Chapter 9

I own nothing. All characters and places belong to their respective franchises and companies.

With a loud pop and a rush of air, the warp pipe deposited the group into the basement of an abandoned warehouse. The first to land was Hagrid, who stumbled slightly but quickly regained his balance. "Blimey," he muttered, dusting himself off, "that's still quite the ride."

Harry emerged next, landing lightly on his feet and looking around with curiosity. The basement was dim and musty, its walls lined with crumbling bricks and cobwebbed shelves. Shafts of sunlight peeked through cracks in the boarded-up windows above, and the faint smell of mildew lingered in the air.

Kamek came flying out of the pipe next, still astride his broomstick, floating a few feet above the ground. "Well, that wasn't so bad," he remarked, adjusting his glasses. He hovered around the room, inspecting the surroundings with his usual critical eye. "Humans really do have a talent for picking the drabbest places to hide important things."

Finally, Bowser stepped out, his massive frame making the ground tremble slightly beneath him. He straightened, his fiery gaze scanning the room as he sniffed the air. "This place smells like it's been rotting for decades. And people actually use this?"

"It's abandoned," Hagrid explained, straightening his coat. "Good place to keep the pipe hidden from Muggles."

Kamek, still lazily hovering, let out a snort. "Hmph. Practical, I suppose, but I can't imagine anyone staying here for long."

Hagrid turned to him, his beetle-black eyes widening slightly. "Er, Kamek," he said cautiously, "you might want to set that broom down. Flying's all well and good back where you come from, but if a Muggle sees ya, it'll cause all kinds o' trouble."

Kamek blinked, clearly affronted. "What's wrong with flying? It's efficient!"

Hagrid raised his hands placatingly. "Aye, but Muggles don't know about magic, and a fella floating about's bound to scare 'em senseless."

Bowser shot Kamek a sharp look. "Just do it. We're not here to stir up trouble."

With an exaggerated sigh, Kamek descended from his broomstick, his feet touching the dusty floor with a reluctant thud. "Fine. But let it be known this is a waste of my considerable talents."

Hagrid chuckled, patting Kamek on the back, almost knocking him off balance. "Good lad. Now, let's get movin'. Diagon Alley's not far from here."

Harry glanced at Bowser as they headed toward a creaky staircase leading up to the main floor. "What do we do if someone asks who we are?"

"They won't," Bowser growled, his massive human disguise only slightly muting his commanding presence. "And if they do, they'll wish they hadn't."

Harry smirked at the familiar bravado, feeling a spark of confidence. As they reached the top of the stairs and Hagrid pushed open the door, the sounds of London spilled in—honking cars, distant chatter, and the hum of city life. The transition was stark compared to the quiet of the Mushroom Kingdom, but it carried its own kind of energy.

Hagrid gestured for them to follow, leading the way out of the warehouse. "Stick close, and we'll get ya sorted. Diagon Alley's got everything you'll need for Hogwarts."

Harry adjusted his wristbands, his nerves settling as he glanced between Bowser and Kamek.

The group stepped out of the warehouse and onto the bustling streets of London. For a moment, Harry, Bowser, and Kamek stood still, taking in the sights and sounds of the Muggle world. Cars zipped by on the road, their engines rumbling, while pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks, some with phones pressed to their ears or shopping bags swinging at their sides. The hum of conversation, laughter, and distant music filled the air.

Harry's eyes darted around, wide with fascination. "It's so... loud," he muttered.

Kamek, walking begrudgingly instead of flying, adjusted his glasses as he observed a bright red double-decker bus rolling by. "Primitive, yet efficient," he remarked. "The lack of magic makes their contraptions quite impressive. Though I'd prefer a broomstick any day."

Bowser grunted, his towering, human-disguised form drawing occasional curious glances from passersby. "They build a lot of stuff. I'll give them that. Look at those towers," he said, gesturing toward the distant skyscrapers. "Not bad for a bunch of magicless folks."

Hagrid chuckled, leading the group through the winding streets. "Muggles've got their ways, I'll give 'em that. But wait till you see Diagon Alley—that's a sight worth rememberin'."

As they walked, Harry caught sight of a street performer juggling flaming batons, a crowd gathered around in awe. "Is that magic?" he asked, pointing.

