Chapter 3

Harry's obvious hesitation when entering the store wasn't a real problem, Harry decided as he shuffled inside. It was expected of a young muggleborn to be nervous while shopping in Knockturn Alley. The hood of his cloak hid his face, but it would be easy enough to tell that his body was that of a small female.

And even if Harry's face got exposed, that wouldn't be an issue. It was expected that a Ravenclaw went in search of knowledge inside Knockturn Alley sooner or later. Harry had been quite shocked when Luna told him at some point that she and her father were frequent visitors of Knockturn Alley and had been for as long as she could remember, and that they certainly weren't the only Ravenclaws to do so. There were some excellent places to find second-hand books there and the prices tended to be a bit better than Diagon Alley. In hindsight, perhaps Harry shouldn't have been surprised, seeing that Xenophilius had managed to get his hands on an erumpent horn at some point and such a thing was exactly the kind of illegal shit you could buy in Knockturn Alley if you knew where to look.

At any rate, Harry should be safe to shop in a store where Tom Riddle seemed to be working for the summer. Harry only knew that Riddle had been employed at Borgin and Burkes after he'd finished Hogwarts, but it made sense he would have looked for a summer job as soon as he could, to earn a bit of spending money and to get out of that orphanage as often as possible.

Riddle barely glanced up from the book he was reading, and he had it angled in a way that Harry couldn't make out a title. Harry aimed for the nearest bookshelves and started browsing. He was looking for cookbooks, but if he found something else useful he'd pick it up as well, within reason. He didn't want to delve into any subjects that might pique Riddle's interest once he rang up Harry's purchase.

Harry quickly found a book full of magical cooking techniques and beginner's recipes, and a book about magical gardening that had a huge section on growing vegetables with magic. Harry knew Harriet's family had a large kitchen garden that went a bit neglected, since Martin and Evelyn were very busy with their jobs. Perhaps Harry could oversee it with a bit of magic to get it to perform much better. What with the food shortages, having their own successful vegetable garden would be a real boon for the family.

After browsing his way through some basic charms books Harry found a real treasure. It was as thick as two bricks stacked together and looked about a hundred years old. The leather cover was stamped with gold-embossed letters that said: Mrs Ashford's Complete Compendium for the Frugal Household.

Harry might have actually gasped in delight at finding such a tome. As he paged through it he learned that the book covered pretty much any kind of magic the frugal witch or wizard needed to run a home. Cooking charms, cleaning charms, spells to sew or mend clothing, building charms and gardening spells, and much, much more. Harry didn't care what the price of that book was, he was getting it because it was the answer to all his current magical shortcomings. He decided there and then that Mrs Ashford was his new personal hero.

Harry figured he'd give the shop another quick browse to see if he'd missed anything interesting before heading home. This brought him closer to the counter and thus to Riddle. Harry pretended to look through some books on enchanting while he glanced at Riddle from under his hood.

Fucking hell, but Riddle really was a handsome devil.

Over the years Harry had sometimes wondered if during that time he'd met a teenaged Tom Riddle, at the end of his second year, he hadn't imagined how good-looking Riddle had been. No, Harry could now say, without any doubt, that Riddle was the most handsome man he'd ever seen, even if he was currently a fifteen-year-old boy still growing and maturing.

Harriet's memories of seeing Riddle around Hogwarts for the past four years thoroughly agreed with his assessment. Poor Harriet had even had something of a crush on Riddle. It was nothing serious, simply the feelings of a growing girl when confronted with a very handsome boy she saw walking by on a daily basis. They were probably the kind of feelings every living soul (and perhaps a few dead ones) in Hogwarts felt towards Riddle, save for Albus Dumbledore.

But fucking hell, Harry wasn't sure what to make of whatever was happening inside his body at that moment. Because his body was definitely attracted to Riddle, even when his mind reminded him very thoroughly of all the horrible things Voldemort had done to Harry and so many other people.

