Chapter Ten: In Which There is an Interlude of Self-Indulgence
The Towlers being One-Who-Lived worshippers and the Finch-Fletchleys being rich White people (who now knew Harry was the One-Who-Lived and what that entailed) meant that not a single one of those that held the positions of Responsible Adults™ actually had any complaints when Harry, Kenneth, and Justin wanted to hang out in the shopping district longer and pick up things not strictly on the supply list.
Harry didn't know if this was because of the aforementioned reasons or because Harry brought along [REDACTED]'s aura of I'm-smol-and-cute-pamper-me, but those same adults apparently wanted nothing more than to buy Harry everything Harry wanted. Harry was very willing to accept such treatment from the Finch-Fletchleys — hoity-toity moneybags that they were — but Harry quietly put a stop to that with the Towlers. The couple regarded Harry a little too close to a Higher Power for Harry to be comfortable accepting tokens of their good will like that.
Harry now walked around the shops of Diagon with resin and wire pins of butterflies, dragonflies, cicadas, and ladybugs in their hair; bright green clover hair grips to keep their fringe in place; strawberry drop earrings and blueberry studs in their ear; comfy new lace-up ankle boots; and an ice cream cone in one hand. Oh, and a massive leather hardback propped up against their opposite hip.
The thing bringing Harry the most joy, of course, was the massive leather hardback. The cover was dark grey and embossed with a silver periwinkle blossom. Undyed mooncalf hide. Silver gilt edges. Seventeen and three-quarters inches long; twelve and three-fifths inches wide; six and a half inches thick; over three thousand pages. It had brass edge-protectors and a matching hinged lock.
Was it heavy?
Fuck yes. It had to be at least fifteen pounds.
Was Harry going to put it down?
Fuck no.
Webster's Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary, eat your heart out — Harry now had a Poinsinistre's Self-Indexing Eruditionary and they weren't going to let it out of their hands.
It had only been only by chance that they had passed by Obscurus Books while the shop was advertising the latest in book enchantments in their window. Obscurus Books was only film-canon, and hadn't been much more than background, but it was now taking the position of . . . well there wasn't really a mundane counterpart. It was like an expensive book-collector crossed with an electronics store. They were the foremost in enchanted books in England, apparently. And they just so happened to have the newest brand of eruditionaries that day, Poinsinistre's newest model.
Seeing the gorgeous book sitting in the window, Harry hadn't actually cared much initially what it was, they just wanted it to hold it. Upon getting an explanation of what it was and what it did, Harry bought it on the spot. 'Eruditionaries' were initially wordless volumes that would subsume books and documents and then anthologize them; essentially, they were to physical books what Calibre was to e-books and digital files. And the one being advertised was effectively limitless, grime- and water-repellent, re-organisable, and spawned labelled tabs whenever a new book or document was subsumed.
Harry snatched up that big, sexy thing — like, it was literally gigantic, heavy, and antiquated just for the aesthetic; go off, Poinsinistre — and they didn't let go of it even when the clerk was cashing it out. The cost of 24 Galleons, 13 Sickles, and 8 Knuts was money Harry did not regret in the least bit. They shoved in all their school books as well as the interesting novel series they'd picked up when at Flourish & Blotts. (And later they'd hit up a second-hand bookstore and clean the place out.)
Despite being weighed down by an extra fifteen pounds, Harry felt like they were walking on air. Book. Big book. Big, pretty, customisable, leather book — Ah-h-h-h, they could ascend into the heavens from their glee alone! This made up for Harry being effectively a runaway!
"Didn't know you were a swot," Justin taunted, watching Harry skip and bounce.
Kenneth frowned a little, offended on Harry's behalf.
"Harry is an intellectual!" he said, sounding like he was clutching his pearls in shock.
"Swot or not, I don't know why you wouldn't want one yourself," said Harry, rubbing their cheek against the top. "All your books contained within one compendium; you'd never have to worry about forgetting a textbook you need for class, never have to worry about losing a book or one getting stolen. And if you want something more easy to carry, there were plenty that came in smaller sizes!"
"Do I look like someone who's willing to drop money on a book I don't actually need?" scoffed Justin. "And that thing's wa-a-a-ay too expensive even if I was interested."
