"Hogwarts?"
Harry repeated the word with a puzzled look.
He had already taken in quite a lot for one day. First, he realized he was in a wizard's house, then he'd gotten startled by a creepy doll, and now he'd just learned he was going to attend a magic school. If Uncle Vernon heard any of this, he'd surely snap back:
"Utter nonsense!"
But here Harry was, sitting next to a wizard who could make objects float.
"What is Hogwarts? Will the letter be mailed to my house?" he asked eagerly.
"Probably, but I'm not entirely sure," Viktor replied vaguely. "I'm a foreign wizard who just arrived, don't make it hard on me. Just wait a little. Sooner or later a professor from the magic school will come explain it all to you."
His bowl of oatmeal was now empty. After finishing, he picked up the napkin beside him, wiped his mouth, and tossed it into the clean washbasin nearby.
But just as Viktor threw the cloth, the porcelain teapot on the sink gave a sudden twist, its base indenting in the middle and popping out on both sides like two little feet. It jumped to the left, dodging the napkin.
The napkin slid down the wall and landed in the basin.
Then, the teapot tapped its little "toes" twice and calmly returned to its original position—as if nothing had happened.
"…Huh?"
Harry couldn't help but stare wide-eyed at the porcelain teapot.
It had a delicate gold star pattern on its body, but when he looked at it again, it was perfectly still.
Meanwhile, Viktor stood up after eating, getting ready to go out.
He pulled a black cloak over his shirt, then placed a pointed hat on his head, letting its brim shadow most of his face. He then slipped an old-fashioned pocket watch and a silver necklace into his pocket, and turned to Baba Yaga.
"Take your time eating, Granny Yaga. I'll bring back something new tonight."
"Alright," she rasped, releasing a croaky laugh that sounded like her windpipe was tearing open. She was still chewing on those strange red chunks.
Viktor was used to it. He waved at Harry.
"Let's go."
"But that teapot…"
"Ignore it. It's just a clean freak. And don't touch it—if you try with your greasy little hands, it'll slap you."
Harry quickly stifled his curiosity, nodding obediently. He did his best to accept that, in a wizard's house, a cleanliness-obsessed, self-moving teapot was completely normal.
"Where are we going?" he asked, eyes bright with curiosity.
"Knockturn Alley," Viktor said.
"The most well-informed wizards gather there. Someone's bound to know how to get to a Muggle area."
"You Brits are weird, though. You're not even allowed to use magic in front of non-magical folk. Where I come from, some countries have already put up posters marking which forests belong to witches and fairies—Muggles are expected to avoid them altogether."
He adjusted his hat as he spoke, ensuring it covered most of his face. Once satisfied, he dropped his hand and said,
"—Alright, let's go."
"Oh—okay."
Harry replied, dazed.
He had actually hoped to explore the house a bit more, to satisfy his curiosity about wizards. In fact, he was adjusting surprisingly quickly to the idea of magic—so much so that he already wanted to learn more.
But Viktor wasn't giving him the chance.
"Over here."
He beckoned to Harry. When the boy came over, Viktor placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him to a full-length mirror in the living room.
The mirror stood beside a window, reflecting the gloomy fog outside and the twisting, leafless branches.
As Harry stepped closer, the mirror captured their reflections. Compared to the scrawny little boy, Viktor looked even more intimidating. He stood at least six feet tall, and with his black cloak and pointed hat, he looked like one of those legendary dark wizards from medieval times—bringers of plague and death.
Are we checking our outfits before leaving?
Harry stared at the mirror, confused.
Apparently not.
Viktor stood in place and then spoke to his reflection in a low, gravelly voice Harry had never heard before—a voice that sent chills down his spine.
"Mirror, mirror..."
"Open the path to Knockturn Alley."
As he spoke, the white roses on the nearby table began to change color. Starting from their centers, each bloom slowly turned a deep, bloody red—one after another, until all of them became crimson.
Then, in the four corners of the mirror, something like blood began to seep from the antique frame…
Before Harry could process what was happening, Viktor pressed down on his shoulder and stepped forward with him.
The mirror's surface rippled like water. In an instant, it became a cold, liquid darkness that swallowed Harry whole, sending a chill up his spine.
When he opened his eyes again, everything had changed.
Voices echoed in his ears.
"Ding-ling-ling—"
A bell rang.
Then, a greasy voice from a hunched old man said, "Welcome, Mr. Vanderboom. Your appearances are always so... unexpected."
The man slowly walked forward, slicking back his shiny, close-cropped hair.
"Borgin," Viktor nodded in greeting.
Harry looked around.
He was in a strange little shop.
A musty, wooden-smelling shop.
Wooden display cases lined the walls, filled with eerie, witchy artifacts straight out of a horror story. In a glass box on a velvet cushion sat a withered human hand, a bloodstained deck of cards, and several glass eyes staring blankly into space. The walls were lined with grotesque masks—just like the ones Harry had read about in Dracula.
As Harry stared, the withered hand seemed to twitch. One long, gray, shriveled finger shifted slightly—making Harry's heart skip a beat.
This place was every bit the creepy, shadowy wizard shop it appeared to be.
But after seeing the weirdness of Viktor's house, Harry could still handle it. He was more curious than scared.
Honestly, if he weren't curious, he wouldn't have let Viktor drag him around in the first place.
Sure, Viktor was an adult—but mostly, Harry just couldn't help wanting to see more of this strange, magical world.
A whole world of magic!
He still didn't fully understand how the magical world worked. He knew he was still in England, that London existed, but there were also hidden places—like the Ministry of Magic and wizard settlements.
While Harry continued taking in the shop, Viktor had already made his way to Borgin and casually looked around before turning away, disinterested.
"Borgin, I'm here to sell something."