But Riddle wasn't Voldemort, was he? Right now he was a teenager working a summer job, who hadn't done anything truly horrifying just yet.

And Harry was going to make sure that Riddle wouldn't get his hands on the basilisk. Harry frowned while he glanced at Riddle again. Perhaps he could also break into the restricted section of the Hogwarts library sometime soon and steal any books that mentioned horcruxes. Riddle hadn't really gone off the rails until he'd started mutilating his own soul. If Harry could keep him from doing that, perhaps Riddle wouldn't turn out quite so deranged and happy to murder.

Oh, Harry had no intention of becoming Riddle's confidant or his conscience, the one person to keep Riddle on the path of the light, or some such rot. Harry had no desire to take that sort of responsibility onto his own shoulders. Besides, Riddle would someday soon be a grown-ass man. It was his own responsibility to manage his own life choices, end of story. Harry was willing to make a few adjustments from the shadows, but that was all he was going to do.

After Harry dealt with the basilisk and any books mentioning horcruxes in the Hogwarts library, Riddle was on his own to live his own life. And if he went off the rails again, Harry would gladly hunt him down and finish him off like a rabid dog, but he refused to get involved in Riddle's life before such a moment.

Just as Harry figured he should probably stop ogling Riddle and pay for his books, the bell above the door jingled as a few new customers entered the shop.

No, not customers. They were Riddle's Slytherin friends.

Abraxas Malfoy was first, dressed in silk summer robes, his blond hair long and tied back. He was the spitting image of Lucius, and only now did Harry realize that Draco actually looked a lot more like his mother than his father, apparently. After Abraxas came Theodorus Nott and Maximus Lestrange, both faces Harry recognized from old Death Eater files. The next one through the door sent a freezing shiver of something terrifying up and down Harry's spine.

Konrad Mulciber might only be a teenager, but Harry would know that face anywhere.

And finally, Sirius Black entered the store.

Harry blinked, and blinked again. No, not Sirius, of course. That was Orion Black, Sirius' father.

Harry was still mostly hidden by a stack of books and he quickly cast a wandless notice-me-not charm on himself while he slowly moved away. As long as he didn't actively draw attention to himself the others wouldn't notice him. Harry had learned a few wandless spells while training as an Auror. It had been hard work, but necessary. Being able to summon your wand back to you during a duel was vitally important. And once Harry had been able to do that, he'd also taught himself a few other spells he could now perform wandlessly, such as an unlocking charm, an Expelliarmus, a Stupefy and a notice-me-not charm. Anything more powerful than that would need his wand, but Harry was more than happy to have a few spells at the ready he could use to take out his enemies even without a wand in his hand.

"And how are you enjoying the life of the employed?" Theodorus Nott asked as he approached the counter, giving Riddle a warm smile.

Before Riddle could even answer, Abraxas Malfoy gave a loud sniff as he glanced around the store, his nose wrinkled. "Can an impoverished establishment such as this one even afford to pay you?"

"And hello to you, too," Riddle replied with a tight little smile as he glared at Abraxas. "They pay me in a few sickles and in books."

"In books?" Orion Black demanded, as though books couldn't possibly hold any value. "Are you finally turning into a Ravenclaw once and for all, Tom?" Ravenclaw was said as though it was a foul curse word, and Harry quietly bristled at the insult to his new House.

"The horror," Riddle said in a deadpan tone while giving Black an even look. This earned him an amused chuckle from Nott and a shake of his head from Lestrange. Riddle shrugged and carefully closed the book he'd been reading. "I get to spend my days reading while getting some silver for my troubles. It beats being stuck in muggle London."

This got Riddle a slew of agreeable responses. It was interesting to see that at this age, the others didn't yet treat Riddle as though he was a budding Dark Lord. There was some gentle ribbing and teasing and they treated Riddle like any group of teenage boys would treat a classmate and friend.

Fascinating.