"Nah," Hagrid said with a grin. "Just a bit o' Muggle showmanship. Impressive, though, ain't it?"

Even Bowser nodded slightly. "Takes skill," he admitted, though his tone remained gruff.

The group continued until they reached a narrow, unassuming alleyway. At the end of it stood a small, weathered pub with a sign creaking in the breeze: The Leaky Cauldron. Its shabby appearance blended seamlessly with the surrounding buildings, unnoticed by the busy Muggles passing by.

Hagrid pushed open the door, and the warm, dingy, yet cozy interior of the pub greeted them. The scent of roasting meat and freshly baked bread wafted through the air, and the low hum of chatter from its patrons filled the room. At the bar, Tom, the balding innkeeper with a toothy grin, looked up as they entered.

"Ah, Hagrid!" Tom called out, polishing a glass with a rag. "Here for the usual?"

Hagrid shook his head with a booming laugh. "Not today, Tom. Got an errand to run—taking young Harry here to get his school supplies."

The room fell silent.

Tom froze, his glass slipping slightly in his hand. His eyes widened as he leaned over the bar, looking at Harry as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then, his voice rang out, full of awe. "Bless my soul… It's Harry Potter!"

The pub erupted. Chairs scraped against the floor as patrons stood, craning their necks to get a better look. Voices overlapped, excitement bubbling through the crowd.

"Harry Potter? Here?"
"The boy who lived!"

People began approaching cautiously, their faces a mix of wonder and reverence. Hands extended toward Harry, though many seemed hesitant to actually touch him, as though he were made of something sacred.

Harry froze under the sudden attention, his green eyes darting around nervously. "Uh… hello," he managed, his voice barely audible over the rising tide of voices.

Before the crowd could swarm him, Bowser stepped forward, his massive frame—even in disguise—radiating authority. He placed a protective hand on Harry's shoulder, his fiery eyes scanning the crowd. "Alright, that's enough," he growled, his voice a deep, commanding rumble. "Give the kid some room."

The crowd faltered, retreating slightly under Bowser's intimidating glare. Even disguised, his presence was enough to make most think twice about pressing further.

Hagrid chuckled nervously, raising his hands to calm the room. "Easy now, folks. Just passin' through. Harry's got a lot to get done today, so let's not overwhelm him, eh?"

Tom stepped out from behind the bar, wringing his hands with an apologetic smile. "Of course, of course. Apologies, young Mr. Potter. It's just… it's an honor, truly."

Harry managed a small smile, though his nerves were still evident. "Thanks… I guess."

The Leaky Cauldron was alive with activity as Harry, Bowser, Kamek, and Hagrid made their way through the bustling pub. Harry's eyes darted around, wide with fascination as he took in the floating candles, clinking mugs, and the hum of conversations in a dozen different accents. Bowser's towering figure drew a few curious glances, while Kamek floated beside him, studying the room with an air of quiet interest.

As they approached the rear of the pub, Hagrid suddenly stopped, his gaze landing on a wiry man hunched over a cup of tea at the bar. The man, pale and jittery, adjusted the deep purple turban on his head as though it was slipping, his wide eyes darting nervously around the room.

"Quirrell!" Hagrid called out, his booming voice carrying easily over the noise.

The man startled, nearly knocking over his cup, before turning toward them with a tremulous smile. "H-Hagrid," he stammered, his voice thin and wavering. "W-what a s-surprise."

Hagrid grinned, waving him over. "Come on, Professor. There's someone here yeh ought to meet."

The man shuffled forward, his movements hesitant and awkward, and his gaze landed on Harry. His pale face went even whiter, and he fidgeted with the edge of his turban. "H-Harry P-Potter?" he stammered, his hands trembling. "It's... it's an h-honor."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, offering a polite nod. "Uh, nice to meet you, Professor."

Hagrid gave Harry a warm smile. "This here's Professor Quirrell. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

Harry blinked, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked the man up and down. "Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"A-abs-solutely," Quirrell stuttered, wringing his hands nervously. "I-it's an i-important subject, and y-you'll f-find it q-quite fascinating."

Bowser stepped forward slightly, crossing his arms as he gave Quirrell a hard look. "This guy? He's teaching defense? He looks like he'd run screaming at the first sign of trouble."

