Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the intellectual property associated with Harry Potter.

Hi all,

Here's the next chapter. Sorry this chapter was super late, but I have been super busy at work. The next chapter should be posted on Tuesday.

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6th September

It was the first day of official classes, and the students were in the Great Hall, enjoying their last bit of freedom before they had to worry about things like homework. Harry was sitting with the girls, eating a hearty breakfast of pancakes, bacon and eggs. He didn't usually eat so much for breakfast, but his appetite had skyrocketed since he woke up in the Hospital Wing.

Harry looked up as the owls appeared in the Great Hall, flying down from the rafters. They were delivering copies of the Daily Prophet, as well as last-minute gifts from the students' parents. To his surprise, three owls flew down and landed in front of Daphne, Hermione, and himself. A regal-looking tawny owl, with black feathers and a distinctive gold crest, held out a letter to him.

"I wonder who sent me a letter?" Harry murmured, untying the letter from the owl's leg. He gave the owl a strip of bacon from his plate, which it gobbled up before flying off.

"I know what mine is," Daphne said, holding up a package that was obviously a book. "Mother sent me the Occlumency book I requested."

"What's Occlumency?" Hermione asked. She held a copy of the Daily Prophet in her hands, having subscribed to the newsletter to keep abreast of wizarding news.

"It's a discipline that has a number of benefits but is primarily used as a defence against Legilimencers," Daphne explained. "It is possible for them to read your surface thoughts or even deeper thoughts, depending on how proficient they are."

"That sounds horrible and illegal," Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"It is illegal," Tracy said. "But it can be difficult to prove. It takes a lot of patience and discipline to learn them, so they are not commonly practised."

"Have any of you learned it?" Hermione asked, looking intrigued.

"I know the basics," Daphne replied. "Harry wants me to teach him, so I asked Mother to send me the introductory book so he could get started."

"Can you teach me?" Hermione asked, almost bouncing in her seat.

"Sure," Daphne smirked at her friend's eagerness.

Hermione sometimes showed glimpses of her old self. She told them that she used to be a know-it-all and found it challenging to make friends due to her obsession with knowledge. However, when she started attending secondary school, she found a group of like-minded friends that allowed her to mellow out and have more fun outside of academics. That, and a couple of years of maturity under her belt, she was much better at socialising with her peers. Harry didn't think it would have been as easy to make friends with her if he met her a couple of years ago.

Harry opened his letter and smiled when he spotted Gabrielle's signature at the bottom. "It's from Gabrielle," he told Daphne.

"What does she have to say?" Daphne asked.

Harry noticed that a few nearby students were straining their ears, looking to eavesdrop on their conversation. "Not here. Let's find somewhere to read it before our first class."

Daphne nodded and returned to her breakfast.

Speaking of classes, his grandmother came around the table, handing out their class schedules.

"Good morning. I trust you are ready for your first class," Minerva said, handing them their schedules.

"Morning grandmother."

"Harry, you will have to address me as Professor McGonagall during school hours."

"Okay, Professor McGonagall," Harry said mock-seriously..

"I don't want any of your cheekiness, Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall looked at the phoenix perched on his shoulder with a frown. "Fawkes will have to stay in your room while you are attending your classes."

Fawkes squawked in protest.

"Sucks to be you," Harry patted Fawkes sympathetically.

"Why don't you have him hang out with the Headmaster in his office?" Daphne suggested. "That way, he will have some company."

Fawkes trilled, looking pleased with the compromise. After considering the suggestion for a moment, McGonagall nodded. "That is acceptable. Come with me, Fawkes. I will take you to the Headmaster."

Fawkes jumped off Harry's shoulder and into McGonagall's waiting hands. "I will see you in class later this morning," she said before leaving.

"We have Transfiguration today?" Harry perused his schedule.

"At eleven," Daphne confirmed. "Thankfully, we don't have double classes today."

"And no potions either," Harry cheered.

"Potions is my favourite class," Daphne glared at him.

"Will Snape be your favourite teacher?" Harry challenged, and she had no comeback to that.

"Professor Snape, Harry," Hermione corrected him.

They had all heard how unpleasant Snape was in class. Aside from that, he also had a special hatred for Gryffindors and favoured his Slytherins, which is why they won the House Cup the last few years. Perhaps they should have chosen Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw to spare themselves from Snape's wrath.

