Hogwarts: I, Tangmu, Am Really Not the Dark Lord

"Jialike, did you not get enough rest last night? You can't even stand steady," Dengbuliduo said, stepping forward to support Aolifande, offering a polite excuse.

"Albus, you're sharp as ever. I was racking my brain over new wand materials all night." Aolifande seized the excuse smoothly and smiled at Tangmu. "But don't worry, child. Even if I'm unsteady, I'll find you the most suitable wand."

It seemed Aolifande had accepted the coincidence of the identical name, but deep down, he remained unsettled.

After measuring Tangmu's dimensions, the first wand he brought out was made of yew—and Dengbuliduo's eyelids twitched slightly when he saw it.

Yew represented both death and rebirth, a favorite among powerful dark wizards, particularly compatible with Dark Arts and defensive spells.

The previous Tangmu had also used a yew wand…

When a burst of flame shot from the wand tip, Aolifande frowned, clearly dissatisfied, snatched the wand from Tangmu's hand, and opened another box.

"That wand was too gentle—not your match. Try this one."

Tangmu took it. The wand immediately burst into a cloud of fluttering birds.

"Still not right. Thestral hair doesn't harmonize with you as I'd hoped. Let's try this one."

As soon as Tangmu accepted the third wand, a smooth synergy coursed through his hand. With a flick of his wrist toward a broken flowerpot in the corner, the pot shattered into dust.

[Host has successfully locked in future growth trajectory. System directional anchoring… anchoring complete. The Supreme Learning System is now at your service.]

Tangmu lowered his eyes, face expressionless, as if he hadn't heard a thing.

Aolifande clapped with delight. "A perfect match. Fourteen and a half inches, yew wood, dragon heartstring core. I can already imagine the power of your future spells."

"I'll use it well, Mr. Aolifande."

"Remember, a wand isn't just your tool—it's your partner, child."

"And now, eight Galleons, please."

After paying, Tangmu toyed with his new wand.

Though there was no mystical resonance, the feeling during that last spell was exceptionally smooth.

Aolifande clearly had skill—and the saying "the wand chooses the wizard" was no exaggeration.

Taking the simple maintenance kit Aolifande gave him, Tangmu exited the wand shop.

The moment the door closed behind them, the wandmaker's forced smile vanished. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

Any wand longer than thirteen and a half inches was considered a "super-long wand," signifying extreme self-confidence and an unusually high need for control.

Short wands, in contrast, symbolized pettiness and cruelty.

Aolifande recalled the shortest wand he had ever sold—to a witch named Wumuliji.

And the longest one… was now in Tangmu's hand.

Plus, a dragon heartstring core—something only those with immense magical power could truly control.

"Dengbuliduo, you know what this combination implies, don't you?" Aolifande muttered under his breath as he returned the scattered wand boxes to their places.

"Ah, Mr. Lideer, I nearly forgot something," Dengbuliduo said, pointing across the street at the pet shop. "First-years are allowed to bring a pet. Want to take a look?"

"No need, sir," Tangmu replied, shaking his head. "Owls are messengers—I don't have much use for them. As for toads and rats… they're not to my taste."

Dengbuliduo nodded and didn't press further. "Then that's it for today. Let's have a drink with Tangmu, then I'll escort you home."

Tangmu didn't decline.

They returned to the Leaky Cauldron. By then, it was dinnertime, with only two empty seats left, one reserved for them by the owner.

Dengbuliduo's presence subdued the previously noisy crowd, but since he and Tangmu only had a drink and left soon after, things returned to normal.

Tangmu suddenly understood why, in his past life watching Harry Potter, Dengbuliduo always seemed deeply lonely.

The old man held a status far too lofty. The entire country was practically made up of his disciples and students—a loneliness akin to an emperor's.

At least emperors had empresses. Dengbuliduo… had sent his own "empress" away.

With a subtle pang of pity, Tangmu glanced at the still-smiling old man.

An hour and a half later, Dengbuliduo brought Tangmu back to the orphanage.

"I look forward to our next meeting, Mr. Lideer."

"The feeling's mutual, Professor."

Watching Dengbuliduo leave, Tangmu turned and entered the house.

Aerman had finished dinner and clocked out. Saise and the three other boys were eating, having saved a large portion for Tangmu.

"Boss, are you really going to that school run by the old man with the white beard?"

The other three boys, upon seeing Tangmu, quickly finished eating, cleaned up, and fled to their rooms. Only Saise remained, asking curiously.

Currently, only Tangmu and Saise were permanent residents of the orphanage. The other three were newly arrived "problem children"—all "educated" by Tangmu and now avoiding him like the plague.

"That's not something you need to worry about," Tangmu replied through a mouthful of steak. "But if I hear your grades drop at secondary school, don't blame me for sorting you out when I return for the holidays."

Saise shrank back, not daring to argue.

But in his heart, he felt indignant for his boss. To him, Tangmu was the strongest—in both academics and fights. Even Harrow or Eton would be honored to have him.

But those steep school fees had forced his boss to attend some strange, unheard-of academy.

Tangmu had no idea his little brother was secretly standing up for him. He didn't explain either—Dengbuliduo had emphasized that the magical world must remain hidden from Muggles, and magical items couldn't appear in their world. As a mere first-year, he lacked the power to challenge magical law.

After dinner, having cleaned the dishes, Tangmu returned to his room.

"Open system panel."

[^1]: In the Wizarding World, a system refers to a fictional advantage or supernatural aid, often granting special abilities or guidance, common in certain narrative traditions.