THE WAND MAY CHOOSE, BUT NOT ALWAYS A WIZARD

Mr and Mrs Dursley would sooner give Harry a birthday present than allow their son Dudley anywhere near the 'freak-show', otherwise known as Mr and Mrs Kim's house. Dudley had learned not to fight it. His parents rarely went against his whims, but that was one of the few things they were determined to stand their ground on. In an effort to please him, Mr and Mrs Dursley made a point of taking him to a nearby street, where the houses were adorned with extravagant decorations similar to those of the Kims'.

Over the years, a handful of American families had made their homes in the area, introducing the trick-or-treating tradition. As a result, many families eventually joined in to fulfil their children's requests. Mr and Mrs Dursley were no different. In the kitchen, on top of the cabinet beside the fridge, there was a bowl not even Dudley had access to. Throughout October, they would sporadically fill it with sweets that they either received as gifts or discovered on sale for fifty per cent off, or more, at the supermarket.

For the past three years, on Halloween night, Uncle Vernon would take Harry aside well before the usual time when trick-or-treaters showed up. "An hour, boy. We won't be gone for more than that. I've counted those devilish sweets to the last one. Take a single one and you won't have any food for a week". Then he would turn, the keys clinking in his hand, and have one last look at him. "Any funny business. Any at all and…"

Harry would always feel compelled to answer. "Yeah. I know. No more food or get locked in the cupboard. Heard you the first time." Yet kept silent, to avoid being locked up that early into the night. He waved them off as Uncle Vernon closed the door behind him, the keys jiggling as they locked the front door for good. There was no going in or out, or so Harry thought.

Not a minute later, soft noises, as if something touching or hitting glass, echoed from the back door to the patio. Harry turned off the lights and ventured into the kitchen, grabbing with trembling hands a pan that was left in the sink. Soon he got to the curtains and gently pulled the side to have a proper look at what or whom was there. The first thing he saw was a long, green velvet fabric, as if from a robe.

He whispered "Christopher?" without knowing. "Is that you?"

"Will you hit me if I am?" Jin-woo replied, holding his hands up to prove he had no ill intentions or weapons. "Saw your uncle and aunt leave. Thought I could snatch you for a while so you can try my Grandpa's obstacle course." At Harry's indecision, the boy took his hand and pulled eagerly. "Come on, he's giving the best sweets to those who break the night's record. It's at eight minutes. You can make it in five, I'm sure!"

"He'll give me sweets?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Of course," replied Jin-woo right away. "Why wouldn't he?"

Harry frowned, as if the reason was pretty obvious. "Don't your grandparents hate my aunt and uncle?"

"It's not hate, per se, it's more like irritation." Jin-woo chuckled, then let go of his friend's hand to fold his arms. "Besides, I still don't understand why they wouldn't give you sweets. You've done nothing."

"They're my family," said Harry, doubt present on his face the longer he thought his phrase through. "If your grandparents think my aunt and uncle are irritating, then they probably think that about me, too."

Jin-woo couldn't wrap his head around a word Harry had said. He couldn't imagine for a minute hating someone for their family, let alone denying sweets to a ten-year-old for such a petty reason. "All right, I hear you, I do. It's just… Why? Actually, doesn't matter. We don't have time. I promise my Grandpa likes you. Not to mention my mum baked most of the sweets and would lecture him for days if he denied anyone rights to them. She's already not fond of the whole 'go through the course to earn them', you know?"

"Your mother sounds nice," said Harry.

"She is," Jin-woo nodded, "until someone gets her mad." When Harry audibly gulped, he laughed it off and added, "It's all right. Takes a lot to get her mad. Remember I blew up my essay? She didn't yell at me once."

The Dursley's wooden fence struggled to tower over Jin-woo, whom looked back at Harry, barely a head shorter than him, and knelt regardless. Harry looked at him, not moving a centimetre until he saw Jin-woo's hand intertwining to help him up. He took the help and jumped, his loose old clothes from Dudley almost getting caught on the round edges at the top of the fence, but getting safely back on the ground without a scratch. There was shuffling on the other side, a similar sound to clothes being adjusted or hanged on the clothesline.

