《Harry Potter: The Gryffindor Warrior - HP / Hogwarts》


 Chapter 1

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


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    Harry¡¯s high fever lasted for three full days, but finally, on the morning of the fourth day, his temperature dropped.


    This brought a slight sense of relief to the young doctor from the community hospital. He was under thirty, inexperienced, and had been assigned here due to his limited skills. Even so, he could sense that the two guardians standing by the boy¡¯s bedside, one towering and the other much shorter, were not in a good mood. In fact, despite Harry¡¯s fever breaking and the danger passing, both still looked deeply unhappy.


    The Dursleys were unhappy. Of course they were.


    Harry¡¯s sudden high fever had alarmed them. Though they had countless complaints about his parents, whom they preferred not to mention, they didn¡¯t dare be too harsh on the boy.


    God only knew what would happen if something went wrong with him. His kind, those dreadful, unnatural people, would surely come looking for answers. The last thing the Dursleys wanted was any form of contact with them. Unless, of course, it was to take the boy away permanently.


    The only silver lining was that the child rarely got sick. In fact, since he had come to live with them, this was the first time.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    When Harry woke up again, his eyes were filled with confusion.


    It felt as though he had been dreaming for a very long time.


    In his dream, he had met an old man with an incredibly long white beard.


    The old man had been terrifying, he had chased after Harry, forcing him to run and run. But in the end, the old man couldn¡¯t catch him. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the ground, and then, before Harry¡¯s eyes, he dissolved into countless silver-white specks of light.


    And then, Harry had woken up.


    As he looked around the room, a strange feeling washed over him. The entire world seemed different.


    At that moment, Harry¡¯s mind was flooded with unfamiliar knowledge, as if the old man from his dream had left something behind.


    It wasn¡¯t that Harry had never had dreams before, he had, but they always faded from his memory the moment he woke up. This time was different. He could recall everything with perfect clarity. He even remembered every wrinkle on the old man¡¯s stern face.


    And more than that, the knowledge from the dream felt real, as though it had been carved into his mind.


    The old man¡¯s name was Neil. He was a sorcerer from the Aegean continent. And apparently, he had been quite powerful. He had been assassinated, but his soul had been too strong to vanish immediately. Instead, it was swept into a rift of time and space, eventually drifting into this world, into Harry¡¯s mind, or perhaps even deeper, into his very soul.


    Neil had originally planned to devour Harry¡¯s soul and take over his body. However, after being weakened by the turbulence of space-time, he had failed. Instead, the struggle had consumed what little remained of his energy, and in the end, his soul had dissipated entirely, leaving behind only scattered memories and vast amounts of knowledge.


    "How could I have such an absurd dream if it feels so real?" thought Harry.


    Then.


    "¡­¡­%%&¡­¡­&¡­¡­&%¡­¡­"


    Harry raised his hand and muttered a string of strange syllables. It was part of the knowledge he had gained from the dream, a spell. If it worked, it was supposed to summon a fireball.


    His target? Dudley¡¯s baseball bat.


    But nothing happened.


    "How foolish of me to believe in dream nonsense." Harry pouted and shook his head.


    And yet, the very next moment!


    "Snap!"


    A tiny spark flickered in the palm of his hand. It was faint, like the small electric sparks from a lighter flint. Easy to miss.


    But Harry had been looking at his hand, mid-complaint, so he saw it.


    "What was that?" Harry blinked in disbelief. "Did I¡­ just do that? Could the things I dreamed about actually be real?"


    He tried again.


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    Nothing.


    He waited.


    Still nothing.


    "Maybe I imagined it." thought Harry.


    Harry pursed his lips in frustration, but then, suddenly, an overwhelming fatigue crashed over him. His limbs felt heavy, his head spun, and before he could resist, he collapsed backward onto the bed. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through his head.


    Excessive consumption of mental and magical energy.


    The phrase surfaced in his mind. Among the fragments of knowledge left by Neil, there was a description of this exact condition. And there was a solution to it.


    Meditation.


    A clear instruction appeared in his thoughts.


    Without questioning it, Harry followed the guidance, closing his eyes and imagining a peculiar symbol in his mind. Once the image became vivid, he attempted to change its color, just as the instructions dictated.


    It wasn¡¯t as easy as it sounded. Just forming the symbol clearly in his mind took time, and making it change color was even harder. It remained stubbornly multicolored instead of turning into a solid hue. Controlling the shift was nearly impossible.


    But Harry didn¡¯t give up.


    After what felt like an eternity, he finally succeeded.


    And as the symbol in his mind solidified, the piercing headache vanished. Not only that, but Harry felt sharper.


    It was a subtle shift. He couldn¡¯t suddenly hear Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon¡¯s voices downstairs, nor could he sense air currents or anything dramatic like that. But something was different.


    Harry got out of bed and sat cross-legged on the floor. A thin layer of dust and scattered debris floated around him, this room had once been Dudley¡¯s toy storage, and Aunt Petunia rarely bothered to clean it. Harry had only been moved here when the Dursleys decided they couldn¡¯t stand having him around any longer.


    That didn¡¯t mean Harry himself was particularly tidy, either.


    Tracing a strange pattern on the floor with his fingers, he whispered a series of unfamiliar syllables under his breath.


    For a second, nothing happened.


    Two seconds. Still nothing.


    Three seconds passed. No change.


    "Why isn¡¯t it working again?" Harry frowned. "Were the memories from the dream real? The sparks, the headache, and that so-called meditation technique were all illusions?"


    Just as confusion started creeping in, the pattern on the floor suddenly glowed.


    A moment later, a tiny ball of water, no larger than the tip of a thumb, appeared above the symbol.


    It hovered silently in midair.


    "Ah!" Harry gasped, startled. In his shock, his hand brushed against the drawn pattern, accidentally smudging part of it.


    The small water sphere lost its support and plummeted, splashing onto the dusty floor and dampening a tiny patch.


    "It ''s real! Everything from the dream, it was real!" Harry¡¯s eyes lit up.


    "Magic. It¡¯s real. Magic actually exists in this world!"


    The pattern he had drawn on the floor, according to the memories from his dream, was something called a magic circle.


    Though, if Old Neil¡¯s knowledge was correct, this particular spell was supposed to summon a water dragon. Instead, all Harry had managed was a droplet smaller than a marble.


    But still, the water had appeared from nowhere.


    So why wasn¡¯t it working as intended?


    Was it his fault? Or was it because this wasn¡¯t the world called Aegean?


    Harry delved into the fragments of knowledge lingering in his mind.


    The information was messy and scattered. Judging by the fragmented, chaotic memories left behind by Old Neil, it was likely that the sorcerer¡¯s soul had suffered severe trauma when it was torn through the turbulence of space-time.


    The sensation of recalling these memories was unlike remembering his own past. Instead, it felt as if his mind contained countless books, books without covers. He had to open them one by one to discover their contents.


    But once he opened a book, he instantly grasped its general knowledge.


    It was an exhilarating feeling, so much so that Harry found himself immersed in it, unable to stop.


    Finally, a particular piece of information caught his attention.


    Elemental intensity.


    Elements, or magical elements,were the foundation of all magic. When absorbed and stored within a person, they became magical powers.


    The world of Aegean was rich in these elements. Sorcerers there wielded their own magic power to manipulate nature¡¯s elements, creating extraordinarily powerful spells.


    But Aegean sorcerers had also discovered that in some places, planes, as they called them, the elements were sparse. One such place, which they referred to as the Astral Plane, contained almost no magical energy at all.


    Harry couldn¡¯t find any references to an Astral Plane in his inherited knowledge, but he began to wonder.


    Could Earth be one of these magic-starved worlds?


    He had no way to confirm it. At least, not right now.


    "If that¡¯s the case, then no wonder my magic isn¡¯t working the way it should." thought Harry.


    Earth was likely a world with very few magical elements. Without enough magic in the air, and with his own power still weak, his spells couldn¡¯t manifest properly.


    "What a shame."


    Harry sighed in disappointment. At the same time, another thought crossed his mind.


    "Were there other magic users in this world?"


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    "I want Harry¡¯s room!" Dudley whined loudly over dinner. "I want to put my TV and game console in there! Harry can¡¯t live there anymore!"


    "Well..." Uncle Vernon hesitated, clearly annoyed. Harry¡¯s illness had cost him a considerable amount of money. Though the Dursleys were relatively well-off, medical care in the UK was expensive, especially when you needed a doctor to visit your home. Public hospitals were cheaper, but getting an appointment could take at least two months.


    "Harry¡¯s already staying there. Where else do you expect him to sleep?" Vernon grumbled. "I don¡¯t want him in the living room. He¡¯d just get in the way of the telly."


    "Put him in the cupboard!" Dudley shouted. "He¡¯s so scrawny anyway, looks like a rat!"


    "That¡¯s¡­" Vernon hesitated. "That wouldn¡¯t be right, would it?"


    Child abuse was a serious crime in the UK, and forcing a minor to live in a cupboard would undoubtedly fall under that category.


    "There¡¯s nothing wrong with it." Petunia scoffed. She, of all people, Harry¡¯s own blood relative, was the first to dismiss the concern. "As Dudley said, he¡¯s thin enough, isn¡¯t he?"


    Harry was seriously ill, but the people who should have been worried, his mother''s kind, didn''t show up.


    Petunia was starting to think they had forgotten about the boy.


    Harry, watching her closely, found himself unsettled.


    Not because of her words. That kind of cruelty was nothing new. What unsettled him was the fact that, for the first time, he could see her emotions.


    He could read them.


    There was disgust.


    There was hatred.


    And there was, jealousy?


    Harry shook his head, pushing the thought aside. He had more pressing concerns.


    He wasn¡¯t going to live in a cupboard.


    No matter how thin he was.


    ----


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 Chapter 2

    [Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]


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    Harry sat cross-legged on the cot, now inside the storage cupboard under the stairs.


    Although he had been reluctant to enter, how could a seven-year-old child resist two adults and a fat boy who weighed more than some grown men?


    ¡°But I can''t let this be. There are less than two weeks until September, when I start second grade. If my classmates come over to play or if the teacher visits, should I tell them I live in a cupboard?" thought Harry


    Seven-year-old Harry didn''t realize that if his classmates or teachers at school found out he lived in a cupboard, his aunt and uncle, who constantly bullied him, would be in trouble.


    He wasn''t aware of that, he was only wondering how he could convince Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to let him move back into the small room he hadn''t even liked that much before.


    Harry was very smart, but his intelligence was still within the range of ordinary people. In the end, he was just a very clever seven-year-old.


    That¡¯s why the solution he came up with embarrassed him so much that, years later, he wanted to scratch the walls every time he thought about it. Yet, Harry was grateful for his choice because, in the end, things turned out well.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    "Dudley, I have something to discuss with you!" Harry approached Dudley with a shy expression and a smile. He would never have done this before, Dudley and his friends usually treated him like a punching bag. Harry always stayed as far away from Dudley as possible.


    This move obviously made Dudley a little uncomfortable. The chubby boy stared at Harry blankly and asked, almost instinctively, "What do you want to talk about?"


    "It¡¯s working!"


    Harry was thrilled. Of course, he had prepared before daring to approach Dudley.


    This was a small form of mental magic called mind control, which could influence the emotions of people with weak wills. Harry had tested it before, his mental power (a concept from the Aegean world) was still too weak, meaning he couldn¡¯t affect strong-minded individuals. Normal adults, like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, were completely immune to his influence.


    So, the only ones he could affect were children or small animals?


    Harry had tested it, and Mrs. Figg¡¯s cats proved it worked, at least on small creatures. So, he decided to try it on Dudley.


    The defenseless Dudley froze for a moment as Harry approached, and that was all the opportunity Harry¡¯s mental magic needed to slip in.


    "Dudley, you know there¡¯s going to be a test at the start of the school year, right? Are you ready?" Harry felt like the Big Bad Wolf tricking the little pigs.


    Dudley¡¯s expression instantly twisted in discomfort. Elementary school subjects were incredibly simple, at least, that¡¯s what Harry thought. But all the energy Dudley got from food was used to fuel his physical growth, especially horizontally. That had affected his brain function to some degree.


    He wasn¡¯t exactly stupid, but he certainly wasn¡¯t bright. On top of that, he hated studying, so his grades were terrible.


    Every test was almost a nightmare for Dudley because the results were sent home by letter.


    These were the only times that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia ever argued with Dudley, although occasionally, they did it together. For example, in the third monthly exam of the previous school year, Dudley had scored a zero in math.


    "You have a solution?" Dudley asked hesitantly. He was confused about why he was suddenly willing to listen to this cousin he didn¡¯t even like. And yet, something about what the other boy was saying made sense.


    Seeing Dudley¡¯s expression, Harry knew he had taken the bait. Smiling, he said, "I have a special study method that can help you quickly master the material you need for the exam. But I have to get back to my old room."


    Dudley eyed him suspiciously before finally raising his fist. "If you dare lie to me, I¡¯ll use you as a punching bag to test out my new boxing gloves."


    "No problem!" Harry replied proudly.


    That night, Dudley cried and screamed for Harry to return to his original room, which made Uncle Vernon furious. Even though Harry''s bed was foldable and easy to move, carrying it up and down the stairs was still a difficult task, especially for someone of Uncle Vernon¡¯s size.


    However, except during exam season, Dudley was the absolute favorite in the household. So, in the end, Harry got his small room back, though half of the space was still taken up by Dudley¡¯s miscellaneous junk.


    Harry was more than satisfied. As for what to do with Dudley next, he already had a plan.


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    A Special Study Method?


    Of course, Harry had no intention of actually teaching Dudley anything!


    But he did have a bit of magical shorthand. This spell allowed people to retain a large amount of information in a short period of time. Its original purpose was to help wizards memorize highly complex magical arrays.


    After all, drawing a magic circle had to be completed within a limited timeframe. The sequences involved were often so intricate that even experienced wizards struggled to memorize them all. So, when necessary, they would consult books or notes, use the shorthand spell to commit the circle to memory, and then transcribe it.


    The only drawback? The spell¡¯s effects lasted for just seven days, and since school started in September, with the first exams happening around that time, it was perfect timing.


    Harry was thrilled. It was the first time he had truly used magic, and both the process and the results felt amazing.


    Of course, dealing with Dudley alone wasn¡¯t enough. If he truly wanted to live comfortably in this house, he had to get along with his aunt and uncle as well. But that was easier said than done, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon seemed to despise him from the depths of their souls.


    Still, Harry now had leverage.


    All he needed was time.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Four Years Later


    The Dursleys, who lived at 4 Privet Drive, had become the most admired and envied family in the entire neighborhood.


    It wasn¡¯t just because they were now the richest household on the block. No, what truly set them apart was the fact that both of their children had outstanding academic records.


    It was unbelievable.


    That chubby boy, who usually looked like a complete fool, somehow aced every test.


    At one point, his teacher even suspected him of cheating. But after multiple observations, it was confirmed that he definitely wasn¡¯t. In the end, the teacher concluded that Dudley was simply an exam-focused student, not particularly remarkable in class, but exceptionally skilled when it came to taking tests.


    Of course, if that were the only thing, the neighbors would have felt jealous, but not in awe.


    What truly amazed people was how kind the Dursleys were to their nephew, who was staying with them, just as kind as they were to their own son. It was wonderful that Mrs. Dursley treated her late sister¡¯s child so warmly, but what was even more rare and admirable was that Mr. Dursley did the same.


    It was true that, over the years, Vernon and Petunia had been very good to Harry.


    But to say their kindness was genuine?


    Not exactly.


    The real reason they treated Harry well was purely motivated by profit.


    For Aunt Petunia, it was simple: she was extremely pleased with Dudley¡¯s consistently high test scores ever since he started spending time with Harry. But even more than that, what truly delighted her was that Dudley never got sick anymore.


    Harry himself had never been sick since childhood. The only exception was a high fever when he was seven years old, but apart from that, he had never even caught a cold.


    Dudley, despite being chubby and strong, used to fall ill at least two or three times a year, which was normal for a child.


    However, ever since he started spending time with Harry, he hasn''t gotten sick even once.


    That alone saved the family a fortune in medical expenses, even though their income had significantly increased over the past few years.


    And speaking of increased income.


    That was exactly why Uncle Vernon¡¯s attitude toward Harry had changed.


    It all started three years ago, when Vernon¡¯s company, Grunnings, was competing for a major international contract. At the time, the company had several strong competitors, and no clear advantage over them.


    For weeks, Vernon had been in a foul mood, snapping at everyone, even Dudley wasn¡¯t spared.


    The turning point came on the final day of a crucial multi-party meeting, where each company had to present and defend their proposal. As a supervisor, Vernon was in charge of presenting on behalf of Grunnings, and he was extremely nervous about it.


    That morning, Harry handed him a tiny paper star, saying it would bring him good luck.


    The Dursleys hated anything remotely unscientific, so Vernon angrily rejected it. But Dudley, being Dudley, made a huge fuss and stuffed the star into Vernon¡¯s briefcase.


    Vernon, not wanting to waste energy arguing with his son, let it slide. He planned to deal with Harry later, maybe even scold Dudley a little while he was at it, to remind everyone who was in charge.


    But then, something incredible happened.


    That day, Vernon¡¯s luck was unbelievable.


    He had a smooth drive to work, avoiding traffic and narrowly missing a group of troublemakers on the street.


    During the presentation, he spoke with confidence, debated skillfully with the academic panel, and impressed everyone in the room. His performance even brought honor to the entire company.


    The deal was secured.


    When Vernon returned to his office and began sorting through his briefcase, his eyes fell on the tiny paper star at the bottom.


    Had this been a one-time coincidence, he wouldn¡¯t have thought much of it.


    But it kept happening. Again and again, for the next three years, every time Vernon had a major business opportunity, things would mysteriously go his way.


    Until earlier this year, when Vernon secured a massive deal that earned him a promotion to General Manager of the entire Northern Region.


    At that point, he had no choice but to believe it.


    Maybe, just maybe, the boy he had despised all these years really did have some kind of strange gift.


    "After all... his parents¡­"


    Vernon violently shook his head, pushing away thoughts that had no business being in his mind. He refused, absolutely refused, to think about anything related to magic.


    "Luck! Luck is enough!"


    That was the most absurd concept Vernon was willing to accept.


    If Vernon had a more vivid imagination, perhaps he would have thought of an ostrich at that moment, because his mentality was exactly like one.


    Burying his head in the sand.


    As if that would protect him from the dangerous reality lurking just outside his field of vision.


    Of course, Harry wasn¡¯t actually making people luckier. Fairy tales might talk about wizards who could brew liquid luck, but Harry didn¡¯t have that ability.


    What he had used on Vernon was a small mental spell called Renewal.


    For years, Harry had been experimenting with magic from the Aegean world, but elemental magic didn¡¯t seem to work well on Earth. It wasn¡¯t completely useless, but the effects were severely weakened.


    However, mental magic was a different story.


    This particular spell, Renewal, could temporarily enhance a person¡¯s mental state, making them more alert, energetic, and quick-thinking.


    The effects included:


    -Faster reasoning


    -Sharper memory


    -Increased energy levels


    The side effect?


    A deep exhaustion that would last a day or two afterward.


    That day, during the presentation, Uncle Vernon had been at his absolute peak, sharp, persuasive, and brimming with confidence.


    Naturally, things had gone perfectly.


    And as for the fatigue afterward?


    Well, it was only natural to feel exhausted after an intense work period, wasn¡¯t it?


    At least, Uncle Vernon had never questioned it. He was too busy believing it was just luck.


    A very stubborn ostrich indeed.


    ----


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 Chapter 3

    [Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]


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    Harry was surprised to discover that he could talk to snakes.


    This wasn''t like speaking to dogs or cats, where you could use simple commands to make them perform actions or respond in limited ways. With snakes, he could actually communicate. The snake could understand what he said, and he could understand what the snake said in return. It was truly magical.


    He had almost managed to separate the memories and fragments of knowledge that belonged to Neil from the Aegean world. There was a lot of chaos among them, most of the information was fragmented and couldn''t form a coherent system.


    This was probably because Neil¡¯s soul had been severely damaged. Harry had already come to terms with the fact that someone from another world had somehow ended up inside his mind, once even trying to fight him for control of his body, but ultimately failing.


    Although most of Neil¡¯s knowledge was scattered and disorganized, making it largely unusable, there were still many valuable bits. Harry had used them to significantly improve his family¡¯s financial status. And, of course, he had no intention of letting anyone know that he had mastered magic.


    First, because his aunt and uncle despised anything related to magic, and Harry had no desire to get into unnecessary conflict with them, especially now that his life was relatively stable.


    Second, because he had watched plenty of TV shows and movies where people with special abilities were eventually captured by secret government agencies, taken to labs, and experimented on. The last thing he wanted was to end up strapped to an operating table under blinding lights while some scientist in a white coat dissected him to see if he was different from an ordinary person.


    Even though he had mastered several strange little spells, Harry was certain that none of them would allow him to understand what other animals were saying.


    Then, earlier today, something unexpected happened.


    It was the day before summer vacation, the last day of elementary school. In just a few months, both Harry and Dudley would be starting middle school.


    Since it was Dudley¡¯s birthday, the Dursleys had taken him, Harry, and one of Dudley¡¯s best friends to the zoo. Near the end of their visit, they arrived at the reptile house, where Harry and Dudley became fascinated by a massive Brazilian python.


    As Dudley tried to provoke the lazy, unbothered snake, Harry suddenly realized that he could understand what it was saying. More than that, the python could understand him, too.


    The snake kept repeating, "I want to get out. I want to get out."


    Harry stared at the thick, reinforced glass. He knew at least a dozen ways to break it silently, ensuring that no one would ever suspect he was involved. Although the magic he had accumulated over the years wasn¡¯t yet powerful enough to perform the spells he truly wanted, he had still mastered a few useful tricks.


    But why would he help a giant python escape?


    What if it decided to eat him?


    Harry wasn¡¯t exactly large, his small body would make for an easy meal. In comparison, Dudley was much safer. With his size, even the massive python in front of them would have trouble swallowing him in one bite.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    When Harry got home, he was still thinking about the enormous snake from the zoo. It occupied his mind so much that when Dudley asked him to play one last game on the Nintendo, he refused. Normally, he would have joined happily, thoroughly beaten his older cousin, and then laughed at Dudley¡¯s frustrated, unwilling expression.


    Even though Dudley was overweight, he was surprisingly athletic. Apart from running and football, where a lighter body had an advantage, Harry wasn¡¯t a match for Dudley in most sports. What frustrated Harry the most was that he couldn¡¯t even beat him in basketball.


    "A big, nimble guy under the basket" that was a perfect description of Dudley!


    But when it came to video games, Harry could completely crush Dudley, no matter what kind of game they played.


    Although Dudley¡¯s arms and legs were quite strong, his fingers didn¡¯t seem flexible enough, at least not when using the controller. Harry, on the other hand, had quick, nimble fingers, capable of playing the piano. In fact, he had practiced piano for a while, but since he didn¡¯t progress much, he eventually gave up.


    Lying in bed, Harry was lost in thought about the Brazilian python when Aunt Petunia¡¯s voice suddenly interrupted him, calling him down for dinner. He got up, ran his fingers through his slightly messy hair, and tied it back.


    Yes, Harry had long hair, down to his waist.


    It was one of his little quirks, something he used to mislead people.


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    Before the age of six, Harry had been an adorable little boy, just cute, nothing more. But after turning six, everything changed drastically.


    His facial features became softer, his eyes grew larger, his chin became more pointed, his nose slightly upturned, his lips smaller, and his skin noticeably paler. But the most remarkable change was his eyes. Once a bright emerald green, they gradually shifted to a light brown.


    All of these changes happened in just one year, between the ages of six and seven. If you compared a photo of Harry before six to one taken after seven, almost no one would believe it was the same person.


    The transformation was so strange that Harry sometimes wondered if it had something to do with the magic he had learned from Neil.


    Then, one day, Aunt Petunia accidentally remarked, ¡°Harry, you look so much like your mother when she was a child, except for the eyes.¡±


    That was when it hit him, he really did resemble his mother as a child.


    Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t a single photo of his mother or father anywhere in Aunt Petunia¡¯s house, so he had no way to see for himself just how much he looked like her.


    And this is where things got interesting.


    Although Harry had a boy¡¯s body and was completely normal in every way, his face looked remarkably like that of a girl, a very pretty girl.


    In the UK, students often changed schools or transferred frequently, with more than half of the classmates being replaced every couple of months. Because of this, many new students were confused about Harry¡¯s gender.


    Many girls assumed he was one of them and would invite him to play.


    Many boys also approached him, thinking the same thing.


    However, while his face resembled a girl¡¯s, his voice was unmistakably that of a boy. To make things even funnier, his voice had started changing early, becoming rough and deep. Whenever he spoke, he would often startle new classmates. Harry found this incredibly amusing, so he simply decided to keep growing his hair out.


    His hair was in excellent condition, even better than that of most girls, cascading down his back like a waterfall. And since his body was still small and hadn¡¯t changed much yet, people continued mistaking him for a girl, only to be shocked when he spoke.


    Harry thought the whole situation was hilarious. And it wasn¡¯t just him, Dudley and the others found it amusing too.


    Even the students who had been tricked ended up enjoying the joke. In fact, many of them eagerly watched to see others fall into the same misunderstanding. Of course, how much of their amusement came from wanting others to be fooled so they wouldn¡¯t feel as stupid themselves was another question entirely.


    Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia weren¡¯t exactly pleased with Harry growing his hair out, but in the end, they allowed it. And in doing so, Harry¡¯s status in the family became clear.


    He casually smoothed his hair, put on his glasses, he had been slightly nearsighted for a while now, though not severely. It was probably due to all the time he spent reading comic books and playing video games.


    During dinner, Aunt Petunia announced that both Harry and Dudley would be attending her and Uncle Vernon¡¯s old school, Smeltings Academy. It was a prestigious institution with strict admission requirements. If Dudley had tried to get in without Harry¡¯s help, Uncle Vernon would likely have had to pay thousands of pounds in tuition and scholarships.


    But with Harry¡¯s assistance, Dudley passed all the entrance exams effortlessly. Getting accepted was easy, and for Harry, it was no challenge at all. Even without using magic, his memory was sharp enough to handle almost any test.


    Smeltings Academy uniforms were elegant and of excellent quality, but they were also quite expensive. Students could either order them directly from the school or purchase them independently. The former was costly, but the latter could be significantly cheaper if they found the right supplier.


    During dinner, Aunt Petunia discussed where to get tailored uniforms. She was clearly reluctant to let the school make extra money off her, especially after they had already profited from her once.


    Uncle Vernon, however, saw no need to rush. Both Harry and Dudley were growing fast, and if they bought the uniforms now, they might not fit properly by the time school started in two months.


    Aunt Petunia admitted that his reasoning made sense, but Dudley insisted that, for now, they at least get him a Smeltings stick. His parents didn¡¯t object. In fact, ever since Dudley¡¯s academic performance had drastically improved with Harry¡¯s help, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon rarely denied him anything.


    So, in the third week of summer vacation, on the first day of July, Dudley got his cane.


    Harry wasn¡¯t particularly interested, it wasn¡¯t a necessity. And since he never brought it up, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon simply pretended it wasn¡¯t an issue, saving themselves a considerable amount of money.


    Harry didn¡¯t mind in the slightest. He and Dudley had a great relationship. At first, it was because Harry had helped Dudley improve his grades before the entrance exams, but over time, they had simply become close cousins who had grown up together.


    And, if Harry ever wanted to mess around with it, Dudley¡¯s cane could easily end up in his hands.


    As it turned out, Dudley was only interested in his cane for about a morning. By the afternoon, he had already tossed it into some corner of the house.


    Instead, he eagerly dragged Harry back to play video games. Though the outcome was predictable, a crushing defeat, he refused to give up, swearing that next time, he would beat Harry.


    The two of them played until late at night, and as a result, they stumbled downstairs for breakfast the next morning, yawning and half-asleep.


    Harry went to the front door to collect the newspaper and check for any mail.


    Ever since Uncle Vernon¡¯s promotion, the amount of mail arriving at the house had increased significantly. Many were letters from his business colleagues or partners wanting to stay in touch. There were also several bills, mostly from Aunt Petunia¡¯s credit card purchases, which had noticeably increased since Uncle Vernon became a regional manager.


    Sure enough, when Harry picked up the newspaper, he found four or five envelopes along with it.


    Three were from the bank, addressed to Aunt Petunia, and one was for Uncle Vernon. But the last one.


    The last letter was addressed to him.


    This wasn¡¯t the first time Harry had received a letter.


    He often got notes from his classmates, both boys and girls, though mostly from girls.


    Harry was, undeniably, very handsome. Though he had grown older and no longer looked like a girl as he had in previous years, he was still strikingly attractive. Because of this, many girls wanted to spend time with him. But Harry, having no particular interest in girls yet, never really saw the appeal.


    Even though receiving letters wasn¡¯t unusual, this one made him instantly more alert, shaking off his drowsiness.


    Because the address on the envelope was unusually precise:


    Surrey, Little Whinging, 4 Privet Drive, 2nd Floor, Second Room on the Left ¨C For Mr. Harry Potter.


    This was the first time Harry had ever seen a letter addressed so specifically to his exact bedroom.


    ----


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 Chapter 4

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    "Is This a Prank from a Classmate?"


    Harry found it quite interesting. None of his classmates had ever played a prank like this before,it was really creative.


    The envelope of this letter was made of thick parchment, a material rarely used nowadays. After all, it was heavy and not the easiest to write on. The only advantage was its durability, it wouldn¡¯t tear easily. Still, modern postal services were reliable. It wasn¡¯t like centuries ago when letters had to be bundled together and tossed onto the back of a carriage, left to rattle around during the journey.


    The address was written in an unusual green ink, which immediately caught Harry¡¯s attention. However, what intrigued him the most was the absence of a postage stamp.


    Turning the envelope over, he noticed that it was sealed with wax. This was the first time Harry had ever seen something like that. There was a design imprinted in the wax, a capital letter "H"


    Handing the newspaper to Uncle Vernon, Harry sat at the table and carefully cut the wax seal with his dinner knife. He didn¡¯t want to damage such a delicate and intriguing envelope.


    Pulling out the letter, he read through it quickly and then broke into a playful grin. Laughing, he turned to Dudley and said, "Dudley, I just got a very interesting letter. I wonder who sent it, it''s really creative!"


    It was a letter claiming to be an acceptance letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


    Harry found it amusing that something like this had arrived on April 1st, rather than during the summer holidays. But he had to admit, it was a well-crafted prank. The letter and envelope were impressively made.


    "Hogwarts? What a ridiculous name!" Dudley scoffed, glancing at the letter and laughing.


    Harry was about to reply when he heard a sharp crash. His Aunt Petunia had dropped a plate, which shattered upon hitting the kitchen floor. There was no carpet to cushion the fall, so the ceramic broke instantly.


    "You scared me!" Dudley complained, annoyed.


    "Oh, oh, I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry¡­" Aunt Petunia stammered, looking flustered. Strangely, she didn¡¯t even call Dudley ¡°darling¡± as she usually did. Instead, she quickly grabbed a broom to sweep up the broken pieces before pulling Uncle Vernon, who had lowered his newspaper, his face unusually tense, into the other room. They left their breakfast unfinished.


    Harry watched them disappear behind the closed door, puzzled. Their reaction was odd.


    After a moment of thought, his expression shifted. Aunt Petunia had dropped the plate right after Dudley mentioned Hogwarts. Could it be that they had heard of this supposed magic school before?


    That didn¡¯t seem likely. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had no sense of humor whatsoever. They weren¡¯t the type to play along with pranks like this.


    Harry frowned, deep in thought. The Dursleys didn¡¯t look like they were reacting to a joke, on the contrary.


    A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes as he considered their behavior. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were almost paranoid in their aversion to anything remotely related to magic. That was unusual, most old-fashioned school teachers wouldn¡¯t mind if a student casually said, "That¡¯s just magic!" when surprised by something.


    But the Dursleys? They reacted with strong disgust and hostility whenever magic was even mentioned.


    Harry had always found that strange. And now, for the first time, a thought crossed his mind: "Could magic actually be real? Was Hogwarts truly a real school of magic? And did Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon know about it?"


    Most people wouldn¡¯t even entertain such a wild idea. But Harry was different, because, deep down, he knew he could do things that others couldn¡¯t.


    If he could use magic, then it wasn¡¯t too hard to believe that others could as well.


    And if there were people who could do magic, then it only made sense that there would be a school to teach them.


    Harry grabbed the letter from Dudley and unfolded the second page. It contained a list of required school supplies and some additional instructions. The more he read, the stronger his suspicion became.


