Harry was laying in his bed, not looking very happy. His arms were crossed and his face was glaring at the ceiling.

It had been a week since the school year had ended and Harry had come back to the Dursleys. So far, things weren't much different from the previous summer. The Dursleys seemed to have taken into avoiding him, which left him with nothing to do, not even chores. Harry didn't know if it was better or worse. True, he didn't have to work tirelessly for the Dursleys but it left him with nothing to do, which utterly bored him. If he had chores, it would have at least given him a way to pass time. He couldn't even talk to his friends to distract himself!

Once again, Harry had received no letters from his friends, although he knew they had a good reason not to. Ron and the Weasleys were in Egypt while Hermione and the Grangers were in France. Neither had their own owls and Harry was forbidden by the Dursleys to use Hedwig to send letters. The only saving grace was that Harry had been allowed to keep his school stuff in his room rather than having it locked in the cupboard under the stairs.

But, even then, things at Number Four Privet Drive were still boring. Not really having better things to do, Harry had already completed all of his homework. Deep down, he imagined how proud Hermione would be of him. He imagined Hermione looking proud, squeaking in happiness while taking him in a hug and kissing his cheek. He wasn't sure why but the mere image of it made his face burn. Harry wished he could be with Hermione in France.

Harry turned in his bed and his eyes found his trunk. He looked at it, or, rather, the three broomsticks attached on it. They were the Nimbus 2000 he had received from Professor McGonagall at the beginning of his first year and the two broomsticks Hermione and him had enchanted. The Potter Mark I and the PMK-2 Robin Prototype, which Harry simply refered to as the Mark II. Looking at the broomsticks, he remembered something from when he had arrived here earlier in the week. It made him chuckle.

As Harry took his trunk out of his uncle's car and dragged it inside the house, his Aunt Petunia had looked at the Mark I and Mark II. Of course, his aunt didn't really know what they truly were so all she had seen were two, old and dirty brooms dragged inside her clean and spotless house by her worthless nephew. Petunia had looked at the brooms as if they were about to explode at any second. The thought of it made him chuckle.

The broomsticks were another entire matter by himself. Harry longed to be able to enchant his first PMK-3 Ravenstar. The problem was that, as long as he was staying in Privet Drive, he wouldn't be able to do so. With Ron and Hermione scheduled to come back in the country in late August, Harry knew he was stuck here for a long time. He was very tempted to go to Diagon Alley and rent a room for himself. He knew that if he stayed in Diagon Alley, Harry would be able to do magic here. Dobby had told him so himself before Harry left Hogwarts.

A few days after Harry had killed the Basilisk and saved Ginny's life, Dobby had popped in his dorm room and told him that he had been hired by Dumbledore to work at Hogwarts. As he congratulated the elf, Harry remembered how it had all begun, with Dobby doing magic in Privet Drive. Yet, Harry hadn't done the magic, so why had it been detected as coming from him? Harry had asked the question to Dobby and the elf had answered.

"Because the Ministry is not knowing who is performing magic, Harry Potter! Ministry is only knowing where magic is performed and Harry Potter was the only wizard there!" had said the elf.

It was how Harry had learned that the Trace could be bypassed if you were around many adult magicals. He had then proceeded to tell Ron and Hermione. Ron had been amazed and happy to learn that fact while Hermione had been utterly furious.

"The Trace only punish muggleborns or raised! Underage students who live with magical relatives won't ever be pushed because the Ministry will assume it's an adult that produced the magic!" he had said furiously. Harry couldn't help but agree with her. He didn't know why the idea hadn't crossed his mind.

Harry wondered if he would be able to leave Privet Drive early, even if he wouldn't stay at anyone's home. He wished he could answer in the affirmative but he just didn't know.

Harry heard a hoot – or rather a 'bark', as he corrected himself – coming from his window. Looking up, Harry saw Hedwig looking at him. She had a pondering look, as if she was wondering why Harry wasn't using her to send letters to his friends. Harry gave a small roll of the eyes. Of course, Hedwig was more than intelligent enough to realise he was missing his friends. He gave a small sigh. He wished he could send letters.