About a minute had passed when the soft, green velvet robe lay draped over the top of the fence, concealing the rail. Jin-woo's hands emerged, gripping the fabric as he propelled himself upward to hop over it. He landed effortlessly, his feet touching the ground without a sound. Harry couldn't help but notice how out of place the every-day clothes that the robes had concealed earlier looked on him. Not specifically because of the bright green jumper, although it didn't help, and not because of the equally eye-catching—for all the wrong reasons—purple trousers, but for how unusual it was to see a Kim wearing anything other than robes or a tunic.

"What is it?" Jin-woo asked once he encountered Harry's unwavering sight. "This?" He pointed at his own clothes. "Grandma picked it for me. My father says neither of us has a of sense of style, but I think it looks good."

Harry winced, his eyes darting away, as if he was actively trying to ignore a sudden thought. "Yeah, they're all right. For a Halloween costume, anyway."

Jin-woo glanced down at his own clothes, narrowing his eyes for a moment before asking, "Is it the trousers?" but before Harry could reply, he continued. "Actually, da igual. Give me a minute. I'll put the robes back on."

Harry nodded swiftly. "Please do."

Jin-woo, dressed again in his familiar, traditional robes, guided Harry towards Number Eight. They arrived to find a small group of eager children gathered, ready to take on the obstacle course for the tempting rewards. Ji-yoon tapped her foot impatiently, watching the boy going through the course cower at the boiling 'lava' river under the tiny carton bridge. To the poor boy's dismay, whenever a participant wouldn't advance, pudding puking spiders would descend from the rooftop to scare them into moving. Within the underwhelming span of ten minutes, the boy made it to the doorbell, ringing it to mark the end of his run and claim his reward: a handful of various sweets.

"Is that your sister?" Harry asked, pointing over at Ji-yoon, who was impatient to begin the course to beat her all-time best record. "Why's she doing the obstacle course?"

"We're an odd family," replied Jin-woo with a chuckle. "Grandpa Seok-jin doesn't let us eat sweets outside of our mother's Cookie Tower—our substitute for cakes—unless we 'deserve' them. Can't share between us either. It's against the rules. What you earn is what you get, and to earn it, you must work for it. Let's say we don't have it as easy as you newbies either. A standard eight-minutes' run will at most give us a couple of flavoured beans. We've got to beat our own record time each year. That's how we get the best of the best sweets."

The moment the trembling boy ran through the 'safe passage' to the street, Ji-yoon buzzed the wailing skull to start her run. Though his sister hadn't told him, Jin-woo was sure she wouldn't settle down until Grandpa Seok-jin deemed her time record worthy of the one sweet no other Muggle child could gain—Chocolate Frogs. She loved those to the world's end, way more than their mother's doughnuts. Although sharing sweets on Halloween night was against the rules, Jin-woo planned to earn a couple to give her at midnight, when the rules technically would not apply anymore.

With the best time of the night and a handful of sweets, Ji-yoon came back to the cue, beaming with delight as she showed her brother the chocolate frog she finally got. Jin-woo congratulated her, and so did Harry, who hadn't seen those sweets before in his life, but thought none of it—the Kim's were weird and so were the sweets. Ji-yoon was surprisingly the least strange of them all, wizard costume and all.

"You must be Jin-woo's new friend." Her smile was still present on her face when she turned to Harry. "I'm his older sister, Ji-yoon Cristina. My friends call me Cris."

"Harry," he said. "I don't have a nickname."

"We can fix that," replied Ji-yoon. "Oh, it's your first time going through the course, right? Don't worry about anything. Our dad forces Grandpa to test everything on his own skin first. It's safe."

"Just look out for the puking spiders," added Jin-woo. "The pudding's spinach-flavoured."