Quirrell flinched at the harsh assessment, tugging at his turban as though it might somehow shield him from Bowser's fiery gaze. "I-I assure you, I'm q-quite capable," he stammered, though his voice trembled. "D-Dumbledore w-wouldn't've hired me if I w-wasn't."

Kamek floated a little closer, adjusting his glasses with a smirk. "Confidence doesn't appear to be your strong suit, Professor."

Hagrid stepped in, his expression slightly sheepish. "Now, now, he's got his quirks, sure, but Quirrell knows his stuff. Spent years travelin', studyin' dark creatures and curses. That turban o' his? Gift from some prince he helped out abroad."

Quirrell nodded rapidly, forcing a shaky smile. "Y-yes, w-well, it was a p-pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter. I... I'll see you at Hogwarts." He gave a quick, jerky bow before retreating back to the bar, his movements stiff and his gaze darting nervously.

Bowser watched him go, unimpressed. "If that's the guy teaching you to fight the dark arts, you're better off learning from me and Kamek."

Harry grinned faintly, glancing up at his father. "I wasn't planning to rely on him."

Kamek smirked, nodding. "Good. We'll make sure you're well ahead of whatever passes for 'defense' in his class."

Hagrid chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Give him a chance, eh? Quirrell's got his quirks, but he's brilliant in his own way. Dumbledore doesn't hire anyone who's not capable."

Bowser snorted but said nothing, turning toward the back of the pub. "Let's get moving. We're wasting time."

Hagrid nodded, motioning for them to follow. "Right, this way. Diagon Alley's just through here. Plenty more to see."

With one last glance toward the stammering professor at the bar, Harry followed the group toward the hidden entrance, his curiosity about the magical world growing with every step.

The crowd parted to let them through, murmurs of Harry's name rippling in their wake. Kamek adjusted his glasses, muttering to himself, "Humans and their theatrics. This is why I avoid public places."

Bowser snorted, his hand still resting protectively on Harry's shoulder as they walked. "They'll be lucky if I don't turn this place upside down the next time they pull something like that."

Harry glanced up at his father, his lips twitching into a faint grin despite the lingering discomfort. "Thanks, Dad."

Bowser gave him a small, reassuring nod. "No one's messing with you while I'm here."

As Hagrid led them toward the hidden entrance to Diagon Alley, Harry felt a mixture of awe and trepidation. This world was nothing like the Mushroom Kingdom, but with Bowser and Kamek by his side, he felt ready to take his first steps into the magical world.

Hagrid led the group through the dim, bustling interior of the Leaky Cauldron and out into a small, grimy courtyard at the back of the pub. Harry glanced around, feeling a flicker of disappointment. The courtyard was unremarkable, with brick walls on three sides and a few scattered weeds growing between the flagstones.

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked, turning to Hagrid.

"Patience, Harry," Hagrid said with a grin. He pointed to the far wall. "See that brick there? Three up, two across? That's the one we need."

Kamek adjusted his glasses, peering at the wall with skepticism. "An enchanted entrance? Crude but functional, I suppose."

Bowser crossed his arms, his fiery gaze fixed on the wall. "Let's see what you've got, giant."

Hagrid pulled out his pink umbrella, giving them all a conspiratorial wink. "Watch this." He stepped up to the wall and tapped the brick three times. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft rumble, the bricks began to move. They shifted and twisted, rearranging themselves with a faint clinking sound. Slowly, an archway began to form, growing wider and taller until it revealed a bustling cobbled street stretching out before them.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Hagrid said proudly.

Harry's jaw dropped as he stepped closer, the sight before him like nothing he'd ever seen. The narrow street was alive with activity. Witches and wizards in colorful robes bustled about, some carrying bags stuffed with purchases while others chatted animatedly in groups. Shop windows displayed everything from cauldrons and potion ingredients to brooms and shimmering robes. Owls hooted softly from their cages, and the scent of baked goods wafted from a distant cart. It was as if an entire world of magic had been hidden just behind an ordinary brick wall.

"This... this is incredible," Harry whispered, his green eyes wide as he took it all in. He turned to Hagrid. "I had no idea."

"It's somethin', isn't it?" Hagrid said with a chuckle. "First time I saw it, I reckon my jaw hit the ground too."