"There were others that were much cheaper, you know," said Kenneth. "There was one the size of a composition notebook that was, like, only three Galleons. I mean, they weren't limitless like the one Harry has, but even the smallest capacity could contain at least a hundred books."
"Who even has a hundred books?" Justin refuted.
". . . it's like you're from another planet entirely," said Harry, looking at the boy in askance. "Are you even literate? Tell us truthfully — this is a judgement-free zone."
"Clearly not a candidate for Ravenclaw," Kenneth murmured.
"Oi, why did you get one, then, Mr Smarty-Pants?" Justin said with a scowl.
Kenneth sighed dolefully.
"I spent all my pocket money I saved up already. Maybe next time if I have enough to spare."
"Oh, I'll order you one for the winter holidays, Ken!" said Harry happily. "Maybe there'll be another new model out then!"
Harry and Kenneth cheerfully talked about books and studying tools (and Justin lamented having nerdy friends) as they continued going around. They poked around at sweets shops, sporting goods, and the like. It was only when it was nearing dinner that the parents finally decided it was time to head home.
The Finch-Fletchleys tried to coax Harry to go back with them after the Towlers said their goodbyes, but Harry bowed out. Harry had brought their backpack with them, and they still needed to hit up the Magical Menagerie for a terrarium for the snakes, so they really couldn't return with the Finch-Fletchleys without admitting they brought three wild snakes into the family's suburban home.
"You'll be staying here, then, dear?" asked Mrs Finch-Fletchley as they stood by the door that led back into muggle London. She eyed the clientele of the Leaky Cauldron with some distaste. Mrs Towler had explained the history of the place to her, but Mrs Finch-Fletchley wasn't one that cared for antiquity.
"I'll look around and see if there's a proper hotel in the district tomorrow," said Harry with a little laugh, "but truly, ma'am, the Leaky Cauldron is well-known for it's comfortable accommodations. The main pub is a bit . . . well, as you can see — but I'm not worried.
"Oh, how about this? If I find a nicer place to stay, I'll call, and then Justin can come over and we can practice practicals for our classes!" Harry gave the woman hopeful eyes. "What do you, ma'am? That way we can get a head start on our classes, and there won't be a chance for any accidents at your place."
Finch-Fletchleys placated, Harry waved them off and approached the counter to talk to Mr Dodderidge, the proprietor of the Leaky Cauldron — more widely known as Tom, the barkeeper. Harry didn't know him like that, though, so they weren't comfortable calling him by such an informal name even in their own mind.
With their thick fringe covering their signature scar, Harry was not recognised by Mr Dodderidge and thus received some concern for being an unaccompanied child requesting a room.
"It's alright, sir!" Harry said, voice calm and cheery. "It was my idea to stay in the Alleys until school starts, because I'd really rather not travel so far again. My family's mostly muggle, you see, so we'd be taking a car, and cars give me motion-sickness. Besides my friends live nearby, so it's not like I'm really by myself."
Placated mostly, Mr Dodderidge gave Harry their room key and directions. Harry started to go up to drop off their purchases, but decided otherwise after a few steps up the stairs. They had shelled out for the Expanded document bag, so all they'd bought was safely stored away already. Besides their eruditionary still in their arms, the only thing else not in the bag was their backpack.
Recalling how Newt Scamander had raised several species of animals in his own Expanded briefcase, Harry pulled the bag off their shoulder and unbuckled it open upon the floor. They took off their backpack, hissed a quiet warning to the snakes, and carefully dropped the backpack in. In the next minute, the bag was done up again and slung across Harry's shoulders like a messenger bag once more.
No longer laden like a runaway, Harry returned to Diagon.
The sun was just sinking behind the buildings when Harry entered the Magical Menagerie. There were still some other shoppers out and about, but this pet shop had but a couple left and was only, like twenty or fifteen minutes away from closing for the day.
Harry winced and sent an apologetic look at the shop-workers who were tidying up to close; they knew well that it sucked when people came at the last minute like this.
"I'm really sorry to bother you like this," Harry said when they approached one of the workers who was not on the till. "But I really need a terrarium. Something that can handle three snakes and give them plenty of room. If you could show me one that you think would suit, I'll take it and get out of your hair right away."
The shop attendant, a puffy-cheeked young man who couldn't be long out of secondary school if he was at all, blinked at Harry's words. No doubt Harry was the most courteous last-call customer he'd met in a long while.