'But... then again... why can't I? What is stopping me?' he asked himself. Of course, he knew that the Dursleys had forbidden him from sending letters but it's not like they were constantly watching out for Hedwig to see if she had a letter or not. Smiling mischievously to himself, Harry raised from the bed and walked toward the small desk sitting by the window. He sat on the chair and took out a sheet of parchment, a quill and a pot of ink. He decided to send a letter to Hermione. He began writing.

Dear Hermione,

How are you? I'm sorry if I didn't send a letter earlier but my relatives forbid me to use Hedwig to send correspondence. Of course, I'm still forbidden but you know me, it won't stop me. As long as my letters are infrequent, it should be fine.

How is France? I wish I could visit our French neighbours with you. Privet Drive is completely boring. I even completed all of my homework already! It's that boring. I have nothing better to do than read and read again my school books. I almost miss the time when my aunt and uncle would give me an impossibly long list of chores. Of course, some of the reading is rather fascinating, especially on the witch burnings from centuries ago, the subject of our History of Magic homework. I thought it was rather interesting how witches and wizards would drink potions that would nullify the effect of fire on their bodies and pretend to be burned.

Wow, I sound almost like you! Joking, don't be mad at me!

Hey, I was wondering. Do you know of a way to go to Diagon Alley without using the Floo Network (or broomsticks, for obvious reasons)? I just can't stay coped up in Privet Drive, doing nothing. I reckon that if I do, I'll go mad. Also, it might allow me to bypass the Trace and enchant PMK-3 Ravenstars. I should go to Gringotts and see precisely how much money I have and then create a business account for the Potter Broom Company, now that I think of it.

With love,

Harry.

PS: Hedwig is looking at me with a knowing look. I don't understand why...

Harry reread his letter and gave a satisfied nod. He wasn't exactly sure why he had signed with "With love," but it felt natural to do so. Harry sealed the letter before giving it to Hedwig. Like he had indicated in his post scriptum, Hedwig was looking at him with a knowing look, and Harry didn't really understand why. He shrugged to himself. It didn't really matter.

Hedwig took the letter and quickly flew out of the house. Harry chuckled. If he didn't know better, he would almost think that his dignified and proper owl had been excited!

Harry went back to bed and laid down once again. As he looked at the ceiling, he began counting the remaining days before he would go back to Hogwarts and see Hermione and Ron again.

Hedwig arrived back to Privet Drive five days later, to Harry's delight. Harry had just woken up that morning when Hedwig had arrived. The snowy owl landed on Harry's arm, allowing him to detach the letter. Since Hedwig looked tired, he dropped her off on her perch, in front of her water tray. Hedwig let out a small, grateful bark before she began drinking.

Harry looked down at the letter. There it was, on a paper envelope, Hermione's handwriting. Harry felt his heart warm up and he opened the letter.

Dear Harry,

France is really exciting! I also wish you could have joined us. You would have loved it. I learned loads about Magical France! My parents and I even visited the Place Cachée, the French equivalent to Diagon Alley, in Paris! It's a lot bigger than our Diagon Alley! Did you know that the name means "Hidden Place" in French? I thought it was interesting. I left with this letter two pictures my parents took while we were in Paris, including one in Place Cachée.

I'm really proud you already completed all of your homework! I wish I could hug you! I know you and Ron had mentioned that you had studied more in the last month of school but I didn't completely believe it until you told me all your summer homework was complete. I'm sorry if it offends you, I'm just used to you spending more time working on the broomstick programs than on your homework. By the way, did you begin the development of the Mark IV? I have some improvements ideas I want to try out once we are back at Hogwarts.

I myself completed most of my summer homework already. Just like you, I thought the History of Magic homework was very interesting. Did you know that Wendelin the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that she purposefully got herself caught as a witch forty-seven times? I thought that was crazy! She definitely earned her nickname, in my opinion.