So Riddle's tight rule over his fellow Slytherins hadn't yet started and right now he was just another student. A handsome and clever student, sure, but he wasn't yet ruling over anyone else.

"Do you get a lot of mudbloods in here?" Konrad Mulciber asked, and just the sound of his voice sent an trail of ice dripping down Harry's spine. Unwittingly he remembered Harriet being raped by that boy standing just a few feet away. It was strange, to have such memories that belonged to someone else. Harry didn't feel as though he himself had been raped, but at the same time it did feel more intimate to have these memories in his own head than say looking at one in a pensieve.

Either way, seeing and hearing Konrad Mulciber so close by gave Harry several very strong murderous impulses and made his hand twitch in its eagerness to reach for his wand. Harry knew with certainty that he could take these six boys if he engaged them in a duel. All of them were above average when it came to magical power and he had no doubt that some of them would have already received formal training in duelling, or perhaps would have been learning on their own, like Riddle probably had been doing since his first year.

But Harry was an experienced Auror, who'd received Auror level training in duelling. He could wipe the floor with all of them within a few minutes, he was sure of it.

When Harry had started Auror training it became apparent very soon that Harry sucked at duelling. Not surprising, since Harry had never learned to do it. Yes, he'd mastered individual spells and he'd faced dangerous enemies, but Harry had made it that far in life much more due to sheer, dumb luck than to any knowledge of how to actually duel another witch or wizard.

Harry had plenty of raw power, more so than most, but his spell repertoire had been pathetic and he hadn't a clue how to string spell-clusters together and how to be creative with magic in ways that would take your opponent by surprise.

Thankfully, the Auror department was very thorough in their education and Harry had learned actual duelling, after many, many hours of blood, sweat and tears, and the occasional trip to St Mungo's, and nowadays Harry could duel any other Auror to a quick victory.

But no, now was not the time to take care of these wizards. To his knowledge, only Mulciber had actually engaged in serious criminal activities so far, and Harry already had plans for him. If he wiped the floor with them know, he'd lose the element of anonymity he needed for his future plans, plus those rich pureblood boys would make sure the poor muggleborn witch would end up expelled from Hogwarts, or worse, in Azkaban, for attacking them.

"Nobody needs to hear about your distasteful hobbies, Konrad," Orion said with an utterly bored drawl.

Mulciber sputtered. "Distasteful? Fucking those mudbloods is the only use they have. Maybe you should try it, loosen you up some." Mulciber got a downright nasty look on his face, his eyes almost fever bright. "I can recommend this little Ravenclaw cunt I fucked right before the holidays. She begged so prettily for me to stop."

"For Merlin's sake," Riddle snapped, looking around the store in a bit of a panic. "This store is not secure. Keep those details to yourself, fool."

Harry slowly closed his eyed and stood perfectly still, invisible to the monsters around him. So Riddle knew what Mulciber got up to in his spare time. Harry had wondered if Mulciber's dormmates knew they shared their dormitory with a rapist, but it seemed that they did but just didn't care. Not that this surprised Harry. All these men would grow up to truly despise muggleborns to the point they slaughtered them like cattle if given the chance. It seemed that Mulciber had simply started a little earlier in showing his true colours than the rest of them.

Mulciber huffed and scuffed his shoe against the carpet, shoving his hands deep in his pocket, the picture of a petulant child. "I can't wait for the holidays to be over so I can fuck some mudbloods again," he muttered, apparently unable to keep his gob shut once and for all.

Abraxas sniffed and turned his back on him, engaging Riddle in some light conversation about his responsibilities at the store.

And for the next hour Harry stood still, head bent, listening to the six teens talking about utterly boring and banal things. There was lots of complaining about Dumbledore, and the Ministry, and the current ranking in the Quidditch League, and other shit Harry wasn't interested in.

But if he wanted to remain undetected, which he did, Harry had no choice to stay still and wait until those boys finally left. As soon as he drew attention to himself they'd notice him, and Harry had no desire to confront Mulciber before he had his trap set up for that fucker.