Bowser stepped through the archway, his human disguise doing little to diminish the sheer presence of his towering figure. His fiery gaze scanned the alley, lingering on a shop with enchanted brooms hovering in the window. "Hmph. Busy. Noisy. But... impressive," he admitted grudgingly.

Kamek floated just above the ground as he followed, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. "Fascinating," he muttered, spinning slowly to take in the sights. "The layering of enchantments on these shops is remarkable. Primitive, yes, but highly effective. I must document this."

Harry couldn't help but grin. Seeing Bowser and Kamek marveling at the wizarding world made him feel a bit more at ease. He turned back to Hagrid. "Where do we start?"

"First stop's Gringotts," Hagrid said, hefting the package back onto his shoulder. "You'll need money for your school supplies, and Gringotts is where all wizarding families keep their gold."

As they began walking down the street, Harry's excitement grew with every step. He glanced into shop windows, catching glimpses of potions bubbling in cauldrons, pointed hats on display, and stacks of books with titles that made his head spin. Everywhere he looked, there was something new and magical.

Bowser, ever the protective figure, kept close to Harry, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. "Stay close, kid. This place is packed, and I don't trust these wizards just yet."

Kamek floated beside them, his gaze darting between shops. "You'd better write all of this down later, Harry. This is the kind of world you'll want to remember in detail."Harry nodded, unable to suppress his grin as he eagerly agreed with the disguised Magikoopa.

The cobbled streets of Diagon Alley were a wonderland of magical shops and bustling wizards, but it was the towering white building at the far end of the alley that truly caught Harry's attention. Gringotts Bank loomed high above them, its marble steps shining in the sunlight. Two stern goblins in finely tailored uniforms stood at the entrance, their piercing eyes scanning everyone who passed through.

As the group ascended the steps, Harry noticed an engraved warning above the gleaming golden doors:

Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors,
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.

Harry tilted his head, reading the ominous words. "Cheerful," he muttered.

"Effective," Kamek replied, adjusting his glasses as he glanced at the goblins. "They mean business."

Bowser snorted. "Sounds like my kind of place."

As they approached, one of the goblins stepped forward, his sharp features unreadable. "State your business."

Hagrid cleared his throat, towering over the goblin but showing no signs of intimidation. "Here to take young Harry Potter to his vault, and I've got a request to visit Vault 713 as well."

The goblin's eyes flickered briefly with curiosity before he nodded. "Very well. Do you have Mr. Potter's key?"

Hagrid patted his coat pockets and pulled out a small golden key, handing it to the goblin, who examined it closely before nodding again. "This way."

Before the goblin could pocket the key, Bowser reached out and snatched it, his large hand—still disguised by Kamek's magic—dwarfing the tiny object. "I'll hold onto this," Bowser said, his voice firm.

The goblin raised an eyebrow but said nothing, leading the group through the grand marble hall filled with rows of goblins working at high desks. The sound of quills scratching parchment and the jingle of coins being counted filled the air. Harry's head swiveled as he took in the strange and stern atmosphere of the bank.

The goblin led them to a cart perched on a narrow set of tracks that disappeared into the dark, winding tunnels beneath the bank. "This will take us to the vaults," he said curtly, gesturing for them to climb aboard.

Harry and Bowser took the front seats, Bowser squeezing himself into the surprisingly sturdy cart. Kamek and Hagrid climbed in behind them, the former muttering under his breath about "barbaric modes of transportation."

As soon as the goblin took his place, the cart jerked forward with a lurch, accelerating rapidly. The tracks twisted and turned, diving into the depths of the bank. Harry laughed as the wind whipped through his hair, gripping the sides of the cart for balance.

"This is brilliant!" Harry shouted, his green eyes sparkling with excitement.

Bowser, his fiery grin wide, let out a booming laugh. "This almost beats the Mushroom Kingdom's tracks!"

Behind them, Kamek clung to the sides of the cart, his face pale. "This is madness!" he sputtered, while Hagrid looked similarly queasy, gripping the edge with white-knuckled hands.

"Fastest way to the vaults!" the goblin called over his shoulder, clearly enjoying the ride more than Kamek and Hagrid.

When the cart screeched to a halt, the goblin hopped out with practiced ease. "Vault 687. Key please." Bowser growled but handed it over to the goblin. "It comes right back to me. Got it?"