For your question about methods of travels, I know that apparition is a possibility but we don't learn this until our sixth year. I asked a similar question to Ron earlier in the year and he told me about something called the Knight Bus. Apparently, all you have to do is stick your wand in the air just like if you were hailing a muggle bus or taxi with your hand. If Ron is right, a purple triple-decker should appear and you can use it to travel, using a small fee.

As for Gringotts, I agree that opening a vault for the business would be a good idea. I spoke with my parents about managing a business, since they have one of their own: their dental practice. My father was wondering at first why I was interested until I told him about the Potter Broom Company. My parents were quite shocked when they learned that you had founded your own company at twelve, especially once I told them that I was co-owner. My dad then gave me a long business lecture, which helped me learn loads.

A bank account for the business would be great, especially once we begin to sell our broomsticks. The money of the sales would have their own place to go. It will also be helpful once we begin hiring people to help us enchant the brooms. After all, we can't just do it ourselves, especially not if it takes a few hours for each. You did say it yourself that it took you and Madam Hooch about five complete days in total to enchant thirty PMK-2 Robins, and the Robins are still relatively simple to enchant!

Anyway, I can't wait to see you again! If you go to Diagon Alley to enchant broomsticks, make sure that nobody sees you. I don't really want to encourage you from breaking the rules but... well, the Trace is bullshit.

With Love,

Hermione.

Harry choked in surprise and began laughing. He had never heard Hermione say a profanity, much less write it. Her calling the Trace 'bullshit' completely surprised him. He thought it was very hilarious.

Once he had stopped laughing, he began reading the letter a second time, going point by point. Harry was glad Hermione enjoyed France. He wondered on the name "Place Cachée" for the French Diagon Alley. The name didn't really seem original at all. He hoped he wouldn't have this lack of imagination and originality when naming the future Potter broomsticks.

At the mention of photos, Harry grabbed back the envelope and opened it. Two small polaroid pictures fell on the desk. The first one showed the three members of the Granger family in Place Cachée. As Hermione had described, Place Cachée looked much bigger than Diagon Alley. Just the main road was about three times as large as the one in Diagon Alley. Harry could even see cars parked on the side of the road! Just this sight told Harry that the French people seemed more open to the muggle world than their British counterparts. Harry didn't even know who, apart from Mr. Weasley, owned a car and even then, Mr. Weasley had only got his' because he wanted to learn how it worked and enchant it.

The second picture showed Hermione standing in front of the Arc de Triomphe, in Paris. Hermione was beaming at the camera. Harry thought she looked really cute in her outfit.

'Wow, cute? Where did that come from?' he asked himself. Yet, looking at the picture, he couldn't deny he was right. Hermione looked as beautiful as the sun itself. Harry groaned. What was going on inside his mind?

Shaking his head, he turned back toward the letter. Harry was happy that Hermione was proud of him, especially when he read that she wanted to hug him. The thought made his stomach do summersaults. 'Again, what is going on?' he asked himself before he began reading again. Hermione hadn't truly believed he had become studious until he told her he had completed all of the assigned homework, and apologised in case it offended him. It didn't. Harry could understand why Hermione had reservations. Like she had said in the letter, Harry had spent most of his free time either working on the Mark II and Mark III or goofing off with Ron than his homework or studies. This had changed after Hermione had been petrified by the Basilisk. While he would be working on the Mark IV during the upcoming school year, Harry doubted that he would stop studying as much and revert back to how he had been before. After all, studying more meant more time spent with Hermione, something he hadn't realised meant so much to him until she had been gone for a month.

Harry then read the passage on methods of travel. When he read about the Knight Bus, he almost jumped from his chair in cheerful exclamation. That was exactly what he needed! With the Knight Bus, he could travel to London every day and back as much as he wished! He could kiss Hermione for this!

Wait! Kiss ? That's when it hit him. 'Am I starting to fancy Hermione?' he thought. Yet, as he asked himself the question, he already knew the answer.

Yes.

