Harry left Gringotts still wearing his very much not subtle disguise, which was still preferable to being recognized as himself.
Better to be stared at like a complete weirdo than recognized as Harry Potter, he thought.
After sorting out his finances, his next step was dealing with a problem he had not even realized existed until yesterday: he knew almost nothing about the magical world.
Hogwarts was really missing some wizarding world introduction courses.
He did not know wizarding laws.
He did not understand inheritance regulations, property ownership, magical contracts, political factions, blood customs, or even basic social etiquette beyond “don’t insult people’s mothers unless you are prepared for consequences.”
For someone who had already spent two years at a magic school, Harry Potter was alarmingly uneducated about wizarding society itself.
Which was probably what happened when you spent most of the school year trying not to die because of whatever the local Dark Lord was doing this time.
So Harry’s next destination became obvious: the bookstore.
The moment he entered Flourish and Blotts, he immediately understood two things.
First, the place smelled amazing.
Old parchment, ink, leather bindings, dust, and magic blended together into something weirdly comforting.
Second, he was about to spend an irresponsible amount of money.
Harry wandered through the shelves with growing fascination.
Books on magical law.
Books on Ministry structure.
Books on magical customs and traditions.
Books about old wizarding families and social etiquette.
He even found an entire section dedicated to domestic magic.
Everyday magic spells such as self-cleaning charms, cooking enchantments, fabric repair, temperature regulation spells and preservation charms for food.
Harry picked up A Practical Guide to Household Magic and stared at it with something close to awe.
There were spells for folding laundry.
Wizards truly had their priorities sorted.
A notification appeared.
[Optional Quest Available!]
[Ignorance Is a Disease]
Description:
Your understanding of magical society is catastrophically inadequate.
Knowledge reduces vulnerability.
Books are among humanity’s greatest weapons.
Objectives:
Purchase educational material
Learn about magical society
Reduce likelihood of accidentally committing crimes
Rewards:
+50 EXP
Minor Wisdom Increase
Failure Penalty:
Continued incompetence
Harry snorted.
“Rude.”
Still accurate though.
Harry continued browsing and eventually, his attention drifted toward another shelf entirely.
Hogwarts electives.
Next year, he would need to choose additional subjects.
Originally, Harry had planned to take Care of Magical Creatures and Divination almost entirely because they sounded easy.
Or at least less likely to bury him under essays.
Now, however…
His perspective had changed slightly after discovering he possessed a magical system, a soul parasite, possible future enemies in half the wizarding government, and what appeared to be an increasingly strange magical destiny.
Maybe choosing electives based solely on minimum effort had not been the smartest long-term strategy after all…
So Harry began collecting books: introductory texts on Arithmancy, basic rune theory, creature-handling manuals, books on the practical applications of magical astronomy, and even a few texts on Divination, though the memories from the other world had left him deeply skeptical of the subject.
By the time Harry finished, he was carrying enough books to collapse a normal bookshelf.
The cashier took one look at the towering stack and immediately recommended an enchanted carrying bag.
Harry bought it almost instantly.
The thing looked like an ordinary dark satchel, but the interior possessed expansion charms while weight reduction enchantments made the contents feel dramatically lighter.
“Bags of holding” — apparently that’s what the foreign memories called them — were probably the best thing wizards had invented besides flying brooms.
After leaving Flourish and Blotts, Harry spent the next several hours wandering through Diagon Alley, purchasing things he abruptly realized were necessary and several things that absolutely were not necessary but looked interesting or cool.
Practical purchases came first: extra clothes, potion kits and ingredients, as well as a few ready-made potions.
Those were ridiculously expensive, though after remembering how troublesome brewing the Polyjuice Potion had been a few months earlier—and just how torturous Snape’s classes were, though that was mostly because Snape was Snape—Harry could understand why.
Some potions took ages to brew and needed constant attention, so of course they cost a fortune.
Even then, plenty of wizards still preferred buying them instead of wasting ungodly amounts of time making them themselves.
Honestly, that was probably how his grandfather had quadrupled the Potter fortune with his potion inventions in the first place.
After that came basic toiletries, emergency supplies, and other necessities.
The biggest purchase was the tent.
Harry stared at the display model with poorly hidden longing.
From the outside, it looked like an ordinary travelling tent.
The inside, however, was basically a small home.