After almost an hour-and-a-half of mindless prattle, Orion Black announced he was in the mood for a sorbet from Fortescue's and the whole lot finally left. Harry waited a few more minutes until Riddle had gone back to reading his book, and then he made his way to the counter and put his small selection of books on top of it.

Riddle looked up in obvious surprise, as though he'd genuinely forgotten Harry had been there, which was exactly what Harry had counted on.

"These three, please," Harry said in a whisper.

For a moment it seemed Riddle was curious about Harry's identity, but then he noticed the books Harry had selected. One on household magic, one cookbook and one on gardening. Harry could see Riddle's face shut down in immediate boredom and Harry could barely swallow back an amused snicker.

"Three knuts, please," Riddle said, and he barely glanced at Harry when he handed over the correct amount of coins. Harry snatched up his books and before he reached the door Riddle already had his nose buried in his book again.

Good. Even with the unexpected delay, Harry had managed to avoid drawing Riddle's attention and that was his ultimate goal, so he counted the expedition a success.

Harry made it back to Harriet's home in time to get dinner started, as he'd promised Evelyn. He put his beginner's cookbook to good use and managed to peel and chop the potatoes with a few flicks of his wand. The parsnips looked a bit rough after Harry peeled those, but he quickly chopped them with another charm. Then he waved his wand over the vegetables to roast them with a charm. They came out nicely browned and steaming. Harry finished off with a bit of salt and pepper and then he set the table and not a moment too soon because Harriet's family walked through the door.

"Oh, you roasted them?" Evelyn asked in surprise while Harry quickly got a frying pan hot on the stove to fry up some eggs.

Harry shrugged. "It seemed like a nice change." Then he looked around the kitchen and noticed the distinct lack of dirty dishes. "I've already washed up," he quickly explained.

Dinner was simple but everything was cooked to perfection, thankfully, and Harry genuinely looked forward to trying out all the new cooking charms he could find in the book. Harry still possessed an insatiable curiosity, no matter that he was a raving cynic those days.

Right after dinner, as Harry helped Evelyn with the rest of the dishes, he got a strange, burning feeling in his lower belly. He disappeared inside the bathroom at the first opportunity, and once he pulled his knickers down he saw what the problem was at once.

Oh fuck. He'd completely forgotten that girls got periods. And the pregnancy prevention potion always triggers a new menstruation cycle.

Ugh. Why oh why couldn't Harry have been reborn into a male body? He loved women, he really did, but he just preferred a cock and balls over whatever the hell he had now, that bled once a month and made his lower body feel like it was on fire.

Thankfully, Harry had actually lived together with Ginny for a year and he knew how witches took care of such problems. And thanks to Harriet's memories, he knew she kept a supply of cloths to use during her time of the month in the dresser in her room.

Just as Harry joined the family in the sitting room for tea, the telephone in the hallway rang loud enough to wake the dead in the cemetery of the next town.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut while Evelyn hurried to answer it. She appeared again a minute later, pausing in the doorway.

"Jonathan Mason's breathing has worsened," Evelyn said, and Martin folded up his newspaper and got up at once. "I'll get your bag."

"I'll come, too, father," Vincent said, and he followed his family out of the room.

Harry sank back on the sofa and clutched a pillow to his belly. He knew a simple pain relief potion that witches took whenever they had a painful period, but of course he had none in stock. And he couldn't just slip away to brew it. He didn't even think he had all the ingredients he needed in stock.

Evelyn took one look at Harry when she returned and frowned in concern. "What's the matter, darling?"

Harry swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. People had rarely addressed him with such sincere concern for his well-being. "Just my time of the month," Harry mumbled.

Evelyn nodded while she gave him a sympathetic smile. "A bad one?"

Harry nodded miserably, even though he didn't think it was a particularly bad period, but it was his first one ever and it fucking sucked.

Harry wanted his penis back, simple as that.