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    Maybe, just maybe, his guess was right.


    Returning to the First Page of the Letter


    Harry''s eyes fell on the last sentence: "We await your owl to deliver your response by July 31st."


    "Well, that''s awkward. Where am I supposed to find an owl?" Harry muttered.


    Bang, bang, bang!


    A sharp tapping sound came from the window. Harry turned toward the noise, and his eyes suddenly widened.


    A dark gray owl was perched on the windowsill, staring at him with round, unblinking eyes. As soon as it noticed him looking, it tapped on the glass twice.


    Up until now, Harry had only thought there was a small chance that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry might actually exist. But at this moment, his certainty shot up to 70, no, maybe even 80 percent.


    Just as he stood up to open the window and let the owl in, Aunt Petunia¡¯s bedroom door suddenly swung open. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon stepped out. The moment Petunia spotted the owl, she shrieked, rushed toward the window, and slammed it shut, scaring the bird away.


    Harry raised an eyebrow, sensing a wave of emotions radiating from her.


    His ability to perceive others'' emotions wasn¡¯t very strong, at least, not yet. He figured that if his mental power grew, he might be able to read people''s emotions more easily. But at this stage, he could only detect strong emotional fluctuations.


    And right now, Aunt Petunia wasn¡¯t just furious, she was also jealous.


    That was strange. Aunt Petunia was a petty woman, but she rarely harbored such intense hatred. In fact, Harry had only sensed this kind of emotion from her once before, when the wealthy wife of an important client had visited their home.


    That woman had been dripping in jewelry, and Aunt Petunia had been seething with envy. But despite her resentment, she had forced a smile and worked alongside Uncle Vernon to flatter their guest.


    Aside from that occasion, there was only one other time Petunia had felt such jealousy, when she looked at him.


    In the past, Harry had thought his aunt envied his good looks. After all, he was quite handsome, the kind of boy who could charm both boys and girls into giving him sweets. But later, he realized it wasn¡¯t him she envied, it was his mother.


    And that made sense. Since Harry was handsome, and Aunt Petunia had mentioned that he resembled his mother, it stood to reason that his mother must have been beautiful.


    But right now, as Petunia radiated that same jealous fury, a new thought crept into Harry¡¯s mind, one he had never considered before.


    What if magic truly existed in this world?


    What if Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon knew about Hogwarts?


    And what if Harry could use magic not just because of Neil, but for another reason, something inherent to him?


    Something genetic?


    Then a possibility he had never even imagined before suddenly took shape in his mind.


    "Could My Mother, or Maybe My Father, Have Been a Wizard?"


    Was it possible that his mother, or perhaps his father, was a wizard? And Aunt Petunia, clearly not having become a witch herself, had felt jealousy, which had then turned into resentment. After his mother passed away, that resentment had been redirected toward him, because he resembled her.


    It made sense.


    When Aunt Petunia turned around, she noticed Harry staring at her strangely. Forcing a smile, she said, ¡°Let¡¯s eat, let¡¯s eat. The grilled fish is quite good today¡­¡±


    ¡°Mum, you¡¯re acting weird today.¡±


    Dudley had finally looked up from his plate. He had been too focused on his food to notice anything before. All the noise around him had barely registered.


    ¡°Not at all, Dudley dear,¡± Aunt Petunia replied quickly. ¡°After dinner, go play with Pierre and Danny. I need to have a word with Harry¡­¡± Her voice had a distant quality to it.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Dudley didn¡¯t think much of it. He simply nodded and continued eating. His appetite was just as large as he was.


    Dudley left early after dinner, and before Uncle Vernon headed out to work, he gave Harry and Aunt Petunia a strange look, but in the end, he said nothing.


    Once they were alone, Aunt Petunia motioned for Harry to sit on the living room sofa. She sat across from him, her expression serious.


    ¡°Harry, you¡¯ve always been clever. Strange things have happened around you. I assume you¡¯ve already figured something out?¡±


    Her face was unreadable, but Harry recognized that expression. Four or five years ago, she used to look at him that way all the time. However, ever since he had helped bring good fortune to Vernon and improved Dudley¡¯s school performance, thereby increasing his standing in the household, she had stopped looking at him like that.


    Harry didn¡¯t overthink it. He simply nodded. ¡°It seems that magic really does exist in this world.¡±


    For a brief moment, Petunia¡¯s face twisted in disgust and jealousy, but she nodded in the end.


    ¡°Yes, magic¡­ Haha.¡± Her laugh was bitter. ¡°Your mother, your father, that Potter, they were all wizards. Graduates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry¡­¡±


    She paused, her voice trembling slightly. ¡°Can I see the letter?¡±


    Harry didn¡¯t hesitate. He handed it to her.


    Petunia¡¯s hands shook slightly as she took the letter, but as she flipped through the two pages, her expression became strange. Then, she let out a laugh, self-deprecating, almost hollow.


    ¡°Dumbledore¡­ After all these years, it¡¯s still the same name? I suppose wizards have quite long lifespans¡­¡±


    Then, she tossed the letter back to Harry and leaned back into the sofa, her face returning to its previous stoic silence.


    ¡°Harry, are you going? To Hogwarts?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I really want to go,¡± Harry answered honestly.


    ¡°Then go.¡± Petunia waved a hand dismissively as she stood up. ¡°But let me make one thing clear, I¡¯m not paying a single penny for you to attend Hogwarts!¡±


    Harry wasn¡¯t surprised. The Dursleys had always despised anything remotely connected to magic. And based on Aunt Petunia¡¯s reaction, Harry was 80% sure that she had once wanted to go to Hogwarts, but clearly, she had never received a letter.


    From admiration to hatred?


    It wasn¡¯t the perfect phrase, but Harry couldn¡¯t shake the thought.


    Still, if what she said was true, she wouldn¡¯t pay a cent for his tuition.


    Then how was he supposed to afford school fees and supplies?


    Harry suddenly felt a twinge of anxiety. Surely, magical schools weren¡¯t free?


    ----


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 Chapter 5

    [Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    Aunt Petunia returned to her room, and Harry imagined she was in a bad mood.


    If things were as Harry suspected, Aunt Petunia had watched her sister get chosen for a school of magic while she herself had been left behind. And now, she was seeing Harry receive the same opportunity. She must have been utterly miserable.


    However, Harry wasn¡¯t too concerned about Aunt Petunia¡¯s distress. She had excellent self-control and would likely compose herself by noon. What preoccupied him more at the moment was the owl, Aunt Petunia had chased it away. So how was he supposed to send a reply?


    As he mulled over this dilemma, Harry opened the door and stepped outside for a walk.


    The moment he did, the large owl was perched atop the street sign just outside the yard, directly in front of the door.


    In broad daylight, instead of finding a place to rest, the owl lingered, watching the house. That was truly magical.


    "Are you waiting for my response?" Harry walked up to the owl and asked curiously. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a bit foolish. Why did he think the owl could understand and respond to him? After his experience talking to the snake at the zoo, he had tried speaking with other small animals, but none had ever answered.


    To his surprise, the owl seemed to understand. It hooted twice and nodded.


    "Well, that¡¯s interesting," Harry said with a grin. "Wait here for a moment."


    He turned and ran back inside, heading straight to his room. Sitting at his small desk, he began drafting a response.


    "Dear¡­ hmm, should I address this to McGonagall or Dumbledore? Well, the last signature on the letter was McGonagall, so it must be her!" thought Harry.


    Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,


    I am honored to receive your letter. I¡¯m very excited to attend Hogwarts and study magic, to become a witch, or is it a wizard? It should be a wizard. Anyway, I do have a problem.


    I don¡¯t know how to get to school, nor do I know where to buy my supplies. Even worse, I don¡¯t have any money to pay for tuition. I¡¯m not sure if the school can help with my situation, but I hope to hear from you soon.


    Sincerely,


    Harry Potter


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    After reviewing his letter and making minor adjustments to ensure it sounded polite, Harry felt satisfied. Just as he was about to go downstairs, he heard tapping on his bedroom window.


    Turning around, he saw that the large owl had returned and was now perched on the windowsill.


    "Amazing!" Harry murmured.


    Despite all the magical things that had happened to him recently, he still found this owl incredibly fascinating. It was so intelligent that it barely seemed like an animal at all.


    "Could it be a transformed wizard?" He entertained the thought for a brief moment but quickly dismissed it as unlikely.


    Opening the window, he handed the folded letter to the owl. It took the envelope in its beak, turned, spread its massive wings, and soared into the sky.


    "If it flies around so openly, someone might shoot it down with a hunting rifle or a slingshot," Harry thought.


    The British postal system was notoriously unreliable, so Harry didn¡¯t expect a response for at least three to five days.


    However, it seemed the wizarding world''s postal service was far superior to that of Muggles.


    That evening, after dinner, Harry lay in bed reading a comic book when he once again heard the familiar sound of tapping at his window.


    When he looked up, he nearly jumped.


    The outside was completely dark, and with only his small bedside lamp illuminating the room, everything around him was shrouded in shadows. Outside the window, he saw nothing but a black silhouette staring at him with a pair of glowing green eyes, like tiny lanterns.


    For a split second, Harry almost screamed, until he realized it was just the owl.


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    "A response this soon?" he muttered in surprise.


    Switching on the main light, he hurried to the window and opened it. Sure enough, the large owl was there again, holding another parchment envelope in its beak, identical to the first.


    Harry took the letter, and without hesitation, the owl took off once more, disappearing silently into the night.


    "Kind of cute, actually," he thought.


    He unfolded the letter and saw the now-familiar handwriting:


    Dear Mr. Potter,


    I am pleased to hear from you. We are aware of the difficulties you are facing.


    Do not worry; we will send the school''s Keeper of Keys and Grounds to your home to assist with your preparations before the start of term. Any financial concerns will also be addressed at that time.


    Our Keeper will visit you between 11:00 PM and midnight on July 5th.


    Sincerely,


    Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall


    P.S. Our Keeper of Keys is a very large and imposing man. Please do not be alarmed by his appearance, he is a true gentleman.


    "Exceptionally large and imposing?" Harry was intrigued. Could this Keeper of Keys be taller than Dennis Rodman?


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The next morning, Harry mentioned that Hogwarts¡¯ Keeper of Keys would be coming to pick him up the following night.


    Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia seemed calm, it was obvious they had discussed the matter the night before. Only Dudley appeared surprised.


    "Hogwarts? So, you''re telling me the letter you got yesterday wasn¡¯t a joke? That school actually exist?" he asked.


    "So far, it seems like it does," Harry nodded.


    "Then¡­ you¡¯re not going to Smeltings with me?" Dudley asked, looking genuinely startled. A flicker of panic flashed in his eyes, the kind of panic he felt when he imagined how terrible his test scores would be without Harry¡¯s help.


    The fact that his cousin was going to another school didn¡¯t really bother Dudley. In truth, even though they had attended the same primary school, they were never in the same class and rarely played together.


    Harry gave him a knowing look and said, "Yeah, don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve thought about it.¡±


    Dudley and Harry had a sort of unspoken understanding. With just a glance, Dudley knew that Harry had figured out his concern and had a solution in mind, so he dropped the subject. Instead, he shoveled food into his mouth and, with a touch of amusement, asked,


    "What kind of school is it, anyway? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard of it before. Do they teach magic tricks and juggling? That would suit you, Harry."


    Harry¡¯s fingers were incredibly nimble, even without real magic, he was skilled at sleight of hand, particularly card tricks, which had fooled Dudley more than once. Unfortunately for Dudley, who excelled in sports, mastering those tricks was beyond him.


    It seemed that Dudley had misunderstood Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as some kind of circus training academy. Of course, the word wizardry should have clued him in, but with Uncle Vernon as his role model, Dudley wasn¡¯t exactly sharp when it came to nuance. For the longest time, he had even thought Harry¡¯s little tricks were real magic.


    "Well, I imagine there are a few differences," Harry said with a grin, choosing not to explain further.


    As Harry had predicted, Dudley didn¡¯t seem to care much. After breakfast, he asked Harry if he wanted to go out and play. When Harry declined, Dudley left to hang out with his friends.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    On a summer day in July, in the UK, only children would willingly run around outdoors.


    Time always moves slowly when you''re waiting, and for Harry, that day felt like an entire year. He couldn¡¯t stop glancing at the clock, willing the sun to set, willing nightfall to come.


    Aunt Petunia spent the entire day in a daze. That evening, while washing dishes, she was so distracted that she accidentally broke a plate. Uncle Vernon was unusually gentle as he comforted her, as if he understood how complicated her emotions must have been about what was about to happen.


    The only person in the family who remained unchanged was Dudley. He was as oblivious as ever, he went out to play after dinner, came back, ate again, then dragged a distracted Harry into a video game match. Harry easily defeated him, prompting Dudley to swear revenge next time before stomping off to bed.


    For an eleven-year-old, ten o¡¯clock was already considered late.


    Harry, however, felt wide awake. And apparently, so did Aunt Petunia.


    Although Uncle Vernon seemed a bit irritated, he still chose to stay in the living room, sitting beside Aunt Petunia, waiting with her.


    With no one watching TV, the room was uncomfortably silent. The tension in the air was thick and strange.


    Harry decided to break the silence.


    "So¡­ my mum was a witch?"


    But the moment the words left his mouth, he realized it was the wrong thing to say.


    "Yes! A witch! Ha ha! A witch! Just like you!"


    Aunt Petunia had been suppressing her emotions all day, but now, Harry¡¯s words seemed to snap something inside her. Her green eyes locked onto him, and she spoke through clenched teeth.


    "Just like you, she got a letter and then went off to Hogwarts. Oh, how wonderful! Witches can turn teacups into rats and dung into turtles! My parents were so thrilled! Hah! Imagine how delighted they were to have a witch in the family!"


    It was as if she had finally found an outlet for years of pent-up resentment.


    "Then she met that Potter¡­ then she married him¡­ and then she had you. But I suppose wizards aren¡¯t as great as they think they are, are they? Because suddenly, they were dead! Both of them!"


    A single tear slipped from Aunt Petunia¡¯s eye, but she wiped it away so quickly that Harry almost missed it.


    "So we had no choice but to take you in. Harry, we¡¯ve been good to you all these years, haven¡¯t we?"


    The sudden question caught Harry off guard. He hesitated, then nodded.


    "Hah! Well, the truth is, I never liked you!" Aunt Petunia stared at him intensely. "Just like I never liked your mother! Because you¡¯re both¡­ monsters!"


    The moment she spat out that last word, it was as if all the energy drained from her body. She slumped into Uncle Vernon¡¯s arms, looking utterly spent, like a balloon that had just deflated.


    Harry was speechless.


    He had just learned something new, his parents hadn¡¯t died in a car accident, as he had always been told. But now clearly wasn¡¯t the time to press the issue.


    "I¡¯m sorry, Harry¡­" Aunt Petunia murmured suddenly. But with her face buried in Uncle Vernon¡¯s chest, her voice was muffled and barely audible.


    "It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s fine. It¡¯s fine," Harry mumbled, waving his hands awkwardly, then realizing she couldn¡¯t even see him.


    The room fell into an awkward silence once more.


    Time dragged painfully on.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the clock struck eleven.


    Just as Harry started to wonder whether this Keeper of Keys would show up at the very last minute, at precisely 11:30 PM, there was a knock at the door.


    ----


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 Chapter 6

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    A knock on the door wasn''t loud, but the sound was muffled, as if something massive had struck it.


    Harry quickly jumped off the couch. The strange and oppressive atmosphere in the room was becoming too much for him.


    As he rushed to the door, the knock came again. Harry opened it, and was stunned.


    Was that a person standing in the doorway?


    Before him stood a figure so enormous that, for a moment, Harry couldn''t find the words to describe him. The usual image of a tall, burly man seemed insignificant compared to the giant in front of him.


    The light from the entryway was completely blocked by his massive frame, making it hard for Harry to see his face clearly. Not that it would have made much difference, his entire face was concealed by thick, wild hair and a dense beard.


    The only features visible were a pair of eyes, gleaming like dark gemstones.


    "Sorry¡­ sorry," the towering man said. His voice, though deep, was unexpectedly normal, laced with hesitation and a hint of embarrassment. "I wanted to come earlier, but I ran into some trouble on the way. The muggle streets are a bit confusing for me."


    "Muggle?" Harry was momentarily puzzled by the word, though now didn¡¯t seem like the right time to dwell on it.


    "Oh, right. That is, people who can¡¯t do magic." the giant explained. Then, somewhat sheepishly, he asked, "Would you mind stepping aside? As you can see, I''m a bit large, and it¡¯s not easy for me to squeeze through if you stand in the doorway like that."


    "Oh! Yes, of course, please, come in!" Harry quickly moved aside and glanced back at his aunt and uncle. They had risen from their seats but made no move toward the door.


    The enormous man stepped inside with great care, ducking low to fit through the doorway, which, despite being larger than average, was barely sufficient. When he finally straightened up, Harry could fully grasp just how tall he was.


    In fact, "tall" was a woefully inadequate description.


    The Dursleys'' house had nearly four-meter-high ceilings, yet even that was just enough for the man,no, the giant, to stand upright. He was at least twice the height of an average adult and three times as wide. He wore a massive dark coat and a pair of boots so large they could probably serve as boats for a child. The floor creaked ominously beneath his weight.


    "Oh! Hello!" The giant clasped his hands together, looking slightly awkward.


    "My name is Rubeus Hagrid. I''m the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts! I''ve come to fetch Harry Potter for his school preparations, at the request of Headmaster Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall!"


    As he spoke, he glanced around the room, hesitating before cautiously asking, "Uh¡­ pardon me, but where¡¯s Harry?"


    "Er¡­ that would be me," Harry said hesitantly. For some reason, he got the feeling that the man in front of him wasn¡¯t particularly bright.


    "Ah?" Hagrid exclaimed, his voice much louder this time. It was clear that he had been deliberately speaking softly before. Realizing he had raised his voice too much, he quickly offered an apologetic grin.


    "Sorry, sorry, I''m big, so my voice is loud too..."


    Then, he eyed Harry with suspicion. "But¡­ I remember Harry being a boy¡­¡±


    "Well¡­ I am a boy," Harry replied, feeling slightly embarrassed. He was used to being mistaken for a girl at school, but in this situation, it was a little mortifying.


    "Oh¡­ right," Hagrid said, scrutinizing him more closely. Slowly, his dark eyes gleamed with recognition. "Yes! Of course! They say boys take after their mothers, and it''s true! Harry, you look so much like your mum when she was young!"


    Hagrid¡¯s shaggy face broke into a wide, rather ungainly smile, yet it radiated warmth. "But your eyes! Just like your dad¡¯s. And that hair of yours, same as his!"


    "You knew my parents?" Harry''s eyes lit up with sudden excitement.


    From childhood until now, he had never seen a single photograph of his parents. He knew almost nothing about them, aside from Aunt Petunia¡¯s occasional, grudging remark that he bore some resemblance to his mother.


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    "Know them? ¡®Course I did! We were friends!" Hagrid beamed again, his smile rough but kind.


    "Hmph!" Aunt Petunia, who had been silent until now, let out a sharp sniff. Her expression darkened, as though Hagrid¡¯s words had dredged up unpleasant memories.


    Hagrid noticed the shift in mood and quickly cleared his throat. "Well then! Good morning, er, I mean, good evening, ladies and gentlemen! I''m sure you know why I¡¯m here. If you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d like to take Harry with me now. I¡¯ll bring him back tomorrow or the day after at the latest."


    "You should at least prove you''re really from that¡­ Hogwarts place!" Aunt Petunia said coldly. Her tone made it obvious that she held no fondness for the massive man standing in their home.


    Uncle Vernon, on the other hand, didn¡¯t display the same hostility. Of course, judging by his trembling frame, it was more likely that he was simply too terrified of Hagrid¡¯s size to react at all.


    Harry suspected that the only reason Uncle Vernon hadn¡¯t reached for the shotgun mounted on the wall was sheer restraint.


    "Oh, right! Professor McGonagall mentioned that to me, but I forgot!" Hagrid quickly reached into his coat, patting his arms as he searched.


    Nights in Britain weren¡¯t as warm as the days, but the temperature was far from cold. Thankfully, he had a coat large enough to keep him comfortable.


    After fumbling around for a moment, Hagrid pulled out a letter and handed it to Petunia. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he withdrew his hand and offered it again, this time with both hands.


    Aunt Petunia hesitated briefly but took the letter anyway.


    It was still the same kind of parchment letter. Harry had no idea what was written on it, but it couldn¡¯t have been much, as Aunt Petunia only glanced at it before nodding. She looked at Harry and, in a harsh voice, said, "Harry, you can go with him if you want."


    The giant Hagrid immediately broke into a warm smile before turning back to Harry.


    Harry raised his eyebrows and, without hesitation, nodded firmly. "Alright, Mr. Hagrid! Let¡¯s go now!"


    Hagrid pursed his lips and muttered something under his breath. Still, he gave a slight bow to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon before squeezing his way back through the too-narrow doorway.


    Harry followed closely behind. Before stepping out, he turned and saw Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon watching him. Smiling, he said, "Good night, Aunt, Uncle. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow, or maybe the day after!"


    Aunt Petunia remained stiff and silent, while Uncle Vernon, who seemed to have just recovered from his shock, gave only a small nod.


    Harry didn¡¯t dwell on it and shut the door behind him. Outside, Hagrid was already standing in the street, waiting.


    Glancing up, Harry looked toward Dudley¡¯s bedroom. The lights were off, it was clear that Dudley had been asleep for some time.


    A strange emotion stirred in Harry¡¯s chest for a brief moment, but he quickly pushed it aside and walked over to Hagrid.


    Looking around, he saw no signs of transportation. Curious, he wondered how Hagrid had arrived and, more importantly, how they were going to leave. But as he reached Hagrid¡¯s side, he heard the giant muttering, "Thought maybe they¡¯d let me stay the night..."


    Harry couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. The massive man in front of him was certainly amusing.


    As Harry stood lost in thought, he saw Hagrid pull a small red umbrella from inside his coat. But "small" was only relative, if it belonged to a normal person, it would barely be enough for two people to share.


    Hagrid held the little red umbrella upright and gave it a shake.


    Harry felt a flicker of excitement, only for nothing to happen.


    "Uh¡­ Mr. Hagrid, what are you doing?" Harry asked, confused.


    "Just Hagrid will do! Being called ¡®Mister¡¯ makes me feel like one of those old Academy professors," Hagrid said with a friendly grin. "I¡¯m summoning transportation! We¡¯ve got to get to London, and we can¡¯t exactly walk there, can we?"


    "Transportation?" Harry echoed, startled. He was about to ask something else when a sharp whistle pierced the night.


    At the same time, a bright light swept over them. Instinctively, Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes from the glare. Then, came a loud screech of brakes, the stench of burning rubber, and the unmistakable sound of something massive grinding to a halt.


    When Harry lowered his hands, he found himself staring at an enormous vehicle parked at the side of the road.


    It was a triple-decker bus, its huge wheels gleaming under the streetlights. Just moments ago, one second, maybe two, there hadn¡¯t been a single car on the street. Now, in the blink of an eye, a gigantic bus had materialized right in front of them.


    Harry¡¯s eyes widened as he took in the bizarre purple bus, covered in strange graffiti. Finally, his gaze settled on the windshield, where golden letters spelled out:


    "The Knight Bus."


    "This is¡­" Harry felt his tongue go dry.


    "The Knight Bus!" Hagrid beamed. "A mighty convenient way for stranded witches and wizards to travel. Just stick out your wand, and they''ll appear almost instantly! ''Course, you don¡¯t have a wand yet, but you will soon enough!"


    At that moment, a young man in a purple uniform hopped off the bus.


    "Welcome to the Knight Bus! The emergency transport for stranded witches and wizards! Just stick out your wand hand and hop aboard, we can take you anywhere you want to go! My name is Anduran Cherbis, and I¡¯ll be your conductor tonight."


    "Oi, Anduran! Night shift today, eh?" Hagrid greeted him with a grin. "Thought I¡¯d be seeing Stan!"


    "Ah, it¡¯s Hagrid!" Anduran Cherbis clearly recognized him and replied with a friendly smile. "Stan switched to the day shift, just got himself a girlfriend, you see. And, well, you know how it is, when you first start dating, your nights are¡­ a bit busier."


    "Oi! Mind your tongue, there¡¯s a kid here!" Hagrid scowled before turning to Harry. "Come on, Harry, let''s get on."


    Harry nodded and was about to step onto the bus when Anduran suddenly exclaimed, "Harry? Wait a second, Hagrid, is this¡­ Harry?"


    As he spoke, his gaze locked onto Harry¡¯s forehead. Unfortunately, thick bangs covered the area.


    Harry had always disliked the way people stared at his scar. In primary school, it had happened nearly every day, making him uncomfortable.


    Maybe that was part of the reason he kept his hair long.


    ----


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 Chapter 7

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    Anduran Cherbis'' eyes fell on Harry''s forehead, where his thick fringe covered the skin, revealing nothing. Then his gaze moved to Harry¡¯s face, and suddenly, he hesitated.


    However, Hagrid wore a smug expression and said in an elated tone, "I was entrusted by Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall to take young Harry to get ready for school."


    "Is it true?!" Anduran exclaimed, grabbing Harry''s hand in an enthusiastic shake, almost yanking him forward.


    "What an honor! What an honor to meet you, Harry, ah, I mean, Mr. Potter! What an absolute honor!"


    His voice was so loud that it drew the attention of the other passengers in the vehicle.


    "Potter? Which Potter? Harry Potter?" some of the passengers shouted, while others even leaned halfway out of the bus windows. Most of the people on the bus were dressed rather strangely, but considering they were likely wizards, Harry figured it might just be a wizarding fashion trend.


    "Of course! Who else would it be? Mr. Potter himself! Damn it, you lot are incredibly lucky to see Mr. Potter in person, just like me!" Anduran bellowed.


    Then something happened that Harry couldn''t quite comprehend. The few passengers and even the bus driver all stepped off. Though they had looked somewhat skeptical when they first saw him, after Hagrid confirmed his identity, their expressions shifted to surprise.


    Then, something even more unexpected occurred. These peculiar individuals actually formed a line, each one eagerly waiting to shake his hand, their faces alight with joy and excitement. One person even tried to shake Harry¡¯s hand twice by sneaking back to the end of the line, but Hagrid caught him.


    "Alright, alright! Our Harry needs to get to the Leaky Cauldron. It¡¯s getting late, and he needs a good night''s rest!" Hagrid announced.


    "Of course, of course!" the passengers agreed, nodding repeatedly.


    "Please, step onto the bus. We have both seats and beds! Feel free to sit anywhere you like, Mr. Potter!" Anduran said excitedly, pulling Harry onto the bus and guiding him to a seat. He beamed. "I''ll cover your fare. Please don¡¯t worry about it, it¡¯s an honor!"


    "And what about me, Anduran?" Hagrid asked with a grin.


    "Eleven Sickles!" Anduran replied, turning his head with a serious expression, shifting from generosity to sternness faster than flipping the pages of a book.


    "We''ve known each other for nearly ten years!" Hagrid protested.


    "Yes, exactly! So, eleven Sickles. But I¡¯ll give you a cup of hot tea for free!" Then, he turned back to Harry with a flattering smile. "Mr. Potter, what would you like to drink? Milk? Hot chocolate? We also have regular chocolate, of course. Everything is free for you!¡±


    Hagrid grumbled but still dug into his pocket, pulling out a handful of silver coins and dropping them into Anduran¡¯s hands. He then sat beside Harry, muttering something that sounded a lot like "stingy git."


    Harry was still dazed. The last four or five minutes, from the moment Anduran had shaken his hand up until now, were completely bewildering. Why do all these strange people seem to know who he was?


    But before Harry could ask Hagrid for an explanation, the bus suddenly lurched forward.


    "Bloody hell!" Harry cursed involuntarily.


    With a sharp whistle, he was thrown back against his seat.


    The Knight Bus was unbelievably fast! The overwhelming force pinned him to the seat, and the scenery outside the window blurred into streaks of light and shadow. Even when he''d ridden in his classmate''s dad''s sports car, he''d never felt anything like this.


    "Oh, Harry, I¡¯m sorry! I forgot to warn you, it¡¯s your first time, after all," Hagrid said apologetically. "When the bus is in motion, you need to press your back against the seat and hold onto the armrests. But don¡¯t worry, it won¡¯t matter after a while."


    Hearing this, Harry quickly grabbed the horizontal handrail in front of him. Instantly, the overwhelming pressure on his back disappeared.


    "Magic!" he gasped in amazement.


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    Although he was already familiar with a few minor spells, mostly mental enhancements like sensing emotions, improving memory, or inducing excitement or trance, this was something entirely different.


    Still, meditation had made Harry feel healthier, and his memory and reflexes had improved significantly.


    As for more advanced magic, the elemental spells in his mind had been largely ineffective due to his limited magical power and the scarcity of magical elements. For example, the Fire Dragon Technique was supposed to summon a massive flaming dragon, but in reality, it could barely light a cigarette.


    That¡¯s why, in Harry¡¯s opinion, this enormous, high-speed bus was far more magical.


    "Uh¡­ yeah," Hagrid chuckled. "Just a little bit of magic!¡±


    "A little bit?" Harry smacked his lips, growing even more intrigued by the magical world unfolding before him.


    In Britain, wizarding culture was well-known to the general public. After all, Merlin, the legendary figure said to have aided King Arthur, was a wizard. But who had ever actually witnessed real magic?


    Harry felt incredibly lucky. Although he had some magical knowledge, it was disorganized and lacked structure¡ªnothing more than a collection of minor tricks. But now, he was about to become a real wizard.


    "Will I finally be able to use my magic properly once I learn wizardry the right way?" thought Harry.


    Inside the bus, nearly everyone was either openly or covertly staring at Harry, as if they''d suffer some great misfortune if they didn¡¯t take one last look at him.


    At first, he didn¡¯t notice, but since the scenery outside was a blur and he had no choice but to look around the bus, he soon became aware of the stares. The realization made him uncomfortable.


    Sure, he had been stared at by girls in school before, and when he was younger, boys had also been curious about him. But now? Now, it was all old men.


    Luckily, the ride didn¡¯t last long.


    "Leaky Cauldron, London!" Anduran called out. This was Harry¡¯s destination.


    Harry and Hagrid were the first to step off the bus.


    Many of the bus passengers were actually supposed to reach their destinations earlier. However, nearly all of them were willing to pay extra just to ensure that Harry was dropped off first, allowing them to spend a little more time in his presence, even if they never exchanged a single word with him.


    With so many eyes on him, Harry didn¡¯t say much, though he had plenty of questions he wanted to ask Hagrid.


    When he finally stepped off the bus, he had to go through another round of handshakes and goodbyes with the passengers. He was fairly certain he had never shaken this many hands in his entire life as he had in just one night.


    "Why are they like this? I mean, why do they all seem so..." Harry trailed off, struggling to find the right words to describe the odd behavior of the wizards.


    "Overly enthusiastic?" Hagrid seemed to understand what Harry was getting at and chuckled. "Harry, you don¡¯t realize it, but in the wizarding world, you¡¯re incredibly famous, a proper celebrity!"


    "Me? A celebrity? Why?" Harry asked, completely baffled.


    Sure, back at school, he had been somewhat well-known at first because of the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Later, his good looks had made him popular among both girls and, occasionally, boys. But that was a far cry from actual celebrity status.


    Of course, Harry was still well-known at school, mostly because his appearance had fooled plenty of people. However, compared to real celebrities, like famous athletes or top students, there was still a huge gap.


    "It¡¯s a bit complicated," Hagrid admitted, rubbing his chin. He seemed to realize that it wasn¡¯t easy to explain, so he shook his head.


    "Let¡¯s not worry about that now. We¡¯ve got plenty of time tomorrow. I¡¯ll think carefully about how to explain it to you then." He then gestured to a nearby building. "For now, this is the Leaky Cauldron, one of the most well-known places in the wizarding world. It¡¯s the oldest pub in the British magical community."


    It was only then that Harry took a proper look at where they had arrived.


    Had no one told him otherwise, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to guess that this was actually London.


    The narrow alley was lined with small shops on both sides, a stark contrast to the towering skyscrapers of the global financial hub he had always imagined London to be.


    And according to Hagrid, the Leaky Cauldron, the most ancient and prestigious inn in the wizarding world, was barely noticeable, even in this humble alley!


    It was wedged between a massive bookstore and a record shop, with nothing more than a small, battered wooden door marking its presence. Harry had no doubt that even in broad daylight, if a hundred people walked past, not a single one would give it a second glance.


