch, Douglas spotted the Ravenclaw team training on the field and asked Harry curiously, "Didn't you have Quidditch practice today? I didn't see Wood at the practical classroom this morning."
Ron, still full of indignation over the earlier incident, quickly explained that when they had told Douglas about Malfoy insulting Hermione, they had forgotten to mention what had started the whole thing.
When Douglas heard the explanation, he touched his chin.
"So Lucius Malfoy sponsored a set of Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones for the Slytherin team, and you're all still flying Cleansweeps?"
Ron said at once, very unconvinced, "Not all of us. Harry's got a Nimbus Two Thousand. Anyway, Quidditch is about skill, not what broom you ride."
Hermione gave a sharp little sniff.
"At least nobody on Gryffindor has to buy their way onto the team. They got there on merit."
Ron patted her shoulder and pointed proudly at Harry.
"Don't worry, Hermione. Harry'll turn all of Malfoy's father's money into a joke."
Douglas clicked his tongue softly.
He had talent for flying himself, but he had never really shared the passionate enthusiasm young people had for sport. Because of that, he had never paid much attention to Hufflepuff's Quidditch team.
In any case, as far as he could remember, Hufflepuff had never exactly been a dominant force.
He looked at Harry.
"Do you know how much a Nimbus Two Thousand and One costs?"
Before Harry could answer, Ron jumped in proudly.
"Two thousand Galleons. I saw it in a shop window once."
Then Ron's face lit up with hope.
"Professor, are you thinking of sponsoring the school too? If you bought Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones for everyone, then Slytherin wouldn't have any advantage at all. Malfoy would be furious!"
"Oh!"
"Ow!"
Douglas rapped Ron sharply on the head.
"I'm a Hufflepuff. Do you understand what that means? If I'm going to sponsor anyone, it would be Hufflepuff."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Is trying to drag people into Gryffindor some hereditary Weasley trait?"
"And I never said I was definitely paying for anything. Two thousand Galleons is a lot of money. The Malfoys really are rich."
Then he pointed a warning finger at Ron.
"And you are not to go around spreading rumors about me. Otherwise everyone will think I wanted to sponsor Gryffindor and simply failed to do it."
He smiled coldly.
"In that case, I imagine your detention might be extended indefinitely."
That said, Douglas had already decided he probably would sponsor a team eventually.
He would just need to discuss it with Professor Sprout first.
If nothing else, perhaps it might earn him some sort of title as Hufflepuff's most generous alumnus.
After all, in recent years Hufflepuff's best-known graduate was probably still Newt Scamander.
Once they were back inside the castle, Douglas sent Hermione off to keep an eye on Harry and make sure he actually memorized his work, then took Ron with him to Professor McGonagall's office.
Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, adjusted her square spectacles, and asked at once, "Professor Holmes, may I ask what exactly you did to Mr. Creevey? I saw him running back in a panic, and when your name was mentioned, he looked even more terrified."
Douglas widened his eyes with perfect innocence.
"Professor McGonagall, I didn't do anything. It was Harry who frightened the child in Hagrid's hut."
Then he gestured toward Ron beside him.
"Mr. Weasley was there. If you don't believe me, you can ask him."
The moment the words left his mouth, Douglas realized something was wrong. He wasn't a student anymore, so why was he automatically speaking to her like this?
Then again, she was now his superior, and he was still only a temporary appointment.
So in the end, he gave her a dry little smile and stayed humble.
Professor McGonagall ignored him completely and turned to Ron.
"So. You and Mr. Potter already know the details of your detention?"
Ron nodded solemnly.
"Yes, Professor. Don't worry. Harry and I will definitely finish memorizing everything before Fred and George do."
Professor McGonagall looked rather surprised by Ron's confidence, but she did not crush it. Blind though it might be, it was still recognizably Gryffindor—meeting disaster head-on whether or not one had any sense.
Douglas spoke up quickly.
"Professor McGonagall, I would like permission to use the Floo connection to Diagon Alley. Mr. Weasley's wand was damaged in that incident. While I was trying to repair it, something went wrong and it disintegrated completely…"
He spread his hands.
"So… you see?"
Professor McGonagall gave a cold snort.
"Come back in an hour. I need to send a letter to the Floo Network Office at the Ministry first."
When Douglas and Ron stepped out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, Tom the innkeeper greeted Douglas with great enthusiasm.
"Professor Holmes! Ha! How about a glass of mead? On the house! Oh—and there's a little Weasley too!"
Douglas shrugged with exaggerated regret.
"You know Professor McGonagall only gave me an hour. If I stop for a drink, I don't know what she'll do to me."
Old Tom cackled toothlessly.
"So you're a professor now, and you're still afraid of Minerva McGonagall. Ha! Coward!"
Douglas gave him a disdainful snort, but wisely didn't answer. There was a little Gryffindor with an enormous mouth standing beside him, after all.
Instead, he lowered his head and said to Ron, "Hold on to my robes and don't get lost."
Ron stared at him and silently pointed to himself.
Douglas was already striding toward the back courtyard.
"Yes, you. Don't look so doubtful. I have no intention of losing you the moment we step out into Diagon Alley."
Then he added thoughtfully, "Of course, if you'd rather not hold on, I know an excellent rope-binding charm. Would you like to try that instead?"
At moments like this, Ron suddenly understood perfectly well why Douglas and Bill had always gotten along so well. The things they said and did often seemed utterly ridiculous—and yet somehow still cool.
They crossed into Diagon Alley quickly and headed straight for Ollivanders.
Douglas wasn't the least bit worried about running into his dear senior and demanding editor, Mr. Slaine.
After all, it was Saturday.
Unfortunately, fate had other ideas.
As they passed Florian Fortescue's ice cream shop, Douglas spotted his editor quite clearly, standing there with a little girl of seven or eight and buying her ice cream.
Douglas recognized Slaine's daughter at once.
Seeing that, he immediately lengthened his stride.
This editor had become less and less pleasant ever since Douglas had graduated.
Compared with most of Diagon Alley, Ollivanders looked especially shabby and narrow. The golden letters on the sign over the door had peeled badly with age, but the words were still legible:
Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
Outside the summer rush, the shop was usually quiet.
As soon as they stepped inside, the little bell over the door gave a soft jingle.
Mr. Ollivander appeared behind the counter in that unsettlingly quiet way he had.
Ron, who had never been inside a wand shop before, looked around with unconcealed curiosity. Tugging lightly at Douglas's sleeve, he asked in a whisper, "Professor… are all those boxes wands?"
A soft voice came from behind the counter before Douglas could answer.
"Of course. Yes, they are."
Then the pale eyes turned toward Douglas.
"Good afternoon, Professor Holmes. Grapevine wood, eleven inches, Augurey tail feather."
Ollivander smiled faintly.
"I knew, from the moment I made that wand, that you would have ambition, range of vision, and a future that would astonish the very people who believed they knew you best."
He tilted his head.
"After all, who could have guessed that you would one day become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts?"
Then his expression grew even more intent.
"Of course, when you later brought me that elder struck by lightning which still retained life, and asked me to craft a wand from it using Thunderbird feathers, I rather suspected this would be the path you chose. A wand unsuited to dark magic is, after all, exceptionally appropriate for—"
Douglas gave a dry little laugh and cut him off.
"How remarkable. I hadn't realized the great wandmaker Ollivander had started dabbling in false advertising."
✨If you're enjoying this story, consider supporting me on Patreon —
Patreon.com/TofuChan
Where you can read Extra Advance Chaters
Bonus Chapter For Every 100 Power Stones
Lets hit the goal of 300 Patreon Members now for 5 Extra Chapters 💕