"I'll be right back," Evelyn said, and moments later Harry heard some noises coming from the kitchen that suggested Evelyn was making some sort of drink. She appeared again and handed Harry a steaming cup of hot cocoa, and at once Harry's eyes misted over with unshed tears.

Cocoa powder was pretty much impossible to buy during the war, and Evelyn had been saving the half can they had left for special occasions such as Christmas. And now she'd made her daughter a hot cup of that rare brew just because her belly hurt.

Harry couldn't stop the tears from slipping down his cheeks. "Thanks," he mumbled, ducking his head and sipping the cup. He wasn't even sure why he was crying. For his own strange lot in life. For his missing penis. Or in sympathy for the kind Evelyn Hubble, who'd lost her daughter and didn't even know it.

At once Harry realized that Harry being here was the only thing that had prevented Evelyn from finding her daughter's dead body in her bed thanks to that raping monster. And perhaps Harry was crying for poor Harriet as well, who'd found her own life so difficult that she'd ended it prematurely.

Evelyn tactfully ignored Harry's tears and sat down in her armchair and picked up her embroidery. And Harry sat in a room with a woman who was the mother of the body he was currently wearing, and Harry had never had a mother before, and he thought that perhaps he wouldn't mind having this one for himself, now that Harriet didn't need her anymore.

Harry went to bed early, and Evelyn brought him a hot water bottle. A metal one, wrapped in a large, knitted sock.

"It was your grandmother's," Evelyn said as she tucked Harry in. Harry remembered that Martin's mother had passed away just the year before from a sudden aneurysm. It had devastated Harriet, who'd been very close with her grandmother, who'd lived with them ever since her husband had died from cancer almost a decade earlier.

"Thank you," Harry whispered and turned on his side, clutching the hot water bottle against his belly, vowing to brew the pain relief potion first thing the next day.

And that is what Harry did over the coming days. He popped into Diagon Alley for the right ingredients, made himself a large batch of pain relief potion which did wonders for his mood, and he sold more things from his Room of Requirement stash. Harry decided to wait with selling any books, because he wanted to create a real personal library in Murder Cottage, which meant that he should fix the cottage up first.

Mrs Ashford proved an authority on almost anything to do with remodelling and redecorating a home, and if she'd appeared there and then Harry would have pleaded for her hand in marriage, so grateful was he for her amazing book. There was a whole section on expanding existing rooms, and Harry did just that with pretty much all the rooms in the cottage. He cleaned inside and out, he repainted every surface that needed it, he polished the slate floors downstairs and the wooden floors upstairs, and he repaired the kitchen and bathroom, adding taps with running hot and cold water, provided by runes carved into the metal. He also added a flushing toilet.

And once the basics of the cottage were done, Harry started decorating it with the furniture and decorations he'd found. He fixed up what he liked, changing the colours as needed, cleaning it all thoroughly. He also discovered lots of fallen trees in the nearby piece of woodland and took some of those home to transfigure into bookcases for one of the spare bedrooms that would become his library. Parts of the cellar he turned into a potions room, with a sturdy workbench he transfigured himself, and lots of shelves on the wall for his ingredients and tools.

Harry also got himself a few essentials for the kitchen, such as a kettle and tealeaves, plus a few cups, so he could enjoy a good cup of tea in between his hard work.

He also experimented with cooking charms every afternoon as he prepared dinner for his family. And yes, Harry was now thinking of these people as his family, because that is what they were, even if it still felt strange to Harry more often than not.

Harry also sorted through all the clothes he'd found, and he kept quite a few pieces for himself. Thanks to Mrs Ashford's wisdom, Harry learned to charm clothes to fit him, or to change their colour or to slightly alter their fit. This way Harry ended up with some very nice, silk robes in case he needed to attend some official gathering. He also now had a beautiful lambskin coat, lined with soft wool, which would be a real treat to wear in the Scottish winters. And he had plenty of black, Hogwarts robes to see him through the rest of his Hogwarts years.