    Before he could comment, however, he was pushed inside by Hagrid. The half-giant hadn¡¯t used much force, but his sheer size gave him an overwhelming strength, and Harry had no choice but to stumble forward.


    If it weren¡¯t for how absurdly magical the bus ride had been, Harry might have seriously started suspecting that Hagrid was some sort of human trafficker, judging by the way he handled things.


    Of course, Hagrid wasn¡¯t a trafficker, but the Leaky Cauldron¡¯s interior was far from the grand, famous establishment Harry had expected.


    It was dimly lit, dusty, and rundown. The tables, chairs, and benches looked ancient, as if they had been in use for centuries. Despite the late hour, a few oddly dressed individuals sat at the bar, drinking and chatting.


    Well, calling someone "oddly dressed" was relative. To an ordinary person, these people would seem bizarre. But if they were all wizards, then long cloaks and pointed hats made complete sense!


    With a single loud statement, Hagrid once again revealed Harry¡¯s identity, and immediately, another round of handshakes began, just like on the Knight Bus. Neither he nor Harry were allowed to rest until Hagrid finally declared that Harry had important things to do in the morning.


    "You need to tell me what¡¯s happening tomorrow!" Harry insisted as Hagrid bid him goodnight at the door to his room.


    "Of course!" Hagrid agreed easily.


    Still buzzing with excitement, Harry tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling asleep.


    Yet, despite going to bed late, he woke up early the next morning.


    His first instinct was to knock on Hagrid¡¯s door next door, but just as he raised his fist, there was a loud BANG beside him.


    A short figure had suddenly appeared right next to him.


    ----


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 Chapter 8

    [Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    The sudden appearance of the figure startled Harry so much that he stumbled back two steps and nearly fell.


    ¡°Oh! I¡¯m sorry, sorry, Mr. Potter! I truly am! Did I frighten you with my sudden arrival? Oh, blast it, Cavill!¡± The tiny creature that had appeared out of nowhere apologized in an apologetic voice, then proceeded to smack its own head forcefully.


    The little creature had large, bat-like ears and a pair of bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. It was incredibly thin, which made its already large head appear even bigger. It wasn¡¯t wearing traditional clothing but was draped in a makeshift tunic, possibly made of linen or some other fabric. Though the cloth looked worn, it was still clean.


    ¡°What?¡± Harry, now recovered from his initial shock, looked at the small creature in front of him with confusion. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ wait, hey, stop hitting yourself! I¡¯m not that easily frightened.¡±


    ¡°Oh, great Mr. Potter! You truly are as kind and brave as the rumors say!¡± The little creature immediately stopped punishing itself and addressed Harry in a tone filled with humility and reverence.


    ¡°I am a house-elf named Cavill. I work at the Leaky Cauldron.¡±


    By now, Harry had grown somewhat accustomed to the strange fact that everyone in the wizarding world seemed to know who he was. And now, an actual house-elf had been added to the list. He didn¡¯t even bother to react, simply nodding in acknowledgment.


    If Harry had ever harbored doubts about the existence of magic, they were completely erased the moment he saw this little creature. No special effects artist in the Muggle world could have created something like this.


    ¡°Alright, Cavill,¡± Harry tried to continue the conversation.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for Hagrid, the one who lives here¡­¡± He gestured above his head with his hand. ¡°The really tall gentleman.¡±


    ¡°Yes, great Mr. Potter,¡± Cavill replied, his tone filled with increasing respect as he gave a small bow. ¡°Mr. Hagrid asked me to wait for you here. He said that if you woke up, I should bring you to him. Are you ready to go? Mr. Hagrid is having breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Breakfast¡­¡± Harry realized he was actually quite hungry. He nodded. ¡°Alright, take me to him.¡±


    Cavill led Harry down a set of stairs, bringing him back to the Leaky Cauldron, the same place they had been the day before.


    Hagrid was indeed there, sitting at a small table, enjoying his meal. Beside him sat an elderly man, the innkeeper. Harry vaguely remembered that he had introduced himself the day before as Tom.


    This name reminded Harry of a certain cartoon featuring two animals.


    ¡°It is a great honor to see you again, dear Mr. Potter.¡± The old man, Tom, greeted him with a broad, beaming smile. His already small eyes narrowed so much that they nearly disappeared.


    Fortunately, it was still early morning, and there weren¡¯t many people in the pub. Otherwise, Harry suspected that Tom¡¯s words might have sparked another round of handshakes from enthusiastic witches and wizards. Not that he minded shaking hands, but he wasn¡¯t particularly eager to do so with a group of old wizards in oddly colored robes, some of whom carried strange, unfamiliar scents.


    ¡°Harry! You¡¯re up.¡± Hagrid grinned widely at him, his thick beard unable to hide the smile stretching across his face.


    ¡°Come, have some breakfast. I ordered a portion for you.¡±


    Harry had a normal appetite, but he was genuinely hungry. He sat down and started eating.


    He had to admit, though the Leaky Cauldron¡¯s interior felt a little rundown, the breakfast was surprisingly delicious. At the very least, it was far better than Aunt Petunia¡¯s cooking, despite her constant claims of being an excellent cook.


    Of course, given that magic was likely involved in preparing the meal, Harry figured the quality should be expected.


    He ate quickly, finishing his breakfast before Hagrid, though that wasn¡¯t exactly a difficult feat, considering the sheer amount of food Hagrid consumed. Harry estimated that Hagrid had eaten enough to feed at least twenty people, which, given his size, wasn¡¯t all that surprising.


    Once they had finished, Hagrid led Harry through the pub toward a small doorway to the side. It opened into a tiny courtyard, enclosed by brick walls on all sides.


    The space triggered a particular memory for Harry. At school, bullies tended to corner their victims in secluded places like this. Well, though Harry never directly participated in bullying, Dudley certainly did.


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    Harry occasionally observed and even offered advice, like suggesting they avoid hitting someone¡¯s face, otherwise, the teachers would call their parents.


    Snapping out of his thoughts, Harry looked around, confused. The courtyard was nearly empty, aside from a trash can and a few scattered items.


    Just as he was about to ask why they were there, Hagrid pulled out his pink umbrella, the same one he had used to summon the Knight Bus. He turned to Harry with a serious expression.


    ¡°Harry, pay close attention to what I¡¯m about to do.¡±


    Harry: ¡°???¡±


    Before he could ask what was happening, Hagrid raised the umbrella and pointed it at the brick wall behind the trash can. Murmuring to himself, he carefully tapped specific bricks with the tip of the umbrella.


    ¡°First, find the one that¡¯s a different color,¡± he muttered. ¡°Then three up, two across, there! Tap it three times with your wand!¡±


    As he tapped the brick, it began to tremble and shift. A small hole appeared in the center, growing larger and larger until, before their eyes, a wide archway was revealed, large enough for even Hagrid to pass through.


    Beyond it lay a winding, cobblestone street that seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance.


    ¡°Welcome,¡± Hagrid said with a grin. ¡°Welcome to Diagon Alley.¡±


    Harry stood frozen, staring in astonishment as Hagrid strode forward. He quickly rushed after him but couldn¡¯t help glancing over his shoulder.


    Behind them, the archway began to shrink, its edges drawing together until, in mere seconds, it had completely sealed itself, once again becoming a solid brick wall.


    ¡°That¡¯s amazing!¡± Harry exclaimed before turning back toward the street.


    Lining both sides of the alley were shops of every shape and size. Most had wooden facades, some featuring large display windows, while others had mysterious, unmarked entrances.


    The closest shop had a stack of cauldrons piled by the door.


    ¡°I think¡­ I need to buy a cauldron,¡± Harry murmured to himself, pulling out his Hogwarts letter from his pocket and giving it another look.


    ¡°Oh, yes! Potions is a required course, and a cauldron is necessary. But first, we need to get the money!¡± Hagrid said somewhat awkwardly.


    ¡°I should¡¯ve bought it for yeh, but, well, y¡¯know¡­ my salary ain¡¯t that high, and my expenses ain¡¯t small either!¡±


    ¡°S-So¡­ withdraw money? From where?¡± asked Harry.


    Walking with Hagrid was no easy task. His long strides covered a great distance with each step, while Harry, on the other hand, was constantly distracted by the sights around him.


    There were pet shops and owl emporiums. Harry also spotted a store where several boys were crowding around the window, their eyes locked onto a magnificent broomstick on display. Harry had no doubt that witches and wizards could really fly on those.


    There were also clothing stores, bookshops, and various shops selling all kinds of strange and wonderful items.


    ¡°Gotta go to Gringotts! It¡¯s the wizard bank. All your money¡¯s there!¡± Hagrid explained casually.


    ¡°My money? Mine?¡± Harry was once again stunned. ¡°Wait, are you saying I have money in that¡­ Gringotts?¡±


    ¡°¡®Course!¡± Hagrid looked at him in surprise.


    ¡°James, yer dad, left it all for yeh. And Lily too, though compared to James, her inheritance was smaller. Haha! The Potters were a wealthy family!¡±


    Seeing Harry¡¯s bewildered expression, Hagrid frowned slightly.


    ¡°Wait, yer aunt and uncle never told yeh about yer parents?¡±


    ¡°No! Never!¡± Harry shook his head.


    ¡°In fact, before I got my Hogwarts letter, Aunt Petunia told me they¡­ died in a car accident.¡±


    Harry had always felt a bit skeptical about that explanation, but a small part of him had believed it.


    After all, if the wizarding world used vehicles like the Knight Bus, dying in a car crash didn¡¯t seem entirely out of the question.


    ¡°A car accident?¡± Hagrid¡¯s voice was filled with shock, his expression a mix of disbelief and outrage.


    ¡°What nonsense! That¡¯s slander! James and Lily, two of the greatest witches and wizards of their generation! How could a mere car accident have harmed them?!¡±


    Harry Shrugged.


    ¡°Well, maybe Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon just don¡¯t want to talk about magic. Aunt Petunia really hates it.¡±


    Then, after a brief pause, he asked, ¡°So¡­ how did my parents really die? And why does everyone seem to know me? Why do they all¡­ want to shake my hand?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Hagrid hesitated, scratching his thick beard.


    ¡°I dunno if it¡¯s my place to tell yeh. I reckon Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall should explain it when school starts. My memory¡¯s a bit foggy, and, well¡­ some things I ain¡¯t sure I should say.¡±


    ¡°If you can remember that much, your brain can¡¯t be that foggy.¡± Harry muttered to himself.


    Diagon Alley had so many winding paths and alleyways that, despite Harry¡¯s best efforts to memorize the route, he found himself hopelessly lost.


    So, he simply stuck close to Hagrid, following his lead.


    After a short walk, they arrived in front of a towering, snow-white building, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, standing tall among the surrounding shops.


    Beside its gleaming bronze doors, a stern-looking figure stood in a uniform of crimson and gold.


    The creature looked somewhat similar to the house-elf Harry had met earlier that morning, but with smaller eyes, sharper ears, and a much fiercer expression.


    It looked exactly like the goblins Harry had read about in fairy tales.


    ¡°Hagrid, is that a¡­?¡±


    Harry whispered as they climbed the white stone steps toward the figure.


    ¡°Uh. Yeah, goblins! Don¡¯t mess with ¡®em! Goblins are clever, but they ain¡¯t exactly friendly,¡± Hagrid muttered back in the same hushed tone.


    Harry, who wasn¡¯t particularly tall for his age, noticed that the goblin in front of him was even shorter, at least a head shorter than Harry himself.


    The goblin had dark skin, a pointed beard, and an expression of sharp intelligence.


    As they stepped inside, the goblins at the entrance gave them a brief, polite bow before stepping aside, revealing a second set of doors, this time made of silver.


    Harry¡¯s eyes widened as he noticed engraved words shimmering on the surface of the doors:


    Enter, stranger, but take heed


    Of what awaits the sin of greed


    For those who take, but do not earn,


    Must pay most dearly in their turn.


    So if you seek beneath our floors


    A treasure that was never yours,


    Thief, you have been warned, beware


    Of finding more than treasure there.


    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about stealing from here.¡± Hagrid murmured. ¡°This is one of the most heavily guarded places in the wizarding world! It¡¯s safer keepin your things here than anywhere else¡­ cept maybe Hogwarts!¡±


    ----


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 Chapter 9

    [Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    Although Harry hadn''t interacted much with Hagrid, he could tell that Hagrid had a deep sense of belonging to the school where he worked, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and that he loved it dearly.


    It must be a great place if the staff are so fond of it. Harry thought to himself. He vividly remembered how Vernon Dursley complained about his presence every single day.


    Beyond the silver door, two goblins greeted them again and led them into a grand hall paved with marble. Around a hundred goblins sat on high stools behind a row of large counters on either side. Some were weighing gold and silver coins on metal scales, while others carefully examined gemstones through magnifying lenses. A few were recording transactions in massive ledgers that seemed disproportionately large compared to their small frames.


    Some goblins were escorting people in and out of those doors, and the place seemed incredibly busy.


    Hagrid led Harry to a counter where a goblin was seated.


    "Good morning!" Hagrid said. "We need to withdraw some money from Harry Potter''s vault!" As he spoke, he nudged Harry forward.


    "Very well, Mr. Potter. Do you have your key with you?" the goblin behind the counter asked, looking Harry up and down.


    His voice was sharp, somewhat like Aunt Petunia¡¯s, only harsher. But Harry found the goblin fascinating. There was no doubt about his gender, given his appearance.


    "Ah, yes! I brought it, I brought it, I brought it!"


    Beside him, Hagrid patted his forehead with his massive hand, then rubbed his arms for a moment.


    He rummaged through his enormous coat, pulling out an assortment of objects. Most of them looked like junk to Harry, but to his astonishment, he spotted a live owl among them!


    Luckily, there were no cockroaches or lizards, otherwise, Harry might have been too wary to let this giant man touch him in the future. Not that he was particularly afraid of insects.


    Just as Harry started worrying that kind hearted but slightly scatterbrained Hagrid might have forgotten to bring his key, Hagrid finally fished out a small golden key.


    However, instead of handing it to the goblin, he gave it to Harry. "Harry, this is the key to your vault! You must keep it safe! Of course, you''ll be getting a wand soon. Once you''ve registered it, you¡¯ll be able to use it to prove your identity."


    Harry smacked his lips. By now, Hagrid had mentioned the wand quite a few times. Yet, he hadn¡¯t seen one. Hagrid himself wasn¡¯t carrying a wand.


    Harry¡¯s eyes shifted to the small red umbrella clutched in Hagrid¡¯s arms.


    Nodding to himself, Harry took the key and examined it. The weight of it made him wonder if it was actually made of gold. Then, he handed it over to the goblin.


    The goblin inspected it carefully and nodded approvingly. "Looks good.¡±


    "Oh, right!" Hagrid suddenly seemed to remember something and pulled a letter from another pocket. "I also have a letter from Professor Dumbledore. About the object, in the safe you know which one!" As he spoke, he handed the letter over.


    The goblin took it, read it carefully, and hesitated before saying, "So soon? I thought it would be later."


    "Well, yes, that¡¯s what Dumbledore arranged." Hagrid looked slightly embarrassed but still tried to appear composed.


    The goblin said nothing but gave a nod and called out, "Griphook! Take them.¡±


    A goblin named Griphook led Harry and Hagrid through a door behind the counter. Harry glanced around curiously, only to find that behind the door was a narrow stone passage with a steep descent, a rather dull sight.


    Finding it uninteresting, Harry, recalling what Hagrid had just said, whispered, "Hagrid, what''s inside the Vault?"


    "Ah, well, that¡¯s... I can''t tell you!" Hagrid shook his head. "It''s a Hogwarts secret. Dumbledore entrusted me with it because he trusts me! This is a highly confidential task, and it¡¯s really not something I can share with you!"


    Harry shrugged and didn¡¯t press further.


    Ahead of them, Griphook led the way down the passage. Below them, a set of tracks extended into unknown depths underground.


    What followed was the most thrilling roller coaster ride of Harry¡¯s life! He silently swore to himself that he would never take that ride again unless absolutely necessary.


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    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    As Harry stepped out of Gringotts, his mouth stretched into a wide grin.


    There was no way to hide his smile!


    Although Hagrid had told him that his late father had left him a considerable fortune, actually seeing hundreds of thousands of gold Galleons piled before him had made Harry¡¯s heart race with shock.


    The Dursleys had never been particularly generous with him, and he had rarely had money of his own to spend.


    Of course, Dudley hadn¡¯t exactly been showered with cash either, so Harry had never felt particularly resentful about it.


    Even so, when he stuffed over a hundred gold coins into his pocket, an unfamiliar yet exhilarating joy surged through him.


    The only downside was that, despite being only slightly larger than buttons, the sheer number of gold coins made them surprisingly heavy! His trousers kept slipping down, forcing him to tug them up repeatedly, until Hagrid noticed and handed him a small pouch made of some unknown leather.


    Harry found the little bag fascinating!


    Although it didn¡¯t seem very large, it held far more than it appeared to from the outside. More importantly, even after stuffing in hundreds of coins, it didn¡¯t gain any weight at all!


    "That was made by two funny little blokes from the academy. Well, you¡¯ll meet them when you get to Hogwarts. They¡¯re troublemakers, but very talented!" Hagrid said with a grin when he noticed how interested Harry was in the pouch.


    Harry nodded eagerly, his excitement about studying magic at Hogwarts growing even stronger. He was also curious about something else, his gaze drifted to Hagrid¡¯s thick coat, where, in an inner pocket, the half-giant had tucked away a small bag retrieved from Vault. Harry couldn¡¯t help but wonder what was inside.


    After that, Hagrid took Harry to buy his school supplies. Harry had asked Hagrid in advance not to mention his name, so this time there were no awkward handshaking incidents.


    First, they bought books, followed by cauldrons, glass phials, telescopes, and scales.


    The eight books were all thick and heavy, but Hagrid casually tied them together with a rope and carried them with ease, as if they weighed no more than a bottle of water.


    "Now, let¡¯s get your robes." Hagrid didn¡¯t remember the entire shopping list, but Harry had memorized it and was able to remind him. He pointed to Madam Malkin¡¯s Robes for All Occasions just a short distance away, hesitated for a moment, and said:


    "Harry, would you mind going in on your own? I want to stop by the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. That cart ride made me feel awful."


    Hagrid had already shown his discomfort with roller coasters back in Gringotts. Harry had felt queasy as well, though not as obviously as Hagrid. After all, he and Dudley had gone to amusement parks a few times a year, and roller coasters had always been a must, though this one had been at least a hundred times more intense.


    Hearing Hagrid¡¯s request, Harry immediately nodded and flashed a big smile. "No problem, I can handle it."


    "Alright, I¡¯ll drop this off in your room first." Hagrid beamed.


    Even though he had said he was fine, Harry still felt a little nervous as he stepped into the shop alone.


    Fortunately, Madam Malkin was very friendly, and she mistook Harry for a girl.


    Although he had played along with this mix-up countless times before, it still amused him, and he found himself relaxing quite a bit.


    What relieved Harry even more was that the woman didn¡¯t recognize him. He decided not to reveal his identity until it was absolutely necessary.


    Of course, in the end, he would have to put his name on the robe¡¯s label anyway.


    Madam Malkin called over a young witch to take Harry¡¯s measurements. A moment later, another girl entered the shop.


    She wasn¡¯t very tall, about the same height as Harry, with long, thick brown hair and very fair skin, which made the freckles on her face stand out even more. She had large eyes, a small nose and mouth.


    Madam Malkin went over to greet the newcomer.


    "My dear, are you a first-year student? Do you need a custom-fitted robe?" she asked warmly.


    "Good morning, ma¡¯am," the girl replied with a polite smile. "I¡¯m not entirely sure about the process, but yes, I do need a fitted robe."


    Despite admitting her uncertainty, her tone and posture remained remarkably composed, almost proud, even.


    Madam Malkin¡¯s smile grew even more welcoming. She seated the girl next to Harry and instructed another assistant to take her measurements.


    "Hello? First year?" the girl asked, glancing at Harry.


    "Yes," Harry replied, deliberately lowering his voice. He was curious to see the girl¡¯s reaction when she realized he was actually a boy. Given how confident and slightly arrogant she had seemed when she walked in, her surprise would surely be amusing.


    To his surprise, the girl simply nodded before tilting her head slightly and saying, "You do realize, don¡¯t you? You look quite a bit, well, not just a bit, but a lot, like a girl. Why do you keep your hair long? It¡¯s easy to be mistaken."


    Harry blinked in shock. "Wait¡­ You knew I was a boy from the start?"


    "Of course!" the girl replied as if it were obvious. Then she pointed first at her chest, then at Harry¡¯s Adam¡¯s apple. "It¡¯s not that hard to tell, is it?"


    Harry: ¡°¡­¡±


    This girl had an incredible eye for detail.


    At eleven or twelve, many girls had already started developing, but plenty hadn¡¯t. On the other hand, unless a boy was particularly overweight, his Adam¡¯s apple was usually visible.


    Yet before now, everyone had been fooled by Harry¡¯s face. She was the first person to notice Adam''s apple right away.


    "I¡¯m Granger, Hermione Granger," the girl introduced herself proudly. "You¡¯re a first-year at Hogwarts too, right?"


    "Um, yeah..."


    Harry hesitated. He still wasn¡¯t keen on revealing his name, fearing it would cause unnecessary reactions. But if he refused to introduce himself now, it would seem rude. He had no choice but to say, "I¡¯m Harry. Harry Potter."


    "Nice to meet you," Hermione nodded, then, nothing.


    That surprised Harry again. This girl was very strange.


    However, while Hermione didn¡¯t react, the assistant measuring their robes suddenly froze. Almost at the same moment, several witches in the shop gasped.


    "Harry Potter?" they exclaimed in unison.


    And so, under Hermione¡¯s puzzled gaze, Harry once again found himself shaking hands with every single person in Madam Malkin¡¯s.


    "Are you famous?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly. "Are you, uh, what¡¯s it called? Quidditch, right? The son of a Quidditch star?"


    "I suppose...?" Harry said uncertainty.


    He had no idea what Quidditch was, nor whether he was really the son of a famous wizarding athlete.


    But then again, if a famous person''s son walked down the street in the wizarding world and got mobbed with handshakes, that wouldn¡¯t seem particularly reasonable either.


    At that moment, the assistant finished taking Harry¡¯s measurements, and just in time, Hagrid appeared in the shop doorway, holding two enormous ice cream cones and grinning at Harry.


    "Wow." Hermione¡¯s already large eyes widened even further as she stared up at Hagrid, who was several sizes bigger than a normal person.


    ----


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 Chapter 10

    [Chapter Size: 1700 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    "Hagrid, what is Quidditch?" Harry asked casually while licking his ice cream. That was what the slightly arrogant, bushy-haired girl had just mentioned.


    "Merlin¡¯s beard! Harry, I forgot how little you know!" Hagrid exclaimed, giving his large, shaggy head a pat. "Quidditch is incredibly important! It¡¯s a hugely popular sport. Of course, I mean, in the wizarding world, well, in the entire wizarding world, really."


    Hagrid probably did his best to explain the rules of this game, or sport, in detail, but his ability to express himself was somewhat questionable, and his explanations were vague. More often than not, he emphasized how great his favorite team used to be, though their performance had declined in recent years.


    Fortunately, Harry grasped the concept well enough and managed to get the general idea.


    Smacking his lips, Harry thought about it and realized it sounded like basketball or football, but played on broomsticks!


    "By the way, wouldn¡¯t that thin broom handle get stuck in a rather uncomfortable spot when you rode it?" Harry felt a bit concerned.


    "Hagrid, I want to buy a few more books. Some that introduce me to the wizarding world. I feel like I know far too little about it!" Harry shared the idea that had occurred to him during his brief conversation with the girl earlier.


    "Ah, of course, you can! That was my oversight! I can recommend a few books, like Hogwarts: A History, which is an excellent read!" Hagrid nodded repeatedly. "But before that, we still need to buy the most important thing!"


    Harry raised an eyebrow; he knew exactly what Hagrid was talking about. There was only one item left on the shopping list, and it was the one that intrigued him the most, the wand!


    If there was one thing Harry was most excited to buy, it was undoubtedly his wand.


    Would it be a long staff, like Merlin¡¯s in the comics? Or a spear, like Loki¡¯s? Or maybe.


    Harry glanced at the inner pocket of Hagrid¡¯s coat and barely caught sight of the tip of a small red umbrella. He had seen many types of wands in RPG games, and in Neil¡¯s memory, that one called Aegean World was even more bizarre.


    Now that he was about to have a real magical wand of his own, how could he not be excited?


    Under Hagrid¡¯s guidance, the two arrived at a small, run-down shop, though, to be fair, most shops in Diagon Alley had shabby exteriors, yet their interiors were surprisingly spacious, as if by magic.


    The gold lettering on the sign above the door was faded, clearly having hung there for quite some time. It read:


    Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.


    "382 B.C.?"


    Harry had no idea what historical period that referred to, but one thing was certain, whatever people lived in those times, they had absolutely nothing to do with the modern British Empire.


    Was boasting also common in the wizarding world? Harry thought mischievously.


    Through the window, Harry spotted a pale purple cushion with a piece of wood on top.


    If not for the fact that the proportions seemed off, he might have mistaken it for one of those interesting utensils provided at Chinese restaurants in Chinatown, chopsticks.


    This wand was a bit different from what he had imagined.


    Upon entering the shop, Harry looked around. His first impression was that the place was meticulously organized. The most striking feature was the numerous towering shelves, built specifically for storage, stretching all the way to the ceiling. Thousands of long, narrow boxes were neatly arranged upon them. Judging by their shape, they likely contained wands.


    "Good morning." A gentle voice sounded without warning.


    Both Harry and Hagrid flinched at the sudden sound. A very old-looking man, or wizard, stood before them. He had a pair of light gray eyes, not particularly striking but incredibly sharp, making them seem almost eerie in the dimly lit shop.


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    It reminded Harry of certain nocturnal animals.


    "Good morning, Mr. Ollivander. Could you please make a bit more noise when you walk next time?" Hagrid muttered.


    "Pleasure to see you, Hagrid." Mr. Ollivander ignored Hagrid¡¯s minor complaint and smiled. "Oak, sixteen inches, a bit bendy? You were quite the particular customer back then."


    "Your memory has always been sharp." Hagrid grinned sheepishly.


    "That was a fine wand, but it¡¯s a shame they broke it, isn¡¯t it?" Ollivander said regretfully.


    "Yes... yes..." Hagrid¡¯s eyes turned slightly vacant, and his hand instinctively touched the inside of his coat in an unnatural motion. In that very pocket rested the red umbrella. "But I still have it."


    "It¡¯s good to keep it as a memento, but you can¡¯t use it, can you?" Mr. Ollivander shook his head before turning to Harry with a hint of hesitation. "I received the Hogwarts admission list for this year, but, that young lady, is she Granger?¡±


    "Haha!" Hagrid laughed heartily. "I''ve been looking forward to this moment all day, Mr. Ollivander. This is Potter, Harry Potter."


    "Good morning, sir," Harry greeted in a slightly hoarse voice.


    "Merlin¡¯s beard!" Ollivander examined him closely, his eyes flickering with incredulity.


    "I thought so¡­ Yes, you look a great deal like your mother. Boys often resemble their mothers, but it¡¯s rare to see such a striking resemblance, Mr. Potter. Well, except for the eyes and hair, those are your father¡¯s. Fascinating, isn¡¯t it?"


    "Yes, sir." Hagrid chuckled. "When I first met Harry, I had the exact same reaction as you.¡±


    "Ah, truly a most anticipated guest." Mr. Ollivander appeared delighted, though his eyes were drawn, almost involuntarily, to Harry¡¯s forehead. However, his thick fringe obscured anything from view.


    "I remember every wand I¡¯ve ever sold. Your father¡¯s was mahogany, excellent for Transfiguration, and he was exceptionally skilled in that field. Your mother¡¯s, on the other hand, was willow. Well, to be precise, it was the wand that chose them. You see, I¡¯ve always believed that it is the wand that chooses the wizard."


    Harry blinked, an awkward yet polite smile forming on his face. What else could he do? He couldn¡¯t exactly say, "No, sir, I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about."


    The discomfort made Harry instinctively scratch his head, ruffling his bangs, unintentionally revealing the lightning-shaped scar.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Harry toyed with his wand, a faint headache creeping in.


    A wand purchased from Ollivanders had led to many things. He had also learned a name from Hagrid, Voldemort.


    Although Hagrid was reluctant to say much, the limited information he provided still left Harry unsettled.


    Voldemort had once been such a terrifying figure that people feared to even speak his name. Even now, Hagrid hesitated before uttering it.


    Voldemort had killed his parents.


    He had tried to kill Harry, but instead, he had died, leaving only a scar on Harry¡¯s forehead.


    Because of that scar, or perhaps because Voldemort had been defeated while attempting to kill him, Harry had been hailed as the savior who vanquished the Dark Lord, making him famous throughout the wizarding world.


    There was even a widely known title attached to his name: The Boy Who Lived.


    Harry wasn¡¯t particularly fond of the title. He would have preferred something cooler, like The Melancholy Prince or Son of the Wind.


    But honestly, did wizards even have common sense?


    How could a baby, who knew absolutely nothing, kill a powerful Dark Lord?


    There had to be some unknown reason.


    Unfortunately, Hagrid didn¡¯t know, or perhaps he did but refused to say. Either way, there was no way for Harry to find out.


    So, he turned to books. He bought several that weren¡¯t on his required shopping list:


    A History of Modern Magic.


    The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.


    Important Magical Events of the 20th Century.


    Biographies of Famous Wizards in Modern and Contemporary Times.


    All of these books contained some records of him, but the details were frustratingly vague. Most focused on how cruel and terrifying Voldemort had been at the time, and then, in a single sentence, they stated that Voldemort had "met his Waterloo" when he tried to kill Harry Potter and subsequently vanished without a trace.


    While reading these books gave Harry some understanding of the wizarding world, it didn¡¯t answer the questions he truly wanted to know.


    However, during this process, he came across a name, one that stood out.


    Albus Dumbledore.


    Current Headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry had seen the name on his acceptance letter. But after reading about him, Harry was deeply impressed.


    "Holy crap, this guy is incredible."


    That was Harry¡¯s immediate reaction upon learning about Dumbledore.


    Every book that mentioned him was overflowing with praise. The most common descriptions included:


    Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


    Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.


    Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.


    Order of Merlin, First Class.


    And so on.


    Thinking back, even Hagrid had spoken of Dumbledore with deep admiration, his tone far more serious than usual. It seemed that this legendary wizard was truly revered in the magical world.


    The books also mentioned that there had been a Dark Lord before Voldemort, one whom Dumbledore had personally defeated.


    As for Voldemort himself, even at the height of his power, the only wizard he had ever feared was Dumbledore. Because of Dumbledore¡¯s presence, Voldemort had never dared to attack Hogwarts, making it the safest place in the entire British wizarding world at the time.


    Harry found it a little strange that someone so powerful had chosen to remain in a school as Headmaster, rather than becoming the Minister for Magic, the highest position in the wizarding government.


    He¡¯s powerful but uninterested in power.


    He seems too perfect.


    Are there truly perfect people in this world? Harry was skeptical.


    And when he saw Dumbledore¡¯s portrait in his textbook, his doubts only grew stronger.


    Because this world-famous Dumbledore, with his long white hair and beard, looked eerily similar to Neil.


    And that Neil, had wanted to take over his body.


    ----


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 Chapter 11

    [Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    During the month leading up to the start of the school year, Harry lived comfortably at the Dursleys'' house.


    Although Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia strongly disliked magic and anything related to it, they had long known that there was something magical about Harry. Now, they were merely confirming it.


    Moreover, they didn¡¯t want to upset Harry, who now clearly had magical powers, and naturally, they preferred not to anger him.


    Aside from Harry himself, the most excited person about this was Dudley.


    Even though Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were reluctant to let Dudley get involved in anything magical, he was in the same house, after all. Avoiding magic completely would have been difficult unless Harry deliberately hid it.


    "Oh, Harry, can you turn into XXX for me?" was the question Dudley asked most frequently over the past month.


    However, the answer was always no. After so many refusals, Dudley gradually lost interest in magic. In his opinion, nothing seemed impressive, this wasn¡¯t good, that wasn¡¯t good, and magic wasn¡¯t all that great either.


    Harry felt a bit embarrassed. He wasn¡¯t sure whether the kind of magic Dudley expected was even possible, he just knew that he, personally, couldn''t do it. After all, he was a complete novice who hadn¡¯t even entered the magical world yet. What embarrassed Harry the most was that his lack of ability made Dudley look down on the wizarding world.