The four of them left the table early to pick up the books and equipment they needed for today's classes. Before they left for Herbology, Harry took out Gabrielle's letter, and read it with Daphne.

Dear Harry and Daphne,

I have arrived at Beauxbatons and started my classes. I imagine that the lazy Hogwarts students are still sitting around and twiddling their thumbs. The subjects are easy so far, but my Maman has given me a solid foundation to prepare me for school. I expect to be top of my class by the end of the year, of course. Unfortunately, the Care of Magical Creatures class is not taught until the third year, so I have to be patient. That will not stop me from interacting with the magnificent creatures Beauxbatons have to offer, however.

I have made a friend. Her name is Aimee, but she is not Veela. I know I run the risk of her turning on me when she starts getting interested in boys, but for now, I enjoy her company. We share an interest in magical creatures, so it's no surprise we gravitate toward each other.

How are you two getting along? I am really jealous that you two get to spend so much time together. If it wasn't for your ignorant Ministry of Magic that labelled Veela dark creatures, I may have attended Hogwarts. I am sure the two of you would have protected me from the boys.

I am already counting down the days until we see each other again over the Christmas holidays. Take care, and send me a letter ASAP, or I will be very angry.

Love,

Gabrielle

"She sounds like a spoiled princess," Daphne laughed.

"Yeah, she reminds me of someone else I know," Harry grinned and had to dodge out of the way when Daphne tried to smack him.

"We can write a letter later tonight, and have Hedwig deliver it for us," Harry said. "Before she gets angry because there is no mail to deliver."

"You can always send a letter to your grandfather," Daphne reminded him.

"I'll wait a few days," Harry shook his head.

The two of them headed outside and around to the back of the castle where the greenhouses were located. Professor Sprout was already waiting for them. She was a dumpy middle-aged witch who looked amiable and down to earth. Her charges held her in high regard as she was the Head of House for Hufflepuff.

Once the entire class arrived, she led them into greenhouse one.

The Gryffindors shared Herbology class with the Hufflepuffs, and the two houses got along well.

"Four students at each table," Professor Sprout called. "I'd like two Grffindors and two Hufflepuffs to share a table."

They were paired with Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones. The former was a blonde-haired girl who was cheerful and cute in a girl-next-door way. Susan Bones was a beautiful red-haired witch with a chest that was even larger than Lavender Browns. It was awkward interacting with Susan at first because Harry remembered that she was one of the girls that raised her hand when Fred asked the Great Hall about a third girlfriend.

"Are we all settled?" Professor Sprout asked, looking around. "Good. Before we start, I would like to discuss some safety measures. Greenhouse One has no dangerous magical plants, with the exception of Devil's Snare."

She pointed out several masses around the room, which turned out to be living plants. They were primarily made of soft, springy tendrils and vines. Harry recoiled as a nearby Devil Snare reached out and tried to ensnare him. He had not even noticed it until now, as it remained still, waiting to ambush him.

"The creepers and tendrils of this plant ensnare anyone who comes into contact with them, binding their arms and legs and eventually choking them to death," Professor Sprout said with utter seriousness. "The most dangerous thing you can do in this situation is struggle. You must remain still and not panic. Eventually, the plant will lose interest and release you. If that doesn't work, it has two specific weaknesses. Do you know what they are?"

Hermione, Daphne and Neville raised their hands, and Professor Sprout pointed at the latter.

"Fire and light," Neville said simply.

"Correct. Five points for Gryffindor." Professor Sprout beamed. "A simple Fire-Making Charm may suffice to deal with a Devil's Snare. Now we will pot some plants today, so everyone, please put on your gloves."

The rest of the class was straightforward. They had to transfer some magical plants into pots. It was messy work, especially because one of the plants wriggled around, not wanting to be planted. Already, Harry could tell that Herbology was not going to be his favourite subject. He looked at Daphne standing beside him, who potted the plants quickly and efficiently.

"I wish I was as good as you," Susan said, watching her.

"My family is in the business of growing plants for potion ingredients," Daphne said. "I have hands-on experience."

"The only thing my aunt taught me was some spells to protect myself," Susan said glumly.

"Why are you upset?" Harry asked, wiping a streak of dirt off his face. "You will have a leg up over the rest of us in defence."

