Hogwarts Wasteland: The Witch from the Borderlands

The moment it was pulled out, an image appeared before Hermione's eyes.

It was a sweltering forging workshop, where molten iron flowed down the grooves, and dusty Muggle workers pulled cart after cart of ore, like soulless zombies.

In the highly industrialized factory, a large number of metal parts are produced, then assembled into firearms, and truckloads are pushed out from underground, passing through numerous checkpoints, and transported to every corner of the nuclear power plant.

Deep within the bunker, a group of humans in white coats gathered around a magical furnace, marveling at the raw stone that emitted a magnificent glow.

A group of bare-chested fairies, wielding iron hammers, were hammering away amidst the lava and flames.

The tinkling echoes reverberated through the empty hall.

Sparks flew as wondrous magic was forged into the crystallization of science. Somber incantations rose and fell, and amidst the quarrel between scientists and fairies, a metal rod shimmering with mesmerizing colors was born.

It was over 1.5 meters long, much taller than Hermione, and was silver in color, but it would refract a faint halo in the dim light, making it both dangerous and beautiful.

Perhaps due to prolonged exposure to the nuclear reactor, the metal rod retained a strong amount of radioactive energy. Hermione estimated that even without pyroxene, she could still unleash a considerable amount of pyroxene magic using this rod.

Of course, magic circles will inevitably be inscribed on it later to control the radiation inside, otherwise it will be a huge source of radiation wherever it goes.

"Huh?" There seemed to be something still attached to the bottom of the long stick. Hermione tugged hard and heard a soft "snap" as something was pulled out by the roots.

It was a thin, long root like a blood vessel, with many finer branches. After it was completely pulled out, the entire altar made of magical creatures lost its luster in an instant, and the scattered points of light gradually dissipated.

The lush green grass receded at a visible speed, as if its life, which had been held up for several years, was being taken away in an instant.

"This is... my wand core?" Hermione had this thought in her mind.

"This is a natural magic wand." She realized that if no one disturbed it and this accidentally formed altar was allowed to develop, perhaps after thousands of years, these root-like things would completely merge with the demon core control rod, and then be obtained by a lucky little wizard, becoming an invincible magic wand.

"Yes, this must be the essence of these dead magical creatures, like the heartstrings of dragons, the tail hairs of unicorns, and the tail feathers of Thestrals. Perhaps it was this metal, which can even control violent radiation, combined with the accidental stacking shape and the violent burst of vibration, that connected the heartstrings of these creatures? Their magical power linked together, and their accumulated characteristics underwent a miraculous transformation, ultimately forming the current state."

But it's too early yet. The connection between the magical animal's heartstring and the demon core metal is only at the very end, and it could probably be broken with a little more force.

Hermione recalled Professor McGonagall's teachings.

"Once you find the right wand shaft and core, there is no need to cut or glue them. Such deliberate work will only damage the wand's integrity. Hold them tightly together and use your determination to bring them together."

Hermione coiled her heartstrings around the metal rod like an electromagnetic coil, and right there on the altar of bones, she clenched her hands, closed her eyes, and focused her mind.

Slowly, a bright yellow light shone through her fingers. Although it wasn't a spell, pure magic, driven by determination, could still achieve the goal of making one's wishes come true.

But the light lasted only a moment, and the next instant, her hand was flung away.

She stared in astonishment at the metal rod: "It's resisting being changed..."

Fairies possess extraordinary skills; the things they create will not decay for thousands of years. Moreover, this rod is used to control the violent nuclear reaction, making it a stubborn king among metals.

"Maybe... it needs to suffer a bit?" Hermione recalled the images that had just flashed through her mind: the hammer slamming down, the sparks flying, the goblin's forge.

"That should be a military factory nearby, right?" She looked strange. If she remembered correctly, the ground of that workshop was an inconspicuous outpost.

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Time passed, and Harry ate the last piece of jerky and drank the last sip of clean water.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and, by observing the faint changes in the daylight, confirmed the time. It was almost evening, and the wand selection was about to end.

He looked at the creation in his hand with satisfaction; this would be the magic wand that accompanied him for the rest of his life.

He heard the whooshing sound of a broom rushing overhead. He looked up and saw his mother. She had made excuses to pass by here many times during her patrols.

"Is it finally done?" Lily Potter descended, looking at the wand in Harry's hand, her smile freezing on her face.

"Child, although the design of wands has long been unconventional, but this one... are you sure?" She tried to make one last attempt.

Harry swung the steel flail in his hand, the rough and unique Soviet aesthetic bringing a gust of bloody wind, the inertial force almost knocking the 11-year-old British boy over.

He held the heavy wand, chuckling as he twirled the flail's hammerhead: "The shaft is the hammer I found at the great bell at the highest point of the fortress, and the core is a fragment of that bell."

He looked earnestly at his mother: "This is a tool to remind the soldiers to go to war, and a voice to announce the arrival of dawn. My inclination tells me that this is my magic wand, and I will use it to compose the music of a new era!"

The young potions professor looked into the same eyes as his own, patted the boy's head, and said with a fond smile, "You're just as troublesome as your father. In that case, hold on tight on the way back. If you fall, you'll have to retrieve it yourself."

As they were talking, a sound of footsteps interrupted their conversation. The two turned to look and saw a chestnut-colored girl, also wearing the Lion Academy robe, slowly walking towards them, leaning on a metal rod that was even longer than hers.

"Hermione? What are you doing here? Have you found your wand?" Harry asked, puzzled. If he had found his wand, he only needed to blow the whistle in a specific rhythm, and a professor would come to pick him up.

The girl approached, wiped the scratches on her face, and bowed politely to Lily: "Professor Potter."

Then she said to Harry, "Found it." She waved the long stick in her hand. "I even fought a five-legged serpent that had just come out of hibernation on the way, but that was a minor matter."

It's not a very strong mutant beast. Even if an ordinary first-year student were bitten, they would only be bedridden for a few days at most. It's considered a training exercise left by the professors for the children.

Lily immediately became anxious: "Are you alright? Have you been poisoned?" As a professor, she was responsible for the safety of her students.

Hermione shook her head: "I'm fine, but my staff and core are a bit unruly." She held up the metal rod for Lily to see.