    Still, Harry tried his best and managed to perform a few simple spells:


    The Unlocking Charm (Alohomora), now Harry never needed to carry his keys when going out.


    The Lighting Charm (Lumos), rendering flashlights useless.


    The Levitation Charm (Wingardium Leviosa), Dudley loved this one, as Harry could make him float in the air for a short time, as if he were swimming.


    The only downside was that Harry couldn''t sustain the spells for long. He figured it was because his magical power was still too weak.


    However, as he flipped through his first-year textbooks, Harry noticed something odd, there was no mention of words like "magic" or "spells" in them. That struck him as strange.


    According to Hagrid, once first-year students arrived at Hogwarts, something called the Trace would be placed on them. This spell allowed the Ministry of Magic, the governing body of the wizarding world, to detect any magic performed outside of school. As per the current regulations, underage wizards weren¡¯t allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts until they turned seventeen.


    Harry found this rule ridiculous, but Hagrid had spoken seriously about it, so he made a note of it. Fortunately, there were no such restrictions before the school year officially began. This allowed Harry to show off his abilities in front of Dudley.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    On September 1st, Uncle Vernon drove Harry to King''s Cross Station in London.


    Initially, Harry had considered taking the Knight Bus, but after thinking it over, he decided against it. Hagrid had warned him about avoiding magic around Muggles, and Harry wasn¡¯t sure if summoning the Knight Bus in broad daylight counted as a violation.


    A triple-decker bus appearing out of nowhere and then vanishing was certainly noticeable.


    That morning, Uncle Vernon drove Harry to London.


    Dudley threw a fit, crying and screaming that he wanted to go as well. However, he was forced to stay home since he also had to report to his new school that day. Harry figured Dudley would be sulking for days unless Aunt Petunia bought him something she normally wouldn¡¯t allow.


    If you didn¡¯t already know about it, it would be hard to imagine that a train to the wizarding world existed inside King¡¯s Cross Station.


    Hagrid was a rather contradictory person.


    He could be quite absentminded, yet he had remembered to give Harry a birthday present on July 31st, a beautiful snowy owl.


    At first, Harry had considered naming her Jennifer or Fisher, after his two favorite actresses. However, while reading A History of Magic, he felt that Hedwig sounded much better.


    But despite all his attentiveness, Hagrid had completely forgotten to tell Harry how to find the right platform.


    Fortunately, Harry had assumed that wizards wouldn¡¯t board the same train as Muggles, so he had researched the topic in advance.


    Books provided plenty of information about Hogwarts. According to what he had read, it was the oldest school of magic still in existence. Since the castle was hidden by enchantments, it could only be reached through specific means.


    In the past, students used a magical object called a Portkey to reach the school. However, that method had since been replaced by the Hogwarts Express.


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    Because the wizarding world was kept secret from Muggles, the platform for the train was concealed within a normal train station. Entering it required a special method.


    Harry arrived early at the train station. He saw many children like himself, carrying large and small bags, accompanied by strange animals, walking straight through a solid wall on the platform, sometimes alone, sometimes with their parents.


    What Harry found most interesting was that, aside from himself, no one seemed to notice this bizarre scene. After all, even though the station wasn¡¯t particularly crowded, there were still enough people around to make it rather unusual for someone to run straight into a pillar and then vanish.


    A Confundus Charm!


    This was a spell Harry had learned about from Hagrid and his textbook, A History of Magic. It wasn¡¯t mentioned in other schoolbooks, including The Standard Book of Spells.


    Harry figured it must be a relatively advanced spell. According to Hagrid, the entrance to The Leaky Cauldron was also concealed using a Confundus Charm, ensuring that ordinary people never even noticed the worn-down little pub.


    It seemed likely that the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 operated on similar magic, making Muggles completely oblivious to it.


    Even though Harry was fairly certain about his theory, he still waited for a moment when no one was watching before stepping forward. Crossing the barrier felt no different from walking through a tunnel, and in an instant, he found himself standing before a gleaming red steam locomotive with a sign that read:


    "Hogwarts Express."


    "Wow. Retro style!" Harry nodded seriously.


    The train was scheduled to depart at eleven o¡¯clock. Wizards, it seemed, had a terrible sense of time. Harry had arrived at ten-thirty, yet the train was still nearly empty. He pushed his cart forward and stepped aboard.


    The old-fashioned train carriages were quite refined, with separate compartments. Judging by the numbering, each was meant to hold four people, but Harry was fairly certain that unless someone was the size of Hagrid, each compartment could easily fit at least eight.


    He stowed his luggage beneath the seat and placed a few smaller bags, along with Hedwig¡¯s cage, in the overhead rack. He had considered letting Hedwig, his snowy owl, out to fly, but after a moment of hesitation, he decided against it.


    Instead, he thought it would be more interesting to chat with his future classmates, or perhaps some older students.


    Today, Harry had deliberately worn a plain white T-shirt and tied his hair up in a high ponytail. Yes, his mischievous side had surfaced once again. He had fooled over a hundred of his Muggle classmates before. Now, it was time for the wizarding children to experience the dark nature of humanity.


    As eleven o¡¯clock approached, more and more people began entering the platform.


    With less than three minutes until departure, a tall, thin man with red hair and a slightly tired expression entered the platform alongside a plump woman and six children.


    Despite the increasing number of students boarding the train, Harry still sat alone in his compartment.


    For some reason, most students who glanced inside chose to move on, preferring another seat.


    "Ha, so here you are."


    An arrogant voice came from the doorway.


    Harry, who had been gazing out the window, turned in surprise. Standing at the entrance was a girl with bushy brown hair, her arms crossed as she looked at him with a self-satisfied expression.


    Her lips curled slightly into a pretty, playful smile, though there was an unmistakable air of superiority about her.


    It was the girl Harry had met at Madam Malkin¡¯s robe shop.


    "Looks like you don¡¯t remember my name.¡±


    The girl was sharper than he expected. Raising an eyebrow, she dragged her trunk inside, took a seat across from him, and extended her hand.


    "Well then, let¡¯s introduce ourselves properly this time. My name is Hermione Granger. Hello, Mr. Harry Potter."


    Harry found her quite intriguing, far more interesting than any of his previous classmates. He immediately reached out and shook her hand.


    "Hello, Miss Hermione Granger! Nice to see you again."


    "You don¡¯t sound very happy about it."


    Hermione raised her delicate eyebrows, which made her already-large eyes seem even bigger.


    "Back in Diagon Alley, why didn¡¯t you tell me you were so famous? I bought a lot of books after I got home, and so many of them mentioned you."


    Harry let out a sigh and spread his arms.


    "If I told you that I learned about my own history at almost the same time you did, would you believe me?"


    "How is that possible?"


    Hermione looked skeptical, but after a moment, she seemed to realize her questioning tone might be rude, so she softened her voice slightly.


    "I mean, how could that be? You¡¯re famous, you know, some newspapers even call you ¡®The Savior.¡¯ Well, that paper stopped publishing a few years ago, but I saw a photocopy of an article in Modern Dark Wizard Tactics."


    Harry blinked, then chuckled awkwardly.


    "Well, I might have to take back what I just said. Looks like you know more about me than I do. At least, I¡¯ve never seen that article before."


    "Really?" Hermione still seemed doubtful, but then she seemed to remember something.


    "Oh! The book said you were raised by relatives. And your relatives are¡­ hmm¡­ Muggles?"


    Harry smirked at her hesitancy.


    "Yes, my uncles are Muggles. Or, to use wizarding terminology, they¡¯re ¡®non-magical people.¡¯"


    Hermione shrugged, clearly seeing no issue with this fact.


    "Haha, then our situations are quite similar." Harry smiled.


    "I live with my aunt and uncle, my mom¡¯s sister and her husband. They¡¯re Muggles too. Before the day I met you, I didn¡¯t even know wizards existed."


    "Seriously?" Hermione¡¯s eyes widened in shock.


    "Then, do you at least remember Voldemort?¡±


    Before Harry could respond, an unfamiliar, nasally voice came from just outside the compartment.


    "Did I hear that correctly? Someone actually dares to say the Dark Lord¡¯s name?"


    A boy with platinum blonde hair and pale skin stepped halfway into the compartment. His expression was one of mild curiosity, though his tone carried an unmistakable air of superiority.


    Behind him stood two large, bulky boys. Harry¡¯s first impression was that they could have been Dudley¡¯s cousins.


    The pale boy glanced around the compartment before his gaze landed on Hermione. It was obvious he had identified the source of the previous comment.


    His eyes swept over her critically, and then he let out a short, amused scoff.


    Both his tone and expression were dripping with disdain. It was almost impressive how vividly he could convey arrogance at such a young age.


    "A Muggle-born, huh? Well, that explains it."


    Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, his two companions following closely behind.


    Hermione sat frozen for a moment, seemingly too angry to react. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, her face flushed red with indignation.


    "How can someone be so revolting?"


    Harry raised an eyebrow.


    "He¡¯s annoying, for sure. We should give him a good beating if we ever get the chance."


    Though he disliked resorting to physical fights like Dudley did, Harry had picked up a thing or two from his rough childhood and action games.


    At the very least, taking down that scrawny, smug-looking kid wouldn¡¯t be a problem.


    What Harry didn¡¯t consider was that, in reality, he himself looked even more delicate than the other boy.


    After all, most people still mistook him for a girl.


    ----


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 Chapter 12

    [Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    "You... you¡¯d better not say that name out loud."


    A somewhat timid voice sounded, and a round-faced boy with dark hair stood at the door. He was dragging a suitcase nearly half his height, and in his arms, he was holding a frog.


    The notice mentioned that new students were allowed to bring pets.


    The requirement was a non-magical creature, with owls, cats, and frogs being the recommended choices.


    However, Hagrid had said that rats, ferrets, bats, ravens, spiders, snakes, lizards, scorpions, and dogs were also acceptable. As for magical creatures, Hagrid had told Harry that Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was a great book, containing descriptions of various magical creatures.


    The school required this book as part of the mandatory reading list, so Harry had taken a look at it, and to his surprise, he was fascinated. There were so many strange and bizarre creatures in this world, no less intriguing than those in the world called Aegean in Neil¡¯s memory.


    Of course, according to Hagrid, this wasn¡¯t a first-year textbook, but young wizards needed to learn about magical creatures as early as possible since most of them were considered dangerous.


    Harry could tell that Hagrid strongly disagreed. It was as if he were reading from a script.


    As their conversation continued, Harry confirmed his suspicion, Hagrid had mentioned more than once that he wanted to raise a dragon.


    Later, when Harry read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, he found dragons listed in the final section, highlighted as highly dangerous. Judging by the descriptions, dragons were definitely not suitable as pets.


    Harry was sure about that. But then again, he didn¡¯t think the other listed creatures were good pet choices either. Setting aside snakes and lizards, he knew some of his classmates had siblings or even parents with peculiar tastes who enjoyed keeping strange and exotic animals.


    When visiting his classmates¡¯ homes, he had seen people keeping snakes and lizards.


    To be honest, the golden python was quite beautiful. Leopard geckos, with their large, staring eyes, were incredibly cute.


    But rats, bats, spiders, and scorpions? And among the three recommended pets a frog?


    At first, Harry thought it was a joke. But now, standing before him was a boy actually holding a frog in his arms. And surprisingly, the frog seemed very well-behaved.


    Alright, this must be magic.


    Harry reassured himself.


    "Ah? Why?¡±


    Unlike Harry, Hermione didn¡¯t seem the least bit bothered by the frog. Compared to him, she appeared far more accepting of such things. Of course, it was also possible that she was more intrigued by the round-faced boy¡¯s words. She asked curiously:


    "The book about, He Who Must Not Be Named."


    "Don¡¯t say that name!"


    The round-faced boy interrupted Hermione. His voice was initially loud, but it gradually grew quieter, almost to the point of being inaudible.


    Hermione frowned but, recalling that the book also seemed to avoid using Voldemort¡¯s name directly, she nodded and said:


    "Well, the book¡¯s description of that man is quite vague, only emphasizing how dark and cruel his reign was. But there¡¯s very little actual information about him. Of course, it does mention his disappearance, but even that is extremely unclear."


    At that moment, Hermione turned to look at Harry and added,


    "What¡¯s even more unfortunate is that not even the person involved seems to remember what happened.¡±


    "No one wants to, or dares to, mention his name," the round-faced boy said in a near whisper, lowering his head. "There was a time when anyone who dared to say his name would die and sometimes, their entire family would perish along with them."


    "Hmm. I think I read something like that in a book." Hermione¡¯s interest was piqued. "Why don¡¯t you come in and sit down? Let¡¯s have a proper conversation. I¡¯m really curious!"


    "But¡­ is that okay?"


    The boy lifted his head, glancing at Hermione before shifting his gaze to Harry.


    "Of course," Harry said with a smile, only to startle Neville with his voice.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    After a brief introduction, Harry and Hermione learned that the round-faced boy¡¯s name was Neville Longbottom.


    When Neville realized that Harry was really Harry, he was so shocked that the frog in his hands slipped to the floor. The frog, however, was incredibly obedient, it simply lay there without making a sound.


    During their short exchange, the three of them got to know each other.


    Hermione was born into a Muggle family and was the first witch in at least three generations. Of course, she wasn¡¯t sure if there had been any witches or wizards among her distant relatives, as they rarely interacted. Her parents were dentists and considered well-off in the UK.


    The Longbottoms, on the other hand, were a pure-blood wizarding family.


    According to Neville, every member of his family was a wizard, and he wasn¡¯t aware of any exceptions. His parents had both been Aurors, Harry understood that as the magical world¡¯s equivalent of sheriffs, but they had been severely injured during the fight against Voldemort and were now receiving treatment at St. Mungo¡¯s, the wizarding hospital in London.


    Harry¡¯s case was the most unusual, as he was a mix of both worlds.


    From the books, he had learned that his father came from a wizarding family, with nearly all his ancestors being magical. His mother, like Hermione, was a witch born to Muggle parents. By that logic, using a less strict standard, Harry could be considered part of a wizarding family.


    But since his parents had died so early, he had grown up in the Muggle world. Until he received his letter, he had no contact with the wizarding world at all.


    Through Neville, Harry and Hermione got a preliminary understanding of just how terrifying Voldemort had once been. Even after so many years, the wizarding world still hesitated to mention his name, referring to him instead as "You Know Who."


    "He Who Must Not Be Named," or something similar.


    "So before all this, you had no idea how famous you were?"


    After hearing everything, Hermione looked utterly incredulous. "Oh my God! I mean, didn¡¯t your relatives ever mention it to you? That¡¯s unbelievable."


    Harry simply spread his hands, indicating that he had no clue.


    Neville didn¡¯t say much after introducing himself, but he couldn¡¯t seem to stop glancing at Harry¡¯s forehead. When he realized Harry had noticed, he quickly looked away.


    Harry found Neville quite interesting.


    If Harry looked like a girl but actually had a wild personality, then Neville looked like a boy but actually had a timid nature. Harry figured it might have something to do with growing up without his parents. Children who lacked parental care were bound to have a tough childhood.


    Harry felt that if he hadn¡¯t gained Neil¡¯s memories at the age of six, memories that had absorbed most of his attention, he might have ended up in a similar situation. Well, maybe even worse, considering he had practically been living in the cupboard under the stairs.


    The train had been running for some time now.


    Harry glanced at his watch. It was noon. He hadn¡¯t eaten much that morning due to the excitement, and now his stomach was growling.


    Just then, a clicking sound came from the corridor. Moments later, a cheerful woman with dimples slid open the compartment door and smiled warmly.


    "Want anything from the trolley, dears? Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties..."


    "I¡¯d like a pumpkin pasty. And, uh¡­ two Chocolate Frogs," Neville said.


    Hermione blinked, glanced at Neville, then at the dazzling assortment of treats on the trolley, and hesitated.


    "Well, I suppose I¡¯ll have something too. Do you have water or any drinks?¡±


    As she spoke, she reached into her small bag and pulled out a handful of British pounds. But after a moment, she seemed to remember something and quickly swapped them for two gold coins, a few silver ones, and a handful of bronze ones.


    "I¡¯ll take a bit of everything."


    Harry stood up with a grin, pulling a handful of gold Galleons from the small pouch Hagrid had given him. Then he turned to Neville and Hermione with a smile.


    "It¡¯s on me, let¡¯s celebrate our friendship."


    For some reason, Neville looked a little excited, his round face turning slightly red.


    Hermione pursed her lips, mumbling something like, "I haven¡¯t even decided if I want to be your friend yet." But she didn¡¯t refuse.


    Soon, the large tables and chairs in the compartment were piled high with all sorts of strange foods and drinks.


    The treats were cheaper than Harry had expected, the entire feast cost less than a single gold Galleon. He handed the woman a Galleon and received two silver Sickles and a handful of bronze Knuts as change. Harry wasn¡¯t sure if five pounds would have bought this many snacks at Tesco.


    When Harry invited Hermione and Neville to eat with him, Neville shyly whispered a "thank you" but only took a single pumpkin pasty. Hermione thanked him more openly and sampled a little of everything.


    Then, Bertie Bott¡¯s Every Flavour Beans surprised both Harry and Hermione.


    They were unlucky, one got mustard, and the other got cilantro-flavored.


    Harry hated cilantro. He had to gulp down several mouthfuls of pumpkin juice before he could recover. He slumped back into the wide seat, looking utterly defeated.


    Hermione, having nearly choked on the mustard, turned red and had to take several sips of water before she could breathe properly again.


    "Neville, you should have warned us!"


    Hermione turned to Neville in frustration, only to find him grinning.


    Neville instantly shrank under her glare, stammering, "I-I forgot..."


    In the fancy little box he had just opened, a Chocolate Frog was trying to poke its head out but couldn¡¯t quite manage.


    "Hey, I wasn¡¯t really blaming you."


    Seeing Neville¡¯s wounded expression, Hermione immediately felt a little guilty. "Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me."


    "No, it¡¯s fine. I¡­ I just have a terrible memory. I tend to forget things easily."


    Neville waved his hands quickly.


    And in that moment, the Chocolate Frog in his box seized its chance, it jumped out, fell to the floor, and then.


    "Oh."


    Neville¡¯s large pet frog, lying on the floor, swallowed the small Chocolate Frog in a single gulp.


    However, due to the angle, only Harry, who was still slouched in his seat, saw what had happened.


    Was that cannibalism?


    Harry vaguely recalled a bizarre fifth-grade science lesson where the teacher had assigned each student a chicken to raise. For some reason, one of his classmate¡¯s parents had mixed chicken meat into their bird¡¯s feed.


    Later, another parent, who apparently had too much free time, reported them for animal abuse and cannibalism.


    Well, weird things like that seemed to be happening more and more in the UK these days.


    Neville, however, didn¡¯t seem to care about his missing Chocolate Frog in the slightest. Instead, he pulled a card from the fancy box.


    "Bridget Wenlock?"


    Neville¡¯s eyes lit up. "I already have this one, but I should be able to trade it for a good card!"


    "What¡¯s that?" Harry asked, curious.


    Before Neville could answer, the compartment door slid open once again.


    ----


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 Chapter 13

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    The door swung open, and a red-haired head peeked inside.


    The boy appeared slightly older than Harry and the others, with bright red hair and a few freckles scattered across his face.


    Harry had a vague recollection of him. He was one of the four red-haired boys from the family that had last entered the platform, a memory etched in Harry''s mind. Judging by his features, he seemed to be one of the twins.


    "Hey, Neville. Hello, dear first-years," the red-haired boy greeted, glancing around the carriage. It was clear that he knew Neville.


    "Hi..." Neville hesitated.


    "I''m George." The boy laughed and closed the door behind him. "He''s not here. But look, Neville Longbottom is.¡±


    "It''s not here either!¡± a nearly identical voice chimed in. "Could Madame Malkin have lied to us? We¡¯ve searched almost everywhere, could he be hiding in the bathroom?"


    "Or in the prefects¡¯ compartment? Maybe one of them took him in?"


    Their voices faded as they walked away.


    "Who was that?" Hermione asked, frowning.


    "Ah? Oh, George..." Neville was unwrapping another Chocolate Frog. This time, the frog leaped onto the table but quickly stopped moving. Neville grabbed it and popped it straight into his mouth. After hearing Hermione¡¯s question, he hastily chewed and swallowed before replying.


    "George Weasley. Well, it could¡¯ve been Fred Weasley too. They¡¯re twins and love playing tricks. I can never tell them apart," Neville admitted. "But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are really nice people..."


    "They''re all from wizarding families?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly. "Weasley, Weasley... I think I¡¯ve read that name before."


    "Really?" Neville sounded uncertain. "My Uncle Algie once mentioned that the Weasleys are an old wizarding family.¡±


    Neville''s words were incomplete. What his uncle had actually said was that the Weasleys, like the Longbottoms and the Blacks, were all part of ancient wizarding lineages.


    "I wonder who they¡¯re looking for?" Neville mused.


    "Maybe I have an idea." Hermione glanced at Harry beside her, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.


    "By the way, Neville, what are you unwrapping?" Harry asked, stuffing the rest of a pumpkin pasty into his mouth, deliberately changing the subject.


    Of course, he was also curious about what Neville was doing.


    By now, Neville had already opened five Chocolate Frogs. However, he had only eaten two, leaving the others on the table. Instead, he seemed far more interested in the small cards he pulled from the packages.


    Since Harry was paying, Neville hadn''t bought any pumpkin pasties. Instead, he had purchased six Chocolate Frogs, opened five, but hadn''t even touched the nine that Harry had bought.


    "Oh, I forgot again." Neville smacked his forehead and handed over one of the cards in his hand.


    "They''re wizard cards, each one features a famous and powerful wizard. I think there are over 500 in total, but I only have a little over 300. I heard from George that his younger brother, Ron, who should also be starting this year, has nearly all 500."


    At the mention of the 500 cards, Neville¡¯s face betrayed a hint of envy.


    Harry took the cards, and Hermione leaned in to examine them.


    Each of the five cards featured a three-dimensional portrait of a wizard, with their names elegantly inscribed beneath them.


    The five cards were Bridget Wenlock, Vlad Dracul, Bowman Wright, Mungo Bonham, and Paracelsus. The last name was abbreviated, the full name was too long to fit on the front. The description on the back identified him as a distinguished master of alchemy.


    It reminded Harry of how he and Dudley used to collect sports cards. However, while Harry collected baseball, basketball, and football cards, Dudley had focused on basketball and rugby.


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    Harry''s old collection was now locked away in a small box under his bed on Privet Drive.


    Seeing the intricately designed wizard cards, Harry, who had always enjoyed collecting things, felt a surge of interest. If there were only 500 of these, they seemed much easier to collect than the countless sports cards he used to chase after.


    As Harry considered this, he flipped over one of the cards and was surprised to find that two of the wizards had disappeared from their portraits.


    "I know why," Hermione said quickly, eager to answer before Harry could even ask.


    "In magical photos, the people in the pictures move, and sometimes, they leave their frames to visit other places. That¡¯s why you¡¯ll often find characters missing or completely different in magical paintings and photographs."


    "That¡¯s amazing," Harry said, genuinely impressed. Like him, Hermione had only recently been introduced to the wizarding world, but she already seemed to know far more than he did. It made him feel embarrassingly inadequate, like he was falling behind.


    Hermione wrinkled her nose proudly, looking like a smug little squirrel.


    After returning Neville¡¯s five cards, Harry opened one of his own Chocolate Frogs. The moment he lifted the lid, the frog sprang out, landed right next to Hermione¡¯s cup, and plunged straight into her drink.


    The Chocolate Frog, clearly not designed for swimming, sank almost immediately.


    "Sorry." Harry smiled apologetically at Hermione, but she didn¡¯t seem to mind at all. Instead, she was eagerly waiting to see Harry¡¯s card.


    Harry had received nine different cards, which made his collection seem surprisingly easy to build. If the trolley witch had come around again, he might have bought more.


    Among the nine cards, there were two that intrigued Harry the most. Surprisingly, they weren¡¯t Merlin, the most famous wizard in Britain, or his longtime rival, Morgana, but rather Dumbledore and Cliodna.


    The reason for the first was obvious, he was the headmaster of the magical school they were about to attend, and every book Harry had bought described him as a flawless man. When Harry looked at his long white beard, he couldn¡¯t help but think of an old wizard he had once seen in a dream, and a faint sense of awe crept over him.


    As for Cliodna, well that was a little harder to explain.


    The legendary goddess of the "Promised Land," widely known even in the Muggle world, was described on the card as a follower of Druidism. But that wasn¡¯t what caught Harry¡¯s attention. Nor was it the fact that the stunningly beautiful woman depicted on the card had been picking her nose at the exact moment he pulled it from the box.


    What really stood out to him was her outfit.


    It looked almost like a druid¡¯s robe, seemingly woven from grass and leaves, which did a rather thorough job of displaying the figure of the legendary goddess. Harry wondered if changing the angle of the card would reveal something even more unique.


    But with Hermione sitting right next to him, he decided against testing that theory.


    "Huh? Where¡¯s Trevor?" Neville suddenly remembered his toad and looked around.


    "It¡¯s... huh?" Harry had been about to say that it was right under Neville¡¯s feet, but when he glanced down, Trevor¡ªwho had been lying motionless just a moment ago¡ªwas gone.


    The three of them got down on their hands and knees, carefully checking under the seats, but there was no sign of the toad.


    "This isn¡¯t the first time," Neville grumbled. "Trevor always seems to want to escape. He gets lost all the time."


    "Don¡¯t worry," Hermione reassured him. "He¡¯s probably just hopped into another compartment. Let¡¯s go look for him together."


    Harry, however, had a different thought.


    Of course, that wasn¡¯t the kind of thing he could say out loud, especially with Neville looking like he was about to cry. So, instead, he helped Hermione comfort their new friend and set off with them to find the missing toad.


    Hermione was one of those people.


    That was the impression Harry had of her in that moment. Even for someone like him, who was usually up for all sorts of mischief, the idea of knocking on every compartment door just to ask about a toad was a little embarrassing. But Hermione? She had no hesitation.


    Even when they stumbled across older students in some compartments, hugging and whispering to each other, Hermione didn¡¯t seem fazed at all.


    Unfortunately, after asking around, no one had seen Trevor. Neville¡¯s face grew more and more crestfallen, and Harry, who had found the situation amusing at first, began to feel bad for him.


    Finally, they reached the last compartment. As Harry knocked, he raised an eyebrow slightly.


    Inside, there was only one boy.


    He had red hair, pale skin, and a face full of freckles. Harry was fairly certain he had been one of the last people to step onto the platform with the Weasley twins, probably the youngest of the brothers.


    If Neville was right, that meant his name was Ron. And if George had been telling the truth, this kid owned nearly five hundred wizard cards.


    But that wasn¡¯t what made Harry lift his eyebrows.


    Ron was sitting alone at the edge of the table, playing chess. But it was obvious that he was playing against himself. An unfinished sandwich rested beside him.


    "Excuse me, have you seen a toad? Neville¡¯s toad is missing," Hermione asked.


    "N-no... I haven¡¯t." The red-haired boy was clearly startled by the sudden arrival of three people in his compartment, and he stammered as he answered.


    "Come on, you¡¯re leading a battle here, at least try to take it seriously!" a knight-shaped chess piece on horseback grumbled. "Septimus would never play like this!"


    "Is this wizard¡¯s chess?" Hermione¡¯s eyes suddenly lit up, momentarily setting aside her concern for Trevor. She stepped up to the table, her curiosity piqued by the intricate, though somewhat worn, chess pieces.


    "I read in a book that an important part of wizard¡¯s chess is that the pieces have to trust their player, right?"


    "Uh¡­ y-yeah¡­" The red-haired boy seemed surprised by how much Hermione knew. His face even turned a little red as she leaned in close, inspecting the board with great interest.


    Harry, watching this unfold, suddenly felt entertained.


    "Now this is interesting."


    Feeling playful, Harry casually strolled over and pretended to be just as fascinated. But instead of standing, he deliberately sat down right next to the red-haired boy. Very close.


    Suddenly, the boy¡¯s entire face turned as red as his hair. Even his ears went pink. And then¡­


    "Can the chess pieces move on their own?" Harry asked, his voice deliberately low and rough.


    The sound nearly made Ron fall right out of his seat.


    ----


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 Chapter 14

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    "Are you really a boy?" The red-haired boy, Ron, asked this question for the third time in five minutes.


    "How about we go to the bathroom and check?" Harry asked with a mischievous smile.


    "N-no¡­ that''s not necessary¡­" Ron shook his head quickly. He was feeling conflicted. Just now, when Harry Potter, the boy he, his brothers, and his sister had talked about countless times, sat beside him, Ron''s heartbeat sped up uncontrollably.


    But is he really a boy?


    Ron felt a bit troubled.


    But after thinking about it, he couldn''t help but laugh again. "Fred and George searched the entire carriage for Harry. No wonder they couldn¡¯t find him. It would¡¯ve been strange if they had! Haha.¡±


    Harry smiled knowingly, but Hermione looked disgusted, thinking the two boys had terrible taste. As for Neville, he was so lost in his despair over his missing toad that he didn¡¯t react.


    Once Ron realized that Harry was, in fact, Harry, he immediately agreed to go to Harry¡¯s compartment after being invited.


    Ron was intrigued by Harry, not because of his face, but because of the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. As for Harry and Hermione, their interest was in Wizard''s Chess. They were at an age where everything about the magical world fascinated them.


    Back in the previous carriage, Neville was still frustrated, he had yet to find his toad, Trevor.


    Harry didn¡¯t particularly care about the toad, but seeing the distressed expression on his new friend¡¯s face, he thought for a moment and decided to try a little trick.


    While Ron and Hermione played chess, Harry pulled a silver coin from his pocket.


    This silver coin wasn''t a Sickle, the wizarding currency, but a small piece from Harry¡¯s personal collection, an old Victorian one-shilling coin. He casually played with it in his hand, but in his mind, he silently thought: "Neville¡¯s toad is lost¡­ Neville¡¯s toad is lost¡­"


    Then, with a flick of his thumb, the coin soared into the air, spinning evenly before landing on the back of his hand.


    He looked down, but didn¡¯t see Her Majesty the Queen¡¯s face.


    "So it¡¯s not lost?"


    Harry raised an eyebrow, placed the coin in his hand again, thought for a moment, and silently repeated in his mind: "Neville¡¯s toad is in this cabin¡­ Neville¡¯s toad is in this cabin¡­"


    Once again, the silver coin flipped through the air, this time, when it landed, the Queen¡¯s smiling face stared back at him.


    ¡°So, the toad is here after all¡­" Harry thought, finding the situation rather interesting.


    He bent down to check the spot where he had a hunch Trevor might be. It was dim under the table, but even in the shadows, he saw no sign of the toad.


    Then, he reached out and felt around the area in his memory. His fingers brushed against something soft and slippery. A dark shape flickered, and suddenly, the shadow transformed into a deep green toad.


    Harry: ¡°¡­¡±


    Raising a hand, Harry pulled the toad out from beneath the table.


    "Trevor?" Neville, who had been sulking, suddenly brightened, grabbing the toad from Harry¡¯s hands. "Harry, where did you find him?"


    Harry frowned slightly. "Neville, is your toad a magical creature?" According to Hogwarts'' admission letter, first-years could bring pets, but magical creatures were not allowed.


    "A magical creature? No." Neville shook his head quickly. "My Uncle Algie bought him for me. The shopkeeper, Madam Zinnia, said he was just an ordinary toad when we got him. We even made sure he was allowed at school¡­"


    "Why do you ask?" Hermione, now paying full attention to Harry and Neville, seemed eager for an explanation. Harry suspected part of her interest came from wanting to abandon the chess match, where she was clearly losing.


    Unlike Muggle chess, Wizard¡¯s Chess pieces had personalities of their own. Ron had two sets, one inherited from his grandfather, which he had used for years and followed his commands obediently, and another passed down from his second eldest brother, Charlie Weasley, which he had given to Hermione.


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    That particular chess set was rebellious. Hermione¡¯s chess skills also weren¡¯t as sharp as Ron¡¯s, and her pieces kept arguing and disobeying her.


    "Just now, Trevor was under the table, but he was invisible," Harry explained.


    "Trevor can turn invisible?" Neville asked in disbelief. Ron and Hermione were just as intrigued.


    Harry suspected Hermione¡¯s curiosity was, at least partially, an excuse to avoid her inevitable loss. Ron, on the other hand, didn¡¯t seem to care much about winning, he was more interested in the toad that could apparently vanish.


    The four of them placed Trevor on the table and continued their game, but now it was Harry¡¯s turn to play.


    Well, five or six moves in, and Harry was already feeling numb.