The goblin nodded and inserted the golden key into the lock, and the heavy door creaked open to reveal the vault's contents. Inside, mounds of gold, silver, and bronze coins gleamed under the torchlight. Immediately Bowser snatched the offered key back, tucking it away.

Harry stared, his brows furrowed in confusion. "This… this is mine?" he asked quietly.

Hagrid nodded, stepping forward. "Aye. Left to you by your parents, Harry. They wanted to make sure you'd always have enough."

Bowser crossed his arms, his fiery eyes scanning the vault. "They thought ahead," he said, a note of approval in his gruff voice. "Good on them."

Kamek hummed thoughtfully. "Impressive for humans, I suppose."

Harry stood at the threshold, feeling a mixture of gratitude and unease. While he appreciated the thought, the sight of the coins didn't awe him. After all, he'd lived in the Mushroom Kingdom since he was four, where gold coins were as common as blades of grass, and triple the size of these wizarding coins.

Bowser, however, stepped forward, pulling a bright golden-yellow coin box with white question marks out of seemingly nowhere. "This could use a little more," he rumbled, striding into the center of the vault.

"Your Majesty, what are you—" Kamek began, but Bowser raised a hand to silence him.

Tossing the box into the middle of the room, it floated serenely in place as Bowser raised his massive fist and, rearing back, punched it with his full strength, shaking the room from the force. The box let out a resounding clang and began spewing oversized gold coins distinctive to the Mushroom Kingdom, which rained down in a glittering cascade. The coins piled up until they mingled with the wizarding money, their sheen adding an otherworldly brilliance to the vault. The box remained floating, its purpose fulfilled.

The goblin, who had been watching impassively, blinked in astonishment. "I've... never seen anything like that."

Bowser smirked. "You have now. Consider it an upgrade."

Harry turned to his father, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thanks, Dad."

Bowser ruffled Harry's messy black hair. "Don't mention it. You're my kid. This is what we do."

As the door to Harry's vault closed, the goblin cleared his throat. "Now to Vault 713, as requested."

Harry glanced curiously at Hagrid. "What's in Vault 713?"

"Can't say," Hagrid said, his tone suddenly serious. "Hogwarts business. Professor Dumbledore said it needs to be secret."

They climbed back into the cart, Harry and Bowser laughing as the ride resumed, while Kamek and Hagrid braced themselves, looking more queasy than before.

The cart barreled through the winding tunnels, the air growing colder and damper as it descended deeper into the heart of Gringotts. Harry and Bowser whooped and laughed with every sharp turn and drop, the thrill of the ride undeniable. Kamek, on the other hand, grumbled under his breath, gripping the edge of the cart so tightly his knuckles turned pale. Hagrid wasn't faring much better, his face a queasy shade of green.

"Do these carts have to move so fast?" Kamek muttered, glaring at the goblin driving.

"Yes," the goblin replied curtly, his tone flat and uninterested. "Efficiency is a cornerstone of our operations."

When the cart finally screeched to a halt, the goblin disembarked with practiced ease, gesturing toward the imposing black stone door before them. "Vault 713," he announced, his tone as businesslike as ever.

The group stepped out, Harry's eyes fixed on the intimidating door. Unlike his vault, this one lacked any visible handle or keyhole, its surface smooth except for a small, intricate emblem engraved in the center.

"Stand back." the goblin said as they stepped forward, pressing a long, bony finger to the emblem. A faint glow pulsed from the stone, followed by a deep rumble as the massive door swung inward with a grinding noise. He stepped aside, gesturing to the now-open vault. "You may enter."

Inside, the vault was empty, save for a small, plain package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine, sitting atop a pedestal in the center.

Harry frowned, his curiosity piqued. "That's it? What's so important about that?"

"That's not for you to know, lad," Hagrid said firmly, stepping into the vault with care. He approached the pedestal, retrieving the package as though it were made of glass. "Professor Dumbledore said it was vital. That's all that matters."

Bowser, standing at the threshold, crossed his arms and snorted. "All this security for a little package? Must be some package."

Kamek adjusted his glasses, peering into the vault. "The magic in this place is impressive. Whatever that is, it's worth more than it looks."