Two bedrooms, a little kitchen, a sitting and dining area, and even a full bathroom, all running on magic.
It had temperature regulation charms, water purification enchantments, protective wards, basic anti-intruder spells, and Merlin knew what else.
For Harry, who had spent most of his childhood sleeping in a cupboard, the idea of owning a place that was safe, comfortable, and completely his hit a lot harder than he expected.
So he bought it.
Possibly too quickly.
“Sir has excellent taste,” the witch running the shop said cheerfully.
Harry suspected she said that to everyone spending absurd amounts of money, but still, he left feeling satisfied.
By midday, Harry Potter possessed: one magical tent, one enchanted coin pouch, one expanded carrying bag, several dozen books, a huge amount of supplies and absolutely no actual long-term plan.
That was big progress compared to yesterday.
The final stop of Harry’s increasingly expensive shopping spree was food.
A lot of food.
Bread, fruit, pastries, roasted meat, sweets, bottled drinks, and several things Harry bought purely because he had spent eleven years with the Dursleys and still had not fully processed the concept of being able or allowed to purchase snacks for himself.
The enchanted bag swallowed everything.
Harry was beginning to think expansion charms were the backbone of magical civilization.
Once finished, Harry left Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron and slipped back into Muggle London.
Dobby and Hedwig were waiting for him in a nearby alleyway, exactly where they had agreed earlier.
Hedwig perched atop a drainpipe looking regal and mildly judgmental as always, while Dobby stood beside several stacked shopping bags looking intensely alert despite his size.
The moment Harry appeared, both immediately relaxed.
Something warm stirred faintly through the familiar bond with Hedwig.
Relief.
Harry still was not used to that.
“Everything alright?” Harry asked.
“Yes, Harry Potter sir!” Dobby said brightly.
Hedwig hooted once in agreement.
Harry adjusted the strap of his enchanted bag and glanced around the alley.
“Dobby, can you take us somewhere isolated?”
The elf tilted his head.
“Isolated, sir?”
“Somewhere far from people.
Maybe near the coast.”
Dobby nodded seriously, then snapped his fingers and the world twisted.
Harry had only a second to clutch the bag tighter before apparition yanked reality sideways.
A moment later, they appeared atop a grassy stretch of coastline beneath the shiny gold of the midday sky.
Being magically dragged through what felt like a freezing straw full of electricity was never going to feel normal, Harry decided.
Harry looked around and blinked.
“…Woah.”
The sea stretched endlessly before them, blue waves crashing rhythmically against jagged rocks below.
Salt filled the air while cold wind swept through the grass surrounding them.
Most importantly: No people, no noise.
Just open sky and ocean.
Harry breathed deeply.
“Good choice.”
Dobby beamed proudly.
The elf immediately helped Harry set up the magical tent while Hedwig took flight overhead, circling lazily through the air before landing atop a nearby rock.
Once everything was arranged, Harry pulled out the food he had bought and began spreading it across the large blanket overlooking the sea.
Bread still warm from the bakery.
Roast chicken.
Pastries dusted with sugar.
Fruit, cheese, bottled drinks.
Honestly, it looked less like lunch and more like the aftermath of a highly successful raid on a bakery.
The salty ocean breeze tugged at the corners of the blanket while waves crashed rhythmically against the cliffs below.
“Come on then,” Harry said, sitting down cross-legged.
“Let’s eat.”
Dobby froze.
Harry noticed immediately.
“…What?”
The elf stared at the food as though Harry had just placed a dragon egg in front of him.
“H-Harry Potter prepared all this…”
“Yeah?” Harry answered slowly.
Dobby looked up at him with enormous watery eyes.
“…For Dobby?”
Harry blinked.
Then realization hit him.
Right.
Of course.
Harry really needed to stop unintentionally emotionally devastating this poor elf through basic human decency.
New life goal: punch Lucius Malfoy in the face.
To his amusement, a notification of a quest appeared, which he ignored for now.
“…For all of us,” Harry corrected quickly, gesturing between himself, Dobby, and Hedwig, who was already attempting to steal a piece of chicken with the shameless confidence of a predator that feared neither God nor man.
Dobby made a tiny strangled noise.
Oh no.
His eyes were watering again.
“Dobby has never—”
Harry reacted immediately, like someone spotting a bomb seconds before detonation.