Harry buzzed the wailing skull and took off running through the obstacles, coming back to the twins only a few minutes later with dozens of sweets in his arms. During the hour they had left, they raced against each other to see who could achieve the fastest time before the Dursleys returned. Their pockets overflew with sweets as they sat down on the pavement to eat as much as they could.

While keeping an eye on their grandparents' house, Jin-woo glanced at his sister, who gave him a curious look, and playfully smiled as he handed her a chocolate frog. "Happy birthday, Froggy."

"That's against the rules," said Ji-yoon. "And I don't have anything for you either."

He shrugged it off. "Rules… are more like guidelines. Come to Diag—" His eyes darted to Harry for a moment. "Um, take my side tomorrow. That'll be your birthday present to me. We both know Grandma has a worse sense of fashion than I do. Take pity on your poor little brother and help him not embarrass himself at the new school."

"You're changing schools?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. Come September, I'll be on my merry way to a boarding school," Jin-woo replied, no enthusiasm present in his voice. "I'll always come back to spend the summers."

"Promise?"

"Of course."

Hardly an hour later, the twins walked away from Number Four. The minutes ticked by until Mr and Mrs Dudley were to come back with their son carrying heavy bags of sweets that any other child would take an eternity to eat. Both twins had promised Harry to safeguard his sweets until he could pay another visit, a responsibility they took seriously.

After returning to their grandparents' house, Ji-yoon explained the situation aloud while Jin-woo placed Harry's sweets in a different drawer to avoid mixing them up with their own. Brownie hadn't a good temper for disobedience. Were they to bring in sweets they hadn't won by themselves, they would wake up the next day with their room upside down, sometimes almost literally.

"Oh, we haven't left them anything yet, have we?" Jin-woo said as he took his bag of sweets to help himself to some cauldron cakes. "People are staying up late today. Brownie will get pissed off that they can't do much around the house. We should leave them a couple more sweets than usual."

"Couldn't they take it the wrong way?" Ji-yoon asked, rummaging through her bag to find the chocolate frogs. "Besides, there's not much to do other than wash the dishes. Iaia Cruz already asked them not to take off the decorations. Avi Antonio got in trouble, I think, and he'll do it himself."

Jin-woo hummed. His sight stuck on their hoard after that year's obstacle course. "Wouldn't hurt to try. Worst case, Brownie leaves the extra sweets untouched and messes up our room."

"All right." His sister complied and took a few all-flavoured beans' pouches and two cauldron cakes. "Should we leave them a chocolate frog, too?"

The twins dashed downstairs, where the tray of sweets and the glass of wine—courtesy of Avi Antonio—was already prepared at the corner of the kitchen by Brownie's chair. Both left their sweets, along with a couple of extra gifts, like Ji-yoon's chocolate frog and a few cookies from Jin-woo's Cookie Tower. Their parents placed a kiss on their cheeks and wished them goodnight as they went back to their room.

Per usual, Ji-yoon stuck to her preference for the bottom bunk, while Jin-woo had to accept defeat and take the top one. They kept on chattering well into the night, wondering aloud what state their room would be in, as well as the promised visit to Diagon Alley. It had been quite a while since the last time both had gone there, perhaps up to two or three years. One thing was for sure, they had to go to Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop—buy more of those wet-start fireworks to put the Dursleys back in their place.

The next morning, a falling book hit Jin-woo right on the bridge of his nose. He jolted up, sitting at the edge of his bed while looking up, where the ceiling rested untouched. His sister had his same reaction when something fell on her too, forcing her to get out of bed to take in their arguably new room.

Jin-woo could hardly believe he wasn't dreaming. Their usual room wasn't a mess, but it would be common to find clothes hanging off the chair or things left forgotten on the desk. There was nothing remotely similar that morning. The clothes were folded on the desk—which was cleaned up and sparkling—along with the cupboard beside the bed, which had changed their stacked up clothes for having them neatly on the hangers.

