"I... I'm... Impossible!" the old man finally exclaimed, tears forming at the edges of his eyes.
Ted stood there, flabbergasted, his eyes widening as he blinked rapidly, staring at the man — to the point where the new feeling of energy around him seemed to melt away, almost forgotten. The old man's reaction caught him completely off guard, shaking his composure for a few moments.
"Is everything alright, sir?" he finally asked quietly after a few seconds of stunned silence.
The old man was still staring at him, his tears now turning into a slight whimper.
"Y... You, it... it can't... it can't be..." the old man muttered, seemingly ignoring Ted entirely as he wrestled with something internally, disbelief never leaving his voice.
"Excuse me, sir, but what can't be?" Ted asked again, much louder this time, trying to snap the old man back to reality.
It seemed to work — the old man's eyes cleared a little.
"I... I'm sorry... whimper... young man," the old man's voice broke slightly with every word. "Can you... whimper... does the name Elara... snivel... mean anything to you?"
Ted looked blankly at him, stunned. His answer came purely on instinct.
"You... you knew my mom?"
The old man wiped at his tears but stayed quiet for a few moments, his reddened eyes never leaving Ted, scanning him from top to bottom as though measuring him.
"Sir—" Ted began again, but the old man cut him off.
"Elara is m... my niece. I raised her since s... she was li... little," he finally managed, although barely, mumbling every other word. Fortunately, Ted was standing close enough to catch it all.
The old man rubbed his eyes again, drying the tears that rolled down his slightly crumpled skin.
"She was a cute child," he continued, this time much clearer. "Very energetic, always running around causing problems with the wands." He chuckled faintly, but sighed almost immediately. "Those Death Eaters... I will never forget this!"
Ted looked at him, confused. He wasn't sure what to say — or if he should say anything at all. The old man was clearly close to his mother, yet Ted had no clue who he was.
"To think that you gave birth, my dear Ela—" the old man sighed mid-thought, still lost in memories.
Ted finally interrupted him.
"Excuse me, sir, but who are you?" he asked, this time more firmly. He was really lost, and the old man's rambling half-sentences were making it harder to process.
Hearing Ted, the old man grew quiet, lowering his head. Ted could hear his deep breathing until he finally let out a long, heavy sigh.
"The name is Ollivander, Garrick Ollivander. Elara — your mother — was my late sister's daughter, whom I raised in her stead," Garrick finally said, his voice steadier. "May I know your name, young man?"
"Ted. Ted Blake."
Ted, finally making sense of the man's words, answered politely. There was no reason to lie — the old man clearly knew his mother. Besides, the wizarding community's awareness of Muggle affairs was shaky at best; his name wouldn't give anything away.
"Ted... probably short for Theodor. A nice name," the old man mused quietly to himself, reminiscing. "Elara always was quite sentimental."
An awkward silence followed.
Garrick Ollivander seemed lost in thought, and Ted wasn't sure what else to say. Until now, his father had been his only living relative — and the two weren't exactly close. Family was... a vague concept to him.
Realizing the conversation had hit a dead-end, Ted's thoughts gradually returned to that strange feeling from when he had first entered the shop.
Even now, he could still feel it — though far more subdued than before. Back then, it had felt like being hit by electricity, but Olivander's reaction had thrown him completely off, leaving him without the chance to explore it properly.
It wasn't overwhelming anymore. It didn't prickle his skin. It was just there — like another presence around him, like the air itself.
Only... it wasn't just air.
It was something tangible. Almost like a thicker, condensed form of gas. Ted could feel it stirring faintly with every movement, every breath he took.
Looking around again, he could see it — or rather, sense it. Even with his eyes closed, he could still feel where certain objects were... and somehow still see the colours attached to them.
It was everywhere — and in every colour.
In Garrick, still lost in thought, it glowed faintly— as white as his hair.
In the air, it shimmered with ever-shifting colors, like an endless kaleidoscope.
In the stacks of wand boxes along the walls, each had its own hue and its own strength, pulsing softly in its own rhythm.
Even the old chair by the entrance was covered in yellow energy — faint, but present.
Not quite sight. Not exactly any other sense either.
And yet Ted didn't feel confused.
He felt... enlightened.
"It's the same feeling!" he thought, connecting pieces in his mind.
All those times — that tug in his stomach, the faint warning in his chest — that instinctive sense of danger or awareness.
His so-called passive defense mechanism... had always been the same.
Well... similar, at least.
Those earlier sensations had been tied to danger, to fear — to negative emotion.
But this... this was pure.
It was magic.
And in that moment, Ted felt like he had finally found another piece of the puzzle that was his past.
How many more pieces were left... he didn't know.
<==================>
By the time Ted left Ollivanders, the sky was already beginning to darken — streaked with faint purples and deep reds that stretched lazily across the horizon. The sun itself was no longer visible within the narrow, building-lined alley of Diagon Alley.
Picking up his pace, Ted moved quickly down the street. Time was against him — and he wasn't sure when, or even if, he'd get the chance to return to the magical alley again.
Unfortunately, buying a wand today — or even continuing the conversation — was out of the question. Garrick Ollivander had been far too shaken by their encounter. The old man had practically shut down afterward, lost entirely in his own thoughts, not even sparing Ted another glance.