His feelings toward Hermione made more sense, now. He hadn't recognised them, at first, but he understood now what it means. Harry was falling for his female best friend. He wasn't completely sure at first if it was true but then the image of him and Hermione kissing crossed his mind and Harry knew he had fallen hard. He blushed as he imagined what a kiss from Hermione would feel like. Yet, it was also depressing to think about. After all, there was no way someone so great like Hermione could like him, no? Instead of putting himself in a melancholy, Harry turned back toward the letter.

Hermione believed that creating a business account at Gringotts for the Potter Broom Company was a good idea. It only strengthened his resolve to find a way to go to Diagon Alley during the summer. Hermione's suggestion to hire people to enchant broomsticks was also a good idea. It was true that Harry and Madam Hooch had taken five full days to enchant thirty broomsticks, which had happened each Saturday of the week during the month of May. In five full days, Harry had managed to enchant fifteen broomsticks by himself.

Now that he thought about it, Harry could do the same this summer. Spend a whole week – seven days – working only on enchanting broomsticks, before selling them to a shop like Quidditch Quality Supplies, in Diagon Alley. He also got the idea of buying a publicity spot in the Daily Prophet. Maybe he could hire his friend Dean Thomas to design a logo for the Potter Broom Company, since Dean was really good at drawing. Before he could do that, however, Harry needed to buy parts for his broomsticks and before that, he had to go to Gringotts.

Harry went to change. He wanted to visit Diagon Alley today, so he had a long day ahead.

Harry walked away from Number Four Privet Drive, his wand in his hand. Once he was far away from the Dursley house, Harry pointed his wand in the hair and made a small movement.

BANG!

Harry almost threw himself on the ground as the sound. For a small moment, he had believed that something had exploded. It wasn't until he saw the big three-decker purple bus that he understood what had happened.

A man with a purple uniform, a bald, shining head and a dense black beard leapt out of the bus. He then began speaking in a resigned voice. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard! Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Rich Rogue and I will be your conductor this morning."

Harry started at the man. "Do you have to say this every time someone call for the bus?" he asked.

"Yeah." said Rich Rogue, a small whine in his voice. "So, you coming onboard?"

"Huh, yeah, thanks." said Harry as he and the conductor climbed.

"What's your name?" asked Rich.

"Huh... Harry." answered Harry with a slight hesitation. Rich's black eyes glanced at Harry's scar, which immediately pushed Harry to try to hide it behind his hair.

"Well, Harry," said Rich. "Where do you want to go?"

"Diagon Alley, please." answered Harry.

"That will be eleven sickles for the ride. If you wish, for four sickles more, you get a bottle of orange juice."

Harry blinked. "Orange juice?"

"Yep. We offer orange juice during the morning, lemonade during the day and hot chocolate during the night."

"That's good to know." said Harry as he gave fifteen sickles. Rich gave him a small and cold bottle of orange juice, which looked as if it had come out of a muggle store, before he yelled "Hear that, Jacques?" to the driver. "We're going to Diagon Alley!"

"Heard that alright." grumbled Jacques as Harry put the bottle in his pocket. The man had a faint French accent. "I have good hearing Rich, you know?"

"True, true." nodded Rich as Jacques took the wheel and began driving. With a loud bang, the Knight Bus changed locations.

"Where are we?" asked Harry, sitting on one of the seats at the front.

"We were near Dover before you called us." said Rich.

Harry thought that the ride was very bumpy and very fast. Thankfully, the driver seemed to be a pro at his job as the bus never once collided with anything. As if reading his mind, Rich said "It's a good thing you didn't use the bus at night."

"Why not?" asked Harry.

"The driver and conductor on the night shift are..."

"Bloody lunatics, that's what they are." interrupted Jacques as he drove around an expensive car. "The bus is charmed not to crash into things, you know? Even with the charms, they somehow manage to crash into objects from time to time. It's lucky they never ran over someone. They keep getting complains every bloody night."

"The conductor, he's barely out of school. Stan, I think his name is." said Rich. "He's insufferable. The kid seems to think that the Knight Bus is a game. He enjoys seeing people become sick during the ride. The driver, Ernie, is bloody dangerous. Sometimes, I wonder why he didn't just go to the muggle world and become a racing driver."

