Chapter Text
The day after was just as calm, with Harry taking a moment to lay in bed. It was still odd, having the freedom to do whatever he wanted. He thought about that, and how easily his life would have changed if he hadn’t cleaned the attic.
Where would his life have ended up if he hadn’t found his mom’s trunk? Would he have even been a Ravenclaw? Would he have even known he was a wixen? It was a bit intimidating to think about because one decision could have set him on a different path.
He was content with the path he was on. He was doing something he loved, even with all its difficulties, with people who cared about him. The Dursleys were a distant thing in the magical world. Something he never dwelled on too much.
The Dursleys wouldn’t be caught dead in any magical place. It was a comforting thought. He was safe in his inn room, with Iris and all his magical things. He could brew freely, eat whatever he wanted, and go outside whenever it struck his fancy.
He was free to do as he pleased and it was still a novelty. He was free to be anything in the magical world, and it was wonderful.
Iris had disappeared sometime during the early hours of the morning, but that wasn’t odd. She was free to do as she wished. Harry knew how much it sucked being stuck somewhere. Iris usually turned up after a little while, anyway.
She mostly looked smug, like she had caught the thing she’d been hunting. Harry was glad that she could exercise her freedom as she pleased, just like he could.
It took an entire day before she turned up. Harry had spent the day finishing his summer work, which was sort of boring. Charms was a revision worksheet, going over the stuff they had done during first year.
Herbology had been more entertaining. Professor Sprout wanted them to find a plant that interested them, and then write a six-inch essay about it. Harry had chosen Weeping Colwort, from Selen MacDougal’s book, because he had found the plant far too interesting.
He finished all of it after Herbology, and just in time for dinner. Mary, the chef that Harry had never had the chance to meet, had been experimenting. Some type of mushroom stew. It hadn’t been bad, but Harry wasn’t sure if he’d ever eat it again.
The barkeep was of the opinion that the stew was poisonous and terrible, but Harry had eaten some pretty dubious things so he didn’t care. Petunia had given him some old lunch meat that she’d found in the back of the fridge once, which had been gross.
The mushroom stew was just interesting. The types of mushrooms didn’t mix too well, nor did the thick alfredo sauce that Mary– the chef – had used. The garlic bread was great, though. Soft, but golden and flaky, with actual garlic smeared over the top.
Jasmine stardust tea remained the best thing ever, and Harry wouldn’t mind drinking it for the rest of his life. The swirling purple liquid looked like it had glitter in it, and wasn’t too sweet. It was only after Harry had gone back to his room that Iris appeared.
She came sauntering up, mouth full of something brightly colored and fuzzy. Her tail was raised proudly in the air as she waited for Harry to open the door. He did, and Iris trotted inside. She dropped whatever little creature she had captured onto the floor.
It was the size of a mouse, with fluffy bubblegum pink legs that faded darker as the color got closer to its body. Its body was a bright sea green, with its head being a darker green. It became obvious what it was when Harry crouched to get a closer look.
It was a spider. One he had never seen before, seeing as it was obviously magical. Where Iris had found it, Harry had no clue. There weren’t any magical spiders native to Britain that he knew of. He hadn’t ever seen a muggle spider that large, but that could be because the spiders he was familiar with only ever grew their abdomens to be smaller than his fingertips.
A few books of his had mentioned magical spider species, but that was mostly as ingredients. Like the acromantula that were native to the dense forests of Southeast Asia, or the arachnemedes that were native to the boreal pine forests in Canada.
There had been a few others, like one in America, but most didn’t seem to be anywhere near England. There had been a magical native spider species in Scotland, but they were banned as ingredients. It was illegal to sell, own, or buy them.
Unless Iris could teleport, which Harry had been seriously considering, he had no idea where the spider came from. It didn’t help that it looked nothing like any spider he’d ever seen. Acromantula’s and Arachnemedes were sensible colors, good for blending into their surroundings to catch their prey.
The one Iris was chewing on reminded him too much of cotton candy. Harry froze as the thought sunk in, staring intently at the spider. Perhaps Iris had found some sort of spider-shaped wixen candy? He moved closer, doing an odd sort of crab walk from his crouched position.