"Ah, no problem, no problem," he said, sounding flustered. He put the broom he'd been sweeping with to the side and showed Harry to their reptile section.
All around were animals in cages settling in for the night. Harry passed felines, canines, birds, rodents, and the like. They hung in cages or enclosed habitats that lined the rows of shelves that formed aisles.
Dozens upon dozens of serpents and lizards resided in glass tanks within the reptile section. Empty tanks sat on shelves underneath, each showing different kinds of environments, decorations, and capacities.
The shop attendant pointed out a few he thought would suit, but Harry's attention was drawn to an enclosure filled with long golden-scaled creatures. Seeing their long limb-less bodies, Harry initially took them for snakes, but then they noted the head-shape and how the creatures had eyelids. The label underneath it said 'Aurelian Glass Lizard.'
Ah, legless lizards.
"Oh, those are very popular with serpent owners," said the shop attendant, seeing where Harry was looking. "Parents prefer those over snakes because this kind almost never bite."
Harry peered in and admired their glossy scales and interesting patterns. These lizards must be the sort that were active during twilight and dusk — they were rather lively and chatty in there. Harry heard them talk about this and that, griping at one another, teasing and arguing. It was not too different from the snakes at Number Four beyond the fact that these lizards sounded more intelligent; they even spoke rather politely.
Harry wondered if the difference was a matter of species or of domestication.
One with a pretty bronze squarish pattern complained the tank was getting crowded again, and how it wished it was a human so it could personally throw the others out with its own hands. The lament was so specific and out of left-field, Harry had to hold their breath to keep from laughing.
"If you go with this tank, Miss," said the shop attendant, pointing to a circular terrarium that advertised having Space-Expanded hidey-holes for reptiles to nest in, "then you'll have more than enough room for one of those as well. Aurelians get along well with snakes, too."
Harry didn't know what possessed them, but their amusement with the legless lizard combined with admiration for the nice-looking tank, combined with the desire to not make the shop attendants have to stay open beyond their closing time, had Harry agreeing to both the tank as well as the lizard with barely a second thought.
"That one specifically," Harry said, pointing to the smart-mouthed one so that there would be no mistake.
§What is this?!§ The lizard complained, curling unhappily around the clawed rod the attendant used to extract it from the tank. §This is the exact opposite of what this one wants! Return this one! Take the ugly, stupid one over there!§
It griped and whined all the way through being put in the tank, the tank being set at the till, and through Harry adding packets of food to the totalling. Harry couldn't wait to see how their snakes would react to such a mouthy addition — they imagined it would be amusing.
Its reaction when Harry whispered to it that they hoped to get along well was also amusing.
Despite what Harry had suggested to Mrs Finch-Fletchley, Harry did not go out to look for a nice hotel the first thing the next day. Oh, they had vague plans to do so at some point, but what they actually did after eating breakfast was stuff the serpents into the document bag and trot out to Carkitt Market — a street over from Diagon, intersecting with Horizont as Diagon did.
Carkitt Market was the place that housed the craftsmen and specialists as opposed to Diagon's generalists. Harry had peeked in the day before as they had moved through Horizont, and they had spotted a number of interesting storefronts. There was one in particular that had caught Harry's eye, though.
With a spring in their step, precious eruditionary clutched to their front, Harry all but skipped across the cobblestone street over to Concordia and Plunkett: Musical Instruments.
Oh, this was a shop they'd been so interested in when [REDACTED] had read about it on the Wikia. They'd been somewhat let down when it was described in vague terms and sounded like a general sort of music store, but in this reality it had spawned as a lutherie store.
Stepping inside, Harry saw that the interior was spacious with a tall ceiling, done up in warm tones and polished, dark woods. There were benches and tall stools here and there along the displays and shelves. There was a mezzanine upper floor that was accessed by two winding stairwells; it appeared to house assorted music books, all divided up by instrumentation. From the door behind the front counter, the workshop could be seen.
Harry all but floated, mute in their euphoria. It was Flourish & Blotts but for stringed instruments; shelves upon shelves and rows upon rows, filled with things like violins and guitars, but also lyres, and lutes, and, holy shit, there were nyckelharpas and hurdy-gurdies over there! And hammered dulcimers over there. Harps, and zithers, and viols.
Harry felt like they were going to cry. It was so beautiful! Amazing! They could live in this store!