"Susan doesn't like fighting," Hannah said cheerfully.

"Hannah, quiet," Susan hissed, turning red in the face.

"How about an exchange of knowledge?" Daphne asked with a thoughtful expression. "You teach us some defence spells, and we help with other subjects."

"Like a study group?" Hannah squealed.

"Miss Abbot, is there a problem?" Professor Sprout stopped at their table.

"No. Sorry professor," Hannah said sheepishly.

"Please keep the noise down."

The class ended and the students returned to the castle for their next lesson. Hermione and Tracy were brought into the discussion about forming a study group, and they were all in favour of it. They decided to share a table at lunchtime to iron out the details.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was a major disappointment. Professor Quirrell appeared to be afraid of his own shadow and had a horrible stutter that made it difficult to understand him. This was especially egregious, considering the man's curriculum was mostly theory. The class copied notes from the chalkboard and read from their copy of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.

Harry couldn't figure out why he was still cautious about the man. His instincts told him there was something wrong, but he wasn't sure what it was. He couldn't dislike the man simply because he was a terrible teacher, and his class smelled overwhelmingly of garlic. He could have sworn that the man had been staring at him a few times, but couldn't catch him in the act.

Transfiguration was next, and so Harry hurried to class, with the girls chasing after him. He didn't want to be late for the first class that his grandmother taught. He would never hear the end of it. They entered the classroom, and they were the first to arrive. He spotted his grandmother sitting at the desk, in her Animagus form.

The girls sat at the front of the class, and looked at the cat in confusion. Apparently, they missed the memo about his grandmother being an Animagus. Harry locked eyes with her and smirked when he had a brilliant idea for a prank.

Harry walked towards the desk, and the cat's eyes narrowed into slits as if she suspected something. He picked her up, ignoring her hiss and presented the cat to the girls.

"Do you know who this is?" Harry asked.

"It's a cat, Harry," Daphne said dryly.

"Not just any cat," Harry denied, hugging the cat close to his chest as she squirmed in his arms. "This is Minnie. The resident stray cat at Hogwarts. She was abandoned here years ago, and nobody wants to give her a home."

"But she is beautiful," Hermione cried.

"I know," Harry said in a solemn tone, but he was laughing inside.

"Why haven't I heard of her before?" Daphne asked suspiciously. Tracy seemed to know what was happening as she looked down, biting her lip to stop herself from giving the prank away.

"Because people are callous," Harry sighed. "Why would they gossip about a mere stray cat?"

"What can we do?" Hermione said, looking determined. She was completely hooked, so she would be the target of his prank.

"Would you like to adopt her?" Harry asked as the cat squirmed even harder. "As you can see, she doesn't like me."

"Well..." Hermione hesitated, looking torn.

"I know a familiar spell that will help the two of you form a bond," Harry said, placing the cat on Hermione's desk. Give her no time to think about how ridiculous it sounds. "Repeat after me. I, Hermione Granger."

"I, Hermione Granger-"

"Do so solemnly swear."

"Do so solemnly swear," Hermione repeated.

"That I will adopt this cat."

Hermione repeated the line.

"The one named-"

"The one named-"

"Professor McGonagall," Harry finished.

"Professor Mc...what?!"

As Harry released his grandmother, he collapsed on the floor, laughing uncontrollably.

Hermione looked confused until his grandmother returned to her human form and glared at her grandson. Upon realising that Harry had pranked her, Hermione shook her head in disgust. At their desks, Daphne and Tracy were giggling madly.

"Harry Potter," Hermione screeched, marching forward, looking like she was about to take a swing at him.

"All right, that's enough," Professor McGonagall said. "Take your seats. The class will start soon."

"But..." Hermione protested.

"I could take some points from Gryffindor to punish Harry if you like," Professor McGonagall suggested. "It was a harmless prank. However, if I find out Sirius has been teaching Harry some inappropriate habits, I will have a word with him."

Hermione shut her mouth and sat down, not wanting to lose house points. As soon as Professor McGonagall's back was turned, she kicked Harry hard in the shin as he was about to sit down. Harry hissed, rubbing his shin. The girl certainly had a violent streak.

"Totally worth it," Harry grinned.

"Prat."