"Probably because he wouldn't last a lap around a circuit." said Jacques with a laugh. "He would take out all of his opponents and get black-flagged."

"Too true." chuckled Rich. "Every morning, Jacques and I arrive to the depot, wondering if we will find the bus in more than one piece."

"Why do they still have a job, then?" asked Harry as the bus turned a sharp corner. Harry had to hold on a pole to avoid being thrown off his seat. He really wondered how Rich managed to keep standing.

"The boss likes them." answered Jacques. "Anyway, we are arriving at the Leaky Cauldron shortly, Potter."

Harry's eyes widened. "How do you know..." began Harry but he was interrupted by Rich and Jacques, who both snorted.

"It's not hard to figure out who you are." answered Rich.

"That and the bus has charms telling you who entered." laughed Jacques. "Help avoid having invisible witches and wizards sneaking in behind their friend."

The Knight Bus began slowing down and stopped in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry could see through the windows that no muggles had noticed the giant purple three-decker stop near them.

"How..."

"The bus is invisible when driving. When stopped, it is charmed with a muggle notice-me-not charm." answered Jacques.

"Well, thank you for the ride, then." said Harry as he climbed down the bus.

"No problems, Harry Potter, and farewell!" said Rich. The bus began accelerating and, with a loud bang, disappeared from Harry's very eyes. Harry stared at where the purple three-deckers had been for a few seconds before he shook his head and entered the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry entered Gringotts and put himself in one of the lines, waiting to talk to a teller. After nearly thirty long and boring minutes, Harry managed to talk to a goblin.

"Next!" said the goblin. Harry walked forward. "Name?" asked the goblin grumpily.

"Harry Potter." answered Harry. The goblin's eyes glanced at his scar before it reached for something under the counter. He took out what appeared to be a blue piece of parchment and a small knife. Harry gulped; his eyes wide open.

"You'll understand, wizard, if we want to verify your identity. Put a few drops of your blood on the parchment, which will reveal your identity. If you aren't Harry Potter..." said the goblin with a sadistic grin.

Almost trembling, Harry took the small knife and cut the tip of his finger. A few drops of blood fell on the parchment and his finger suddenly healed itself. The sheet turned red, then purple, then blue again. The drops of his blood moved to form a small text.

Harry James Potter

31/07/80

Father: James Fleamont Potter

Mother: Lily Rose Potter

"You are who you claim you are, wizard." said the goblin. "What do you want with Gringotts, Mr. Potter?"

"I... uh... I want to know how much money I have in my vault and open a business account." answered Harry. The goblin turned toward his back and yelled something in goblin-tongue before turning back to Harry. "Wait here, your account manager will see to you. Next!"

Harry took a few steps to the side to let the next person in line talk to the teller. He had to wait a few minutes before a goblin walked toward him. Already, Harry could tell that this goblin looked less grumpy than the teller.

"Harry Potter?" asked the goblin. Harry nodded. "Come with me."

Harry followed the goblin toward the back of the lobby. The goblin took a set of staircases down before walking down a long and dark corridor. The corridor looked like a cave, as if the goblins had dug the corridor and called it a day. The only source of light came for faint torches every ten feet.

After a long walk, the goblin turned and entered a room. Harry followed. He had to bend down a bit to fit through the door. The inside of the room looked more like how the entrance lobby. In the middle of the room was as ornate desk made of dark wood, and three chairs. One behind and two facing it.

The goblin climbed in the chair behind while Harry sat in one of the two facing the desk.

"So, Harry Potter." said the goblin. "I am Slashsack and I am your account manager."

"How did you get a name like that?" blurted Harry before he immediately slapped a hand on his mouth, terrified of the repercussions.