The rest of the clothes he sold, alongside with any furniture he didn't end up using for himself.

Once Murder Cottage had been turned into a cosy place to live, Harry spent a whole day putting it under the Fidelius Charm. It was a fiddly bit of magic, and enormously time-consuming, but in the end Harry managed it, and now he had a true safe-house where no one could find him unless Harry shared the secret with them.

Harry knew that once he finished Hogwarts and made bank with his future potions empire, he would buy a public home for himself, that he could use to entertain. But he'd always keep Murder Cottage as a safe retreat for himself. He knew that one day his life may depend on it.

And then, just when Harry was ready to slay the basilisk, the full moon came around, so Harry rolled up the mandrake leaf and stuck it under his tongue. It was uncomfortable, but he knew he'd get used to it soon enough. He could still eat and drink and talk, even if it took some practise at first. The leaf would stay there until the next full moon no matter what.

Harry needed a brave partner to go kill the murder serpent, and there was no braver cockerel in all of Swansand-upon-the-sea than the Governor, the Hubbles' handsome Campine cockerel. A large black and white speckled bird, the Governor was known to chase any neighbourhood cats from the yard. He was fearless. Well, for a chicken, at any rate.

Harry had informed his family the evening before that he'd be getting up before sunrise to watch it near the coast. This wasn't an unusual occurrence, for any member of the Hubble family to take an early morning walk, so no one thought this a strange announcement. Harry got dressed in some old robes, and snuck out of the house under the cover of full darkness.

He quietly opened the chicken coop and stunned the Governor, catching him gently without waking any of the other chickens up. He placed the Governor inside his shoulder bag, which also held lots and lots of expanded crates that Harry had prepared to hold the basilisk parts.

The journey to Hogwarts was the same as when he'd snuck into the Room of Requirement, except this time Harry walked down to the second floor instead of up to the seventh. He easily located the girls' bathroom and found the right tap. A few hisses later, the wall opened up and Harry pulled his shrunk Star Sweeper from his bag, resized it and flew down the steep tunnel, hissing for the wall to close behind him. He lit his wand and flew the whole way down to the second door that required a parseltongue command to open. Once there harry dismounted and quietly walked inside the Chamber of Secrets. He checked his watch. They were very close to sunrise now. Technically, you could kill a basilisk with a cockerel's crow at any time of the day, Harry was sure, but from what he'd learned over the years, the first crow of a cockerel at sunrise was the strongest one to instantly slay a basilisk, so Harry was taking no risks.

He pulled the Governor out of his bag and held him closely while waking him up. The Governor didn't seem to like being held, but kept it together for the most part.

Another check of his watch told him it was time. Harry hissed, the statue opened, and then he cast the Imperius curse on the Governor and ordered him to crow like he'd never crowed before.

The Governor did not disappoint, throwing his head back and releasing a truly magnificent crow that echoed around the chamber for at least half a minute. Harry could hear brief trashing and thumping coming from inside the statue but it quickly turned silent.

Well, that had been easy, assuming the basilisk had just died. Harry cast a quick spell to check for any signs of life within the chamber, but he only got two in return, himself and the Governor. He released the Governor so he could peck around the room and stretch his legs, while Harry very carefully climbed inside the statue's open mouth. He cast the spell again to check for signs of life, just to be sure, but again it came back negative and Harry lit up his wand and saw the coiled body of the basilisk. The head was lowered and the eyes were closed. Harry watched its body carefully for at least a few minutes but he could detect no signs of breathing.

Well, it had been that easy, apparently. If only he'd known that in his second year.

Harry levitated the dead basilisk out of the hole and into the large chamber and then he pulled all the shrunken crates from his bag and got to work.