As Ted moved along the street, however, he noticed something almost immediately.
The magic in the air — or rather, the way he sensed it — was completely different out here compared to inside the shop.
Where the inside of Ollivanders had been saturated — thick, heavy, and pressing in on every side — the magic here was far more sparse. Weaker. Thinner.
Not absent. Just... scattered.
His gaze swept over the bustling crowd of witches and wizards moving through the alley, and for the first time, Ted noticed something else — something that made him pause for a heartbeat.
Every person he looked at... had a colour.
Not literally, of course. But in his mind's eye — or whatever strange sense he was using — every single one of them was wreathed in a faint hue.
And while the colors varied, there was a pattern.
Most were simple, primary shades — green, red, yellow, and blue — by far the most common tones in the crowd.
Of course, their density varied too. Greatly, in fact.
Some people glowed brightly in his perception — vibrant, sharp, almost impossible to ignore.
Others, by contrast, were so faint they were barely visible at all — the colour thin, washed-out, and struggling to even exist.
Ted's eyes narrowed slightly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
He would have to research that in the future... though he had a few guesses as to the result.
As he continued down the alley, moving from shop to shop, Ted picked up several things that caught his eye — a chessboard enchanted to respond to voice commands, a few oddly described magical candies, and even a broomstick that, despite being an older model, had a charm to it he couldn't resist.
Altogether, the purchases cost him 34 Galleons and 1 Sickle — with the broomstick alone taking up 30 Galleons and 8 Sickles of that amount.
Now, standing atop a footstool in a shop called ;Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions', Ted was being measured for a robe. A smiling witch dressed entirely in purple floated swatches of fabric in front of him as a magical measuring tape darted around his limbs, taking his measurements with precise flicks.
Ted didn't particularly care about clothing, but earlier that day, he had noticed a few people looking at him with mild curiosity as he moved through the alley. It had made him realize that if he wanted to blend in, he would need to dress like everyone else.
'When in Rome, do as the Romans do', he reminded himself.
What he didn't know was that most of the stares had little to do with his clothes — and everything to do with the fact that he was a child, wandering Diagon Alley completely alone. Making them wonder who his crazy parents were.
The shop offered three main types of robes — Dress Robes, Traveling Cloaks, and Uniforms — each with their own array of optional enchantments:
Dust-repelling (10 Sickles)
Colour-changing (3 Galleons)
Size-fitting (8 Galleons)
Improved scent (10 Sickles)
There were also protective and self-repairing enchantments, though no prices were listed for those. Ted assumed they were either negotiable or required a custom order.
They were all fairly useful, especially given that he'd continue growing and wouldn't be able to hand his clothes off to the mansion's maids for washing — not unless he wanted to explain a few awkward things. 'Well... Maybe on Halloween,' he mused.
But unfortunately, he only had 5 Galleons and 7 Sickles left.
The robe itself cost three Galleons. Ted chose to add the dust-repelling and improved scent charms, which brought the total to four Galleons and three Sickles, leaving him with just one Galleon and four Sickles.
He selected a plain, black robe — clean in design, with no embellishments. While waiting, he noticed that the once-smiling witch had started muttering to herself, glancing from him to the fabrics and back again with a puzzled expression.
At that moment, Ted heard footsteps behind him.
Turning his head, he saw another witch — a younger assistant — entering the shop with a red-haired boy who wore the sort of grin that made it look like this was the best day of his life.
"Here, boy, stand on the stool," she instructed, guiding him toward a second footstool right next to Ted. She draped a long black robe over the redhead's shoulders and began pinning the hem to the right length.
Ted glanced down at the emblem stitched into the robe and immediately recognized it. His eyes sparkled for a brief second — barely managing to keep his composed expression in check.
It was hard sometimes, playing the 'emotionless boy' role — but experience had taught him it was the safest mask to wear.
The redhead looked at Ted as well, seeing his young age; he was quite confused about him being alone.
The redhead looked back at Ted, clearly surprised to see someone so young shopping alone.
"Hi, my name's Charlie — Charlie Weasley. What's yours?" he asked slowly, his tone overly gentle, as if speaking to a much younger child. He extended a hand.
Ted found the tone faintly insulting... but shook his hand anyway.
"Theodor. Theodor Blake," he replied smoothly.
By now, he had abandoned the Selwyn alias entirely. It wasn't worth the trouble — especially if he was likely to meet this boy again. Explaining a fake name later would be... inconvenient.
"Don't move, boy!" the older witch barked at Charlie, who immediately tensed, biting down on a grin as she stabbed another pin into the hem of his robe
<================>
At the same time, back in Ollivanders, Garrick Ollivander finally stirred from his deep trance and glanced around — only to find that Ted was gone.
He turned to the window, peering out into the now-dark alley, and a thought struck him — one that, somehow, he hadn't considered before.
"What in Merlin's beard was he even doing here?!"
Garrick knew who Elara had married. And with her long dead, how could a child — her child — be standing here, alone, at that age?
A dozen questions flooded his mind, none of which he had an answer to.
He hadn't seen Elara since her wedding. He hadn't even known she was pregnant.
If it weren't for Ted's eyes... he never would have believed it.
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This chapter was edited(I'm sorry if your comments were deleted as a result.)