They spotted a free attendant idling by a display case of bows and immediately went up to the person.
"Hi, do you do custom orders? Yes? Fantastic. Okay — so, I'd like a mandola. Bowlback. Five courses, the extra being E. Open— Oh, erm, sorry," said Harry, simmering down at seeing the startled, overwhelmed look on the attendant's face. They smiled sheepishly. "Got a little excited. If it's alright with you, I'd love to commission an instrument."
The attendant eyed Harry a little hesitantly. She was a pleasant-faced young lady that looked kind of like a librarian.
"Are you by yourself today, dear?" she asked warmly, apparently having a thing for little kids.
"Yes, ma'am! But it's alright, my auntie's not too far, she doesn't mind me coming in by myself," said Harry, carefully not speaking a single falsehood. They realised that their colourful, childish appearance didn't exactly inspire confidence in their ability to take care of themselves. The book in their arms made them look even smaller, too.
The attendant looked relieved and nodded amiably. She went behind the counter and pulled out a pad and a quill.
"May I have the specifics you have in mind?" she asked.
"Okay, erm . . . A bowlback mandola with . . ." Harry thought for a moment. "With the standard four courses, never mind what I said before about five. Erm. . . archtop. Open mechanical pegs, but like a double bass. An attached armrest. Brass strap buttons. Mother-of-pearl for the fingerboard dots. Black wooden pickguard around the entirety of the soundhole — with an inlay of . . . of, hmm . . . let's say vines. Also made of mother-of-pearl, please. Alternating dark and light back ribbing. The entire thing in green stained wood, if you can manage it. Oh, and a rosette for the soundhole as well — the prettiest design you have!
"Oh, oh, oh! If you could shape the headstock so that it ends in scroll, too? Like on a violin? Oh, that would be so-o-o-o pretty!"
Harry was half tempted to do a twirl in their excitement, but they managed to restrain themselves.
"You've put quite some thought into this," said the attendant with a smile, writing it all down dutifully. "Alright. . . . Standard size, I'm assuming?"
"Yes, ma'am. Though if it's possible to make the neck a bit thinner so I can hold it a bit easier, that would be lovely."
"Noted, noted. . . . And are there any enchantments you'd like?"
Harry was taken somewhat aback. They'd been so caught up in the euphoria of finding a lutherie store, they forgot wizardry existed for a moment. Eagerness filled them upon remembering.
"What enchantments are you able to provide?" they asked.
"We can do the usual water- and moisture-resistance enchantments, of course. And reinforcing enchantments to prevent scuffs or fall-damage. We also do re-sizing enchantments, but those are best for instruments that are less expensive since it takes away from the longevity of the instrument. And also colour-changing, temperature-resistance, and pitch-shifting."
"Oh, I'd definitely like the moisture-resistance, damage-resistance, and temperature-resistance!" said Harry. "Is there a limit to how many can be put on?"
"Typically, we don't advise more than five because of how the runes have to be carved into the wood."
"Well, that's three so far. . . . The colour-changing one, too, please. Is it possible to have it return to my possession if it gets lost or stolen?"
"Ah, that one is possible, but it costs a bit more than the others—"
"I don't mind!" Harry chirped, bouncing on their toes. "Whatever it ends up costing is fine!"
The attendant told them the price.
Harry didn't let it show on their face, but it was actually not as fine as they expected. Still, it wasn't like they'd be dropping this kind of money on a single instrument again, and it was bound to last at least twice as long as a normal instrument of its kind would, never mind that it was an enchanted mandola, so it . . . it was fine. Compared to what something similar might cost from a muggle luthier, it was down right economical.
"I'd like a hard carrying case to go with it as well," said Harry. In for a penny, in for a pound.
The mandola would take some time to put together, but it happened that it would be ready before Harry would board the Hogwarts Express, so they had no complaints. They paid a down-payment of thirty Galleons and would return with eighty-five Galleons more upon completion.
Of course, Harry wasn't just going to stop there.
Eyes shining, Harry looked over the shop filled with several of their dream instruments.
Oh, what a great day to have money to spend.
AN: Don't forget to go to my tumblr (High-Pot-In-Noose) and click on the "Update Schedule" link to find out the schedules for my fics and well as how to support me and get your hands on advanced chapter updates.