The first half of the class was purely theoretical as Professor McGonagall taught them the basics of Transfiguration. She repeatedly stressed how dangerous it was, and the consequences if she caught students practising without supervision. Harry paid extra attention, as this was one class he wanted to do well in. He didn't want to disappoint his grandmother after all.

"Transfiguration relies more on intent than any other branch of magic," Professor McGonagall explained. "Can anyone tell me what intent is?"

Hermione was the only one to raise her hand, so Professor McGonagall chose her.

"Intent is the desire to achieve something. It usually has an emotional component to it, which has an effect on certain types of magic. As an example, a dark curse is easier to cast when you want to harm someone physically or enjoy hurting others."

"That's a good explanation," Professor McGonagall said approvingly. "Five points for Gryffindor. Can anyone expand on that?"

When nobody else raised their hands, she glanced at Harry, who sighed and ordered his thoughts to come up with a coherent answer. In spite of his lack of interest in subjects unrelated to Artisans, he wasn't completely ignorant of them. His grandmother hadn't taught him anything about magic before he came here, but he studied quite a bit. He explored magic on his own and formed his own opinions, which is probably what his grandmother wanted.

"My understanding of intent is that it not only has an emotional component," Harry said, "but it works by understanding the spell's very nature. It's not hard to understand someone wanting to cause physical pain, as we see it in our everyday lives. The world is filled with violence. However, it is hard to understand the concept of transforming a needle into a matchstick, or vice versa, because that's not something we instinctively know.

"It is why Transfiguration is the hardest kind of practical magic. Because changing the very essence of something is pretty hard to comprehend at the fundamental level. It's a subject where having a deep knowledge of what you are trying to transform helps you achieve the result you want. To come back to what intent is, I believe it is a combination of willpower, emotion, and knowledge. It requires at least one of these aspects to successfully cast a spell."

Professor McGonagall stared at him proudly. "That is an excellent understanding of intent. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Seamus raised his hand, and McGonagall nodded at him. "Professor, why should we be surprised that he knows this stuff? He is your grandson. You probably taught him a lot of magic before he came to Hogwarts."

Professor McGonagall stared at him unimpressed. "Do you want to know how much magic I taught my grandson? Barely anything at all."

The students expressed surprise and a healthy dose of scepticism.

"Do you want to know why? Because a crucial part of understanding magic is the ability to think critically, which is sadly lacking in this day and age. Rather than imposing my own knowledge and experiences onto him from the beginning, I wanted him to explore his own interpretation of magic."

Professor McGonagall handed out matchsticks to everyone and showed them the spell to convert them into needles. Harry concentrated on his matchstick, visualising the change he wanted, and said the incantation.

'Acusignis.'

To his surprise, he showed some results on the first try. It was subtle, but his matchstick turned a faint silver in some places. Looking around, he saw that only Hermione and Daphne showed results. Turning back to his matchstick, he continued to try and transform it. By the end of the class, only he, Hermione and Daphne managed to transform their matchsticks into needles. This earned more points for the Gryffindors. Tracy managed half of the transformation, turning her matchstick completely silver.

After class, they headed down to the Great Hall for lunch. The four of them joined Susan and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table, which raised a few eyebrows.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks waved at them. "Have you decided to join the most prestigious house?"

"In your dreams Tonks," Harry replied.

"If only you could see my dreams," Tonks winked. "I'm sure you would pass out from excitement."

During lunch, they talked about their small study group. Hermione pulled out a notebook and started taking notes to the amusement of the others.

"We need to find a place to study," Daphne said. "We were searching for a room when Harry decided to kiss the floor."

"Why did you have to put it like that?" Harry protested.

"It sounds better than you assaulting Hermione," Tracy smirked, referring to how he fell into her back.

Harry rolled his eyes as the girls giggled. He was the only male in the study group. Hopefully, he could get some guys to join to balance things out.

"We can search for a place for our group on our own after classes," Hermione suggested. "An abandoned classroom is the most likely."

"We can always get permission to use it after we find one," Susan nodded.

As they were finishing their lunch, his grandmother approached the table. "Harry, the Headmaster would like to see you in his office after your last class of the day."

"Why does he want to see me?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"It's nothing serious, just something he wants to discuss with you. Do you know where the Headmaster's office is located?"

"On the seventh floor," Harry said. "Are you not coming with me?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "He told me what he would discuss with you, and I trust him implicitly. The password to access his office is Eargit."