As Harry methodically broke apart the carcass, storing every little part of it in crates and jars and boxes, he realized he was going to be a very rich young witch. The basilisk was huge and was worth millions, probably, by modern standards. Harry didn't feel sorry for killing the beast. He felt some sympathy that the animal had been locked up all by itself for centuries, sure, but ultimately a creature like a basilisk had no business living beneath a school and Harry had no clue where else to put it. Besides, basilisk parts were so rare that it was downright stupid to not sell them and make Potioneers around the globe extremely happy. Harry wanted to kick his 12-year-old self for never having realized that since he killed the beast, he could have claimed the carcass for himself, to sell its parts.

And butchering an animal like that didn't bother Harry much either. He'd been working with all sorts of animal parts while brewing potions since he was 11 years old. What was one more murder serpent compared to that?

Harry had told his family he wouldn't be home for lunch, which was a good thing because it took him most of the day to cut up the beast and secure it under heavy preservation charms in all the containers. Harry kept two fangs dripping with venom for himself, locked up in a dedicated metal box he'd charmed to withstand the venom. Just in case Riddle ended up making horcruxes again and Harry needed some tools to get rid of those fucking things again. He also kept reasonable amounts of all parts of the animal for his own collection, so he could experiment with basilisk blood and bone at a later date. He also reserved a long stretch of skin for himself, to be made into clothing at some point. Perhaps some nice battle robes. Then again, the life Harry was planning for himself now didn't really call for battle robes, so he'd just keep the skin preserved for now and decide later what to do with it.

Finally, Harry was done and he loaded everything up, tracked down the Governor who he found wandering around in one of the pipes, and then he easily made his way back to the surface, thanks to his broom.

Harry got home just in time to prepare his family some dinner after cleaning himself off with a few quick charms. The Governor returned to the yard where he immediately pranced around like the brave bird that he was, happily showing off for his girls.

"Did you have fun?" Evelyn asked as they all sat down to eat.

"Yes, I had a great day," Harry said honestly. He'd just become a millionaire. His Gringotts vault just didn't know it yet, but would very soon.

The next morning Harry visited Gringotts first thing.

Steelclaw, Harry's account manager, looked at Harry in mild disbelief when Harry started unloading crate after crate in his office.

"You actually killed a 1000-year-old basilisk?" Steelclaw asked, disbelief also obvious in his voice.

"Well, technically the Governor did," Harry replied as he kept unloading. It had been a very big basilisk, after all.

"The Governor?"

Harry shot the goblin a quick grin. "My family's cockerel."

"Ah." Steelclaw chuckled. "It will still count as your kill in the goblin community. Many will want to hear the tale of your bravery."

Finally, the last crate was stacked against the wall and Harry turned towards Steelclaw and shrugged. "There's very little to the tale, I'm afraid. I just got lucky and learned where a basilisk was located. I brought the Governor along and made him crow at sunrise. That's it, really."

"And where did you locate such a beast, if I may ask?" Steelclaw asked delicately, jaw tight with anxious curiosity.

"Hogwarts," Harry said and he was very amused to see Steelclaw's jaw drop. "Yeah, I know. That's one of the reasons I did away with that beast."

"Indeed, one could scarcely imagine a worse place to house a basilisk." Steelclaw shook his head. "I will catalogue everything you have for sale and I will start selling it in small quantities, negotiating the very best prices."

"I know you will," Harry said with a deep nod. Steelclaw's income was a percentage of the selling price, so Harry was certain the goblin was going to be absolutely ruthless in his negotiations. "Just please don't mention my name."

"Your identity will remain a secret, I swear it," Steelclaw said formally, and Harry left soon after that so his account manager could get to work and make them both very, very rich.

Once Harry stepped out of the bank, he glanced in the direction of Knockturn Alley. He really shouldn't, he knew that, but Harry was curious what Riddle was up to. Or perhaps Harry wanted to visit Riddle now that Harry had irrevocably changed Riddle's future by killing the basilisk, even if Riddle had no idea such a thing had even happened.

Whatever the reason, Harry wanted to pay his prophesized enemy a visit, and he'd never been good at impulse control, so off to the bookstore he went.