    It wasn¡¯t just because Ron was ridiculously good at chess, Harry simply couldn¡¯t keep up. But that wasn¡¯t the worst part.


    No, the worst part was how obnoxious his chess pieces were.


    "Are you an idiot? If you move me there, I¡¯ll be taken by his tower immediately!"


    "Let the pawns go first! Ugh, useless! I¡¯m a knight, this isn¡¯t my job!"


    "You''re a coward! A complete coward! Keep playing like that, and you''ll lose in no time!¡±


    At the moment Harry was debating whether it would be more appropriate to admit defeat or simply flip the chessboard, Hermione suddenly let out a quiet gasp.


    Harry and Ron quickly turned their heads and noticed that Trevor¡¯s body seemed to become slightly transparent. It was only a faint change, but since they had all been paying close attention, they caught the difference immediately.


    However, as if startled by Hermione¡¯s gasp, or perhaps realizing that too many people were watching, Trevor opened his mouth slightly. The moment he did, the transparency vanished, and he returned to his usual deep green color.


    "Did you see that? Did it change just now?" Hermione asked anxiously, worried that her eyes might have been playing tricks on her.


    "Yes, I saw it too. He looked a bit more transparent for a moment," Harry nodded quickly, absentmindedly rearranging the chess pieces as he spoke.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Neither Harry nor Hermione had any interest in continuing their game against Ron. As for Neville, he hadn¡¯t wanted to play in the first place, so they all switched to chatting instead.


    Since they were all new students about to start school, the conversation inevitably turned to their arrival at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


    From the books he had read, Harry already knew that Hogwarts had four houses and seven years.


    Judging by their earlier experience searching for Trevor, unless there were a large number of students arriving at the school by other means, which seemed unlikely based on what they knew, the total number of students at Hogwarts should be around three hundred.


    That was roughly the same size as a small community primary school. Harry and Hermione had similar thoughts.


    "By the way, have you thought about the Sorting?" Hermione suddenly asked.


    "None of the books I bought mentioned how the houses are assigned. Even Hogwarts: A History only says that the Sorting Ceremony places students in different houses based on their characteristics."


    Harry and Neville both shook their heads.


    Harry had already given up trying to compare his knowledge to Hermione¡¯s. If they ignored video game consoles and Neil¡¯s science lessons, Harry felt like Hermione completely outmatched him in every academic aspect.


    As for Neville, well, it felt a bit rude to think this about a new friend, but Harry had to admit Neville wasn¡¯t the most exciting person. Right now, for example, he was just staring at Trevor in a daze.


    "Fred and George mentioned it," Ron, who came from a long line of wizards and wasn¡¯t exactly stupid, tilted his head in thought.


    "They said it''s really dangerous and difficult. Ugh, I have a bad feeling I¡¯ll end up in Hufflepuff."


    At this, Ron looked a bit downcast. "My whole family has been in Gryffindor. If I got sorted into Hufflepuff, they¡¯d probably laugh themselves to death.¡±


    "I¡­ I want to be in Hufflepuff." Neville muttered softly.


    From what little he had read and from Ron¡¯s comments, Harry vaguely felt that Hufflepuff was full of good people.


    Gryffindor valued bravery.


    Slytherin prized pure-blood lineage.


    Ravenclaw sought intelligence and wisdom.


    And Hufflepuff took whoever was left.


    But if that were the case, Harry was a little confused about where he would belong.


    Slytherin was the easiest to rule out.


    According to Ron¡¯s explanation of pure-blood ideology, Harry technically counted as a pure-blood wizard since both his parents had been magical. But in a stricter sense, he wasn¡¯t a true pure-blood, since his mother came from a Muggle family.


    Ravenclaw seemed unlikely too. Compared to Hermione, Harry didn¡¯t think he could be considered knowledgeable at all.


    As for Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Harry didn¡¯t think of himself as particularly brave either.


    "Looks like I¡¯ll be in Hufflepuff too¡­" Harry thought, then patted Neville¡¯s shoulder. "Don¡¯t worry, Neville. If I¡¯m with you, we¡¯ll face together."


    "What a joke!" Hermione looked at him in disbelief.


    "Harry, considering your situation, you¡¯re almost certainly going to be in Gryffindor. Your parents were both Gryffindors, and they were heroes! How could you not be a Gryffindor?"


    At this point, Hermione straightened up proudly. "I also want to be in Gryffindor. I want to become a great witch, like Dumbledore."


    "I thought you¡¯d want to be in Ravenclaw," Harry smirked.


    "Ravenclaw does sound good¡­ but I really admire Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, and both of them were in Gryffindor," Hermione admitted, looking slightly hesitant. Clearly, the appeal of being ''the smartest'' was very tempting for her.


    "We still don¡¯t know how the Sorting works, so there¡¯s no point worrying about it now," Ron sighed, shaking his head. But he still turned to Harry and added,


    "But I think Hermione¡¯s right. You¡¯ll probably be in Gryffindor. After all¡­"


    "Harry? Did I just hear someone say Harry?"


    A voice suddenly called out from outside their compartment.


    The train had been noisy ever since lunch, wizards clearly didn¡¯t have a tradition of keeping quiet while traveling. Harry and the others hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the commotion outside, but they hadn¡¯t expected that their conversation would be overheard.


    "Where? Where?" A chorus of voices responded.


    A moment later, the compartment door was pulled open from the outside, and a group of young wizards crowded around the entrance.


    Standing at the front was the platinum-haired boy who had mocked Hermione earlier.


    ----


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 Chapter 15

    [Chapter Size: 1700 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    The boy was pale, with platinum blonde hair, yet his gaze was haughty as he looked down on others. He was accompanied by two stocky boys, both at least two sizes smaller than Dudley but much taller than their peers. He carried himself like an older brother assuming leadership.


    The boy scanned the room, furrowed his brows slightly, and then, suddenly, his eyes lit up.


    At that moment, Harry¡¯s fringe was slightly messy, revealing a glimpse of his lightning-shaped scar.


    "So, you''re... Potter?" The platinum-haired boy looked Harry up and down, disbelief in his expression.


    "Obviously," Harry said smugly.


    At least a dozen young witches and wizards standing at the door fell silent.


    Obvious? How was that obvious? However, several of the girls¡¯ eyes were gleaming, their expressions suggesting they wanted to devour Harry alive.


    "Alright, Potter." The platinum-haired boy took a deep breath and nodded, seemingly accepting the fact. "I¡¯m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.¡±


    "Ahem." Hermione and Ron coughed twice, trying to stifle their laughter.


    "Pfft." Harry couldn''t help but chuckle.


    The surname Malfoy was a bit odd, it could easily be associated with words like untrustworthy or sly if one wasn¡¯t careful. That was one thing, but Draco? Draco? Just how narcissistic did a parent have to be to give their child that name?


    It was like meeting someone named Great Dragon in an English-speaking context, just asking to be mocked.


    Draco glared at Harry but said nothing. Instead, he turned his attention to Ron and Hermione.


    "Red hair, freckles, and second-hand robes. You must be a Weasley," Draco sneered, eyeing Ron with disdain. Ron¡¯s face immediately turned as red as his hair.


    He was wearing a somewhat worn-out set of robes, the edges slightly frayed. Given that he had mentioned having four older brothers (technically five, but only four had come up in conversation), the origin of those robes was obvious.


    Strangely, Draco didn¡¯t comment on Hermione. Instead, he looked back at Harry. "Surely, you can see that not all wizards are equal. I could offer you some valuable advice about choosing the right friends.¡±


    Harry tilted his head, glancing at the two stocky boys standing behind Draco, who looked utterly ridiculous. He looked at them, then at Draco. Looked at them again, then back at Draco.


    "Sorry, but I have my doubts about your judgment," Harry said seriously.


    This time, Ron and Hermione couldn''t hold back their laughter.


    "Potter..." Draco, who had been smirking moments ago, froze as his expression darkened.


    "Here¡¯s some advice for you, show respect. Otherwise, you¡¯ll end up no better than your parents. They got what they deserved for keeping bad company. In my opinion¡­"


    Draco never got to finish his sentence.


    He was already doubled over, clutching his nose as blood visibly trickled between his fingers.


    Gasps of shock echoed through the room.


    Harry flexed his fingers, but the grin on his face only grew wider. "I have some advice for you too, I don''t like people talking about me. And I definitely don¡¯t waste time arguing with people weaker than me. Got it, weakling?"


    "You, you dare?!" Draco groaned in pain, still holding his nose. "Crabbe, Goyle, get them!"


    Draco¡¯s two bulky lackeys seemed to snap out of their daze after witnessing their leader getting punched. One of them reached out to grab Harry.


    However, the moment his eyes met Harry¡¯s, his body froze.


    The next second, Harry grabbed the boy¡¯s wrist and yanked him forward. As his body stumbled ahead, Harry rammed his shoulder into the boy¡¯s chest while simultaneously hooking a foot behind his calf.


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    "THUD!"


    The stocky boy, who was nearly twice Harry¡¯s weight, crashed to the floor. If Draco hadn¡¯t dodged quickly, he would have been flattened beneath him.


    "No way, no way! With skills like that, you still think you can pick fights?" Harry spread his hands mockingly, looking from the stunned Draco to the other lackey, who stood frozen in fear, clearly hesitating to take a step forward.


    "You, you just wait! This isn¡¯t over!" Draco stammered, terror flashing in his eyes as he saw Harry advancing toward him. He grabbed his groaning, incapacitated friend and bolted toward another carriage in the distance.


    By now, a crowd of twenty or thirty students had gathered to watch. Most of them looked astonished, while some of the girls were staring at Harry with eyes practically burning with excitement.


    Harry turned to the onlookers and flashed a friendly smile.


    "Hello, everyone. I¡¯m Potter, Harry Potter. Some of you may have heard my name, while others haven¡¯t, but that doesn¡¯t matter. We have an entire school year to get to know each other, and I hope it¡¯ll be a pleasant one. Now, if you don¡¯t mind, I think I need a little rest.¡±


    After saying that, Harry nodded again, returned to the compartment, and closed the door behind him.


    "You... how could you hit someone?" Hermione finally reacted, staring at him in shock.


    "That was brilliant, Harry!" Ron¡¯s eyes were shining. At that moment, in his mind, Harry had become as impressive as Alberta Toothill or Samson Wiblin, both wizards known for their dueling prowess and legendary status.


    Neville furrowed his brows but remained silent.


    Harry grinned at Ron before turning to Hermione. "Didn''t I tell you before that I¡¯d find an opportunity to beat him up? Now that he showed up, I had to do it."


    Hermione: "...¡±


    When Harry said that, she suddenly remembered that earlier, when they had been discussing Voldemort, Draco had indeed butted in with an arrogant and condescending attitude.


    She had been furious at the time, and when Harry had mentioned finding an opportunity to punch him, she had nodded?


    But she hadn¡¯t actually expected Harry to go through with it.


    For a moment, silence filled the compartment.


    Then, out of nowhere, Neville clapped his hands and laughed. "Haha! I get it, Harry, you¡¯re laughing because Malfoy¡¯s two friends didn¡¯t look too good after that fight."


    Harry: "..."


    Ron: "..."


    Hermione: "..."


    Ron immediately started questioning Harry about how he had gotten so strong. Though Hermione pretended not to care, Harry noticed her little ears twitch slightly beneath her hair, clearly, she was listening intently.


    Harry chuckled and made something up.


    In truth, he had picked up a few hand-to-hand combat tricks from Dudley, who practiced boxing and mixed martial arts. Harry had found it interesting and learned a bit, though he had never actually put it to use.


    Defeating someone like Draco was no problem, but handling the two stocky boys was another matter.


    The real reason Harry had dealt with them so easily was that he had used a little mental magic in the process.


    The fear technique worked simply by making eye contact, causing the target to feel an inexplicable sense of dread. This fear effect was controllable, Harry wasn¡¯t using it at full strength, so it wouldn¡¯t make anyone go berserk. It usually just made people freeze in place or weaken their legs momentarily.


    That was enough. When your opponent¡¯s limbs were weak and their mind was foggy, knocking them down was incredibly easy.


    Luckily, the stocky boy hadn¡¯t been as massive as Dudley. Otherwise, even if he had been dazed for a second, Harry might not have been able to knock him down purely because of his weight.


    "Speaking of which, my dear cousin should be starting at a new school right about now, shouldn¡¯t he? I wonder how that¡¯s going for him." Harry mused.


    As the conversation continued, the sky gradually darkened. At some point, Ron¡¯s twin brothers, Fred and George, barged into the compartment, chattering excitedly and spouting all sorts of nonsense, leaving Harry feeling slightly dizzy.


    One thing he did learn, though, was that the small cloth pouch Hagrid had given him for storing gold coins had actually been made by the twins.


    After goofing around for a while, the twins dashed off to find their next source of entertainment.


    Harry glanced at his watch, only to realize it had stopped at some point.


    "As expected..." He wasn¡¯t surprised in the slightest. This was an electronic watch from Japan, and the quality was excellent. But that wasn¡¯t the issue, Harry had read in a book that electronic devices wouldn¡¯t work at Hogwarts. He had brought the watch along just to test that theory.


    And sure enough, it had stopped working.


    So, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a mechanical watch. It was already 5:30 PM. If the book was correct and the train wasn¡¯t delayed, they would be arriving in about thirty minutes.


    "I think we should put on our robes now," Hermione said after checking the time. The other three nodded, and the boys were promptly kicked out of the compartment.


    Harry, standing by the door, pursed his lips. "Seriously? All this fuss just to change into robes?"


    When the boys were finally allowed back in, Harry noticed that Ron¡¯s school robes were quite old, while only Neville¡¯s shirt looked new.


    "The Weasleys¡¯ financial situation must be really tough." he thought.


    After they had all changed and chatted for a while, a voice echoed throughout the train:


    "We will arrive at Hogwarts in five minutes. Students, please leave your luggage on the train. It will be brought to the school for you.¡±


    Harry noticed there were no speakers or microphones anywhere. That meant the voice had to be transmitted by magic.


    He was familiar with an Amplification Charm, which could make a voice incredibly loud. But this was different, the volume wasn¡¯t overwhelming, yet every student on the train could hear it perfectly.


    The train gradually slowed down, and a faint sense of nervousness settled in Harry¡¯s chest.


    However, glancing at the three friends around him, who looked even more nervous than he did, his own nerves faded away.


    Outside the window, the world was pitch dark. Finally, the train came to a complete stop.


    Harry knew, they had arrived at Hogwarts.


    ----


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 Chapter 16

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    It was only just before getting off the bus that Harry discovered Ron¡¯s pet was actually a rat.


    The British might have a habit of keeping unusual pets, but a rat? Were they rare? Of course not. But why would anyone consider having one as a pet?


    Harry couldn¡¯t understand it.


    If he had been feeling a little nervous when stepping off the bus, his anxiety immediately eased when he spotted Hagrid. Towering over the crowd, he stood out with a massive lantern in hand, smiling warmly at them.


    "First years! First years, over here!" Hagrid called out in a booming voice. He didn¡¯t need magic to amplify it, his sheer size alone gave him an unusually loud voice.


    "Wow, is that Hagrid?" Ron, walking alongside Harry, couldn¡¯t help but exclaim.


    Among their peers, Ron was certainly one of the tallest. He was nearly as tall as his twin brothers, who were two years older. Yet, standing next to Hagrid, he barely reached his waist.


    Hermione and Neville looked equally astonished.


    "Hagrid, it¡¯s great to see you!" Harry said cheerfully as they reached him.


    "Ah, Harry! Great to see you too," Hagrid replied with a broad grin. His smile was described as "great" not only because it was wide but also because his face was simply enormous.


    "Hang on a moment, I need to count. I remember there should be forty of you... Hmm..." Hagrid seemed to struggle with numbers. He extended his thick fingers and began patting the students on their heads, counting them one by one.


    After going over them three times, Harry noticed Hagrid counting again, just to be sure. Finally, satisfied that all forty first-years were gathered, Hagrid nodded and called toward the train, "Professor Quirrell, sorry to trouble you! Thanks for your help!"


    A faint response came from the train, but the voice was so soft that Harry couldn¡¯t make out the words.


    By then, Hagrid had already led the first-years to the edge of a vast body of water.


    It was an enormous lake, its surface dark and slightly eerie in the nighttime. They now stood at a small dock where over a dozen tiny boats were moored.


    Hagrid took a moment to double-check the number of students before organizing them into the boats. "No more than four in each boat! Less is fine, but not more! Everyone, pay attention!"


    The students responded half-heartedly, but Hagrid didn¡¯t seem to mind.


    Once he was certain everything was in order, he helped the students board. When all the first-years were seated, he climbed into an especially large boat with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville, who had been waiting near him.


    Ron and Hermione were no longer focused on Hagrid¡¯s towering height or massive frame. Like Harry, they were completely captivated by the breathtaking sight before them, the majestic castle looming on the hillside across the lake.


    The castle was adorned with numerous spires. Through its grand windows and doors, warm lights twinkled beneath the starry sky, giving it a dreamlike appearance.


    "Is that Hogwarts?" Harry whispered in awe. He had imagined the school countless times, but seeing it in person was something else entirely.


    Even the grandest buildings at Oxford University would pale in comparison.


    The boats began moving slowly at first, then gradually picked up speed.


    Harry once again marveled at the wonders of magic. He and Dudley had gone rowing once in a park, and he knew how difficult it was to propel a boat forward.


    Given the physical strength of the first-years in the other boats, he highly doubted they could row so smoothly and at such an even pace. The only explanation? Magic!


    "This is amazing!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes fixed on the towering castle in the distance.


    "Hagrid, why do we have to take boats?" Ron asked. Now that he had realized Hagrid, despite his size, was approachable, he felt comfortable striking up a conversation. With nothing else to do during the boat ride, curiosity got the better of him.


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    Out in the middle of the vast lake, the dark waters that had merely seemed eerie before now felt truly terrifying. If it weren¡¯t for the presence of so many boats, and, of course, Hagrid, whose mere presence felt reassuring, Ron suspected he might have been genuinely frightened.


    "I know why," Hermione spoke up before Hagrid could answer.


    "It¡¯s because the four founders of the school first arrived at Hogwarts by boat. So, to honor that tradition, first-years always cross the lake this way on their first night. I read it in Hogwarts: A History."


    "Brilliant!" Hagrid exclaimed. "It¡¯s rare to see a first-year who knows so much already."


    Hermione tried to act as though the compliment didn¡¯t affect her, but the slight upward curve of her lips gave her away.


    The closer the boat came to the castle, the larger and more imposing it seemed. As they neared the steep hillside where the castle stood, it looked as though it was rising straight into the sky!


    Harry was about to say something when he suddenly felt a strange sensation wash over him, a brief, invisible pressure passing through his body. He could sense something, just for a moment, but as far as his eyes could see, there was nothing unusual.


    "What was that?" Harry was taken aback.


    "What¡¯s wrong, Harry?" Ron asked, noticing the shift in his expression.


    "Nothing, just a bit of a chill!" Harry made up an excuse.


    "It¡¯s a little cold on the water, but you¡¯ll be fine once we get to the castle!" Hagrid said with a reassuring smile.


    Harry nodded in response and adjusted his glasses, though he wasn¡¯t entirely aware he was doing it. At that moment, a jolt ran through his mind. His body had felt, however faintly, as if it had passed through something.


    It was like static electricity!


    However, after five years of using meditation to enhance his magical and mental abilities, Harry was certain, his mental power had fluctuated just then.


    A magical barrier.


    The term sprang to his mind. In Aegean, where Neil had lived in his past life, magical barriers were an essential defense in nearly every city. And in his memories, there was a similar sensation when crossing the edge of such a barrier.


    Furthermore, after passing through it, Harry felt as though the air had become noticeably more humid, wrapping around him in a way that was both comforting and soothing.


    The boat had advanced only three to five meters, surely that wasn¡¯t enough to account for such a drastic change in air quality. Yet it wasn¡¯t just his body that felt different. The space between his eyebrows, where his mental power was concentrated, his sea of consciousness, felt particularly relaxed.


    It was the same feeling of relief and satisfaction that comes after enduring thirst for too long and then suddenly drinking a large, refreshing glass of water.


    It could only mean one thing, the concentration of magical energy in the air had increased significantly.


    After crossing the barrier, the magic in the surrounding environment had become far more abundant. Though it was still nowhere near the level of Aegean in Neil¡¯s memories, it was considerably stronger than before.


    How fascinating.


    So, even though Earth was considered a low-magic plane, were there still places where magical energy gathered? Or had someone found a way to concentrate magic in certain areas?


    Harry wasn¡¯t sure which possibility was more likely, but before he could think further, the boat glided past a curtain of ivy and entered an open passage. A dark tunnel lay ahead, leading them to what appeared to be a dock.


    At the end of the dock was a cobblestone path disappearing into another tunnel.


    "Thank Merlin¡­" Neville murmured in relief as he stepped onto solid ground for the first time. He had been trembling with fear the entire boat ride, worried the vessel might capsize.


    Thankfully, it hadn¡¯t.


    "As a wizard, I should be thanking Merlin," Ron joked.


    Led by Hagrid, the group of young wizards made their way through the dim tunnel. Suddenly, the space ahead opened up into a vast clearing, and before them stood the towering Hogwarts Castle.


    They climbed the stone steps, following Hagrid, until they reached an enormous oak door.


    Hagrid was already an impressively tall man, yet compared to the massive doors before them, he seemed almost small and graceful. Harry couldn¡¯t help but wonder "Were these doors built for giants?"


    If wizards existed, then it wouldn¡¯t be unreasonable for giants to exist as well.


    Hagrid raised his massive fist and knocked three times.


    The door swung open immediately.


    Despite its size, the enormous wooden door opened with astonishing ease, gliding soundlessly yet swiftly.


    Standing within the doorway was a tall woman.


    She wore emerald-green robes embroidered with delicate golden thread at the cuffs and hem. Silver threads traced faint patterns of stars and moons across the fabric. A pointed black hat sat atop her head.


    Her attire was undeniably magical.


    She was clearly an older woman, but her face made it difficult to determine her exact age. Though she was thin, her skin remained remarkably smooth and firm. The only true indicator of her years was her eyes.


    Harry had never seen eyes like hers, deep and calm, like a vast, unfathomable lake. Even behind her glasses, their piercing gaze remained undiminished. Paired with her composed and serious expression, she radiated an aura of wisdom and authority.


    "Good evening, Professor McGonagall!" Hagrid greeted her politely. "I¡¯ve brought all the first-years."


    "Thank you for your hard work, Hagrid," Professor McGonagall replied with a small smile.


    It seemed she wasn¡¯t someone who smiled often, and even now, the expression looked slightly unfamiliar on her face. Still, though her voice remained cool and composed, the softening of her eyes betrayed the warmth behind her words.


    "I¡¯ll take it from here," she said simply.


    As she lifted a hand, the enormous door opened even wider. Harry was fairly certain it was now large enough for a battleship to pass through.


    His curiosity got the better of him as he glanced around. The entrance hall was illuminated by flaming torches, their light flickering against the stone walls. The ceiling was so high he could barely make it out. At the far end of the hall, a grand marble staircase led up to the next floor.


    "Welcome, everyone," the woman spoke again. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, though you may call me Professor McGonagall. You should have already seen my name in your acceptance letters."


    Her gaze swept over the gathered first-years, and she offered another faint smile. This time, she spoke more slowly, her tone softer.


    "I am the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. It is my pleasure to welcome you all to the school.¡±


    ----


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 Chapter 17

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    Ignoring the whispers among the young wizards, Professor McGonagall continued speaking.


    Her voice wasn¡¯t loud, but even with many students murmuring, it carried clearly to their ears.


    "The welcoming feast is about to begin. No matter which house you are placed in, I hope you will bring honor to it."


    "In a few minutes, the Sorting Ceremony will take place in front of the entire school. I suggest you straighten up and stay alert while you wait."


    A sudden rustle of voices rose from the group. Harry and Ron quickly checked each other to make sure their hair wasn¡¯t messy and their robes were in order. A few witches even took out small mirrors.


    The legendary Sorting Ceremony was about to begin, and even Hermione, who always acted as if she knew everything and was fully prepared, seemed a little nervous now.


    In contrast, Draco Malfoy, standing a little farther away and glaring at Harry and the others, showed no sign of nervousness. His anger toward Harry consumed his thoughts.


    Still, it was clear he had no intention of picking another fight. His nose was still sore.


    As the students waited, about twenty ghosts suddenly drifted into the hall. Many first-years jumped in surprise as the spirits emerged straight through the walls. However, before they could interact with the ghosts, Professor McGonagall returned.


    "First-years, form a line and follow me. Move along," she instructed, leading them through the entrance hall, down a short corridor, and through a set of double doors into a grand, magnificent hall.


    Harry had never seen a place so breathtakingly magical.


    The vast hall contained four long tables, where the older students were already seated. Judging by the emblems on their robes, they were sitting according to their houses.


    Instead of resting on the tables, the candles floated above them, casting a warm, bright light throughout the room.


    The tables were set with gleaming golden plates and goblets, but no food had been served yet.


    At the far end of the hall, a raised platform held the staff¡¯s long table. Harry¡¯s eyes immediately locked onto an elderly wizard with a long white beard and hair, seated in the center. He recognized him at once, Albus Dumbledore.


    Behind him, Hermione murmured, "It''s just like the book said, the ceiling looks like the sky."


    Harry glanced up and saw the vast, starry night above them. He was so distracted that he didn¡¯t notice the person in front of him had stopped.


    He bumped straight into Ron.


    Ron stumbled sideways, colliding with a girl ahead of him.


    "Ah!" She gasped.


    "Oh, sorry," Ron apologized quickly.


    "It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s fine," the girl replied softly, turning her head slightly to look at him.


    Ron seemed about to say something when a voice suddenly began to sing.


    At the front of the hall, placed on a tall four-legged stool near the staff table, sat an old, tattered, and pointed wizard¡¯s hat. Its wide brim had opened like a mouth, and it was singing.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Harry didn¡¯t think the song was particularly good, but the older students clapped cheerfully, prompting the new students to follow suit. He had no choice but to clap along.


    The hat gave a proud bow to the crowd before falling silent.


    "So¡­ the famous Sorting Ceremony is just wearing this hat?" Ron whispered, his eyes widening in disbelief.


    He scanned the older students, searching for his two traitorous brothers.


    "I¡¯m going to kill Fred and George. They made it sound like we''d have to fight a troll."


    Harry exhaled in relief. He had been a little anxious, after all, Hermione had put a lot of pressure on them. On the train, they discovered she had memorized almost every spell from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.


    Harry, on the other hand, could only recall a handful of spells he had successfully performed, which made a significant difference.


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    If the Sorting Ceremony had involved reciting spells from memory, he would have been in trouble. However, he doubted that was the case. After all, Ron and Neville, both from wizarding families, didn¡¯t seem to know many spells either.


    Well, Ron knew at least one.


    Just before they got off the train, Ron had tried to show them a color-changing rat spell. But the magic hadn¡¯t worked. Truthfully, Harry had his doubts about whether the spell was even real.


    Lost in thought, he barely noticed Professor McGonagall stepping forward with a scroll in her hands.


    "When I call your name, step forward, put on the hat, sit on the stool, and wait for your house to be chosen," she announced.


    Then, she read the first name:


    "Hannah Abbott!"


    A blonde girl walked up, placed the hat on her head, and, after a brief pause, the Sorting Hat called out, "Hufflepuff!"


    Cheers erupted from the table on the right, where the Hufflepuff students sat. Just as Harry had guessed, the students were sorted into houses one by one.


    Next came another Hufflepuff, followed by a boy sorted into Ravenclaw.


    Then.


    "Lavender Brown!"


    A round-faced girl with wide eyes stepped forward. It was the same girl Ron had bumped into earlier.


    The Sorting Hat barely hesitated before announcing, "Gryffindor!¡±


    The first new Gryffindor of the night had been chosen.


    Applause erupted from the long table on the far left. Harry turned toward the noise and spotted Fred and George Weasley standing on their seats, one of them even twirling his hips in a ridiculous dance.


    Beside them, another red-haired boy, likely the third brother Percy, whom Ron had mentioned earlier, was attempting to pull the dancing clown back down to his seat. But he wasn¡¯t having much success. It seemed like he was about to yank down one of the twins¡¯ trousers, yet the twin in question was holding onto his waistband with one hand while still twisting his waist.


    Rather than being annoyed, the students around them looked thoroughly entertained.


    "Well, this is interesting." Harry''s eyes sparkled.


    Until now, he hadn¡¯t been sure which house he wanted to be in. But one thing was clear, he definitely didn¡¯t want to be in Slytherin. He already disliked Malfoy, and Ron had told him that the Malfoy family had been in Slytherin for generations. On top of that, Slytherins were known for their obsession with blood purity and their reputation for producing dark wizards.


    "Well, now I know where I want to go. Yes, Ravenclaw! Those Gryffindors are way too noisy." thought Harry.


    The first of the four to be called was Hermione. The Sorting Hat hesitated slightly longer than it had for the others, but soon enough, it declared her a Gryffindor.


    A little later, Neville was sorted into Gryffindor as well. His expression at that moment was pure shock. On the train, he had been convinced that he would either be a Hufflepuff or get kicked out of Hogwarts entirely.


    Among the new students, the ones who had caught Harry¡¯s attention the most after stepping off the train were a pair of identical twin sisters, probably of Indian descent.


    For some reason, seeing them felt like a turning point in Harry¡¯s life. Maybe it was Cleona¡¯s influence, though only eleven, he was starting to take an interest in girls. Just a little.


    The twins were undeniably beautiful, and Harry wasn¡¯t the only one who had noticed. Many of the boys were sneaking glances at them.


    Surprisingly, they weren¡¯t sorted into the same house. The older sister went to Gryffindor, while the younger one was placed in Ravenclaw.


    "That¡¯s pretty rare," Ron whispered to Harry. He had noticed the twins as well. "It¡¯s not common to see twins at Hogwarts, but from what Bill and the others told me, they usually end up in the same house."


    Harry nodded. Ron¡¯s older brother, Bill, worked at Gringotts in Egypt, or at least, that¡¯s what Ron had told him. Harry imagined him as some kind of bank manager.


    Ron had also mentioned a second brother, Charlie, who was studying dragons in Romania. Harry pictured him as a Viking.


    Adding Percy, the overly serious one, and the mischievous twins, Harry couldn¡¯t help but be amazed at the kind of household Ron had grown up in.


    Harry¡¯s thoughts were interrupted when Professor McGonagall called his name.


    The entire hall fell silent for a moment before whispers broke out across the room.


    "Is that him?"


    "That¡¯s Harry Potter? The real one?"


    "I heard Potter wasn¡¯t a boy."


    "The famous Harry Potter looks like a little girl."


    The last comment came from a curly-haired boy, and Harry turned to look at him. The boy was also a first-year, but Harry didn¡¯t remember his name. He was sitting at the Hufflepuff table, scrutinizing Harry with curious eyes.


    I¡¯ll remember you. Harry muttered to himself as he stepped forward.


    When he reached Professor McGonagall, the stern-looking woman gave him a small smile. It was just enough to ease the slight nervousness caused by the murmuring around him.


    Sitting on the stool, he felt the weight of the Sorting Hat being placed on his head.


    "Eh?"


    A subtle voice spoke, not aloud, but directly into his mind.


    "What an interesting child¡­ Smart, courageous, and kind-hearted. But you seem rather restless..."


    Harry felt a strange sensation, as if something was probing his mind.


    This feels like Legilimency, mind reading!


    Harry knew about it from his studies of ancient magic. It was a form of mental magic that allowed wizards to peer into someone¡¯s thoughts and memories. He hadn¡¯t mastered it yet, but he knew how to counter it.


    Almost instinctively, Harry constructed an image in his mind, something he had learned to do during meditation.


    The best way to resist mind intrusion was to focus. That was the fundamental technique for defending against most forms of mental magic. Of course, if the opponent¡¯s mental strength was significantly greater, no amount of focus would help.


    In that case, you had two options:


    Surrender and let them read you.


    Fight back, though that usually wasn¡¯t possible.


    Or, well stab them with a knife.


    Luckily, the Sorting Hat didn¡¯t seem to possess overwhelming mental strength. As soon as Harry concentrated, the piercing sensation vanished.


    "Oh?" The Sorting Hat sounded intrigued. "That¡¯s an unexpected talent. But now, where should I place you? This is a tricky one. Slytherin would be a good fit, or..."


    "Not Slytherin!" Harry interrupted immediately. He had no intention of being in the same house as that arrogant boy.


    Ravenclaw was his preference.


    Even though Neville and Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor, after seeing the chaos caused by the Weasley twins, Harry wasn¡¯t sure that Gryffindor was the right choice for him.


