For dessert Harry got a small fruit cake.
James still hadn’t come home.
His work really did keep him busy.
Harry took his time with the meal, savoring every bite.
When he finally scooped up the cake, the soft, sweet flavor almost made him tear up.
This was real cake—light, fragrant, nothing like the dry, cardboard-tasting stuff the Dursleys forced on him.
Lily sat across from him, smiling over her tea as she watched her son enjoy every spoonful.
Petunia Evans walked over and handed Lily a cream-colored envelope.
“Madam, this invitation just arrived from the talent market.” “Thank you.” Lily set it aside without opening it.
Harry looked up.
“Mom, what’s the talent market?” “It’s basically a place to recruit skilled people—wizards with useful abilities.” Lily’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
“I heard you asked Sree why you don’t have any female servants.” Harry’s face went hot.
“I was just curious.” “It’s not allowed,” Lily said gently, setting down her cup.
“You can interact with the opposite sex, of course.
But servants handle too many private tasks.
Having the opposite sex around for those duties gets awkward fast—and it invites gossip.
That’s why we keep things separate.” “I really was just asking,” Harry mumbled.
“It’s fine.
Curiosity about the opposite sex isn’t a bad thing.” Lily laughed softly.
“Would you like to go shopping with me?” Harry remembered what she’d said yesterday.
“The commercial district?” Lily nodded.
“Go change first,” she said.
“This will be your first real formal event.
You need a proper suit.
We can’t have people thinking the Potters have fallen on hard times.” Harry glanced down at his current outfit.
Madam Malkin had loved it.
Why change?
“Mom, these clothes are fine.
They’re clean and everything.” “These are everyday clothes.
Fine for around the house, but not for formal occasions.
And they’re not safe enough.” Lily led him to the massive dressing room.
The moment she approached, dozens of wardrobes swung open.
Mannequins dressed in full outfits stepped out—every one built exactly like Harry.
“How about this one?” Lily pulled a sleek cashmere tailcoat-style suit and held it up.
The fabric felt incredible against his skin.
After Harry changed, Lily pinched his cheek.
“Wait here while I get ready, sweetheart.” She waved.
Petunia and several maids followed her into the next room.
Two full hours passed.
Bored, Harry fiddled with his magic ring and replayed everything he’d read in Magic Analysis.
Spells didn’t actually need words or wand movements.
If you could shape the magic the right way with just your mind, the spell would still form.
With the ring’s help, controlling his magic felt almost effortless.
Last night he’d failed at Reparo over and over.
Now it happened on the first try.
A soft glow appeared at his fingertip—the Reparo spell, ready to fire.
Too bad nothing in Potter Manor was broken.
His glasses here were perfect, nothing like the taped-up mess back at the Dursleys’.
No good target.
So he tried canceling the spell instead.
“If I just reverse it… pull the magic back to its original state?” He stared at the glowing fingertip and concentrated.
Two hours later he was still staring.
The formed magic felt like a tight knot—almost impossible to untie.
“Harry?
What are you doing?” Lily asked as she stepped out of the dressing room.
“I don’t have a target, so I’m trying to cancel the spell.” Harry didn’t look up.
He was so close—the knot was finally loosening.
“Why make it complicated?
Just relax a little and the spell will fade on its own.
Shaping magic into a spell takes effort.
Letting it go is easy.” Harry blinked.
His focus slipped—and the glow vanished instantly.
His face burned.
He’d overcomplicated everything.
Lily ruffled his hair.
“Relax.
Magic isn’t that hard.
Most of the time you just have to understand what you’re actually doing.” She smiled.
“Come on.
The car’s ready.
We should go.” Harry nodded and followed her, mind still racing.
An idea exploded in his head.
He raised his hand and formed another Reparo.
This time he pictured pulling a single thread from the center of the spell—like drawing silk from a cocoon.
The moment he yanked that core strand free, the entire spell unraveled on its own.
Tiny blue lights flickered in his green eyes.
A new thought hit him hard.
What if he did this to someone else’s spell?
Even a powerful curse protected by a shield—if he pulled out the most important thread of magic, would it just collapse?