A knock appeared on their door, their father as speechless at the state of their room as they were. "So, um, question, did either of you gift Brownie something special yesterday? The entire house is sparkling clean." The twins exchanged dubious glances but thought that they had done nothing too out of the ordinary. "All right… Your grandma's asking for you. She wants to leave early for Diagon Alley. Says there will be lots of people later."

The twins had to hold in their laughter when they went down to the living room to have breakfast. Brownie could have cleaned up the entire house, but they had left the decorations untouched, per Iaia Cruz's request. Avi Antonio had to hold his morning coffee cup with his right hand, while the left was too occupied, darting from one point to another to take off the decorations.

"You think he gets tired?" Ji-yoon whispered to her brother. "I mean, it's a prosthetic arm, but it's still part of him, magic and all, right?"

Jin-woo shrugged, his eyes stuck on his Avi's curious prosthetic left arm. "Not a clue. Think it could one day get up and leave? Feels like a sentient being sometimes, doesn't it?"

Not a word uttered, Iaia Cruz cleared her throat, gaining their silence. "Niños, if you're so eager to talk, I'd like to know if you've thought yet about your career path."

"They're only kids, mum," said their father tiredly.

Avi Antonio brought the coffee cup to his lips. "Early teenagers. They'll have to settle down soon enough. Better off away from the magical world, if you ask me. Muggles are way more predicable. Easier to trick."

Their father scoffed. "Thanks, papá."

Talk about the future swiftly left the table, leaving the family to resort to Iaia Cruz's planning for the day at Diagon Alley. Everyone listened in carefully, especially the twins, who awaited impatiently the moment of the day they were the most eager for. Their alone time. They had some wizard author at Flourish and Blotts to thank for. The author that Iaia Cruz had grown fond of for the past year was old enough to not see another summer, which meant time for everyone to roam freely while she met them. However, they had to be back at The Leaky Cauldron before twelve o'clock.

Ji-yoon leaned closer to her brother, her eyebrows raised to accompany a mischievous smile. "We know where to go, don't we?"

A simple tap on the tablecloth made them both stop to sit bolt-upright. Iaia Cruz grabbed the wand from her pocket and paused. She took in their faces, which Jin-woo guessed had to be hilarious to her, and hummed something while pointing the wand at the table. The tablecloth, the dishes, and even the food disappeared.

"Favourite moment of the day," said Grandpa Seok-jin, his emerald green robes brushing past Señor, which stopped to stare blankly at two opposite points of the wall. "Side-along Apparating. Well? Who's first?"

The question was irrelevant. Grandpa Seok-jin had his sight fixated on the twins' father, who was quite sick-prone when it came to Apparating, Floo Powder, or anything magic-related. It delighted Grandpa Seok-jin, since that meant he got to have a Butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron while he rested. Their father knew that already, so he didn't bother to put up a fight. They were gone in the blink of an eye. Grandma Ha-eun took their mother's hand in hers, and just like that, every trace of them disappeared.

"Alright, Ji-yoon. Your hand, dear." Iaia Cruz grabbed his sister's hand while he took Avi Antonio's. The married couple stood quietly for a moment before they smiled at each other and said, "loser pays for Butter Beer."

Within seconds, they were standing at the far side of The Leaky Cauldron, near the fireplaces. They went up in green flames almost every minute, bringing with them a new person to the place. The people marching in took whatever seat was available and chatted away with whomever to gossip about the latest news. Until not long ago, there wasn't a moment Jin-woo went by without overhearing someone talk about his mother's non-magical birth as the first step to his family bloodline's disgrace. That day, there wasn't a person who missed the chance to talk about Harry Potter—The Boy Who Lived.

"He's not even eleven, and they already expect him to be the most talented wizard ever," Jin-woo mumbled.