Much to Iris’s displeasure, and his own dubious thoughts, he reached out and poked the spider. It was a real spider, but a dead one. Its fur was surprisingly coarse, given that it looked so fluffy and soft.
He gave up when Iris kept eating it. He would find a book on magical spiders when he went to get his school things. If only to satiate his curiosity. He wanted to beat the flood of students and their parents, so he’d need to do it soon.
***
Diagon Alley seemed to be everchanging, with pop-up vendors, eye-catching magical displays to catch attention, and new items. Harry had thought he’d beaten the crowd, but it seemed something was happening at Flourish and Blotts.
The alley was busy, but it usually was. He had just hopped to beat the extra flood of Hogwarts students. The bookshop had been the first place he wanted to go, mostly to find a book on magical spiders.
The large crowd gathered outside the front of the store was off-putting and Harry didn’t want to deal with it. There were other bookstores he could go to. Flourish and blotts had what looked to be hundreds of people squished into the building.
He steered clear but watched for a moment. He was curious about what was happening. Two witches tumbled out of the crowd, fighting over a book with loud, screechy voices. They tugged on it in a war, voices loudly arguing.
Despite their yelling, Harry couldn’t hear them over the roar of the enthusiastic crowd. He frowned harder at the packed bookstore, curiosity tugging gently at him. He brushed it away, considering the other options of the alley as he stepped into Amanuensis Quills for some new ink.
He had enough quills, and had stalked up on paper when he started his summer schoolwork, so he was set with that as well. As he exited with his purchase, he decided to head to second hand books first.
The used bookstore was the most likely place that he’d find the curriculum books. Flourish and Blotts would have the newest copies, but Harry didn’t mind books that had a bit of damage. The booklist for second year was a lot longer than the one from his first.
It contained an entire series of books from an author called Gilderoy Lockhart. There were seven books in total, all titled about a magical creature. Plus the other second year books, like the standard book of spells, grade 2, or an instructional guide to potions, year 2.
The second-hand bookshop was easily found, near the end of the alley. Next to a few other second-hand shops, and an inn. Harry had most of the things he needed for his second year, anyhow.
Shopping shouldn’t take long. He didn’t really need new robes, but he’d buy them anyway. He would be going into the apothecary shops, because Potions, but other than that, and the books, he had everything he needed. He still had his telescope and all the other necessary potions equipment.
The second-hand bookshop was relatively empty save for a few people. One was a familiar boy, a prefect for Gryffindor. Percival Weasley, brother to the Weasley twins and Ronald Weasley was flipping through an ancient looking book.
He crept closer if only to get a glimpse at the title. The self-updating record of ministry laws and regulations: Vol 2, by Maxine Macmillan. He walked past, curiosity satisfied, looking for the section of the school books that they kept.
He was unlikely to find any of the Lockhart books, but he was sure Flourish and Blotts would clear out later. Harry found the section, nodding as another familiar student who was sitting on the floor, flipping through a fourth-year herbology book.
The older boy nodded back, smirking when he recognized him. “Avoiding the chaos at flourish and blotts, Potter?” He asked.
He nods,” Yes. The crowd is insane over there. What’s going on?”
The older boy shuts his herbology book, tucking it into his arms as he stands.”Book signing, I think. Some famous, pretty boy author.” Harry nods, waving goodbye as the boy saunters away.
The books were mostly piled on the shelf with no rhyme or reason, but she didn’t mind having to dig through them. It presented the opportunity to grab other books that he wanted. Like the third-year potions textbook, or Goshawks assortment of spells and charms, which wasn’t a school book, but was very helpful.
Harry found the four books she’d need, as well as two other interesting books, and went to check the other sections. Prefect Weasley was in the next section, four books piled at his feet while he flipped through another.
He barely spared Harry a glance as he slid by. He didn’t have any issues with the older boy, despite thinking he was a bit of a stick in the mud. Prefect Weasley was commonly caught in the Ravenclaw common room with Prefect Clearwater.
Harry reached for the first interesting book he saw, The Wizengamot and Why You Shouldn’t Join, by Carmichael Saradonith. It was a pretty bland cover regarding the words, but the color of it was the eye catching part, a shimmering gold.
He had wanted to learn more about the government system in the magical world, if only because he knew absolutely nothing. Sure there was the summon sense things like killing, and the potions related illegalities, but he wanted to know more.
