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It was the morning after having been introduced to his family's legacy that Harry and Hagrid found themselves wandering through London, and, as it turned out, travelling with Hagrid was quite eventful.

Wherever they walked, Harry noticed, people would turn around to crane their necks after Hagrid's humongous form, some staring in awe, others in abject disbelief after the walking mountain of muscles.

"Yeh've still got yer letter, Harry?"

Harry took the envelope out of his pockets, opening it.

"Good," said Hagrid. "Should've a list with everything yeh need to become strong!"

Harry checked, and yes, indeed, there was a second piece of paper in the envelope he hadn't noticed the night before; he read it immediately:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WIZARDING POWERLIFTING AND STRONGMANNERY

(Wizarding Britain's foremost facility for Bodybuilding, Macronutrition and Weightlifting)

Uniform

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of Wizarding Gym gear (black)

2. One sweat headband (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective wrist wraps (dragon hide or similar)

4. One black lifting suit (black, Wizarding Velcro® fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Set Books

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Magical Weightlifting (Core Class 1) by Miranda Liftgood

A History of Strength by Brothilda Bagshot

Strength Theory for Witches and Wizards by Adalbert Baffling

Magic's Guide to Bodybuilding by Emeric Poseur

One Thousand Sources Of Carbs and Protein by Phyllida Fagales

Macronutritial Drafts and Magical Potions by Chadnius Jigger

Fantastic Meats and How to Cook Them by Newt Bromander

The Anabolic Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Tremble

Other Equipment

1 personal protein shaker

1 weightlifting belt

1 pair of weightlifting shoes

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BARBELLS

"And we can buy all this in London?" asked Harry. He looked up at Hagrid, doubt playing over his face.

"If yeh know where to go," confirmed Hagrid. "An' I'll make sure ter show yeh! Bad gear leads ter injuries! But first we have ter stop for a snack, eh?"

Having never had much choice in his selection of food, Harry nodded eagerly.

"Good," said Hagrid, coming to a stop. "This is it. The Leaky Shaker, most famous source for a protein rich snack, outside of Hogwarts, f'course."

Harry followed the arm that was as thick as a trunk of a tree and saw the tiny, grubby-looking exterior of a pub. If Hagrid had not pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it at all.

The people on the street hurrying past didn't glance at it, but rather slid their eyes from one building to the after next only to be dragged back a moment later to Hagrid's enormous form.

In fact, Harry suspected that this was part of the Magic Hagrid had warned him of. But before he could ask about it, Hagrid ushered him inside.

Harry was surprised to see that the inside of the filthy house was so clean that not even his Aunt Petunia would have found much umbrage with it, if not perhaps, for the linoleum covered floor, the fluorescent colours on the walls and the counter and the oddish fashion people wore.

Speaking of, there were quite a few people inside.

A woman with very big hair, wearing a leotard and legwarmers was leaning on the counter, the steel gripper in her hand making squeaking sounds every now and then. She was chatting with a few other patrons waiting at the counter.

On the other end of the room, a short man with broad shoulders, wearing a multi-coloured track suit was eating a banana, carefully avoiding making eye contact with anyone passing by, whereas the man he was sharing his table with (he wore very short shorts and a muscle shirt) was busying himself with applying lotion to his extremely vascular arms and shoulders.

Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; as he and Harry made their way inside, most of the people waved, some smiled and some others simply called their greetings.

Just as they reached the counter, the barman, a wrinkled, deeply tanned man returned to his workplace. Harry was fascinated by how his mullett danced in a breeze nobody else was affected by as he walked out of the backroom.

"Bangin' good seein' ya, Hagrid! The usual?"

"Yeah Tom, an' make it a proper for him here, an' some eggs! Am on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry's shoulders and making Harry's knees buckle much like a heavy squat would do.

"OH!" said the barman, peering at Harry. "OH! OH! Is this ... can this be?! GREAT ATLAS!"

At that exclamation the Leaky Shaker had went dead still and silent.

"Bless my gains," whispered the barman, a small gold chain slipping out from shirt as he leaned forward. "Harry Potter ... what an honour!"

Harry's eyes went wide with panic when the barman rushed around his counter and with him all the other people too went into motion.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back!" said the barman, and his exclamation was followed by a cacophony of like-minded chatter.

Harry didn't know how to react. The high-hair woman forgot to work her gripper, the banana-eating man forgot to avoid making eye-contact; everyone was looking at him, grabbing at his too thin arms, poking their fingers at his weak back, and talking at him.