"Okay," Harry shrugged.

They climbed to the second floor where the Charms classroom was located. Now that Headmaster Flitwick was no longer teaching, they had to hire someone else to teach Charms. As the newly appointed professor wasn't at the opening feast, it came as a complete surprise when he opened the door and spotted a familiar figure standing behind her desk.

"Mrs Rosier," Harry blurted, hurrying forward. "You're the Charms professor?"

"That's Professor Rosier, Mr Potter," Violet said with a smile. "It is good to see you doing well."

"How did you become a professor? It doesn't seem like something you'd like to do."

"Thank your grandmother," Professor Rosier said. "She made some convincing arguments. I have a Charms Mastery that was not being utilised, and I was bored sitting at home dealing with my family."

"Have you heard from Lewis?"

Professor Rosier grimaced. "No. I have searched, but there is no trace of him so far."

Disheartened, Harry made his way to his seat. He had fond memories of Lewis, who had made his life slightly more bearable and given him the opportunity to earn some money. He still felt like he owed the man, and he still wanted to repay him someday.

Professor Rosier taught them the Levitation Charm first. Harry grinned, confident since he had already learned the spell. So it came as a huge surprise when his feather shot to the ceiling with enough force that the tip embedded itself in the ceiling. Harry stared at the feather in bewilderment.

"You overpowered the spell, Mr Potter," Professor Rosier said, standing next to his desk.

"I don't understand," Harry frowned. "I have done that spell dozens of times and haven't had any problems casting it before."

He didn't have any problems with the Transfiguration lesson. It may have been because it was more about intent and less about how much magic was used to perform the spell.

Professor Rosier hummed. "Have you had any recent incidents that may have affected your magic?"

"Actually, there was something. But I don't want to get into here," Harry said, looking around.

"You don't have to tell me what it is, Mr Potter. But whatever happened, you may have increased your magic reserves, which affected your control. I suggest you use the rest of your class time to become accustomed to the power increase. Just be careful and don't aim your wand at the other students."

By the end of the class, Harry had made some progress in controlling his magic. Still, he needed to improve it further.

The last two classes of the day were Astronomy and History of Magic. The former was held in the Astronomy Tower, the tallest tower in the castle, so it was definitely a workout climbing the stairs. Fortunately, they didn't have to attend class at midnight. A former student, an Enchanter, had installed a special planetarium that allowed them to observe space during the day. Since it was projected onto the dome ceiling, it was certainly a spectacle to watch.

He understood that Astronomy held importance in several fields of magic. One of particular interest to him was Rituals. It was a category of magic where runes and specific sacrifices were used as a means of granting benefits to the user, such as strengthening their bodies and enhancing their magic. The Ministry labelled it Dark, so it was a very controversial subject. Although he knew it could be dangerous, as it was easy to go too far, he was still interested in it.

As far as Harry was concerned, History of Magic was the most boring class yet. Professor Binns' voice hypnotised the class and at least half of them fell asleep at their desks. Harry decided that the subject would be easier if he read the books instead. He pulled out his equipment to continue working on his Spell Card. Professor Binns didn't notice, but Hermione certainly did. She wasn't shy about expressing her disapproval.

After class, he separated from the others and made his way up to the Headmaster's Office on the seventh floor. He stopped when he reached the gargoyle statue guarding the entrance.

"Eargit," Harry said, and the gargoyle slid back, revealing stairs ascending upwards. He climbed the winding staircase and knocked on the door.

"Enter," a voice said from the other side, and Harry opened the door and entered the office.

"Mr Potter, welcome to my humble abode," Professor Flitwick said in his usual squeaky voice. "Please sit down."

"Hello, Headmaster. You wanted to see me?"

Harry sat down in the chair in front of the oak desk. A small stand was placed there, with Fawkes perched on it. He greeted him with a trill but did not move from his spot. Looking around, Harry could see that the office was still in the process of being redecorated to suit Headmaster Flitwick's tastes. He spotted a shelf with an assortment of odd gadgets on it.

Headmaster Flitwick followed his gaze. "They belonged to Dumbledore. I still haven't gotten rid of them yet."

"What are they used for?"

"A few of them were used to monitor and control you," Flitwick said.