The goblin gave no reaction to their comments, his expression neutral as he waited silently for them to finish. Hagrid stepped back out of the vault, cradling the package carefully.

"All done," Hagrid said, nodding to the goblin. "Thanks for yer help."

The goblin simply inclined his head. "This way," he said, already heading back to the cart.

The journey back to the surface was just as wild as the descent, the cart careening through the twisting tunnels at breakneck speed. Harry and Bowser enjoyed every moment, cheering with every sharp turn and sudden drop, while Kamek and Hagrid looked like they were seconds away from losing their lunch.

When the cart finally came to a halt at the main level of Gringotts, Kamek stumbled out, adjusting his robes with a sour expression. "This place is barbaric."

Hagrid chuckled weakly, wiping his brow. "Aye, but it gets the job done."

The goblin stepped out and gestured toward the exit without a word, his demeanor as cold and professional as ever. "Your business is concluded. Proceed to the exit."

Bowser grunted, patting Harry on the back as they made their way out. "They don't talk much, do they?"

"Not unless it's about gold," Hagrid replied with a chuckle. "Goblins care about efficiency, not pleasantries."

As they stepped back into the sunlight of Diagon Alley, Harry glanced up at Bowser. "Thanks for adding to my vault earlier, Dad. You didn't have to do that."

Bowser smirked, ruffling Harry's messy black hair. "Didn't have to, but I wanted to. You're my son. You deserve the best."

Kamek huffed, still pale from the ride. "Not sure the vault or the goblins appreciated the display, but at least it's secure."

Hagrid adjusted the package under his arm, glancing at Harry. "Yer a lucky lad, Harry. Not many've got family like yours lookin' out for 'em."

Harry smiled softly. "I know."

Bowser nudged him. "C'mon, kid. Let's go get the rest of your stuff. Time's a wastin'." Hagrid grinned, "Right then, let's start with the apothecary first. We can work our way back up the alley." As the group stepped out of Gringotts and back onto the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, Kamek seemed to be recovering from the ordeal of the cart ride. He adjusted his glasses and straightened his robes, muttering about "better modes of magical transportation" when something caught his eye.

"Oh, what's this?" Kamek suddenly exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks. He pointed excitedly at a shop to their right with a sign that read Quality Quidditch Supplies. The large window display featured rows of sleek, polished broomsticks in all shapes and styles, some with gleaming golden handles, others with bristles that seemed to shimmer like starlight.

"It's a broom shop!" Kamek cried, rushing toward the window. His usual dignified demeanor vanished as he pressed his hands and face against the glass. "Look at these beauties! Such craftsmanship! Such variety! Oh, I've been looking for a new broom for ages!"

Harry tilted his head, amused by Kamek's sudden enthusiasm. "You ride a broom all the time. Are these really that different?"

"Different?" Kamek sputtered, turning to Harry with wide eyes. "These aren't just brooms, boy. These are masterpieces! My broom at home is practical, sure, but these—these are a fusion of art and magic! Look at the handles, the bristles—everything about them screams excellence!"

Hagrid chuckled as he joined them at the window. "Aye, these brooms are fer flyin' Quidditch, not just travel. They're built fer speed and maneuverin', not fer gettin' from point A to point B."

"Speed and maneuvering!" Kamek said, practically trembling with excitement. "That's exactly what I need! My current broom is sturdy, but it's practically a relic. I must have one of these!"

Bowser, standing a few steps ahead, turned back and growled impatiently. "Are we here to shop for you, Kamek, or for Harry? Priorities."

Kamek reluctantly pulled himself away from the window, though his eyes lingered on the brooms as they continued walking. "Fine, fine," he muttered. "But we're coming back here before we leave. I refuse to leave this world without a proper upgrade."

Harry grinned as he watched the usually composed Magikoopa turn into an overexcited broom enthusiast. "I didn't think you'd be so into this stuff."

Kamek sniffed, adjusting his glasses. "I have standards, young man. And I recognize quality when I see it."

Bowser rolled his eyes, but a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, Kamek. We'll worry about your flying obsession after we get Harry everything he needs."

Harry chuckled as they moved on, feeling a little lighter. Seeing Kamek so animated about something as simple as a broom reminded him of home—where passion and excitement could be found in the smallest things. Maybe this new world might not be so bad after all.