The wizarding street of Diagon Alley in London.
Around this time of year, the alley always became twice as bustling as usual, filled with student wizards buying their school supplies.
Considering the entire student body of Hogwarts numbers only around 500, one might wonder how crowded it could get. But with the wizarding population being so small to begin with, even that number was enough to make the street feel packed.
In any case, Harry and I were looking over the list of required supplies sent from Hogwarts, reminding ourselves that we had promised to meet our friends in the crowded alley.
As I reviewed the list, I tilted my head in confusion.
"What is this? Weren't these novels? Why are they on the required materials list?"
There, clearly printed on the list, was a selection of fiction titles.
*Breaks with a Banshee*, *An Escape from the Everyday with a Troll*, *Sailing with a Vampire*, and so on.
I had actually enjoyed these novels myself, thanks to their elegant prose, smooth narrative, and surprisingly thorough historical details. I was certain they were all written by the same author. What was his name… Gil, Gil… something Rocky?
Reading his books, I had even marveled that the wizarding world had finally produced a great literary master in the 20th century.
I have nothing against the books themselves, but why on earth were these novels on the Hogwarts supply list?
I turned to Harry, puzzled. "Harry, by any chance, are literature classes mandatory in 20th-century schools?"
"Uh, I don't know. Even if they were, I doubt Hogwarts would follow that rule."
"Right. Good point."
Unless the conservative minds at Hogwarts had decided to add a literary appreciation class to the curriculum for the first time in a thousand years, why would they be asking us to buy these books?
Harry offered the most plausible explanation he could think of.
"Um, maybe they're supposed to be used as reference materials in Defence Against the Dark Arts? You said the novels were historically accurate."
I scoffed, dismissing the idea. "Nah, that can't be it. No matter how well-researched, a novel is still a novel. That would be like making students read chivalric literature in a swordsmanship class."
"Haha, I guess you're right."
No matter how accurate the details, fiction was fiction. Unless Albus had gone completely senile, he would never hire a professor who intended to use such books for a Defence Against the Dark Arts class, right?
…He hasn't gone senile, has he?
The image of Albus that popped into my head made me slightly uneasy, but surely even he had his limits.
At the time, I truly had no idea.
*
A few hours later, the sun blazed high in the sky, signaling it was noon.
Before meeting our friends in Diagon Alley, Harry had felt the need to withdraw some money, so we had first made our way to Gringotts.
Guided by a familiar goblin—Griphook, I believe his name was—we were led to vault 781, once again riding the rattling mine cart down to the underground chambers.
Unsurprisingly, despite two incidents having already occurred, the security system remained utterly unchanged.
A sudden question came to mind, and I asked Griphook, "It's Mr. Griphook, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. I am surprised you remember."
I asked the goblin, who maintained an impassive, business-like demeanor, "I have a question, if you don't mind."
"By all means."
"I heard that vault 731 was broken into last year. Was the owner compensated?"
At my words, a crack appeared in Griphook's expressionless face.
While the time I attacked—no, *consulted* for—them had been pinned on Malfoy, the more recent incident was undeniably Gringotts's fault.
I had clearly touched a nerve. The muscles in Griphook's face twitched as he suppressed his annoyance before finally speaking.
"…The vault was empty at the time, so there was no obligation for us to provide compensation."
"So if a theft occurs from a vault that contains valuables, you do provide compensation?"
"Such a thing would never happen, but yes. We do."
*Hmm,* I thought to myself with a nod.
If we ever found ourselves short on money, robbing Harry's vault and collecting the compensation didn't seem like a bad option.
After all the consulting I'd done for them, if they still hadn't made any improvements, that was Gringotts's fault.
As Griphook, completely oblivious to my thoughts, managed to school his features back into a neutral mask, Harry emerged from the vault.
He carried a rucksack full of gold coins. "I'm ready."
I took the rucksack from Harry and placed it in my own bag, which was enchanted with a storage spell.
"Alright, Harry. Let's go."
Harry looked at my face and asked with a strange expression, "…Master, what are you thinking about?"
*Has he already learned Legilimency? No, that can't be it.*
Leaving Harry with his small suspicion, we returned to the surface level of Gringotts.
The people we were supposed to meet had already arrived.
There was a red-haired man restlessly tapping the marble floor with his heel, and a couple standing with Hermione at one of the exchange counters.
It was obvious who belonged to which family.
We approached the red-haired man first.
"Hello," Harry said. "Are you, by any chance, Mr. Weasley?"
The man, who had been anxiously tapping the floor, snapped his head up and looked at Harry. His face broke into a welcoming smile.
"Oh, dear! My apologies, I was so distracted I didn't even see you arrive. Yes, I'm Arthur Weasley. You must be the Potter brothers!"
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Weasley."
"Please, just call me Arthur. I've heard a lot about you from the kids. Ah, Molly and the children are inside getting money from the vault now. They should be out in about thirty minutes."
Arthur gave a wry smile, explaining that because their family was old, their vault was located inconveniently deep underground, despite their lack of wealth.
"Anyway, it'll take a while for them to come up, so let's wait here together."
"Thank you for your consideration, Arthur."
Meanwhile, Hermione, having overheard our conversation with Arthur, peeked out from the exchange counter and spotted us. She came running over, calling out, "Harry, Aisen!"
The Granger family turned to look at us as well.
They greeted us warmly, but only for a moment.
Hermione grabbed our cloaks with a smile, but I could feel her gritting her teeth behind it.