The goblin gave a terrifying grin. "Trust me, you don't want to know." Harry's face turned white as he crossed his legs. The goblin started laughing heavily. "Calm down, Mr. Potter. I'm not going to do anything to you. I'm not as stuck-up as the goblins upstairs. I know how to have some fun myself." Harry let out a sigh of relief. His face began regaining colours. "So, what can I do for you today, Mr. Potter?"

"Right..." muttered Harry. "I want to know how much I have in my accounts and I want to open a business vault."

Slashsack raised an eyebrow. "A business vault? That's unexpected for someone your age... But, let's answer your first question." Slashsack opened a drawer and took out a large ledger. "This is a self-updating ledger containing information about all of your vaults."

"Vaults?" asked Harry. "I thought I only had my trust vault!"

Slashsack looked exasperated. "It's in the name, Mr. Potter. Trust Vault. It's not your main vault. Trust Vaults are only typically used by underage witches and wizards so that they don't have access to their entire fortune, since underage people can't really be trusted with that much money."

"Fair enough." said Harry sheepishly. Pointing at the ledger, he asked "Can I look at it?"

"It's your ledger." shrugged Slashsack. "Go ahead if you want."

Harry walked out of Gringotts, feeling even more light headed than when he had gone to the Ministry. He was still feeling shocked that he was this rich. When Harry had first opened the ledger and saw that he had about 400 000 galleons, he hadn't really understood how much it was. Not before Slashsack had told him that one galleon was equal to about 25 pounds sterling in the muggle world. With a quick mental calculation, Harry figured out that he had around ten million pounds in his account! Enough to live a comfortable life without working a single day, as long as he didn't spend too much. Of course, Harry couldn't do that so his fortune was in no danger of being dilapidated.

In the second part of the meeting, Harry and Slashsack talked about his business. Apparently, it wasn't rare for a Potter to start his own business. His grandfather hadn't been the first one nor would Harry be the last. He had been shocked (and proud) when Slashsack told him that his grandfather Fleamont Potter had himself owned a business, selling the potion he had invented: the Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. It had apparently amused the goblin as Slashsack told him that as good as the potion was, Fleamont hadn't managed to make it work on the Potter hair, which his son James and grandson Harry had inherited.

Harry then proceeded to file a lot of paperwork to open the business account. He had needed to provide the paperwork that the Potter Broom Company was indeed registered in the Ministry of Magic before Slashsack could allow Harry to open the account. In the end, an account for the Potter Broom Company was opened. Harry added Hermione to the accounts, as she was a part owner of the company. Harry then transferred 5 000 galleons from the Potter Vault to the vault of the Potter Broom Company. He hadn't known if he would have been able to do so, at first, but Slashsack told Harry that nothing stopped an underage wizard from transferring money from his family vault. He just couldn't retire money. Harry thought it was a neat loophole which he kept at the back of his mind, in case he needed it.

Nearly three hours after he entered Gringotts, Harry exited. He was 5 000 galleons poorer but his company was 5 000 galleons richer. Now was time to buy parts for his brooms. But, first, Harry decided to go to Florean Fortescue's. He was hungry and wanted to relax while eating an ice cream.

As he ate his vanilla ice cream, Harry realised something. 'Damn!' he thought. He would need a place to store his finished broomsticks! He began thinking heavily. Where could he store broomsticks? He knew he couldn't just put them all in his trunk, even if it was larger on the inside... But, could it be possible that there were trunks which were large enough inside that they could be used as a store room? He would have to check. The store to buy trunks would be his first stop.

After he finished his ice cream, Harry walked toward Newman's Top-Notch Trunks, where he knew he could buy a magical trunk. Harry came out of the shop thirty minutes later. To an outsider, he appeared as if he had bought nothing but in truth, Harry had paid for a trunk that could be resized then attacked to one's belt. His new trunk offered three compartments. Harry already planned to use the first one for his school supplies and the second one for his clothes. The third, which was much, much bigger than the previous two, would be used to store his broomsticks. The third compartment was the size of a small warehouse. That had blown Harry's mind.

Harry's next stop was at Quality Quidditch Supplies. As he approached the shop, he noticed a large crowd, mostly teenagers, standing in front of the shop. They were all looking through the shop window at a brand new broom. As he approached, he was able to read the sign near the broom.