    However, before he could finish saying "I want to be in Ravenclaw," the Sorting Hat made its decision.


    "Not Slytherin? Alright then, Gryffindor!¡±


    The Hall Erupts.


    "We got Harry!"


    Cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table.


    Harry, stunned, had only one thought.


    "Damn it!"


    He had tried to outpace the Sorting Hat, but the hat had won.


    ----


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 Chapter 18

    [Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    People often say that those with mental illnesses have broader ideas and are more cheerful than children.


    There were probably no mentally ill students in Gryffindor, but there were certainly some amusing ones. As Harry walked toward them, excitement spread through the group, and their faces turned red with enthusiasm. He was moments away from breaking into a dance like Fred and George.


    Even Percy, the most serious of Ron¡¯s older brothers, eagerly extended his hand when he saw Harry approaching. Once again, Harry was forced to shake hands with a large crowd of people.


    To be honest, Gryffindor was definitely not the worst choice. At least in Harry¡¯s opinion, it was far better than Slytherin, and perhaps even better than Hufflepuff. However, if given a choice, Harry would have much rather been placed in Ravenclaw.


    There were two reasons for this. The first was that Gryffindor was incredibly loud, especially with the Weasley twins constantly nearby. They were so noisy that Harry often felt the urge to cover his ears.


    As for the second reason, well, it was a little harder to admit. From what he had observed, Ravenclaw seemed to have more girls than the other houses. And some of them were quite pretty.


    Any lingering resentment Harry had toward Gryffindor quickly faded once Ron was sorted into the house.


    After all, Harry had enjoyed spending time with the three of them on the train. Since the four of them were destined to be together and had all been placed in Gryffindor, that in itself was something to be happy about.


    An amusing moment occurred when the Sorting Hat was placed on Ron¡¯s head. He had been muttering something under his breath, though it was unclear exactly what. However, the hat had barely touched his head before it shouted, ¡°Gryffindor!¡±


    Harry noticed the visible relief on Ron¡¯s face. He guessed Ron had probably been repeating to himself, ¡°I want Gryffindor, I want Gryffindor.¡±


    The thought made Harry chuckle.


    When Ron reached the Gryffindor table, his serious older brother, Percy, proudly announced to those around him, ¡°That¡¯s my brother, my younger brother. Another Weasley in Gryffindor!¡±


    Once the last student had been sorted into Slytherin, Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll in her hands, picked up the Sorting Hat, and left the center of the Great Hall.


    Harry, meanwhile, had already started eyeing the elegant tableware in front of him. The nervousness he had felt earlier had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming hunger. Despite having eaten plenty at lunchtime and snacked throughout the day, he was still ravenous.


    At that moment, Professor Albus Dumbledore stood up at the center of the faculty table.


    Unlike the serious depictions of wizards in books and portraits, Dumbledore, the real Dumbledore, wore a constant smile. This was quite different from the impression Harry had of Neil.


    Harry wasn¡¯t sure if Neil had always been naturally intimidating or if he had just appeared that way when trying to take over his body.


    Either way, in Harry¡¯s mind, Neil seemed like a stern old man, whereas Dumbledore appeared to be a kindly, smiling grandfather figure.


    Between his odd glasses and that slightly crooked nose, Dumbledore¡¯s presence even helped ease some of the lingering fear Harry had toward Neil.


    At first, Harry had expected Dumbledore to give a long, boring speech, something he was used to from his primary school principal, who did so every year when new students arrived.


    But to his surprise, Dumbledore¡¯s speech was remarkably brief. In fact, it ended with a bizarre and nonsensical phrase: ¡°Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!¡±


    As applause erupted around him, Harry turned cautiously to Percy and asked, ¡°Is Dumbledore a little¡­?¡± He twirled his finger near his temple, making a gesture to suggest something was off.


    Unfortunately, it seemed that the wizarding world didn¡¯t recognize that particular gesture, as Percy only looked confused.


    Lowering his voice, Harry tried again: ¡°Is he a bit mad?¡±


    Percy let out a small chuckle, then replied in a hushed voice, ¡°Mad? No, he¡¯s a genius. One of the greatest wizards in the world, maybe the greatest. You see, ordinary people can never truly understand how a genius thinks. But¡­ you¡¯re not entirely wrong. He can be a bit mad sometimes. Actually, he¡¯s probably like that most of the time.¡±


    Harry blinked in surprise. It seemed that the legendary figure known as the Light of British Magic was not quite as he had imagined.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    But before he could dwell on the thought, something changed at the table before him.


    Moments ago, the plates had been empty. Now, they were piled high with food. And not just any food, extraordinary food.


    The dishes before him weren¡¯t merely delicious, they were accompanied by desserts, too.


    Back at the Dursleys'', the food had always been quite good, Aunt Petunia fancied herself a bit of a gourmet, though Harry personally thought her cooking was only mediocre. At the very least, he believed it was far inferior to what was served at the Leaky Cauldron.


    Of course, even the Leaky Cauldron couldn¡¯t compare to the high-end restaurants Harry had occasionally been taken to. After Uncle Vernon¡¯s salary had increased significantly, the family had begun dining at upscale establishments from time to time, and Harry had even eaten at Michelin-starred restaurants.


    And yet, even those meals seemed to pale in comparison to the feast now laid out before him.


    Harry, whose stomach was already protesting, naturally didn''t care about anything else at that moment. He grabbed the nearest pieces of sausage and stuffed them into his mouth. However, as soon as he did, he realized that such behavior wasn¡¯t exactly refined for a wizard.


    But that thought quickly faded when he noticed that Percy, sitting beside him, had casually picked up a grilled lamb chop with his hands, pulled it apart, and taken a large bite.


    Well, it seemed that wizards didn¡¯t care much about fancy things like table etiquette.


    Had Harry''s eyesight been better, he might have noticed the Slytherin students dining elegantly at the long table across the Great Hall. If he had, he probably would have felt some internal conflict about whether wizards should pay attention to etiquette at all.


    Of course, even if such a contradiction had arisen, it likely wouldn¡¯t have changed Harry¡¯s eating habits.


    During the meal, Harry met Gryffindor¡¯s house ghost, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.


    As the knight demonstrated why he was called Nearly Headless Nick, Harry was in the middle of chewing a bite of foie gras. Watching the ghost¡¯s translucent body and the way his severed neck wriggled, Harry suddenly felt that the once-delicious foie gras in his mouth had lost all its appeal.


    All around the Great Hall, young witches and wizards ate and chatted happily. At least a third of the students in the entire hall, however, kept stealing glances at Harry.


    Harry had grown used to being stared at since he was six or seven years old, though back then, it had been because of his appearance. Perhaps that was still part of the reason now. Either way, he had long since become accustomed to it, so it didn¡¯t bother him much. He could still eat as much as he wanted.


    As he reached about sixty percent fullness and started slowing down, Harry began glancing around the room, particularly toward the staff table.


    Beside him, Hermione was deep in discussion with Percy about Transfiguration. Harry had skimmed the Transfiguration textbook but had found it somewhat dull, so he hadn¡¯t paid much attention to it. As a result, he didn¡¯t really understand what they were discussing and quickly lost interest. His eyes wandered back to the faculty seats.


    There were several figures at the table that immediately caught Harry¡¯s attention.


    Aside from Dumbledore, who sat at the center, the most noticeable was Hagrid, seated at the far end due to his enormous size.


    Another point of interest was the empty seat beside Dumbledore, where Professor McGonagall was currently heading.


    And then, on the opposite side of the table, there was.


    A dwarf? A goblin? Or something else?


    There was a remarkably short wizard engaged in conversation with a slightly plump witch beside him, occasionally laughing.


    Beyond them, however, another group of professors caught Harry¡¯s attention.


    Three of them stood out in particular.


    One looked as if he had just returned from outside. He was thin and pale, wearing a thick robe, a scarf, and even a large headwrap, almost resembling the attire of certain religious figures.


    Next to him sat a strikingly beautiful professor. However, she didn¡¯t seem particularly sociable. She kept her head lowered and ate elegantly, avoiding conversation with the others.


    And then, on the other side of the turbaned man, was another professor.


    This one had sallow skin and shoulder-length black hair, hair that clearly hadn¡¯t been washed for quite some time. Even from a distance, Harry could tell it was oily.


    Harry felt a bit nauseated.


    The greasy-haired professor was speaking to the turbaned man when his gaze suddenly shifted toward Harry.


    The man in the turban turned as well, seeming to say something in a hurried, anxious manner. He gestured animatedly, looking somewhat flustered.


    The greasy-haired man¡¯s cold, emotionless eyes scanned the Gryffindor table before settling on Harry.


    His expression was stiff, almost frozen. His eyes, dark and lifeless like shards of black glass, held an eerie stillness. But when they landed on Harry¡¯s face, his facial muscles twitched ever so slightly.


    That confirmed to Harry that the man didn¡¯t suffer from facial paralysis or anything of the sort.


    Even so, his gaze made Harry deeply uncomfortable.


    At first, his eyes had seemed utterly vacant, but the moment they locked onto Harry, something flickered to life within them, an emotion too complex for Harry to decipher.


    Harry had never been particularly good at reading people¡¯s expressions. However, if he was close enough, and if the emotions were strong enough, he could sometimes sense them. But deciphering someone''s thoughts just by looking at their face or eyes? That wasn¡¯t one of his abilities.


    Still, there was something unsettling about the way the greasy-haired man was staring at him.


    And then, without warning.


    A dull pain flared in his forehead. Or, more precisely, in his scar.


    Though the pain was faint, it was enough to irritate him. He frowned slightly and muttered under his breath toward the greasy-haired professor:


    ¡°Take a picture, it¡¯ll last longer.¡±


    The professor''s expression changed abruptly. Clearly, he had understood Harry¡¯s lip movements.


    But just as suddenly as his face had tensed, he schooled his features back into a near-expressionless state. At the same time, he raised a hand, gesturing for the turbaned man to stop talking.


    The man in the turban seemed relieved and turned back to his meal.


    And oddly enough, the moment the greasy-haired man looked away, Harry¡¯s scar stopped hurting.


    "What¡¯s going on?"


    Harry frowned in confusion. He nudged Percy, who was still engaged in an intense discussion with Hermione.


    "Percy... Head Boy, who¡¯s that professor with the black hair?"


    At the mention of Head Boy, Percy immediately brightened and beamed proudly.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s Professor Snape¡­¡±


    ----


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 Chapter 19

    [Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    Harry was extremely curious about the fourth-floor corridor and the Forbidden Forest, both of which Dumbledore had strictly forbidden students from visiting.


    The more adults forbade children from going somewhere, the more they wanted to go. It was the Pandora Effect, Harry had heard that term in a movie. The feast wasn¡¯t over yet, but he was already wondering whether he should visit the Forbidden Forest or the fourth-floor corridor first.


    The final part of the banquet was the school song, which everyone sang together.


    Harry had sung many school songs during his time in primary school, so he was quite familiar with the idea. Usually, both the lyrics and melody of a school song weren¡¯t too complicated.


    But Hogwarts¡¯ school song? That was something else entirely.


    There were lyrics, but no set melody!


    Each student sang in their own tune, creating a cacophony even louder than the arguments between politicians in movies. But Professor Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of their time, didn¡¯t seem to mind at all. In fact, he looked delighted.


    Harry once again witnessed just how strange his two peculiar brothers, Fred and George, were, as Ron had described them. They sang the usually cheerful lyrics agonizingly slowly, using the tune of a funeral march.


    Since their pace was so slow, they were the last to finish.


    Dumbledore, just as odd in Harry¡¯s eyes, conducted their final notes and clapped enthusiastically when they were done, looking happier than anyone else.


    The greatest wizard of the century? Maybe.


    The greatest oddball in the wizarding world? Probably.


    After the feast, Dumbledore instructed the house prefects to lead the students to their respective common rooms.


    On the train ride to Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione had explained the prefect system to each other. Prefects were part of Hogwarts¡¯ student self-governance. Starting from fifth year, each house selected two prefects, one male and one female.


    With the exception of fifth-year students, prefects could request to step down from their duties, but few ever did. In fact, in the past century, fewer than ten students had given up their positions. After all, being a prefect didn¡¯t come with many burdens, but it did come with privileges.


    At most, each house could have six prefects at a time, meaning there were twenty-four prefects in the entire school.


    Among them, the most active, without a doubt, was Percy Weasley, who had just been appointed as a prefect that year. His voice was the loudest as he led the first-years to their common room, following Dumbledore¡¯s instructions.


    As for the older students, many of them wanted to linger outside a little longer. Compared to the exhausted first-years, who had crossed the lake in boats and then walked all the way up to the castle, the older students were full of energy.


    It was worth noting that Ron only knew about prefects because Percy wouldn¡¯t stop talking about it all summer. Percy had received his Hogwarts letter during the holidays, informing him that he had been made a prefect. Ever since then, he had boasted about it constantly at home.


    Harry found it amusing to watch Percy rush around, especially as he greeted every new student with exaggerated enthusiasm. Percy might have been a bit showy, maybe even power-hungry, but judging by his actions, he was indeed a capable prefect.


    And from watching him, Harry also learned something new: Peeves, the mischievous poltergeist, seemed to fear the Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin House. As for why, Harry would have to find out later.


    There was something else that puzzled him. Other ghosts could pass through walls or suddenly emerge from the banquet table, especially Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor ghost, who delighted in such antics. But none of them seemed to have any physical effect on real objects.


    Yet when Peeves had zoomed down the corridor, the suits of armor lining the walls rattled loudly.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Access to the common room required a password, which changed at least once a week, sometimes every two or three days.


    Harry and the others thought they could handle that, but when Neville heard it, his face fell.


    On the train, Harry had noticed that Neville wasn¡¯t just shy, his memory was terrible. He struggled to remember things, even simple names.


    For example, he only remembered Hermione¡¯s name after she repeated it three times.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The Gryffindor common room was a large, warm, circular space. It was filled with plush armchairs and small tables, creating a cozy atmosphere. Two doors on opposite sides led to the boys¡¯ and girls¡¯ dormitories.


    The warmth of the room made Harry drowsy. He had planned to explore a bit more, but now, exhaustion was taking over.


    The other first-years were yawning as well.


    The dormitory was strange in many ways.


    After passing through the entrance, they climbed a spiral staircase leading straight to the dormitories. But something about it felt odd. Gryffindor had students across six different years. Even if each year only required two dormitories, one for boys and one for girls, that would still mean at least seven different dormitory areas.


    Yet when Harry climbed the stairs, it felt like he had somehow walked directly into his own dormitory.


    "Spatial magic?" Harry thought excitedly.


    In his memories, Neil had once read about Aegean magic, a field known for its diversity and complexity. Among the rarest and most bizarre types of magic were those related to space manipulation.


    But Harry already knew that this world had spatial magic. Ron had mentioned that Percy was preparing for his Apparition test. And based on the description, Apparition was clearly a form of spatial magic.


    It allowed a wizard to vanish from one place and reappear in another. However, since it was highly advanced and carried significant risks, wizards had to pass a rigorous exam and obtain a license before using it. Otherwise, it was illegal.


    By the time Harry returned to the common room, he was feeling completely sleepy.


    When Harry realized that the dormitory was truly enchanted with spatial magic, the kind Neil had considered the most bizarre and mystical, he suddenly felt less sleepy.


    There were only forty new students this year. Harry hadn¡¯t counted them himself, but Hagrid had announced the number multiple times in front of him. There were ten students in each of the four houses, evenly split between boys and girls.


    Gryffindor, where Harry and his friends were placed, had an equal division. In addition to Ron and Neville, whom they had met on the train, there were Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Both boys were excited, but they couldn¡¯t stop glancing at Harry¡¯s face, something Harry was already used to.


    The dormitory had a bathroom, and despite their exhaustion, the young wizards forced themselves to take a quick wash before collapsing onto their beds. They started snoring before they could even say goodnight.


    Harry, however, didn¡¯t fall asleep immediately, and it wasn¡¯t because of his roommates¡¯ snoring.


    Even though he had never lived on a school campus, he had attended summer camps multiple times and had experience sharing tents with other kids. Living in a large dormitory wasn¡¯t an issue for him.


    In fact, during summer holidays or other breaks, he and Dudley often stayed up all night playing, eventually falling asleep on the carpet, wrapped in blankets.


    Yet tonight, Harry couldn¡¯t sleep at all, his mind was preoccupied with the Sorting Hat.


    The Sorting Hat could read thoughts, something akin to telepathy. That realization made Harry uneasy.


    He was worried that the secret in his mind might cause problems. After all, having a consciousness from another world invade someone¡¯s mind and nearly take over their body had to be a rare occurrence, even in the wizarding world, right?


    If people found out that I have knowledge of magic from another world, would the Ministry of Magic capture me and study me?


    Both Hagrid and Ron had expressed frustrations with the Ministry of Magic. Based on Harry¡¯s impression so far, the Ministry wasn¡¯t exactly friendly.


    Harry knew one thing for sure, he couldn''t let anyone discover his secret.


    If this were the Muggle world, he could simply keep quiet, and no one would ever know. But in the wizarding world, things weren¡¯t that simple.


    That tattered old hat could peer into people¡¯s minds, and powerful wizards could do even more.


    Harry needed to find a way to protect his thoughts from prying eyes.


    Was there a way to do that?


    Yes, there was!


    In Neil¡¯s world, mental magic wasn¡¯t as common as elemental magic, like earth, water, fire, and wind, but it wasn¡¯t particularly rare either. In fact, Neil had been an expert in the field.


    Although Harry¡¯s fragmented memories didn¡¯t contain much high-level mental magic, he did remember a few simple, commonly used spells.


    For example, he hadn¡¯t mastered the art of mind reading, but he understood the basic principles. As long as he strengthened his mental power, he would eventually be able to use it.


    More importantly, he remembered a spell that could block people from reading his mind, a technique called Heart Lock Magic.


    It was actually simpler than mind-reading magic.


    Harry had no experience using it, but he had spent time among Muggles, where such skills weren¡¯t needed. Still, learning it shouldn¡¯t be too difficult.


    Compared to mind-reading, the mind-blocking technique required far less mental strength.


    Harry had started meditating when he was six or seven years old. He hadn¡¯t been very diligent about it, but over time, he had built up a decent amount of mental energy, enough to attempt the mind-blocking technique.


    Harry followed the method for Heart Lock Magic as he remembered it and began constructing a special symbol in his mind.


    Unlike ordinary meditation, this symbol was more complex.


    If he had tried this before, the old Harry wouldn¡¯t have been able to form the image clearly in his mind. But now? He could just barely manage it.


    A small golden orb of light gradually took shape in his mind. Slowly, it expanded.


    As it grew, the golden light transformed into a round, cage-like structure, shimmering with a metallic sheen.


    Under Harry¡¯s conscious control, the golden cage gradually expanded, stretching until it encompassed his entire field of vision as he closed his eyes and meditated.


    Only then did Harry release his focus.


    "It worked."


    Harry smiled in satisfaction, though his face showed traces of exhaustion.


    Even though it was a simple spell, it had still taken a lot out of him. Mental magic required intense concentration, and his energy was nearly drained.


    Still, this Heart Lock Cage would at least ensure that his thoughts remained safe from prying eyes, for a few hours.


    The mental strain made Harry feel drowsy once again.


    This time, he relaxed against the soft mattress, let out a contented sigh, and fell into a deep sleep.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Meanwhile, in a Private Staff Dormitory.


    The air reeked of burnt hair.


    Professor Quirrell stared at the scorched tuft of hair that had turned to ash between his fingers. His eyes flicked to the crystal ball in front of him, which was now clouded with dense gray mist.


    His expression darkened as he muttered in confusion,


    "The surveillance is blocked. Is it Hogwarts'' protective barrier?"


    A voice, dripping with disdain, hissed from the back of his head, from within his turban.


    "Possible. After all, the master of this place is Dumbledore! Ah yes, the great ¡®White Wizard¡¯ himself!¡±


    ----


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 Chapter 20

    [Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    Although had always been the center of attention among your peers due to your appearance since childhood, and although he had learned from Hermione that some wizards believed him to be the savior, he liked the feeling of being noticed.


    But when he actually found himself facing a crowd of students lining up just to watch, some even blocking the entrances to the dormitories and common rooms just to watch, he felt nothing but discomfort.


    But today was Harry¡¯s first day of class.


    Of course, such attention had its benefits. Without so many people watching, Harry was certain that he and Ron, who had overslept on the very first day, would have been late for their first Transfiguration lesson.


    And that was a class he could not afford to be late for.


    The Transfiguration course for first-year students was taught by none other than Professor McGonagall herself. Not only was she the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, but she was also the Head of Gryffindor House, Harry¡¯s house.


    Harry didn¡¯t even want to imagine how she would punish him if he were late for her class. After all, Professor McGonagall always seemed so strict.


    To be fair, it wasn¡¯t entirely Harry and Ron¡¯s fault that they had nearly been late. Even though they had woken up later than planned, they still should have been able to reach the classroom on time, if they had skipped breakfast.


    But Hogwarts, for all its wonders, had one rather frustrating flaw: the corridors and staircases were absolutely ridiculous.


    The staircases moved unpredictably, shifting at random times without warning.


    One moment, a staircase might take you straight to your destination, the next, it could lead you somewhere entirely unknown. One second, you could see the classroom at the end of the corridor; the next, the corridor itself might have vanished, replaced by an entirely different part of the castle.


    The whole system was maddening, and Harry had a few choice words for whoever had designed it.


    Luckily, with the help of several amused upper-year students who had been watching the chaos unfold, Harry and Ron managed to find their way to the Transfiguration classroom just in time.


    But being on time didn¡¯t make Transfiguration any easier.


    While reviewing at home, Harry had already realized that Transfiguration was the hardest subject of them all.


    He could grasp most of his other subjects just by reading the textbooks. In Charms, he had even managed to perform some basic spells successfully.


    But Transfiguration was something else entirely. Just glancing at the complex descriptions and theories in the textbook made his head spin.


    Professor McGonagall, ever the serious and no-nonsense teacher, had made it perfectly clear from the start: Transfiguration was one of the most dangerous forms of magic young witches and wizards would encounter at Hogwarts. She sternly warned that any student who dared to fool around in her class would be asked to leave immediately.


    She spoke with such authority that Harry had no doubt she meant every word.


    Before the lesson officially began, Professor McGonagall demonstrated just how advanced Transfiguration could become.


    With a single tap of her wand, the wooden podium beside her transformed instantly into a large, plump boar.


    Harry''s eyes widened in amazement, and the students around him reacted similarly. But before they could gasp or applaud, Professor McGonagall flicked her wand again, the boar tumbled forward and morphed into a sleek leopard.


    The leopard dashed across the classroom before leaping into the air, where it suddenly erupted into flames, transforming into a blazing ball of fire.


    The flames crackled fiercely before exploding into hundreds of fluttering butterflies that filled the room, dancing around the students.


    Harry and his classmates were so mesmerized by the sight that they barely noticed Professor McGonagall¡¯s next movement. But in an instant, the butterflies began to gather around her, merging into the shape of a massive pelican mid-air.


    The pelican swooped down gracefully, landed beside her, spread its wings wide, then, as if unfolding in reverse, slowly reshaped itself back into the wooden podium.


    It was nothing short of spectacular.


    The young wizards and witches were thrilled by the breathtaking performance. Their eyes shone with admiration, and they immediately wished they could master such magic on the spot, perhaps to turn a nearby chair into a grand statue or, for some mischievous minds, transform an annoying classmate into something far less pleasant.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    But Professor McGonagall wasted no time dashing their overenthusiastic hopes.


    "Transfiguration is remarkable and intricate," she said, her sharp gaze sweeping over the class, "but it is also the most difficult subject at Hogwarts. I can say without hesitation that if even a fifth of the students in this room manage to complete just the first two steps of what I just demonstrated before graduation, then their seven years will not have been wasted."


    Harry swallowed. That didn¡¯t sound promising.


    Yet, to his surprise, when the lesson actually began, it wasn¡¯t as impossible as he had feared.


    Professor McGonagall¡¯s explanations were incredibly clear and easy to follow. The daunting, complicated theories in the textbook suddenly made sense as she spoke.


    Of course, it would have been even better if she hadn¡¯t left two entire blackboards filled with notes for them to copy.


    As for the practical portion of their first lesson, Harry felt he had done reasonably well, at least until he glanced at Hermione, who sat behind him.


    Their task was to turn a wooden matchstick into a metal needle.


    According to Professor McGonagall, mastering this alone would cover half of the first-year Transfiguration syllabus.


    Transfiguration involved altering both the appearance and properties of an object. The former was relatively simple, but the latter was considered advanced magic, especially for first-year students.


    Clearly, Hermione¡¯s earlier discussion with Percy had not been in vain. Her matchstick had already taken the shape of a needle, complete with a small hole at the tip for threading, though the material remained wood and was still slightly thicker than a normal needle.


    Harry glanced at the matchstick in his own hand. It wasn¡¯t quite a needle, but it was better than nothing. After all, most of the other students in class still had ordinary matchsticks, their transformation attempts failing to even remove the match head.


    Professor McGonagall reached Hermione first. Seeing the neatly transformed wooden needle, she nodded in approval, and for the first time, a rare smile softened her otherwise stern expression.


    "Very well done, Miss Granger. In my thirty-five years of teaching, you are one of the most exceptional students I have seen. Without a doubt, you have earned two points for Gryffindor.¡±


    Hermione''s face flushed with excitement upon hearing this. She had already learned about the House Points system and the House Cup and knew exactly what this meant.


    Professor McGonagall then moved toward Harry. She examined his "matchstick" and nodded once more.


    "This is an excellent result for a first lesson. Even your father, James, couldn¡¯t have done much better. I believe you could excel in this subject if you put in the effort."


    Harry raised an eyebrow, not because McGonagall had mentioned his father, whom he had never met, but because of something else entirely: her age.


    Thirty-five years of teaching experience?


    That meant that even if she had started teaching immediately after graduation, she would be over fifty years old by now.


    To be honest, he wouldn¡¯t have guessed it.


    Though Professor McGonagall dressed simply and always kept her hair in a tight bun, she didn¡¯t look that old. If you didn¡¯t focus on the depth in her eyes, it was hard to believe she was over fifty.


    "Perhaps wizards aged more slowly? Or maybe Professor McGonagall had some secret to preserving her youth?"


    Harry was curious, but not entirely about McGonagall.


    His thoughts drifted instead to the beautiful professor he had seen sitting at the staff table during the Opening Feast.


    He had no idea how old she was.


    "Harry, that was amazing!" Ron exclaimed after class.


    During the lesson, if one didn¡¯t look closely, Ron¡¯s matchstick had barely changed at all.


    Still, he wasn¡¯t the worst in class, at least his matchstick showed some signs of attempted transfiguration. Neville¡¯s, on the other hand, remained completely unchanged.


    "It was okay," Harry said, trying to sound modest.


    But the wide grin on his face betrayed him, his casual response was far from convincing.


    After all, what kid doesn¡¯t like being praised?


    Of course, if the praise came from a girl.


    "Harry, that was incredible!"


    Parvati Patil, her long black hair cascading like a waterfall and carrying the faint scent of flowers, turned toward him as she and two other girls passed by. She flashed him a smile, praised him, and then hurried away, giggling with her friends.


    Well, that compliment felt much better than Ron¡¯s.


    "Potter¡­ Potter."


    Just as Harry was struggling to suppress his smug expression, a hesitant, almost shy voice sounded beside him.


    Harry and Ron turned simultaneously, only to find themselves face to face with a young professor. He had delicate features, but his complexion was deathly pale.


    It was Professor Quirrell, full name Quirinus Quirrell, the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. He had been seated beside Professor Snape at the staff table during the Opening Feast.


    At the time, Harry had been silently cursing Snape under his breath, and later, thanks to Percy and the Weasley twins, he had gathered a general impression of both professors.


    If, before today, Harry had felt slightly guilty about badmouthing a teacher, that guilt had vanished the moment his scar started hurting.


    But after hearing stories about Snape¡¯s past behavior, he no longer felt even a hint of remorse.


    One was a bullying psychopath.


    The other was a model student turned coward.


    That was how Harry had summed up the information he had gathered so far.


    The "psychopath" was, of course, Snape. He was notorious for bullying students from the other three Houses, especially Gryffindors.


    The "good student turned coward" was Professor Quirrell.


    Originally, he had taught Muggle Studies, an elective subject for third-years and above. From what Harry had heard, Quirrell had been a brilliant teacher.


    But this year, for some unknown reason, he had suddenly applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Along with this career shift, his personality had drastically changed, transforming him into a nervous wreck.


    According to Fred (or was it George?), Quirrell had supposedly encountered something terrifying over the summer.


    The twins speculated that it had been a vampire, judging by the overwhelming stench of garlic surrounding him.


    Now that Harry was standing closer, he could definitely smell it.


    So, according to the twins theory, Professor Quirrell had gone from an excellent teacher to a paranoid coward, all because of a vampire encounter.


    And now, the so-called "former good student, current coward" had approached him.


    Harry instinctively raised an eyebrow but still greeted him politely.


    "Good morning, Professor Quirrell.¡±


    "H-hello¡­ h-hello¡­" Quirrell nodded quickly. His stammer seemed even worse, as if he were incredibly nervous.


    "Y-you must w-work hard in class¡­ T-this afternoon¡­ A-also¡­ O-oh!"


    "Of course, Professor," Harry replied, keeping his tone respectful.


    What else was he supposed to say?


    Just then, a cold voice cut through the air.


    "Quirrell, what are you doing?¡±


    ----


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 Chapter 21

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    "Severus Snape, why does this guy act as if everyone owes him twenty thousand Galleons?" thought Harry.


    Watching Snape quickly walk away with Quirrell in his arms, casting him yet another strange look before leaving, Harry felt a bit annoyed.


    His scar was hurting again. For some reason, it seemed to ache every time Snape appeared. But this time, the pain lasted only for a brief moment and vanished in the blink of an eye.


    Even so, the sensation left Harry feeling deeply uncomfortable.


    Later, Professor Quirrell¡¯s Defense Against the Dark Arts class turned out to be a disappointment for all the young witches and wizards, Harry and Ron included.


    Defense Against the Dark Arts was supposed to teach students how to defend themselves against aggressive magical creatures and dark magic. Normally, it should have been a subject full of useful spells.


    However, Professor Quirrell, who had been considered a competent Muggle Studies teacher, had turned Defense Against the Dark Arts into a complete joke.


    Not to mention, the classroom reeked of garlic. By now, the twins had already spread the rumor that Quirrell had angered a vampire, and nearly everyone in the school knew about it. The school year had barely begun, and it was impressive how quickly they had managed to share this information.


    Quirrell often boasted about his past adventures in class, but whenever students asked for details, he would stammer, give vague responses, and change the subject, much to everyone¡¯s disappointment.


    Even Hermione, who always respected her teachers and even admired them a little, frowned after the lesson, looking rather dissatisfied.


    However, Harry and Ron secretly suspected that Hermione¡¯s frustration might also stem from her inability to earn points for Gryffindor.


    Before this class, Hermione had earned at least one point for Gryffindor in every lesson that week. Seamus Finnigan had even started calling her the "Scoring Champion."


    But in Quirrell¡¯s class, there hadn¡¯t been a single chance for her to earn points, simply because the lesson was that bad.


    Putting aside the dreadful Defense Against the Dark Arts class and the late-night Astronomy lessons that required climbing the tower, Harry still found life at Hogwarts quite fascinating.


    However, that perspective shifted slightly on Friday.


    On Friday morning, Harry was in an excellent mood.


    After enjoying a delicious breakfast, he waited as Ron stuffed the last onion ring into his mouth. Just then, Hedwig unexpectedly arrived with a letter.


    So far, Harry had received three letters. Two were from Flourish and Blotts, confirming the delivery of books he had ordered, one of them about Quidditch.


    Ron, Seamus, and the other boys talked about Quidditch non-stop, and even Neville, who was usually quiet, joined in on the discussions.


    But Harry knew nothing about the sport. Ron and the others¡¯ explanations were vague, full of personal opinions, and often so enthusiastic that, if Harry lost focus for even a moment, the conversation would turn into wild and exaggerated storytelling.


    Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville each supported different teams and frequently argued about match results. While these debates never affected their friendship, they left Harry feeling utterly lost.


    Given the situation, he figured reading a book would help him understand the game better and fit in more easily with his friends.


    The third letter had been from Dudley. It was short, just a brief update on his new life at university, along with a vague mention of his worries about upcoming exams.


    Harry had replied with a letter containing a magic circle from the Aegean magical tradition. This spell had an effect similar to the shorthand magic he had previously used on Dudley.