"Did you have fun ignoring all my letters?"
*No! I already explained it wasn't my fault! I wrote back to all of them, too. This is so unfair.*
The Grangers walked over, smiling at us.
"Oh, so you're the ones our daughter has been writing to so much! You must be Aisen and Harry, is that right?"
"We've never seen her write letters so diligently before. We were worried she wouldn't make any friends when she said she was going to a magic school!"
"Dad!" Hermione blushed and nudged her father with her elbow.
Then she turned back to us, her tone still tinged with a hint of pique. "So, where is this place you said had an animal to recommend for me?"
"The Magical Menagerie. It's about a ten-minute walk from Gringotts."
For the record, this was another shop I had owned back in the 19th century. Back then, it was called Brood and Peck, but it seemed they had changed the name to something more straightforward.
Or maybe the owner was no longer named Peck. In any case, a hundred years was more than enough time for someone to retire and pass on their business.
Hermione's eyes sparkled. "Can we go now?"
"Now? The Weasleys haven't come out yet."
Arthur smiled. "Oh, just go on ahead. We don't know when they'll be out, and it's better than waiting around the whole time, isn't it?"
"Really? Then let's go, Harry. Hurry."
"Ah, if you're going to the Magical Menagerie, I think I'll sit this one out…" Harry said, looking troubled.
"Hedwig is a bit possessive… She throws a fit if I come back smelling like any other animal besides Ardeura."
He grumbled about how she had given him a hard time after he'd met the Cerberus.
And so, it was decided that only Hermione and I would make a quick trip to the Magical Menagerie.
"This way."
As Hermione followed my lead, she asked, "By the way, Aisen, did you also get Ardeura from this place?"
"Hmm? Ardeura? No, I didn't get her from anywhere. She was a wild bird I met near Hogwarts."
Hermione gave me a meaningful smile. "Is that so? That's strange. If I remember correctly, I definitely saw Ardeura on the Hogwarts Express before we even got to school."
*Oops.* I had answered without thinking and slipped up.
Still, a small mistake like that wasn't enough to corner me.
"Well, I was born a wizard. I'd been to the Highlands near Hogwarts before I was even enrolled."
My answer seemed to leave Hermione with some lingering suspicion, but she didn't press any further.
I smirked and countered, "By the way, Hermione, you haven't forgotten that you lost our bet, have you?"
As expected, that was effective. Hermione flinched.
"Of-of course not. So, what are you going to make me do?"
"That's something I'll have to think about."
As we chatted, we soon arrived at the Magical Menagerie. The atmosphere was a bit eerie, and Hermione asked, "…Aisen, are you sure this is the right place?"
"Of course. Hurry up and come inside."
The shop was always dark. That's because a surprising number of magical creatures are nocturnal. Just look at owls and cats, the most popular pets for wizards—they're both nocturnal. It's all because they evolved to avoid the eyes of Muggles.
Hermione pushed the door open, triggering a tinkling bell, and called out cautiously, "Is anyone here?"
But there was no answer from the counter. It was a rather frightening situation for a twelve-year-old Muggle-born girl to handle.
All sorts of things can happen in a shop full of magical creatures.
For example, something might fall off a shelf.
"Aah!"
Hermione let out a short scream and collapsed to the floor. An ugly cat with golden fur stood on her back.
Trembling, she asked, "A-Aisen, I think something's on my back. It's heavy!"
A mischievous impulse took hold of me. "Be careful, Hermione. It looks like a dangerous animal. If you stay like that, something might start flying out of you!"
"Wh-what did you say? Ugh! G-get it off me!"
I grabbed the cat off the back of the fear-frozen Hermione with both hands.
Hermione, barely able to move her eyes, finally saw her attacker's identity. Her expression changed in an instant. "It's just a cat! What's so dangerous about it?!"
"Well, for someone with allergies, it might be more dangerous than a wild beast."
Hermione slapped my arm in response. A few moments later, a shop assistant appeared and helped her. In the end, she chose a pet and walked out of the store, beaming.
For the record, the animal Hermione chose was that very same ugly cat.
She insisted that it had chosen her. She certainly had a side that was hard to understand.
Upon closer inspection, I saw that the cat had Kneazle blood. Kneazles are cat-like creatures famous for choosing their owners, so it was possible it really had chosen Hermione.
On our way back to Gringotts, Hermione suddenly gasped at something she saw. I turned my head to see what it was.
*Author Book Signing?*
While I was puzzled, Hermione was bouncing on her feet, unable to contain her excitement.
"Oh my gosh, it's a book signing for Lockhart! A chance to see him in person!"
I gave her a look that said, *Who?*
Hermione blushed. "You know who he is! The author of our textbooks!"
*Textbooks? Ah. Those novels.* So the author of those books was holding a signing right here?
My interest was piqued. "I was curious about that author, too. Should we go?"
"But our parents are waiting at Gringotts…"
I said to Hermione, who still lacked the proper Gryffindor spirit, "Hermione, it's easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission."
"Aisen, that's not a good attitude to have… But I guess you're not wrong."
For a moment, she looked scandalized, as befitting a model student. But then she nodded in agreement, as if accepting that, just this once, it was the right thing to do.
Then, an excited Hermione grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the book signing.
"…Harry?"
And there, at the event Hermione had dragged me to, I saw Harry being held by a handsome, blond-haired man.
*What in the world is he doing over there?*
***