“Okay, nope, don’t start crying again,” he said quickly.
“It’s just food.
People eat together all the time.” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Dobby pressed both hands over his mouth, shoulders trembling.
“Dobby apologizes!
Dobby is overcome with emotion!”
Harry sighed with weary exhaustion.
Somehow, he had become emotionally responsible for an unstable magical creature less than twenty-four hours after meeting him properly.
“It’s just lunch,” he repeated.
“To share food equally is a sacred act of companionship!” Dobby declared dramatically, lowering his hands as if delivering an ancient proclamation before a royal court.
Harry stared at him.
He genuinely could not tell whether that was a real elf custom or if Dobby was improvising nonsense on the spot.
Either way, the elf looked seconds away from crying directly into the sandwiches.
Hedwig, meanwhile, solved the situation by hopping forward, snatching an entire piece of chicken, and flying a short distance away to eat it.
“…See?” Harry pointed at the owl.
“Hedwig understands the concept perfectly.
Food.
Eating.
Normal activity.”
Hedwig gave him a deeply unimpressed look while tearing meat apart with her beak.
Dobby looked at the owl with visible awe.
“Such wisdom.”
They started eating the still-warm food, thanks to a few handy charms.
Harry was starting to understand why Charms had been his mum’s favourite subject.
Charms were brilliant.
The sea breeze carried away the lingering tension Harry had been carrying all day.
The sound of crashing waves mixed with distant gulls while sunlight danced across the water below the cliffs.
For the first time since leaving Privet Drive, things almost felt calm.
Then Harry remembered something.
“Right,” he said between bites of pastry.
“Dobby, did you find anything out?”
Dobby straightened instantly, nearly vibrating with purpose.
“Yes, Harry Potter sir!”
Earlier that day, Harry had sent Dobby to investigate wizarding lawyers.
Because if magical law existed—and it obviously did—then there had to be people specializing in it, and Harry desperately needed information before attempting anything involving emancipation, guardianship, inheritance, or challenging Dumbledore’s authority over his life.
What Harry had expected was a few names, maybe office locations.
What Dobby delivered sounded more like an entire intelligence report.
The elf snapped his fingers and produced a thick stack of parchment seemingly from thin air before launching into a report with terrifying efficiency.
“Three major solicitor associations operate in magical London, Harry Potter sir.
Twelve independent firms of respectable reputation.
Four specializing in inheritance disputes.
Two handling blood-adoption rituals.
One firm secretly advises several old pureblood houses despite publicly claiming neutrality—”
Harry blinked.
Dobby continued without mercy.
“—Solicitor Brimwell is Ministry-aligned and known to leak information.
Mister Crowley accepts controversial clients but charges enormous fees.
Barrister Vale publicly supports tighter creature regulations and therefore is bad.
Solicitor Wren dislikes Albus Dumbledore after losing a Wizengamot dispute in 1986—”
Harry paused mid-bite.
“Wait, what?”
“—And Advocate Pipworth bit a Ministry official during a legal argument in 1978.”
Harry stared.
“…I have several questions about that one.”
“Dobby could not determine who started the biting, Harry Potter sir.”
“That explains absolutely nothing.”
The elf nodded solemnly and continued sorting parchments into neat categories: Firm reputations, political leanings, known affiliations, past cases, connections to old families.
Harry slowly lowered his drink.
“…Dobby,” he said carefully, “this is incredibly detailed.”
Dobby puffed up proudly.
Harry was very impressed.
“You did great,” Harry admitted.
Dobby froze and then he looked moments away from spiritually ascending into the heavens.
Meanwhile, Hedwig gave Harry an offended look, clearly demanding equal praise despite contributing absolutely nothing to legal research.
Harry discreetly bribed her with another piece of chicken in the interest of maintaining household peace.
Then he looked back down at the parchments thoughtfully.
Wizarding law.
Inheritance.
Politics.
All things Harry had ignored before because he assumed adults handled them.
That assumption had clearly been a mistake.
“I’ll study magical law first,” Harry decided.
“Once I actually know what I’m doing, I’ll make appointments.”
Preferably, before accidentally signing away his inheritance, soul, or hypothetical firstborn child through some ancient magical loophole hidden in six hundred pages of cursed legal terminology.
Considering wizarding Britain, Harry honestly would not be surprised if all three were legally possible.