His mother didn't breathe a word until they were out in Diagon Alley. People were left and right; admiring, buying, running, and playing. Not one person had a moment to gossip. Ji-yoon pointed over to their right. Lots of about-to-be first years were flocking around the broomstick shop. Avi Antonio said something about some newest broom, Nimbus-something, but nobody had much interest in it. Jin-woo could only be glad his days of flying class were well past him.

The first stop was at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Dozens of other kids were already inside, either being measured or waiting for their turn with their parents. Jin-woo sat beside a girl with sparkly blue robes as they watched Madam Malkin at work. Grandpa Seok-jin often praised her, but never would have Jin-woo imagined the extent that the praise was truly worthy. She was quick to decide for her clients, especially those who were on the younger side. The Hogwarts robes were no mystery to anybody, but, particularly girls, had large amounts of questions surrounding the lower part of their uniform. The length of the skirt was of great importance.

"Even an inch can make the difference between ease and discomfort," said Madam Makin to a shy first year, who tugged down on the bright red skirt that her parents had clearly fitted her into.

Minutes later, it was Jin-woo's turn. He stood quietly on the stool, watching Madam Malkin through the mirror as she danced around to get his measures. She asked many questions; his Hogwarts' favourite house, his favourite colour, and even what animal he was thinking to bring with him. When she was done, all he had answered her was, "I don't know".

With his new uniform prepared to be placed in the trunk and forgotten about until the first day of class, Jin-woo took a hold of his sister's hand and marched outside. They followed Iaia Cruz, whose list of basic requirements for what was left of his second school year could reach the ground if she kept on adding 'essentials' such as an extra pair of books in case he burnt the set, five ink pots and quills to match, and a spare portable cauldron to send in the mail when he inevitably burnt down his own. She suggested he would do better having two wands, just in case, but Grandma Ha-eun advised her against it. Apparently, the wizard in charge of the wand shop in Diagon Alley was as special as they came and would never take it well.

They were about to go into what looked like a rundown shop with shelves that reached the ceiling when Grandma Ha-eun exclaimed, "The book signing!"

Flourish and Blotts couldn't be further than five or six minutes away in The Leaky Cauldron's direction, yet time had slipped by unnoticed. The book signing was about to start in fifteen minutes, and since Iaia Cruz's favourite author would likely not be alive the following year, there was no time to waste. Jin-woo was sure the writer was about a hundred-something-years-old and noticeably decayed—the life of an adventurer, assured Avi Antonio.

Soon, they decided that the twins, along with their parents, would purchase the remaining items on the 'truly essential' list. After that, they could spend their free time until twelve o'clock however they pleased. Without hesitation, Jin-woo agreed. There was but one thing left on the list, and the box of No-Heat Fireworks was calling his and Ji-yoon's name all the way from Gambol and Japes Joke Shop. With great enthusiasm, Iaia Cruz planted two kisses on each of the twins' cheeks, making sure they were long, loud, and absolutely impossible to ignore.

Once their grandparents had vanished through the crowd, they both marched off to Ollivanders' quietly, their cheeks flushing red. Jin-woo wasn't sure if it was the kisses or the embarrassment causing it. The store was empty. With the shelves fully stocked up to the ceiling, it was impossible to catch a glimpse of a living person, even at the far back where Mr Ollivander would have to be. At the confusing leeway, his mother wandered off to the side, where the sight of several boxes messily stacked near the windowsill caught her attention. She didn't touch them, but was close enough to do so. Their father preferred to stick close to them. Despite the trembling hand on their shoulders, his face remained calm and composed. A contrast to how he shivered at Mr Ollivander's sudden appearance.

Despite appearing on the verge of retirement, Mr Ollivander's smile held a mysterious quality that Jin-woo could never mistake for mockery. "What may I do for you?"

"My wand got caught up in a Potion's accident," Jin-woo replied. "I need to buy a new one, sir."

"No problem," said Mr Ollivander with delight. "No problem at all, Mr…?"