THE FIREBOLT

This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined, superfine handle of ash, treated with diamond-hand polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individual selected birch twig in the broom tail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of 0-150 miles an hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable breaking charm. Price on request.

Unlike everyone else around him, Harry looked at the Firebolt with a calculative look. A broom reaching 150 miles an hour (240km/h) was very impressive, but the description of the broom was rubbish. The part where it talked about how each twig was individually selected to make the perfect aerodynamic broom tail almost made him laugh. While Harry had no doubts that an aerodynamic broom could help improve the speed, the twigs of the broom tail had nothing to do with it. Just the way the footrests were located told Harry that the Firebolt wasn't very aerodynamic. Brooms by themselves were not that bad but the biggest challenge was the rider. It was a big, heavy and strangely shaped object sitting on the broom and the best way to avoid it slowing down the broom was to make the object as flat as possible, just like on a bicycle. The footrest of the firebolt was nearly in the middle of the broom, and the shaft of the broom was rather short. It meant that the rider would not be flat at all, which would not exactly be aerodynamic. Harry knew he could himself do better on that aspect. No, what was impressive on the Firebolt was its charm and rune work. If the description was true, then the Firebolt would be a force to reckon with. He wished he could have access to a Firebolt. It could be interesting to attempt to reverse-engineer it with Hermione...

Harry entered the shop. Just like outside, inside the shop was quite crowded. In the middle stood a second Firebolt, with a ring of witches and wizards looking at it in awe. Harry rolled his eyes and walk to the counter.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" asked the clerk with a tired and resigned voice.

"Hi, I was wondering where you sold your broom parts and if you had a catalogue for them." asked Harry.

The clerk looked back at Harry with surprise. "You aren't asking about the Firebolt?"

"Seen one, seen them all." joked Harry.

"Well, wait here. I probably have a catalogue or two in the backstore." said the clerk before he passed through a door near the counter. Harry waited.

The clerk came back a few minutes later, holding what appeared to be two magazines. "Here you go." he said. "Do you need anything else?"

"Not for now." said Harry. "But I'll probably come back in the week to buy parts."

"Well, good day, then." said the clerk. Harry gave him a nod and exited the store, walking around the crowds. Wishing for some peace and quiet, Harry went toward Flourish and Blotts, Hermione's favourite shop in Diagon Alley.

As he entered, he noticed that the peace and quiet he was looking for might not be found inside of the bookshop, as Harry heard a small commotion inside. Curious, he entered. He was rather surprised when he saw a witch with dark skin and a wizard with white hair drag an oversized bird cage through the shop. The cage contained... were they sentient, biting books!?

"What is that?" he blurted in shock. The witch took notice of him and answered. She was panting slightly.

"That... is the... Monster Book of... Monster. It's... the book that... students in Hogwarts will... need for their... Care of Magical Creature... class."

Harry looked at the books with wide eyes. The electives he had taken were Runes and Care of Magical Creatures! He was starting to regret his second choice. Since he hadn't received his booklist yet, he decided not to bother buying the book right away. It wouldn't be a good thing to have at the Dursleys either way.

He shook his head. He remembered why he had come here in the first place. It was to have some peace and quiet. He wouldn't find it here but since he was there, he decided to look at the books.

As he walked between the bookshelves, Harry spotted a book on the history of Magical Egypt. He decided to buy it to Hermione, knowing that she was jealous that Ron got to learn about magic in Egypt and she couldn't. Hopefully, this book would satiate Hermione's thirst for knowledge.

Harry bought the book before leaving the two shopkeepers to their cage of monstrous books. Harry tried to think of anywhere else he should go before going back to Privet Drive. Nothing came to mind.

"Well, time to go, then." said Harry.

A/N: I know it's the third time I said it but, I swear, the next chapter is completely about the Ravenstar. x)

To be fair, i really can't type anything else in between that isn't about the enchantment and release of the Ravenstar.