Harry's spine tingled. "They were tied to the necklace I used to wear?"

"Yes," Flitwick nodded. "Let's avoid any more unpleasant topics. How are you finding Hogwarts so far?"

"It's cool," Harry shrugged. "I enjoy some classes more than others."

"So, just like any other student," Flitwick smiled.

"Why did you want to see me, sir?" Harry asked, getting to the heart of the matter.

Flitwick sighed, "It concerns Dumbledore. Considering how obsessed he is with you, there's always the chance he will find a way to sneak back into the castle to kidnap you."

"Um, don't you control the Hogwarts Wards?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid the Headmaster has left them in disarray. It's taking me a long time to unravel them and sort out what is actually needed, and what is redundant. I am sure that there are several important wards that need to be activated, but I'm finding it difficult to locate them. If I was more paranoid, I would think that Dumbledore planned for this, in the event that he was removed from the castle."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Harry muttered.

"Indeed," Professor Flitwick laughed. "Sometimes I wonder why I took on this responsibility. In any case, I may not be Headmaster come next year."

"Why not?"

"I am a half-breed, a mix between human and goblin. You may already know this, but there is not much tolerance for my kind in the halls of the Ministry. I suspect that there are already some people scheming to remove me as Headmaster."

"They are stupid," Harry said."You should be judged based on your abilities, not your race."

"You won't hear me argue with that," Flitwick said. "I've got a solution that will make your stay at the castle safer."

"What is it?"

"Wobny," Flitwick called, and a house-elf appeared in front of them, startling Harry.

"You calls me, Headmaster Flickwey?"

Harry grinned at the butchering of the headmaster's name. The elf resembled other house elves Harry had met. He stood three feet tall and wore an old pillowcase that was modified to fit him.

"Wobny, this is your charge, Harry Potter," Flitwick said before looking at the house-elf. "Wobny will be at your disposal. Feel free to call him if you are ever in trouble or require assistance. Do not abuse that privilege. If I find out you are using him for mischief or breaking the rules, there will be consequences."

"Right," Harry nodded. "Is there anything else?"

"No, there is nothing else," Flitwick said, sitting back in his seat. "It was nice meeting you, Mr Potter."

"Likewise, Headmaster," Harry said, moving towards the door.

As he was walking down the seventh-floor corridor, an idea occurred to him. "Wobny?"

Wobny appeared. "Hows can I help you, Mr Potter, sir?"

My friends are forming a study group. Can you suggest a place where we can study without being disturbed?"

Wobny pointed over Harry's shoulder. "There is the Come-and-Go-Room."

He turned around only to see a blank wall in front of him. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the house elf.

"You must pace up and down three times and think about what you need," Wobny said. "Then the door will appear."

Despite feeling somewhat foolish, he followed Wobny's suggestion and paced past the section of the wall three times while trying to think of a suitable room for studying.

Harry gasped as a solid bronze door appeared on the wall out of nowhere. He approached it and opened it. Peering inside, he was amazed to see a sizable room that looked similar to the Gryffindor common room. According to Wobny, the room responded to his desires, so he must have subconsciously been thinking of it, despite it not being the most suitable place to study.

Wobny followed him inside the room.

"Wobny, how does this room work? Is there any limit to what it can create?"

"There be limits, Mr Potter, sir. You cannot conjure food or any object that is not already located in the castle. But there be lots of hidden things in Hogwarts, lots of hidden rooms that not even the elves know about, so the sky be the limit, sir."

He was sure the girls would be excited to see this room. It would be a good idea for him to go and get them before they got too involved in searching for another location. As he was about to leave the room, something occurred to him, as if a voice was whispering a suggestion in his ear. Maybe his Animagus was influencing him again.

"Wobny, I know this room can create almost anything, but does it have a default state? A room it reverts to when it's not used?"

"You be talking about the Room of Hidden Things, Mr Potter, sir. But you needs to leave the room first to reset it. Then think of needing the Room of Hidden Things."

Harry followed Wobny's instructions, and when he finally opened the door again, he almost cried out in excitement. The room inside was similar in size to the Great Hall, and it was literally bursting at the seams with broken and discarded items, too numerous to count.

It looked like a supersized junk shop. He was in paradise.

So, what do you think? Things will pick up speed soon. I am not going to spend too much time on classes.

Thanks for reading.