    The first person to open the letter would benefit from the magical effect, but only the first person. If Dudley was unlucky enough to open it last, there was nothing Harry could do.


    It had taken him nearly half a month to prepare the spell. Creating a magical circle and infusing it with power was far more challenging than simply casting a spell.


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    At the same time, Harry couldn¡¯t help but wonder how Dudley had even managed to send a letter to Hogwarts in the first place¡­


    Today''s letter, however, was special, it was from Hagrid. He had invited Harry to visit his hut near the Forbidden Forest that afternoon.


    Ron, who was sitting beside Harry, saw the letter and immediately asked excitedly, ¡°Can I come too? Harry, can I?¡± Clearly, Ron was just as curious about Hagrid, whose massive size set him apart from ordinary people.


    Harry pulled a ballpoint pen from his robe pocket. He still wasn¡¯t used to using a quill, and he wouldn¡¯t bother with one unless absolutely necessary for homework.


    He simply scribbled his response, agreeing to the visit, then gave Hedwig a treat and sent her off.


    At this point, Harry was still in a great mood. However, that changed drastically during Potions class.


    Harry had already heard from older students that the head of Slytherin House, Professor Snape, was particularly hostile toward students outside his own house.


    However, he hadn¡¯t yet grasped just how extreme that hostility could be.


    The Potions classroom was located in the dungeon, making it feel dark and eerie. In one corner of the room, glass and crystal jars of various sizes lined the shelves. Harry didn¡¯t recognize any of their contents, nor did he particularly want to, many of them looked downright disgusting.


    These strange objects only made the already gloomy classroom seem even more unsettling.


    Harry shared Potions class with the Slytherins, which meant he saw Draco Malfoy again, the same Malfoy whose nose had been bleeding after Harry ran into him on the train.


    Harry wasn¡¯t the type to hold grudges. In fact, he rarely let conflicts drag on, he preferred immediate payback. So while he was still a little annoyed with Malfoy, he wasn¡¯t thinking much about their previous encounter.


    Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed unable to let it go. Though he tried to appear calm, his darting eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.


    As for the two bulky boys flanking Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, they looked utterly clueless. Compared to them, Harry thought even his cousin Dudley seemed intelligent.


    "I wonder if my cousin got my letter."


    Hedwig hadn¡¯t brought a reply yet, so Harry had no idea how he was doing.


    As Harry pondered this, Professor Snape began speaking from the front of the classroom.


    Like Professor Flitwick in Charms, Snape took his time during roll call, especially when he reached Harry¡¯s name.


    However, while Flitwick always smiled kindly when calling on Harry, Snape was different.


    ¡°Ah, we have a new celebrity in class today¡­¡±


    Snape''s cold, unreadable black eyes fixed on Harry as he spoke, his tone laced with sarcasm.


    Malfoy and his two lackeys chuckled quietly.


    Harry rolled his eyes, not bothering to acknowledge the three idiots.


    Snape finished roll call and, after glancing around the room, began his introduction to the course, his voice hollow and chilling.


    Harry couldn''t help but yawn. Unfortunately, that small action did not go unnoticed by Snape.


    Clearly, Harry¡¯s lazy posture and indifferent expression irritated the professor.


    "Potter!" Snape suddenly snapped. "Stand up.¡±


    Harry frowned slightly but complied. "Yes, Professor?"


    "What is the difference between Aconitum napellus and Aconitum lycoctonum?"


    Snape¡¯s voice was so cold that it might as well have sent shards of ice through the air.


    Almost before Snape had finished speaking, Hermione, who sat in the front row, shot her hand into the air.


    This had happened in nearly every class so far. Hermione eagerly answered questions in every subject, and most of the house points she earned for Gryffindor came from these moments.


    Harry and Ron were beginning to suspect she had memorized every first-year textbook. She answered questions with such confidence, without hesitation or uncertainty, that it seemed almost effortless.


    However, this time, Hermione didn¡¯t even get the chance.


    Snape completely ignored her small, pale hand waving in the air.


    Harry raised an eyebrow, met Snape¡¯s cold gaze, and replied calmly, "There¡¯s no difference, Professor. They¡¯re both Aconitum. They just have different names, they¡¯re the same plant."


    Snape''s brow twitched ever so slightly, as if surprised that Harry actually knew the answer. But he quickly moved on.


    "Then tell me, if I needed coprolites, where would I find them?"


    "Any potions shop in Diagon Alley should have them." Harry smirked. He could tell Snape was deliberately trying to trip him up.


    But Harry was prepared.


    He had learned early on that Snape enjoyed tormenting students from other houses, especially Gryffindors. So, he had taken the time to prepare in advance, even visiting the library during his free time to study a bit more than usual.


    As expected, Snape had singled him out.


    But that was fine.


    If Snape wanted to play, Harry was happy to play along.


    With a smug sense of satisfaction, he added, "Of course, if you¡¯re asking where coprolites actually come from, you¡¯ll find them in the stomachs of goats.¡±


    Snape''s frown deepened, and Hermione, still holding her hand in the air, lowered it slowly and turned to stare at Harry in surprise.


    Clearly, she hadn¡¯t expected him to answer so easily.


    Since arriving at Hogwarts, Harry had spent most of his time joking around with his roommates rather than studying with Hermione.


    Maybe, just maybe, it was because Hermione wasn¡¯t pretty enough?


    After all, Harry did spend a lot of time in the library with the Patil twins, the Indian sisters, though, to be fair, that was mostly just coincidence.


    Snape studied Harry¡¯s face, and for the briefest moment, Harry thought he saw something change in the professor¡¯s expression.


    For the first time, Snape¡¯s eyes softened, carrying an emotion that felt different.


    That look made Harry feel extremely uncomfortable. He instinctively furrowed his brows.


    "Professor?" he asked cautiously.


    It was as if Harry¡¯s voice had shattered whatever thoughts were running through Snape¡¯s mind.


    In an instant, the emotion in Snape¡¯s eyes vanished, and his face returned to its usual stoic, unreadable expression.


    "Then tell me," Snape continued, his tone now deeper, "what would I get if I added powdered Narcissus root to an infusion of wormwood?"


    Harry frowned slightly.


    That wasn¡¯t in the first-year textbook.


    Even Hermione hesitated before raising her hand again.


    But.


    "Draught of Living Death, Professor." Harry answered smoothly. "Also known as the Water of Life and Death, it¡¯s an extremely powerful sleeping potion. Of course, that¡¯s assuming there are no mistakes in its brewing process, it¡¯s quite a complicated potion to make."


    Snape: "¡­"


    Ron: "¡­"


    Hermione: "¡­"


    Malfoy: "¡­¡±


    ----


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 Chapter 22

    [Chapter Size: 1700 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    The first-year students of Gryffindor and Slytherin seemed surprised. Malfoy¡¯s reaction was the most exaggerated, his mouth opened so wide that Harry suspected he could fit his entire fist inside it.


    Harry and Hermione weren¡¯t the only ones who had prepared their textbooks in advance, especially the young Slytherins, since the head of their house was a highly respected professor.


    However, it was surprising that a Gryffindor could answer that question, as it was clearly not in the textbook.


    ¡°So¡­¡± After a brief hesitation, Snape spoke again. ¡°One last question, Mr. Potter. What is the formula for the Polyjuice Potion?¡±


    At that moment, Harry was absolutely certain, Snape was just trying to make things difficult for him.


    The Polyjuice Potion recipe was nowhere to be found in the standard textbooks. It wasn¡¯t something taught to first-years, nor was it likely to be covered in their curriculum at all. This was a potion capable of altering a person¡¯s appearance, a restricted substance.


    Although classified as a restricted potion, brewing it wouldn¡¯t result in direct punishment from the Ministry of Magic. However, using it for fraudulent purposes was strictly prohibited by wizarding law, punishable by fines or even imprisonment.


    By sheer coincidence, Harry had overheard the Weasley twins mention the potion before. Just last night, he had come across a book titled Moste Potente Potions in the library and discovered its recipe within its pages.


    A tricky question indeed!


    Curious, Harry had memorized the formula. He had an excellent memory and had even written it down. But he was certain that even if he recalled the ingredients and brewing methods perfectly, his chances of successfully making the potion himself were slim, perhaps one in ten at best.


    Even if he wasn¡¯t confident in brewing it, he still knew the formula.


    ¡°The fluxweed must be picked during a full moon, the bicorn horn¡­¡±


    ¡°Silence!¡± Snape cut Harry off with a sharp rebuke, a clear trace of malice flashing across his face. ¡°Twenty points from Gryffindor. Mr. Potter has been studying restricted potions without authorization. Sit down at once!¡±


    Hermione: ¡°???¡±


    Ron: ¡°???¡±


    Other Gryffindor students: ¡°???¡±


    All the young Gryffindors were stunned. If they could swear, they certainly would have. Is this even real?!


    Not only did he not receive extra points for answering a difficult question, he lost points instead?!


    They had always known that the Potions professor was unfair, but none of them had expected him to be this unfair.


    The Slytherins were momentarily surprised as well, but soon, suppressed laughter spread among them. Malfoy, in particular, was laughing so hard he nearly slammed his hand on the desk. Snape, however, remained completely indifferent to their amusement.


    Harry¡¯s expression darkened, and he felt a surge of irritation.


    Back in the Muggle world, he had always been popular in school, his good grades and looks earned him favor from both teachers and classmates alike. The same had happened when he arrived at Hogwarts. Most of the professors treated him fairly, and his fellow students seemed to enjoy talking to him.


    Some older girls had even expressed a rather obvious interest in him, in more ways than one.


    And now, being treated so unfairly, so shamelessly, by Snape made Harry¡¯s temper flare. He didn¡¯t sit down. Instead, he stared coldly at Snape.


    ¡°I said, sit down, Potter.¡±


    Seeing Harry¡¯s strikingly handsome face contorted into a rebellious expression only fueled Snape¡¯s irritation. He glared at Harry as if he were some heinous criminal.


    ¡°Professor Snape,¡± Harry¡¯s voice was as cold as Snape¡¯s, but its slightly raspy tone made it sound even harsher. His gaze was just as icy, and when he looked at Snape, it was as if he were staring at a pile of garbage.


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    Snape frowned slightly, waiting for Harry¡¯s next words.


    But Harry¡¯s response was completely unexpected. In a calm tone, he asked, ¡°Did you forget to take your medicine today?¡±


    ¡°Take my medicine?¡± Snape was momentarily stunned. Though he had spent his childhood in the Muggle world, he had rarely interacted with non-magical people since coming to Hogwarts. It took him a moment to register the insult.


    Even if Snape didn¡¯t understand immediately, several Gryffindor students, those familiar with Muggle culture, caught on right away. Hermione, for instance, was now staring at Harry in horror.


    Harry maintained a serious expression and continued, ¡°Yes. The one for your brain condition.¡±


    ¡°Ah!¡± Hermione gasped before quickly covering her mouth. Several other students reacted similarly.


    The classroom fell into absolute silence.


    You could hear a pin drop.


    ¡°What did you just say?¡±


    Snape¡¯s cold expression twisted with fury, making his already unpleasant face look even more grotesque. Clearly, he hadn¡¯t expected a student to dare say such things to him.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you the Potions professor? You should be good at potions.¡± Harry remained unfazed by Snape¡¯s furious glare. His face was still serious, but his words were laced with mockery:


    ¡°Or is it that wizard medicine isn¡¯t very effective for mental disorders? In that case, I suggest you visit a Muggle hospital. Do you know what a psychiatric hospital is? You should make an appointment as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°You, you dare insult a professor?! Thirty points from Gryffindor!¡± Snape roared, his voice filled with barely controlled rage.


    ¡°You¡¯re so casual about it.¡± Harry didn¡¯t care in the slightest and even scoffed.


    ¡°With a professor like you, who clearly has a mental disorder, house points don¡¯t mean much. From now on, I won¡¯t answer any more of your questions. Do whatever you want.¡±


    After saying that, Harry completely ignored Snape¡¯s reaction, sat down, opened his book, and started reading on his own.


    Snape stood there, and surprisingly, his face showed little expression. He simply remained silent.


    No one in the class dared to speak. No one dared to breathe too loudly. No one dared to move.


    For a moment, the only sound in the classroom was the rustling of pages as Harry turned them.


    Two full minutes passed.


    These were probably the longest two minutes of the students¡¯ lives.


    Finally, Snape spoke again.


    ¡°Open your books to page seven. Today, you will learn how to brew a Boil-Cure Potion. Work in pairs and follow the instructions in the book. Start now. What are you all staring at? Move!¡±


    Harry didn¡¯t even lift his head, as if he weren¡¯t paying attention at all.


    The other students, however, lacked his courage, and everyone quickly paired up without hesitation.


    Ron had originally wanted to partner with Harry, but Snape forced him to pair with Lavender Brown, the Gryffindor girl he had accidentally run into during the Sorting Ceremony.


    But since there were ten students in each house, if no one paired with Harry, one person would inevitably be left without a partner.


    That person was Neville.


    Neville¡¯s performance in the few lessons they¡¯d had this week had been explosive.


    And not in a good way.


    To be fair, "explosive" might not even be the best word, because there was a Gryffindor named Seamus Finnigan who was truly exceptional in that regard.


    Neville hesitated for a moment, watching the other students get started, then cautiously approached Harry.


    ¡°Harry¡­¡± he murmured hesitantly.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s weigh the nettles first.¡± Harry smiled at Neville, grabbed the scale from the table, and began measuring out the potion ingredients.


    Harry felt like he had a knack for Potions. For some reason, whenever he saw an ingredient listed in the book, he could instinctively find it among the materials on the table without needing to check the illustrations. Seven or eight times out of ten, he got it right.


    On top of that, he felt oddly comfortable using scales, tongs, and various other tools for handling potion ingredients.


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting.¡± he thought.


    Throughout the classroom, only two groups seemed to be keeping up with the pace, Hermione¡¯s group and Draco¡¯s group. The rest of the students were lagging behind.


    But what surprised Harry the most was that Neville was actually doing quite well.


    Before this, Neville¡¯s performance in nearly every subject had been subpar. In fact, up until today, he hadn¡¯t successfully cast a single spell in class.


    This had made Neville, who was already naturally shy, even more anxious, causing him to second-guess everything he did. And more often than not, the more cautious he was, the more mistakes he made.


    But in Potions class, Neville was performing exceptionally well.


    Even though he wasn¡¯t as organized as Harry or Hermione, who had prepared for their lessons in advance, he was still doing significantly better than in other subjects.


    In particular, Harry noticed that Neville seemed to have a strong intuition for medicinal herbs, easily identifying them with accuracy. His hands were steady, and he was surprisingly skilled at chopping and grinding ingredients, better than Harry, even.


    Come to think of it, Neville did seem to do well in Herbology, didn¡¯t he? It was just that Hermione¡¯s brilliance often overshadowed him.


    As Harry observed Neville, Snape stalked through the classroom.


    He criticized nearly every Gryffindor, especially Ron¡¯s group. At one point, he loomed over Ron and suddenly sneered at him, scaring Ron so badly that he almost knocked over his cauldron. Fortunately, Lavender reacted quickly and stabilized it just in time.


    The only two groups that Snape didn¡¯t criticize were Hermione¡¯s and Harry¡¯s.


    Hermione¡¯s group had probably done everything perfectly. After all, this was a simple, low-level potion, and as long as they followed the book exactly, there was no way to mess it up. That was hardly a challenge for Hermione, who had already memorized the entire textbook.


    As for Harry¡¯s group, they had no idea if they were making mistakes or not, because Snape hadn¡¯t even come near them.


    It would be a lie to say that Harry wasn¡¯t nervous. But at this point, there was absolutely no way he was going to back down.


    ----


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 Chapter 23

    [Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    "Harry, aren''t you afraid of Snape at all?"


    After leaving the Potions classroom, Ron couldn¡¯t help but approach Harry and ask, his face filled with both awe and disbelief.


    "What''s so scary about him? What could he possibly do to me?" Harry asked, trying to stay calm, even though, deep down, he was actually panicking.


    "What else could I do? Parvati and Hermione were right beside me. Was I supposed to admit I was scared at that moment? Sure, my hands were trembling while I was cutting the herbs, but that''s beside the point. No way, I have to keep my composure until the end!" thought Harry.


    "But he''s the Head of Slytherin..." Ron still seemed uneasy. Something about Harry''s attitude didn¡¯t sit right with him. How could someone react like this? This was Snape, the legendary man who could make Gryffindor students stop crying just by looking at them!


    "Hey, I noticed."


    Seeing that Parvati, a few other Gryffindor girls, and even a pretty Slytherin girl were paying attention to their conversation, Harry knew he couldn¡¯t appear weak. Pulling himself together, he forced a calm demeanor and said:


    "The school rules clearly state that professors can''t punish students using magic. Even if it''s a non-magical punishment, only the Head of House has the authority to discipline their own students. In other words, if Snape wants to punish me, he''d have to go through Professor McGonagall. And as you just pointed out, he''s the Head of Slytherin. Do you really think he''d have the nerve to go whining to her about me?¡±


    Harry had initially said this just to mess with Ron, but the more he spoke, the more sense it seemed to make. Thinking about it logically, Snape really couldn¡¯t do much to him after all.


    "Could... that actually be true?" Ron was dumbfounded. It took him a moment to process before he finally responded with genuine admiration: "Harry, that''s brilliant. You managed to think of all that so quickly."


    By this time, the two had reached the Great Hall, when there was no feast, it was simply a dining hall, empty during off-hours.


    Seeing that there were no girls nearby, at least, none close enough to hear, Harry finally exhaled the breath he had been holding. This time, he whispered: "No, I was actually pretty panicked at first. But then I thought about it, and honestly, it seems like nothing really happened, hehe."


    That was only half true. Harry had been panicked in the beginning. But later, he started questioning his own fear, and in the end, he had simply bluffed his way through it.


    "Huh?" Ron blinked, momentarily confused. Then, unable to help himself, he asked, "But what if Snape writes to your family? He might not be able to complain to Professor McGonagall, but he could always write to your parents."


    Harry rolled his eyes. "Are you serious? Which parent exactly would he be writing to?"


    Snape, writing to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to complain? Harry nearly burst out laughing. That letter would be tossed into the fireplace and burned within three seconds of reaching Aunt Petunia''s hands, if there was even a fire going at the time.


    "Oh... right. Sorry." Ron suddenly remembered that Harry didn¡¯t have parents and quickly waved his hands apologetically.


    "It''s fine, really." Harry shrugged it off, unconcerned. They had known each other for almost a week now, and he understood Ron well enough. He didn¡¯t mean anything bad, his mouth just tended to work faster than his brain.


    Harry figured that if he were in a different environment, or at a different school, he¡¯d probably be one of those unlucky kids who got bullied, but not in a way that made people sympathize with them.


    After passing through the hallways, Harry and Ron stepped outside the castle. They had arranged to meet Hagrid that afternoon. Even though their Potions class had been unpleasant, it didn¡¯t dampen their excitement about seeing him.


    Hagrid lived on the edge of the castle grounds, near the Forbidden Forest. Harry couldn¡¯t help but wonder, aside from being the Keeper of Keys and Grounds, was Hagrid also responsible for acting as a watchman between Hogwarts and the forest?


    From Harry¡¯s perspective, Hagrid¡¯s sheer size was intimidating, making him a perfect choice for an outpost guard.


    Compared to Hagrid himself, however, his house wasn¡¯t all that big. It was a small, pointed-roof hut, though slightly larger than a typical cottage, especially the door. Which made sense, considering a regular-sized door wouldn¡¯t be very convenient for someone like Hagrid.


    A crossbow and a pair of large rubber boots sat by the doorstep.


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    Ron seemed very interested in the crossbow, but he was fairly certain that even if he and Harry used both hands and feet, they wouldn¡¯t be able to pull it open. Harry also doubted the crossbow was meant for hunting dragons, but it was probably strong enough to take down a rhino.


    As for the boots, Harry figured that if he had been a five-year-old child, he could have easily used one of them as a boat.


    Harry knocked on the thick, solid wooden door, producing a muffled sound. But it was clear that someone inside had heard, as Harry picked up the sound of a low bark from within.


    A moment later, the door swung open, revealing Hagrid¡¯s large, bearded face, grinning as usual.


    And beside him was a.


    Well. At first, Harry thought it was a small black bear. But upon closer inspection, he realized it was actually a very large black dog. He suspected the dog had some kind of magical lineage, because he had never seen one that big, not even on television.


    Holding the massive dog back, Hagrid stepped aside to let Harry and Ron enter.


    Just like it appeared from the outside, the hut was a single large room. Everything was in one place, bed, table, chairs. Strips of bacon hung from the rafters, and a large stone stove sat on the floor.


    "Relax, sit anywhere you like," Hagrid said, shutting the door behind them before finally letting go of the giant dog.


    The dog immediately lunged at Ron, who happened to be standing closest, startling him. But, much like Hagrid himself, the dog turned out to be far less intimidating than its size suggested. Instead of attacking, it simply started licking Ron¡¯s ears with its massive tongue.


    "This is Ron, the one you met on the first day of school."


    Harry couldn''t help but shudder as he glanced at Ron, whose face was still covered in drool from being licked but who, somehow, still looked ridiculously happy.


    "A Weasley, I could tell at a glance." Hagrid chuckled heartily. "Your brothers, George and Fred, are easily the most mischievous students I¡¯ve seen at Hogwarts in over fifty years. I swear, they''ve spent more time in the Forbidden Forest than I have! Anyway, this here is Fang."


    Hagrid introduced his enormous dog and gestured for Harry to pet him, but Harry politely declined.


    It wasn¡¯t that Harry disliked dogs or had a problem with petting one. But if there was even a slight chance of getting licked in the face the way Ron had been, then no, absolutely not.


    Hagrid then asked Harry how his first week had been.


    Before Harry could answer, Ron had already launched into the story of his legendary performance in Potions class.


    "Well, Snape''s always hated anyone who isn¡¯t in Slytherin, but I¡¯ll admit, he went a bit too far this time." Hagrid shook his head and hesitated before adding, "But, Harry, talking back to a professor still isn¡¯t the best idea. Especially since Potions is a required course. You won¡¯t be able to skip it until at least your fifth year."


    "Wait, so you don¡¯t have to take Potions after fifth year?" Ron perked up at that revelation.


    He might not have the nerve to stand up to Snape the way Harry had, but if he had a legitimate excuse to skip Potions, he would seize the opportunity in a heartbeat.


    "Well, actually, a lot of students want to take Potions in their sixth year but aren¡¯t allowed to." Hagrid spread his arms wide. "Snape''s quite strict when it comes to advanced classes."


    And that was how Harry and Ron learned, for the first time, about the existence of the O.W.L. exams.


    Technically, Ron should have already known about them, he had two older brothers who had taken them, and his third brother, Percy, would be sitting for his Ordinary Wizarding Level exams this year.


    However, since there was a big age gap between Ron and his eldest brothers, and since he and Percy didn¡¯t exactly get along, he had never really paid much attention to the subject.


    When Ron learned that only students who received an Outstanding on their O.W.L.s were allowed to continue Potions in sixth year, he immediately decided to intentionally lower his score on the exam.


    The poor kid had no idea how difficult the test actually was. He¡¯d realize soon enough, probably by the end of the year at the latest.


    Surprisingly, Ron and Hagrid got along quite well.


    It was probably because Ron had three older brothers, two of whom, Fred and George, were Hagrid¡¯s favorite troublemakers. Though, with twins, it was likely a love-hate relationship.


    But the Weasley brother Hagrid truly liked was the second eldest, Charlie.


    Harry recalled Ron mentioning that Charlie Weasley was studying dragons in Romania. Hagrid, on the other hand, had once said he had always wanted a dragon.


    With that in mind, it wasn¡¯t surprising that he and Ron had common ground.


    The water in the kettle had started boiling, so Hagrid poured each of them a cup of tea.


    Harry didn¡¯t know much about tea, neither did his aunt and uncle, who were much more partial to coffee. He had drunk tea before, though. Once, a senior executive from some multinational company had visited their home, and Uncle Vernon had prepared tea to suit the guest¡¯s preferences.


    Harry had taken a sip as well. He never understood why anyone liked the taste of what were essentially bitter leaves floating in hot water. It seemed to be one of those things that only so-called "elites" enjoyed.


    In Harry¡¯s opinion, tea wasn¡¯t as good as coffee, coffee wasn¡¯t as good as a milkshake, and a milkshake wasn¡¯t nearly as good as a Coca-Cola.


    Of course, if it was the pumpkin juice from Hogwarts, that was a different story. That stuff was delicious.


    Tea usually came with snacks, and Hagrid was no exception. Unfortunately, the rock cakes he had prepared were, not exactly the best choice.


    After struggling for quite some time without being able to break through the cake¡¯s impenetrable defenses, both Harry and Ron decided to give up.


    When Hagrid set the tray of rock cakes on the table, Harry noticed a newspaper lying underneath.


    It was the Daily Prophet, the most widely circulated newspaper in the British wizarding world, and possibly even all of Europe.


    The headline on the front page caught his attention:


    "Latest Report on the Unauthorized Break-in at Gringotts."


    The Gringotts break-in had been a hot topic in the wizarding community lately.


    Harry didn¡¯t have a newspaper subscription yet, but he had already paid for one and planned to start receiving it next month. The Weasley family, however, did have a subscription, probably because Percy needed to stay informed on current events. Even though Harry had only known him for a short time, he could already tell that Percy definitely planned to work at the Ministry of Magic someday.


    The break-in incident had been covered extensively in the news.


    But after skimming through the article, Harry realized there still weren¡¯t any major updates, the culprit had yet to be caught.


    Looks like even goblins aren¡¯t as good as they claim to be. Harry thought to himself, though at the same time, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit worried about his gold in Gringotts.


    ----


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 Chapter 24

    [Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    The Gringotts break-in should have been considered a major event in the wizarding world, but most young witches and wizards at school didn¡¯t care much about it.


    Except for a few, like Harry, most students didn¡¯t have money deposited in Gringotts. While many wizarding families kept their wealth stored in its vaults, as long as their parents were alive, those treasures remained out of reach.


    First-years, in particular, were the least concerned, some of them didn¡¯t even know which direction Gringotts¡¯ entrance was in the United Kingdom.


    Harry and Ron were among the few who paid attention to the incident. Harry was mostly concerned about his own belongings, while Ron was worried because his older brother, Bill, worked at Gringotts.


    Ron often talked about Bill, and in his words, Bill was the most promising child of this generation of the Weasley family. He had excelled in school, earning twelve distinctions in the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests (N.E.W.T.s).


    During his time at Hogwarts, Bill had been a Prefect in his fifth year and the Head Boy in his seventh. He was also a Beater on his House Quidditch team, though not as skilled as his younger brother, Charlie Weasley, the second-oldest Weasley sibling. Harry had heard from Ron and other wizard-born students that if Charlie hadn¡¯t pursued a career in dragon studies, he could have made it onto the national Quidditch team.


    After graduating, Bill joined Gringotts, thanks to his outstanding academic performance.


    Harry was stunned by what he heard.


    In the Muggle world, this would be like being one of the top students, a key player on the school¡¯s football team, scoring perfect grades on A-levels, and landing a job at Standard Chartered Bank.


    A bigger, more accomplished version of Percy?


    That¡¯s what Harry thought. After all, Percy had excellent grades and was also a Prefect. Unfortunately, he wasn¡¯t great at Quidditch.


    As Harry left Hagrid and returned to the castle, a thought suddenly struck him. When Hagrid had taken him to Gringotts, he had retrieved something, something that seemed to be on Dumbledore¡¯s orders.


    Harry had asked about it, but Hagrid had said it was a secret and refused to explain.


    Back then, Harry and Hagrid weren¡¯t that close yet, so he had been hesitant to press further. Besides, there were so many new things in the wizarding world that had fascinated him at the time, so he hadn¡¯t given it much thought. But now, it came back to him.


    Had the person who broke into Gringotts been after whatever Hagrid had retrieved?


    While lost in thought, Harry and Ron made their way back to the castle.


    The moment they stepped inside, they were stopped by two sudden appearances, the Weasley twins, Fred and George.


    "Harry, I heard Snape docked 50 points from you?" One of the twins looked at him with a serious expression. The other did the same.


    "Uh..." Harry suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.


    Sure, showing off had felt great at the time, but facing the consequences afterward? Not so much. He¡¯d be lying if he said he had no regrets. Harry actually had a bit of a competitive streak. This week, he had earned eight points for Gryffindor in other classes, second only to Hermione¡¯s eleven.


    And now, Snape had taken away fifty all at once.


    "Well..." Harry began apologetically, "I was just being impulsive at the time..."


    Before he could finish, the twins cheered in perfect synchronization.


    "Wow, that¡¯s amazing!" One of them grabbed Harry¡¯s hand. "Harry, you probably don¡¯t realize it, but you¡¯re now the hero of Gryffindor! Do you know how many people, how many people."


    "How many people have suffered under Snape¡¯s tyranny?" the other twin continued seamlessly.


    "But no one dared to stand up and challenge him!"


    "Until you came along, Harry. Oh, the great Harry Potter..."


    "You didn¡¯t just put him in his place, you left him speechless!¡±


    They spoke in turns, perfectly in sync. Their voices were identical. If you closed your eyes, you¡¯d never guess it was two different people talking.


    People said twins had a kind of telepathic bond, and at first, Harry had been skeptical. But the Weasley twins seemed to prove it true. It was almost magical. Then again, at Hogwarts, magic was just another kind of logic.


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    "Brilliant!" They clapped again.


    Harry was stunned.


    He had already realized the twins weren¡¯t exactly the most responsible people, Hagrid had warned him about them.


    These two troublemakers frequented the Forbidden Forest, a dark, mysterious woodland of unknown size near the castle. And given the word "forbidden", its meaning should have been pretty obvious.


    So, Harry had been mentally prepared for whatever antics they¡¯d pull. But when he finally witnessed their recklessness firsthand, he couldn¡¯t help but sigh. It seemed like they really didn¡¯t care about House points.


    That said, the twins were far from incompetent. Their grades were actually quite good, and they were exceptionally skilled in magic. The small pouch of Galleons in Harry¡¯s pocket was proof of that, the twins had made it themselves when they were just second-years.


    "Hey, Gryffindor has been losing for years, it¡¯s not a big deal," one of the twins shrugged off Harry and Ron¡¯s unease. "It¡¯s either Ravenclaw or Slytherin who wins anyway."


    "There¡¯s nothing we can do about Ravenclaw, they¡¯re all bookworms. They get top marks; it¡¯s unavoidable. But Slytherin? Well, you¡¯ve seen their Head of House, haven¡¯t you? Heh.¡±


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Harry thought the twins were the only Gryffindor students who didn¡¯t care about losing House points. Well, maybe their best friend, Lee Jordan, the one with the dreadlocks, wasn¡¯t exactly the most reliable person either.


    On his first day at Hogwarts, Lee had brought his new pet: a black spider larger than an adult¡¯s palm, and venomous. He had scared several younger girls on the train until they cried.


    However, Harry soon realized his assumption was wrong.


    While not everyone in Gryffindor was indifferent, it seemed like only two people clearly cared about the lost points: Hermione and Percy.


    When Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room, several older students were throwing a celebration, organized by none other than Lee Jordan.


    The moment Harry and the others walked in, Lee Jordan cheered, "Ohhhh! Our heroes have returned!"


    Another round of applause echoed through the room.


    "Well done, Jordan!" said one of the twins, grinning.


    "Who put Snape in his place?" the other twin shouted.


    "Harry!" answered Lee Jordan and the first twin in unison.


    "Who left Snape speechless?"


    "Harry!" This time, even more students responded, louder than before.


    "Who¡¯s our hero?"


    "Harry!"


    And with that, the celebration kicked off, and nearly every Gryffindor student Harry knew joined in, except for Hermione and Percy.


    Even Percy, the ever-dutiful Prefect, simply frowned but didn¡¯t try to stop the party.


    Apparently, even Percy didn¡¯t like Snape very much.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    If there was one thing at Hogwarts that surprised Harry, besides the infuriating Potions class and Professor Snape, it was the amount of homework.


    The professors showed no mercy just because the students had only been there for a week. There was already a mountain of assignments to tackle, thanks to the heads of the four Houses.


    Apart from Professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff and teacher of Herbology, who gave relatively little homework, the other three heads, Professor McGonagall (Transfiguration), Professor Flitwick (Charms), and Professor Snape (Potions), all assigned loads of work.


    Even though first-year homework wasn¡¯t extremely difficult, it wasn¡¯t easy either, especially not for Ron.


