Harry potter: I am the king of United Kingdom

The bell above Ollivanders' door chimed softly as Arthur Pendragon stepped inside, his companions following closely behind. The shop was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of old wood and parchment. Shelves stretched to the ceiling, packed with narrow boxes containing wands that radiated faint magical energy.

Ollivander himself emerged from the shadows, his silver eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Ah, young Pendragon," he said, his voice smooth and knowing. "I have been expecting you."

Arthur inclined his head respectfully. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ollivander."

"And you, my boy." The wandmaker studied Arthur for a moment, his gaze piercing. "You carry the weight of two great legacies. Let us see what wand shall choose you."

Ollivander began pulling boxes from the shelves, muttering to himself as he handed Arthur wand after wand.

"Elm, dragon heartstring, twelve inches… No? No, of course not. Birch, phoenix feather, ten and a half inches… Hmm, not quite."

Each wand Arthur tried seemed to reject him, vibrating violently or producing weak, sputtering sparks. Ollivander frowned in thought.

"Curious. Very curious," he murmured, disappearing into the depths of the shop.

After a few moments, he returned with a sleek black box. "This," Ollivander said with a hint of reverence, "is a wand I crafted for a wizard of extraordinary potential, though it never found its master. Blackthorn wood, unyielding and powerful. The core is unique—Kamaitachi fur, harvested from a wind spirit said to bring both protection and ferocity."

Arthur took the wand hesitantly. The moment his fingers closed around the smooth blackthorn, a surge of warmth coursed through him. A gust of wind swirled around the room, rustling the boxes on the shelves and causing Ollivander's hair to stir.

"Extraordinary," Ollivander breathed. "A perfect match."

Arthur stared at the wand in his hand, feeling its power resonate with his own. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander," he said quietly.

"Take good care of it, young Pendragon," Ollivander replied. "This wand will serve you well, but it will demand greatness in return."

A New Chapter Begins

The weeks passed quickly, and the day finally arrived for Arthur to leave for Hogwarts. The Pendragon family estate was alive with activity as servants bustled about, ensuring Arthur had everything he needed for the journey.

In his room, Arthur stood before a mirror, adjusting his robes. His wand, now resting in a custom holster on his arm, felt like an extension of himself. His mother entered the room, her expression proud but tinged with sadness.

"You've grown so much," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hogwarts will shape you into the wizard you're meant to be."

Arthur turned to her, his gaze steady. "I'll make you proud, Mother."

She smiled, her eyes glistening. "You already have."

At King's Cross Station, the platform was bustling with students and their families. Arthur stood with his mother, the imposing figure of a Pendragon heir drawing more than a few curious glances.

"You're ready for this," she said, her voice firm. "Remember who you are."

Arthur nodded. "I will."

As he stepped through the barrier to Platform 9¾, the sight of the scarlet Hogwarts Express filled him with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Near the train, he spotted Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, along with Draco Malfoy. The three waved him over, their faces lighting up at his arrival.

"Ready for this, Arthur?" Daphne asked with a grin.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he replied.

The group boarded the train together, finding a compartment near the back. As the train began to move, Arthur stared out the window, the Pendragon estate disappearing in the distance.

For the first time, he felt the weight of his destiny settle on his shoulders—not as a burden, but as a challenge he was determined to meet head-on.

Hogwarts awaited.