One of the books he had gotten last year had barely anything to do with the government. Politics and Family Titles by Amanda Rookwood had mostly been about heirships, lordships, and the pureblood houses. Such as succession, how many years a house had to be ‘pure of blood’ before it could be considered a noble house, and other requirements.
He added the book to his small pile, bringing the total up to seven. He was unlikely to be able to carry any more, at least in his arms, so he went to buy them. In total, the seven books cost fifteen sickles, which was almost a galleon.
Prefect Weasley was right behind him with his pile of five books, which he didn’t linger around to hear about. He had to walk past Flourish and Blotts to get to the second, non-crowded bookstore. Whizz had books was an odd place, considering it was less of a bookstore and more of a publishing shop.
He had been inside it only twice before. It sold newly released titles and their most famous books, of course, published by the Whizz Hard company. He had half-hoped that they would be selling Lockharts’ books if only so he didn’t have to worry about them.
Seven books all by the same man sounded a bit excessive in his opinion, but he wasn’t one to turn down an interesting book. Hopefully, they were, otherwise it would be a waste of money. If Whizz Hard books didn’t have them, she’d have to just wait.
Obscurus books wouldn’t have them, as they were fairly new, and that shop only sold obscure to find titled, ones that usually bordered the line of legality, or so the rumors said. He had found some interesting books there, but that was likely because it was so close to knockturn alley.
“You take that back!” A man shouted, shoving another out of the door of Flourish and Blotts.
Harry didn’t catch much of either man, but she did see the one who had shouted and thrown a punch that knocked the other man to the ground. He gasped in shock, entirely unused to seeing wixen get into physical fights.
Usually, wands would be drawn and curses fired off. The entire situation was unusual, including that one of the men looked to be a pureblood. His robes gave him away, as did the long white hair that flung every which way as he defended against the other.
It seemed like everyone in the street was stunned at the sight, eyes wide and jaws dropped. Abrupt silence encased the area as all eyes focused on the two men fighting. It must have been a shock for them too, being wixen.
A woman burst out of Flourish and Blotts, hands waving through the air as she shouted at the men. “Stop it! Arthur Weasley, you stop it right this instant!”
The men paid her no heed, but Harry did. His attention had been snagged by her loud, screechy voice and violent hand motions. Weasley, Arthur Weasley in particular. He must be the father of the four Weasley that he knew.
The man who had punched the blonde-haired pureblood. He supposed that they were both purebloods, though the Weasleys were considered disgraced purebloods. He brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a snicker.
It was hilarious and strange to watch two grown men fight eachother. Mister Weasley had gotten the blonde man on the ground, and was straddling his waist as he wailed on him. It was an assumption, but he now knew where the twins and their younger brother got their troublemaking personalities.
Misses Weasely was likely where Prefect Weasley got his. The kids trailed out of the store, noticeably bewildered and shocked. Longbottom and the Grangers were with them. It was only when they saw that Mister Weasley was winning that they perked up.
On the other hand, Draco Malfoy, with his white blonde hair that seemed to match the other man’s, wore an expression of shock and fear. He had to clap a hand over his mouth as he finally pierced together who the other man was.
Lord Malfoy was losing at a fistfight, and honestly, it should have been expected. Harry was shocked that Mister Weasley even knew how to throw a proper punch. It was difficult to keep a straight face, so he sank further into the crowd to avoid being caught.
The fight was, objectively, hilarious.
Not so hilarious when Lord Malfoy finally managed to dig his wand out of his cane and went to cast a spell. It didn’t end in a wand fight, only thanks to a giant of a man by the name of Rubeus Hagrid. He was the groundskeeper at Hogwarts and rumored to be half-giant.
It was still pretty funny, in his opinion. Only because Hagrid had both men by the backs of their clothes, hanging like scruffed kittens. Misses Weasley and Draco Malfoy were not as entertained. Harry moved on with the rest of the crowd, not sticking around to listen to them speak.
Harry walked into Whizz Hard books and browsed around. It was obvious that they didn’t carry Lockhart’s books, as he hadn’t published with them. He wasn’t terribly surprised, but on the upside, there was a book called The Duty of Vultures by Maven Briar.