Harry's stomach rumbled loudly, half out of hunger, half out of sheer panic.

Hagrid's face went from a beaming smile to alert, and dangerous in a heartbeat. His belly grew big for a moment before he thundered, "Now BAG YER FACES!"

None too gently he made space for Harry to walk to the counter. "Yeh know how bad missing out meals is! Come on Harry, lots of good stuff ter eat here."

The barman hurriedly returned to the kitchen, a shout of "Food's coming right up," trailing behind him while Harry climbed up the metal chairs at the counter. Hagrid watched him with a beaming smile.

"Now yeh eat up'n we'll get your gear sorted after — Oh! Didn't see you there, Professor Quirrell! How do yeh do?"

Harry turned just in time to see the extremely vascular man arrive. His arms shimmered with lotion, whereas his face was covered with a sheen of sweat. Up-close, Harry saw that his skin looked very unhealthy, stretching over his defined muscles like a too small piece of Saran Wrap over a big bowl would.

"Professor Quirrell will be one of yer teachers at Hogwarts, Harry."

Said Professor Quirrell twitched visibly. "P-Potter," he said with a slight grimace, grasping Harry's hand for a shake. "Can't t-t-ell you how b-b-bulk it is to meet you."

Harry didn't know what 'bulk' was, but he took his cue from Hagrid who simply nodded with a satisfied grin.

"What do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"Defence A-Ag-Ag-Ag-Ag-gainst the Anabolic F-F-F-Forces!" The Professor twitched again, looking rather angrily down at the cramping muscles in his big legs. He looked like he wanted to say more, but then the barman returned, one hand holding a service tray with three steaming bowls, the other holding a big glass container with a green murky liquid in it.

"Ah, there's yer food, Harry—" said Hagrid, making a sound of delight. "Yummy! Fresh pickle juice!"

The barman put down the steaming bowls of white rice, white meat and boiled eggs. Harry's stomach rumbled again.

"Dig in, dig in. Growin' muscles needs good fuel, Harry!" said Hagrid as he grabbed the jar of pickled cucumbers. He prepared himself to drink straight from the jar when he saw the twitching Professor Quirrell stare at them.

"Oh, Professor! Do you want some of my juice?"

The banana-eating man coughed loudly. Professor Quirrell's face went through a rictus of disgust; it disappeared quickly and he laughed nervously.

"N-N-No, thank you Hagrid. I need to g-g-go. I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-b-book on-on Transylvanian vegan gym candy." He looked strangely torn between disgust and excitement at the thought.

Hagrid grinned at Harry when he reached for a boiled egg while Professor Quirrell left.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh it's good food, eh?"

Harry nodded, his mouth stuffed to the brim with the egg. He chewed, swallowed and asked, "Is Professor Quirrell always this twitchy?"

"Oh yeah," agreed Hagrid. "Poor guy, really. Brilliant at making workout plans, setting up the exercises an' making yeh work to the dot, an' then some more. He wos fine with all that theory, yeh know? But then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience, yeh get what'am sayin? ... They say he met with vegan Powerlifters in the Black Forest an' there was a bit o' nasty kirkin' out with a Hag Gymnasiast group — never been the same since."

Harry's brain felt like a worn-out sponge while he ate slowly. Vegan Powerlifters? A Hag Gymnasiast group? Still he delighted in the taste of the freshly cooked plain rice and juicy chicken meat. It took a while for him to finish, but as he found Hagrid not to be in a hurry, he took his time.

Meanwhile Hagrid was draining half the jar of pickled cucumbers of its fluids. He was just wiping away some of the juice from his mouth and beard when Harry finished his bowl.

"Should get your equipment now, eh?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "How will I pay for it, though?"

"Right, take some eggs with yeh," said Hagrid as he paid with a small stack of copper coins. "I'll show yeh the ropes. How ter gain entrance in Gringotts."

"What's 'Gringotts'?"

"A bank o'course. Is where yer parents' put their money. Run by the meanest bankers yeh can find under the sun. Goblins." Hagrid screwed up his nose. He turned to wave his goodbye.

Harry stumbled over his own feet, dropping one of the three eggs he was holding.

"Goblins?"

"Surprisingly good aerobic dancers," said Hagrid in the manner of trying to find something good in someone he rather would not like to know at all. He led Harry out of the back of the Leaky Shaker, coming to a halt before a brick wall. "Right. Take a good look, Harry."