Hoping to end the conversation, he replied with just "Jin-woo," but it seemed that wasn't enough. "Jin-woo Christopher Kim Muñoz, sir."

"Oh, a Kim!" Mr Ollivander exclaimed, his sight already lost somewhere in his busy storage-ceiling. "Both English oak wood, though your grandfather had quite an interesting one with a unicorn core, 10 inches and a slight springy flexibility. Great wand, that was."

Ji-yoon tugged on Jin-woo's sleeve, trying to get his attention, as Mr Ollivander's gaze remained fixated on the stacks of boxes. As she furrowed her brow and tilted her head in confusion, he realised there was no explanation he could offer. Despite two years of home-schooling, he was completely clueless about wands and couldn't make sense of the information they had received. He knew nothing about English oak, unicorns, or the connection between wand flexibility and power.

Once his mind snapped back to the present, Mr Ollivander's gaze fixed upon Jin-woo. "Tell me, which is your wand arm?"

The question took him aback. "Left, I think. Wand arm is the arm you write with, isn't it?"

Mr Ollivander disregarded the question. "Hold out your arm."

Jin-woo complied, standing still as Mr Ollivander took all the necessary measurements. Once he was sure of the exact measurement from Jin-woo's shoulder to his finger, he let him lower his arm and walked away towards the sea of stacked boxes. It apparently served for nothing, as chaos erupted the moment Jin-woo gripped the wand Mr Ollivander brought him. It sent wands flying like fiery arrows out of their boxes. Glass shattered, scattering shards like sparkling confetti. With a flick the following wand, bolts of lightning appeared from the tip, searing through the air.

Mr Ollivander took it away before any actual damage happened to his beloved wands, or, perhaps, the customer's family. Jin-woo swung another wand, and a gust of wind tore through the store, ripping boxes from their stacks and causing mountains of them to crumble. With a last shred of hope, Mr Ollivander pressed a jagged, pure-black wand into Jin-woo's hesitating hand.

Jin-woo couldn't be happier that nothing had happened. His gaze fixated on the rough wand, feeling the weight of it in his palm and noticing how the twists perfectly aligned with his fingers. Like a sudden gust of wind, a swirling sensation tore through him, an unfamiliar feeling that had no reason to exist.

"Curios. Very curious," said Mr Ollivander. "I would recommend treating this wand with extensive care, Mr Kim Muñoz."

"Yes, sir…" Jin-woo paused, yet couldn't help asking, "may I ask why it's so curious?"

"This wand was made from a highly special kind of persimmon tree—fine ebony wood—and has never given me permission to polish it," said Mr Ollivander. "You see, Mr Kim Muñoz, ordinary wand-sellers polish their wands for its holder's ease as well as, in some people's opinion, to adorn it. This wand wished to remain rough, and so I left it. Many years have gone by since then, persistently awaiting its right holder. Unicorn core, eleven inches, and unyielding—the wand chooses the wizard. It's not always clear why. What I think it is clear is that we can expect great things from you."

"Inspiring." Sensing his hesitation, his father quickly pulled him back towards his sister, ensuring they stayed together. "How much will it be, then?"

Ji-yoon stared in dubious awe at the stick her brother held close to his heart, as if that trinket of wood had become his most priced possession. "Friendly reminder you can't do magic outside of school."

Jin-woo chuckled. "Shut up."

"Is it really that exciting? Or was it the prophecy-like delusion that's got you like this?" Her face brightened with a mischievous grin. "Let's make sure you don't blow this one up like the last. Be thankful you bought that one in Spain. Can't imagine what Mr Ollivander would say if it had been one of his own wands."

Jin-woo felt his cheeks grow warm, but it wasn't his iaia's kisses that were to blame. He swiftly tucked the wand away, determined to prevent himself from making any reckless choices with it. He was sure that a mean comment from the gossip ladies at The Leaky Cauldron would be enough.

"So," he rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping to hide his embarrassment from his sister's teasing, "shall we head to the joke shop?"