It was a fictional, fantasy series that Harry had heard about in the common room. Petrus Kama had been obsessed with the author since he had read her debut book, The secret of the mice. He had been raving about it to his friend Aiden Hidalgo.
Harry had been curious then, but he wasn’t one to read fictional books. Not as often as he read books about potions, anyhow. He had a bit of an obsession, but Padma was in the same boat with ancient runes and crafting.
Padma wanted to use ancient runes to make clothes, and other useful things. Her grandmother had a successful business in runed clothing, though Padma wanted to focus less on things like warmth and more on protection.
Blaise had his own form of obsession, though it was relatively minor, and about history. Harry had enjoyed speaking with them both about their interests, but he had never felt the sparks that he had for potions.
His book-shopping continued as he made his way to Obscurus books. It was past most of the shops, near Knockturn Alley. To get to the store, he had to pass every other store, including Flourish and Blotts.
There was a crowd still, though it seemed to have thinned enough that he could see inside the store. Gilderoy Lockhart was hosting a book signing of his books, it was an odd coincidence. Though Harry didn’t know anything about the publishing world, it might have just been promoting or something.
Gilderoy Lockhart was not what he had expected from the author of such a wildly successful defense against the dark arts books. Though, he supposed he shouldn’t judge people on their appearance.
He was like a peacock, flashing his feathers. His hair was sandy blonde, and gelled back, which reminded her strongly of Draco Malfoy. His robes were styled like a muggle suit but still had the wixen robes, which created an odd picture. He wore gold, with a white shirt and black detailing everywhere else.
Harry sped past, not wanting to get caught up in the crowd. Obscurus books didn’t have anything that he was looking for, but that was expected. Most of the books in the store were not something a second-year Hogwarts student should buy, as they were possibly illegal.
The books were on potions, except for one which was on the breeding of dragons. Dragon breeding was illegal, except for the professionals. Harry left the store to get lunch at a small cafe a few stores away.
The cafe was a quaint little place with pastel coloring and soft floral scents. The owner made most of the food, and the tea was good. Harry got a sandwich with spongy white bread with chicken, tomato, lettuce, and cucumber, along with some sort of sauce.
He finished his lunch, wasting some time as he sipped his tea and finished the chapter of The Secret of The Mice. The first chapter was interesting enough, but Harry didn’t like the main character much.
She reminded him far too much of Draco Malfoy, spoiled rotten and naive. He left the cafe after he finished the chapter, stifling the urge to start the second one. He held out hope that Flourish and Blotts had cleared out.
He could go the next day, but he wanted to have finished his shopping so he could do some brewing. Harry was attempting to be responsible, but it was a bit difficult. Luck seemed to be on his side as he arrived outside the shop.
There were still quite a few people, but he could manage. The book signing had ended and most of the crowd had dispersed, though a few wixen hovered around attempting to catch sight of Lockhart.
His discomfort settled like a blanket around his shoulders as he stepped into the store. A disgruntled, harassed worker was stationed at the check-out counter, being yelled at by a woman about something.
There was a long line behind the woman. Another employee was standing awkwardly in front of a crying little kid as the kid’s parents spat words at them. It was not a promising sight, and Harry did not want to get involved.
He slipped through to the Lockhart promotional table. The table looked like it had been ravaged. Most of the books were gone, except for Break with a Banshee, Wandering with Werewolves, and Voyages with Vampires.
Harry sighed but collected the books. He wasn’t going to look for the others it was too much work. He stepped into line, noticing that the woman who had been yelling had left. At the front of the line was a small family.
It didn’t take as long as he had feared, though Harry had still cracked open Maven Briair’s book to start the second chapter. He paid for the three Lockhart books, scowling at how expensive the three were, and left for Frost Bunny Inn.
Harry was relieved to have gotten all of the books he needed, as well as some he wanted. He’d go back for the rest of his shopping later, he had had enough for the day. The Barkeep, whom he still didn’t know the name of, greeted him with a cheery grin.
He smiled back but didn't stop to chat. He was tired and didn’t want to make conversation at the moment. All he had left was potion shopping, and that was his favorite thing. It was a plus. Most of the students would have already done their shopping, and so the shops shouldn’t be too crowded.