    Harry, on the other hand, managed fairly well. Ever since he had unknowingly started practicing the Chain Meditation Method, his memory had become remarkably sharp. In a Muggle school, having an excellent memory was an advantage. It turned out to be just as useful at a magic school.


    Still, Harry decided to drag Ron along and head to the library with Parvati Patil early in the morning to work on their homework.


    While Harry did quite well in Transfiguration and Charms, earning a few extra points for Gryffindor, the theoretical assignments for both subjects were challenging. And Potions and History of Magic were even worse.


    It wasn¡¯t just Harry, almost everyone in Gryffindor struggled, except for Hermione. She seemed to be the only one who handled the work with ease, showing no signs of stress.


    Harry and Ron had initially thought about asking Hermione for help. After all, they had met her on the train and were on relatively good terms.


    But ever since Harry had lost 50 points for Gryffindor, Hermione had been avoiding them.


    For an eleven-year-old like Harry, who had outgrown the "troublemaker" phase but was still in his primary school years, her silent treatment was irritating.


    If you¡¯re ignoring me, should I be the one to break the ice?


    That was how Harry and Ron saw it. So instead of asking Hermione, they turned to Parvati Patil, who just so happened to be the prettiest girl in Gryffindor.


    Of course, it wasn¡¯t because of her looks. Harry might have started to notice girls a little, but it wasn¡¯t anything serious yet.


    However, like most Gryffindors, Parvati wasn¡¯t much help either.


    The real assistance came from Padma Patil, Parvati¡¯s twin sister, who had been sorted into Ravenclaw.


    Just like the Weasley twins, Parvati and Padma looked identical. If not for the fact that they wore different House colors, Harry and Ron wouldn¡¯t have been able to tell them apart.


    At least their different robes saved them the embarrassment of accidentally mistaking Fred for George, something they still hadn¡¯t figured out how to avoid.


    Ravenclaw, being a haven for the academically gifted, was filled with brilliant students.


    And despite being twins, after just one week in separate Houses, Parvati and Padma were already showing their differences.


    The homework that frustrated Harry, Ron, and even Parvati seemed almost effortless for Padma.


    Though she refused to let them copy her work, she was kind enough to show them which books to reference and where to find the information they needed.


    That helped, a lot.


    Following Padma''s advice, Harry went searching for a book on wizard dueling rules from the Middle Ages.


    It wasn¡¯t easy.


    The Hogwarts library was massive, with countless books, but the indexing system was terrible. It was far less organized than the public library Harry had once visited in the Muggle world.


    The librarian, Madam Pince, didn¡¯t assist the students in finding books. She simply decided whether or not they were allowed to borrow the ones they found.


    Worse still, once students checked out books, they often returned them in the wrong places, leaving the shelves in complete disarray.


    That made it incredibly hard for the next person to find what they were looking for.


    Though, thankfully, every night, the books magically returned to their correct spots, thanks to a bit of library magic.


    Harry and his friends had arrived early, so the shelves were still relatively organized. After a bit of searching, Harry finally found the book he needed.


    Just as he reached for it, though, a thin booklet beside it caught his eye.


    "Learning Techniques and the Basics of Occlumency.¡±


    <div>


    ----


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 Chapter 25

    [Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    "Occlumency?"


    Upon seeing the word, Harry couldn¡¯t help but recall the unsettling sensation of having his mind read when he was under the Sorting Hat.


    This week, in addition to finishing his schoolwork, Harry had spent most of his time practicing Mental Blocking and Mind Reading. He had made some progress in shielding his thoughts but had achieved no success in reading others'' minds.


    "Is this Occlumency? Is it similar to the technique of blocking one''s heart?" thought Harry.


    Harry opened the booklet and skimmed through it, quickly confirming that his assumption was correct. The booklet detailed a type of magic that could prevent external mental intrusion. What surprised him the most was that it recorded two forms of counter-magic:


    Legilimency and the Imperius Curse.


    Harry was familiar with the Imperius Curse, one of the three infamous Unforgivable Curses. As for soul reading. Although he had never heard of it before, the name alone gave him a clear idea. It had to be a magic similar to mind reading.


    Unfortunately, while the booklet contained detailed methods for mental defense and descriptions of Occlumency techniques, the other two types of magic were only briefly mentioned, without any specific spells or incantations.


    Peering into someone¡¯s memories was undoubtedly a terrible invasion of privacy. Harry felt it was even worse than theft. But, if he were being honest, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure he¡¯d be able to resist using such an ability if he had it.


    In truth, he really wanted to learn it right now.


    Unfortunately, since it wasn¡¯t included in the booklet, Harry had no choice but to focus on Occlumency.


    After reviewing the text a few more times, he got the impression that this mental-blocking technique was similar to his own method of guarding his emotions, but not exactly the same.


    "Maybe if I study them together, I can improve my heart-blocking technique?" With that thought, Harry took the booklet with him.


    The books in the Hogwarts library were divided into different categories. Some were off-limits to younger students, while others couldn¡¯t even be accessed without special permission.


    The book Powerful Potions, which Harry had come across before, belonged to the first category. Students below sixth year weren¡¯t allowed to check it out without a professor¡¯s approval, though they could read it inside the library.


    As for The Learning Techniques and Essentials of Occlumency, it was a common book. Madam Pince merely glanced at it, then asked Harry to sign his name before handing it over without further comment.


    When Harry returned to Padma and the others with a book titled The Feats of Famous Duelists in the Middle Ages, he found Ron looking utterly drained.


    Ron was struggling to write a paper on the conflicts and cooperation between witches and the Muggle Church in the Middle Ages, one of two essays for Professor Binns¡¯s notoriously dull History of Magic class that week.


    The assignment had nearly fried all of Ron¡¯s brain cells, yet he had barely made progress. The professor required at least half a meter of parchment, but the scroll in front of Ron barely measured fifteen centimeters...


    Both Parvati and Padma made no effort to hide their disapproval.


    Clearly, Padma had had enough. She stood beside Ron, pointing out where he could refine his wording, expand his arguments, and include additional evidence.


    However, judging by Ron¡¯s blank, unfazed expression, Harry knew that at least half of Padma¡¯s advice was going in one ear and out the other.


    When Harry returned, Padma stopped her lecture and took her seat.


    They were sitting on opposite sides of a long table that could accommodate six people. Harry naturally sat next to Ron, while Padma sat across from him. The table wasn¡¯t very wide, so if they leaned slightly forward, they could easily discuss their work.


    "Did you find it?" Padma asked as she watched Harry sit down.


    Harry clutched the book in his hands and chuckled.


    Padma lowered her voice and began guiding Harry through his research, explaining which sections he could copy verbatim, which parts he needed to summarize, and where he should add his own thoughts.


    Her tone was entirely different from when she had been instructing Ron. This time, she spoke slowly, gently, and patiently. However, Harry¡¯s ability to absorb information wasn¡¯t much better than his best friend¡¯s at the moment.


    Not because his brain couldn¡¯t process it or because he lacked time to absorb the material, but because he and Padma were sitting quite close, and the soft, floral scent of her perfume kept drifting into his nose.


    Harry and his friends had arrived early, so the library was nearly empty at first. After all, waking up early on weekends required a level of determination that not even Gryffindors always possessed.


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    For example, take this newcomer.


    Lavender Brown, dressed in a yellow floral dress, practically floated into the library like an energetic little magpie. She made her way to Harry¡¯s table.


    The six-person table still had an open seat beside Parvati. However, instead of simply sitting down, Lavender suddenly leaned over and whispered in Parvati¡¯s ear:


    "I was wondering why you got up so early on a weekend. Turns out you¡¯re studying with.., hmm, classmates? Hmph, and you didn¡¯t even call me."


    After saying this, she playfully pecked Parvati on the cheek, like a chick pecking at rice.


    Parvati¡¯s beautiful face immediately turned red, and she gently pushed Lavender away. "Stop that!"


    Harry and Padma were both stunned. Two gorgeous girls kissing? That¡¯s exciting?


    Ron, however, remained oblivious. He was locked in a second round of mortal combat with his essay, currently losing, and had no attention to spare for anything else.


    Lavender, realizing she might have gone a bit too far, blushed slightly. She quickly hung her small purse on the back of her chair, sat down, and greeted the others.


    "Hey, Ron. Hi, Harry. Hi, Padma.¡±


    "Hey, Lavender," Padma replied expressionlessly, still shaken by her sister¡¯s unexpected kiss.


    Harry smiled and greeted her as well.


    As for Ron, he had only just realized that someone had arrived. He looked at Lavender, who was staring at him blankly. Maybe he was reminded of the embarrassment from the Sorting Ceremony, as his face turned slightly red. "Uh... h-hi..."


    "Silence!"


    Perhaps due to his confusion, Ron¡¯s voice had risen slightly, prompting Madame Pince¡¯s sharp reprimand to echo through their ears.


    She had clearly used some kind of magic, because while Harry and his friends were startled, the other students nearby seemed completely unaffected.


    The five of them quickly lowered their heads and obediently resumed their homework.


    That morning, with Padma¡¯s help, Harry and his friends finally managed to complete all their assignments for the week. At least this way, we can enjoy a carefree weekend on Saturday afternoon, evening, and all of Sunday.


    For that, both Harry and Ron expressed their gratitude to Padma.


    Without her help, Harry estimated that he wouldn¡¯t have finished until at least that night. As for Ron, unless he was prepared to stay up late battling his essay, he¡¯d probably have to sacrifice half of his Sunday morning to get it done.


    The five of them headed to the Great Hall for lunch, and on the way, they came across two Hufflepuff boys leaving the library as well.


    One of them, a curly-haired boy, suddenly stepped in front of Harry.


    Harry frowned slightly. He recognized the boy, Justin Finch-Fletchley. During the Sorting Ceremony, Justin had openly questioned Harry¡¯s reputation and background.


    At one point, Harry had considered pulling a prank on him in retaliation, but after discovering that Justin was also from a Muggle family, he abandoned the idea. After all, Muggle-born students wouldn¡¯t have known about the wizarding world¡¯s history until shortly before arriving at Hogwarts. It wasn¡¯t surprising that they had their own misconceptions.


    Not everyone can be like Hermione, reading dozens of books about magic before even starting school.


    If Justin were on Hermione¡¯s level, he probably wouldn¡¯t be in Hufflepuff.


    Harry had no intention of picking a fight with Justin, but he also hadn¡¯t expected the other boy to block his path. If he starts talking nonsense again, Harry thought, "I¡¯ll give him a lesson with my fists, just like I did with Draco on the train."


    To his surprise, Justin stepped forward and gave a deep, formal bow.


    "Harry, I¡¯m here to apologize," he said seriously.


    Harry blinked in confusion.


    Justin continued earnestly, "I regret doubting your courage just because of your reputation. We all saw what happened in Potions class. You¡¯re the real deal!" He then gave Harry a big thumbs-up.


    The boy next to him, Ernie Macmillan, also smiled and gave Harry a thumbs-up.


    A question mark seemed to float above Harry¡¯s head.


    This situation is playing out completely differently than expected!


    However, this at least confirmed one thing, Snape was equally hostile to first-years from other houses, including Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Otherwise, these two wouldn¡¯t have reacted like this.


    Despite his surprise, Harry quickly responded politely, assuring them that there was no need to dwell on it.


    Children could be easily annoyed over trivial matters, but they could also make friends just as quickly.


    With their shared dislike for Snape, Harry and Ron found themselves befriending Justin and Ernie. The five became seven, and together, they headed for lunch.


    Although Hogwarts students could technically sit anywhere in the Great Hall except during special banquets, in practice, most stuck to their house tables. That was the case now.


    Even though they had become friends, Justin and Ernie returned to the Hufflepuff table, and Padma was about to return to the Ravenclaw table. Before leaving, she patted Harry on the shoulder.


    "Harry, I spent all morning helping you review your work. How do you plan to thank me?" She batted her big eyes at him playfully.


    "Hmm..." Harry thought for a moment. "How about I get you some Honeydukes sweets?"


    "Really?" Padma had only been teasing, but she hadn¡¯t expected Harry to take her seriously. Honeydukes was a famous candy shop in Hogsmeade, the wizarding village near Hogwarts.


    Hogwarts students were allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but only from third year onwards.


    Thinking of this, Padma hesitated. "But first-years aren¡¯t allowed to go to Hogsmeade.¡±


    "That¡¯s not a problem at all," Harry said with a grin. I may not be able to go, but the Weasley twins can. Given his friendship with Fred and George, asking them to bring back some sweets wouldn¡¯t be an issue.


    "Then it¡¯s settled!" Padma beamed happily before returning to the Ravenclaw table.


    As Harry watched her leave, he suddenly heard Parvati teasing beside him.


    "Harry, Padma¡¯s getting a treat, but what about Lavender and me? Don¡¯t forget, I was the one who introduced you to Padma in the first place!"


    "Yes, yes, of course." Harry nodded repeatedly. He was rich, this little expense was nothing to him.


    "Hehe!" Parvati giggled proudly.


    "By the way," Lavender suddenly said, "I heard the Gryffindor Quidditch team is holding tryouts for new players this afternoon. Want to go watch?"


    "Tryouts? Can we participate?" Harry asked curiously. He had recently studied Quidditch a bit and now had a better understanding of the sport. At first, he had thought, "What¡¯s the point of playing basketball in the air while riding broomsticks?"


    But after looking into it more, he realized, this is actually kind of interesting.


    The only thing that still worried him was whether his legs would get sore from sitting on a broom for too long.


    "No, first-years aren¡¯t allowed on the Quidditch team," Ron said, spreading his hands. Four of his five older brothers had been on the team, so he was quite familiar with the rules.


    "Even if we can¡¯t join, we can still watch. What do you think?" Lavender pressed. "Come on, Ron, your twin brothers are on the team, aren¡¯t they?"


    Ron thought for a moment and nodded. "Yeah, it wouldn¡¯t be bad to check it out."


    Seeing that everyone was interested, Harry agreed as well. If the twins are going to be at the pitch, I can also ask them to bring back those Honeydukes sweets for Padma.


    ----


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 Chapter 26

    [Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]


    ---------------------------------------


    Although he had read a lot about it and seen many moving pictures, Harry still felt a shiver run down his spine when he saw someone flying swiftly on a broomstick across the sky in front of him, striking the Quaffle straight through one of the three goalposts.


    It was as if every hair on his body stood on end at that moment. The impact was so visually striking that not even Van Basten¡¯s volley or Jordan¡¯s free-throw dunk could compare.


    At that moment, Harry knew he was already a Quidditch fan.


    Whether it was the long passes of the Quaffle, the Bludger speeding dangerously toward players¡¯ heads, or the small, exquisite, yet incredibly fast Golden Snitch, he found them all fascinating.


    However, what particularly caught his attention was the bat in the Beater¡¯s hand, which reminded him of Dudley¡¯s baseball bat.


    Dudley liked baseball, but he was an average pitcher and an even worse outfielder, his size made it difficult for him to run and jump. However, batting was his strength. He was even approached by a school scout, but unfortunately, Aunt Petunia declined the offer.


    Smeltings High School was Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon¡¯s obsession.


    Back to the Quidditch pitch.


    One of Gryffindor¡¯s top Chasers, the ones who scored goals, had graduated. Today¡¯s trials were mainly to select new Chasers and a few reserve players.


    The team¡¯s oldest member was a seventh-year student who played as a Seeker. However, he was planning to leave the team to focus on his N.E.W.T. exams. After all, his Quidditch skills were only average, and it was unlikely he would go professional. His magical qualifications would be far more important in securing a job after graduation.


    Next in seniority was Oliver Wood, a fifth-year who had just been appointed captain and played as the team¡¯s Keeper.


    The fourth years had two players, one Seeker and one Chaser, but both had only recently been promoted from the reserves.


    According to what Ron had heard from Fred and George, these two older players were enthusiastic but not particularly skilled.


    Of the seven core team members, four were only in their third year.


    Besides the Weasley twins, who played as Beaters, there were two primary Chasers, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.


    Angelina Johnson was a girl who easily caught the attention of boys. She had dark hair and a healthy bronze complexion. She was tall and well-proportioned, with delicate features, but also possessed a bold, confident aura that most girls didn¡¯t have. She was truly captivating.


    In the stands, Fred and George¡¯s friend, Lee Jordan, was cheering enthusiastically for Angelina.


    No fifth or seventh-year students were trying out, as they had their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s to prepare for.


    Unless someone was exceptionally talented and aiming for a professional Quidditch career, like Oliver Wood, who had already been noticed by Puddlemere United scouts, their priority had to be their exams.


    As a result, the main candidates for selection were third, fourth, and sixth-year students.


    Unfortunately, aside from the sixth-years who had been busy with their O.W.L.s last year, most of the third and fourth-years who wanted to join the team had already tried out the previous year.


    Those who hadn¡¯t been selected last time and hadn¡¯t significantly improved their skills were unlikely to be taken seriously now.


    Even from a distance, Harry could sense the frustration radiating from the team¡¯s captain and Keeper, Oliver Wood. It was so obvious that he didn¡¯t even need to focus on it deliberately.


    Of course, this could also have something to do with the fact that Harry had been studying Occlumency and mental defense techniques at Hogwarts this week.


    Harry felt as though his mental strength and magical power were growing at a rate he had never experienced before. He even suspected that if this continued, he might actually be able to use powerful spells like Neil¡¯s, rather than just the basic levitation and unlocking charms found in beginner spellbooks.


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    "What a shame," Ron sighed as he watched the tryouts. "This is even worse than the Cannons¡¯ new Chaser¡­¡±


    "You¡¯re really comparing them to professional players? I don¡¯t even know what to say to you..." Parvati, sitting nearby, couldn¡¯t help but roll her eyes. But she was beautiful, and even when she rolled her eyes, she looked cute.


    "Ron, do you like the Cannons?" Lavender asked.


    "Yeah, the Chudley Cannons. The bloody Cannons. Their performance gets worse every year, it¡¯s infuriating," Ron grumbled.


    Despite his complaints, Harry knew Ron was a die-hard Cannons fan. Even though they had only known each other for a week, he had already heard Ron rant about the team¡¯s recruitment choices at least twenty times.


    Typical, deep love often leads to harsh criticism.


    Just like last year¡¯s World Cup, when England lost to West Germany in a penalty shootout, Uncle Vernon, Dudley, and Harry had shouted at the TV, nearly breaking it in frustration.


    "Hey, she looks good," Harry said, ignoring Ron¡¯s complaints as his attention shifted to a girl participating in the trials.


    She had golden-brown hair and very fair skin. She wasn¡¯t as striking as Angelina, but she was still quite pretty, with a gentle demeanor. However, her flying skills seemed very impressive.


    Mounted on a battered broomstick with a split tail, he skillfully dodged the Bludger launched into the air by the twins, then sped forward and sent the Quaffle soaring through one of the three goalposts.


    "Ah, she¡¯s really good." Ron¡¯s attention shifted, and he nodded repeatedly.


    "Isn¡¯t that Katie Bell?" Parvati looked at the girl in surprise. "She actually plays Quidditch?"


    "Is something wrong?" Harry asked, curious, not understanding why Parvati reacted that way.


    "She¡¯s a second-year student. She¡¯s usually carrying a book, reading in the common room or the library, just like Granger," Parvati explained. "I never expected someone so quiet and gentle to be interested in Quidditch, let alone be such a good flyer.¡±


    Katie Bell was indeed an exceptional flyer. Since the tryouts had started, whether it was older students or her fellow second-years (first-years weren¡¯t allowed to try out), none of them could match her skill in the air.


    Even after Wood stepped in as Keeper, she managed to score two out of five goals.


    That wasn¡¯t easy. In an actual match, Chasers had to work together to break through the Keeper¡¯s defense. One-on-one, the Chaser usually had the disadvantage, especially considering Katie was only a second-year and Wood was a fifth-year.


    "Looks like it¡¯s her," Harry murmured, nodding. He could sense Wood¡¯s emotions shifting rapidly from frustration to sheer excitement. It was clear Katie¡¯s performance had exceeded his expectations.


    "We still have to find good talent among the younger students! Just like last year, when we discovered four promising first-years at once!"


    That was what Wood had thought at the time.


    But he soon realized that finding a standout player like Katie was rare, having four of them in one year, as they did the previous season, was nothing short of Merlin¡¯s blessing.


    The other second-years, however, performed even worse than expected.


    Harry and the others watching couldn¡¯t help but stifle yawns.


    "If the seventh-year doesn¡¯t compete, does that mean the fourth-year Seeker has to play?" Ron muttered. "He¡¯s awful. It looks like he couldn¡¯t catch the Snitch even if it landed right in front of him."


    "Ron, are you good at Quidditch?" Lavender asked.


    "Not really. Fred and the others won¡¯t let me borrow their brooms, and Charlie¡¯s old broom is practically falling apart," Ron pouted. But after saying that, he glanced at the fourth-year reserve Seeker practicing his speed drills.


    "But I think if I had the chance to practice, I could do better than him.¡±


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    No one knew if Ron was actually better than the fourth-year reserve Seeker, but it didn¡¯t really matter, first-years weren¡¯t allowed on the Quidditch team unless they received special permission from their Head of House. Ron doubted that the ever-strict Professor McGonagall would grant him that exception.


    After the trials, Harry caught up with Fred and George and asked them to buy some sweets for him. That was when he realized there was a time limit for Hogsmeade visits. The first open day of the year wouldn¡¯t be until mid-October.


    That left Harry feeling a bit awkward. It was only the beginning of September. Would he really have to wait an entire month to deliver the sweets he had promised Padma?


    Just as Harry was considering whether he could order some treats via owl post, and worrying about how he would handle his young snowy owl, Hedwig, he hadn¡¯t expected Fred or George to grin triumphantly.


    "But since our Gryffindor hero has made a request, we¡¯ll have to find a way. Don¡¯t worry, the sweets will be in your hands before dinner."


    "Huh? How are you going to do that?" Harry asked, skeptical.


    "Oh, that¡¯s a secret, Harry," one of the twins said with a wink. "When you become more interesting, we might consider letting you in on our grand cause..."


    "I dedicate my entire life to pranks!" the other twin declared, puffing out his chest with great enthusiasm.


    Harry: ¡°¡­¡±


    After paying two Galleons for enough sweets to feed five people, definitely more than enough, Harry politely declined the twins¡¯ offer to join their long and glorious career in mischief.


    Although Harry himself enjoyed a good prank, the level of dedication Fred and George had was a bit much.


    Still, when it came to keeping their word, the twins were nothing if not reliable. Before dinner, they had promised enough dessert for five people, but somehow, there was enough left over for fifteen.


    God knows well, Merlin knew how they had pulled that off.


    But Harry had a feeling that at least five school rules had been broken in the process.


    He confiscated almost a Galleon in change that the twins had mysteriously found. It was hardly appropriate to call it a tip, so Harry simply told them he might need their help in the future and would hold onto the money for now.


    Later, he and Ron delivered some sweets to the Patil twins and Lavender. As for the rest, they, of course, took them back to the dormitory to share with their roommates.


    It wasn¡¯t until all five boys were happily stuffing themselves with sweets that Harry suddenly realized.


    He had completely forgotten about Hermione.


    ----


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 Chapter 27

    [Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]


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    Harry felt that there was something mysterious about a boy at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy.


    Harry had no idea what went on in Malfoy¡¯s mind.


    People said he was a bully, like Dudley, but in truth, he didn''t intimidate other students that much. In fact, Harry once saw him being bullied by Rawlsus Prewett, a third-year student.


    If you claim he''s a bad student, that''s not entirely true, he excelled in Potions, and his grades in Charms and Transfiguration were decent as well. He just seemed a little bored during Herbology.


    What puzzled Harry the most was why Malfoy always made a point to approach him, no matter the situation. Every now and then, he would walk up to Harry and make a sarcastic remark.


    But whenever Harry actually stood up, snapped his fingers, and got ready to argue, Malfoy would always retreat quickly.


    Oddly enough, he was a good cook and enjoyed playing around.


    That was Harry¡¯s impression of Draco Malfoy, and it annoyed him a little.


    Fortunately, the only class Gryffindor and Slytherin had together in their first year was Potions, so their interactions were limited.


    When it was time for Potions class, Harry was slightly surprised.


    He had expected his conflict with Snape to continue in some way, it only seemed natural.


    But Hogwarts was a school of magic, so naturally, things were bound to be unusual. That said, neither Professor McGonagall nor any other teacher had changed their attitude toward him.


    The only thing that had changed was Potions class. And even there, the changes were completely different from what Harry had anticipated.


    During the lesson, Snape completely ignored him. He also ignored Neville, who was in the same group as Harry.


    However, Neville was at least better off, Snape still graded his homework. Even though he criticized it as if it were worse than dog dung, it was still better than Harry¡¯s assignments, which Snape never even acknowledged after they were handed in.


    Harry suspected Snape threw his homework away, or worse, used it for something less dignified. The parchment used at school was quite soft, after all.


    For a while, Harry considered giving up on his Potions homework entirely. But after much hesitation, he still felt that the knowledge belonged to him, and he didn¡¯t want to abandon it.


    So, he continued doing his homework as usual but asked Padma and Hermione to help him check it.


    Harry felt a little guilty about forgetting to share dessert with Hermione last time, he realized he had been a bit petty. After all, she was the first friend he had made at Hogwarts. To make up for it, he asked the twins to buy a small treat for Hermione.


    Harry had no idea how the twins managed it, but whenever he needed something, they could smuggle desserts or other items from Hogsmeade within half a day or so.


    Hermione seemed to have calmed down and was no longer giving Harry the cold shoulder. When he brought her the dessert and asked for her help with Potions homework, she hesitated for a moment before agreeing.


    However, Hermione still suggested that Harry apologize to Snape, but he didn¡¯t take her advice seriously.


    Compared to Harry, whose life was gradually getting back on track, his friends weren¡¯t as fortunate.


    First, there was Hermione, who had only recently resumed speaking with him.


    She was an academic prodigy with an incredible ability to learn. Even subjects that frustrated most Gryffindors, like Potions, and those that put everyone to sleep, like History of Magic, were effortless for her.


    But while she had no weak spots in her studies, she had no blind spots in her social life either, which was part of the problem.


    In just two weeks, she had managed to offend every girl in her year. None of them wanted to spend time with her, though Hermione mostly read books alone and didn¡¯t seem interested in socializing anyway.


    In fact, among the first-years, aside from Harry, Ron, and Neville, who had known her for some time, most students avoided interacting with her. Even Ron only talked to her when he needed help with homework.


    If Hermione¡¯s struggles were social, she didn¡¯t seem to care much. But Ron and Neville had a different issue, academics.


    Compared to them, Harry¡¯s performance across all subjects was decent, even slightly above average. While he wasn¡¯t top of the class, he wasn¡¯t exactly struggling either. But Ron and Neville were a different story.


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    Ron¡¯s grades in Charms and Transfiguration weren¡¯t great. He performed poorly in class and was often scolded by Professor McGonagall for his homework. As for Potions, he had already been reprimanded more than five times in just three lessons.


    Neville, however, was in an even worse situation than Ron.


    At least Ron¡¯s magic worked sometimes. Neville, on the other hand, couldn¡¯t get spells to work at all.


    So far, he hadn¡¯t successfully cast a single spell in class. He had to practice extensively after lessons before barely managing them. Even at that level, he was still struggling more than Ron, who was already a mess.


    His performance in Potions was decent, likely because he was in the same group as Harry. But History of Magic? A complete disaster. His memory was terrible, and he could never seem to recall the important details.


    Malfoy had actually performed quite well in Herbology. It wasn¡¯t obvious in the first week, and his work was average in the second, but by the third week, his extra points in class had even started to benefit Harry. Of course, there was no comparing him to Hermione.


    Beyond classes and homework, Harry devoted more time to meditation, mental shielding, and a technique he had accidentally discovered in the library, cerebral blocking.


    After attempting to learn this technique, Harry was surprised to find that it actually complemented his original mental shielding method to some extent.


    The Heart Shielding Technique functioned as a barrier that could block external prying eyes while also detecting when someone was watching him.


    In contrast, cerebral blocking lacked any detection ability, and its effectiveness in preventing intrusion seemed weaker than the Heart Shielding Technique. However, it had a unique advantage, it could create false thoughts.


    As the name suggests, it allowed a person to fabricate layers of deceptive thoughts to mislead an observer. At higher levels of mastery, it was even possible to construct multiple layers of thought.


    One layer, entirely fake, to fool simpletons. Another, appearing completely genuine but actually a false thought designed to deceive the more intelligent. An internal spiritual barrier could also be developed.


    This was fascinating.


    Moreover, Harry discovered that practicing these two techniques seemed to enhance his mental power significantly, more than meditation alone.


    After nearly two weeks of practicing these techniques, Harry noticed an unexpected change in his eyes.


    Or rather, Padma noticed it first.


    At the end of the second week of classes, while working on homework, essentially, receiving private tutoring from Padma, particularly in Potions, she suddenly remarked that his eyes appeared darker.


    Harry was puzzled. That evening, he carefully reread Occlumency and found a subtle note in an obscure section of the book. It stated that after reaching a certain level of mastery, emotions would become more restrained, the color of the pupils would darken, and it would become difficult for others to read expressions from the eyes.


    This description seemed oddly familiar.


    Harry pondered over it for a long time but couldn¡¯t recall where he had seen something similar before. In the end, he shook his head and let it go.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The hostility between Gryffindor and Slytherin was a conflict that had lasted for centuries. Naturally, Snape, the current Head of Slytherin, played a significant role in keeping that rivalry alive.


    Harry estimated that, sooner or later, he would end up in some Gryffindor-Slytherin clash himself.


    It was said that such incidents had occurred at least ten times throughout Hogwarts'' history. If Draco Malfoy kept provoking him like this, Harry was sure he could add another to the list.


    On Monday morning of the fourth week, after washing up, Harry checked his reflection in the mirror and noticed his pupils were slightly darker than the day before. He nodded in satisfaction, another sign that his Occlumency was improving.


    One additional benefit of practicing Occlumency and Heart Shielding was the quality of sleep. It felt as though his mind was completely at peace, and a single night of rest left him refreshed and energized throughout the day.


    When Harry entered the common room, he noticed a group of first-years gathered around the notice board.


    He squeezed through the crowd, accidentally bumping into Hermione, who was reading the notice. She shot him an annoyed look before shifting slightly to give him space.


    Harry wasn¡¯t particularly bothered.


    The notice was short and to the point:


    Flying lessons would resume on Thursday.


    This was hardly unexpected. Flying lessons were supposed to have started weeks ago, but Madam Hooch, the instructor, had been invited as a guest lecturer at a professional Quidditch club and had only just returned.


    The real issue bothering the Gryffindors?


    They would be having the lesson with the Slytherins.


    Harry had been looking forward to flying lessons for a while, though he was slightly concerned about getting his groin caught on the broomstick. What annoyed him more, however, was having to share the class with the Slytherins.


    The main reason?


    Draco Malfoy.


    He had boasted countless times about his flying skills, claiming to be an expert in Quidditch. Every time he told his stories, he described his thrilling flying experiences in great detail, how he narrowly dodged a Muggle airplane or some other flying object.


    Harry really wanted to roll his eyes.


    He had done his research on broomsticks. The best models on the market had a theoretical maximum speed of 300 kilometers per hour, which was fast enough to match slower helicopters.


    But that was only the theoretical limit. Even professional Quidditch players rarely pushed their brooms to such speeds. And as for avoiding airplanes?


    Commercial jets fly at tens of thousands of meters in altitude. Even helicopters produce powerful air currents that would make it nearly impossible for a broomstick to get close.


    "If he really had that kind of skill," Ron muttered privately, "he¡¯d already be on the national junior team¡¯s reserve squad."


    Although Ron and Harry were convinced that Draco was exaggerating, the fact that he bragged so much probably meant he was at least somewhat skilled at flying.


    Harry, however, had his own concerns.


    During breakfast, Harry was contemplating whether he should ask Fred and George if he could borrow a broomstick for practice when he was suddenly distracted by the laughter of several students nearby.


    Looking up, he saw Neville retrieving a small ball from a package that had just arrived via owl. He looked embarrassed as he held it in his hands.


    "It¡¯s a Remembrall," Ron grinned. Seeing Harry¡¯s confused expression, he explained, "Just hold it in your hand. If you¡¯ve forgotten something, it¡¯ll, well, you¡¯ll see."


    At that moment, a red mist swirled inside the Remembrall, and the ball glowed bright red.


    Neville sighed, not bothered by the laughter around him. Instead, he chuckled at himself and muttered, "Well, that¡¯s the problem, isn¡¯t it? I don¡¯t remember what I forgot¡­¡±


    ----


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