Chapter 26, everybody! In which Harry gets summer jobs and contemplates moving….

The Kanes are in reference to The Kane Chronicles, while the O'Connells are in reference to The Mummy movies—you know, the good ones with Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz. And there really is such a thing as a spider plant, although they don't usually have eyes and wander around the house.

Also referenced a couple of other Harry Potter fics, like Harry is a Dragon, And That's Okay by Saphroneth and Realizations by Wishweaver. The second one hasn't been updated in ten years, but definitely worth a read-through. :D

TroyWeb, thanks for the review! Yes, Snips is quite talented at roasting people….

Harry Potter © JK Rowling

Harry's hope that he'd be able to slip into Gringotts and out without being made died the moment he stepped off the Knight Bus. Well, stepped was too bland a descriptor, it was more like diving for the sidewalk like his life depended on it. Herewith, he resolved that if he was ever stranded, the use of the Knight Bus was only in the case of a truly dire emergency, and even then that was pushing it.

It was after he recovered enough to push himself up a little that he realized that Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was standing over him, and had rapidly outed him to everyone within earshot. Stan, who had been depositing Harry's things on the curb, bolted back into the bus to excitedly tell Ern just who exactly had been on their bus. Harry was reasonably sure he was doomed.

Fortunately, Fudge assured him that Harry was not about to be expelled for the use of accidental magic, was more interested in scolding Harry for running off like that ("Anything could have happened, you know"). Even better, Fudge told him that it'd be best if Harry stayed here for the remainder of the summer, they already had a room set up for him, please don't leave Diagon Alley before the first of September. Harry was torn between looking reticent and jumping around with glee, decided the former would do until he was safely ensconced in the room overlooking Diagon Alley—which, by the way, had Hedwig sitting there waiting for him.

"Smart owl, that one," Tom told him, pointing at the snowy owl. "Arrived here just moments before you did. Picked a banger of a room she did too, nice view."

"Thank you," Harry said. "If you need to move us to another room—I mean it's such a nice room, someone else might—"

"No need, no need, the Minister's already paid you up for the remainder of the summer," Tom said, waving him off. "You just get settled, I'll have some food run up to you in a bit. Enjoy your stay, Mr. Potter!"

Harry assured him that he would, and the first thing he did upon Tom leaving was jump all over, cheering wildly. This was better than okay—this was brilliant! No more Dursleys for the rest of the summer and he got to explore Diagon Alley to his heart's content? This was the best birthday present ever!

Speaking of—it just occurred to him that Hedwig was, in fact, sitting on a stack of packages.

"You didn't carry all of those, did you?" Harry asked, staring at the stack. "First thing tomorrow we're getting you a bag of the best owl treats."

Hedwig fluffed up in joy at that, flew over to the back of a chair to let Harry pick up the first package—it was from Neville.

The card included said that Neville had been thinking about what would be an appropriate present since he didn't want to just repeat last year (although Harry had been very grateful for the sweets), thought that Harry might like a useful plant after talking for a while with his Gran, that it was a spider plant and was great to deal with small pests please don't be surprised if it crawled out of the box when he opened it Neville had fed it before sending it but you never knew. Harry, at least, was grateful enough that Neville had thought to warn Harry about it, and it gave him the opportunity to bolt after opening the lid.

Something green with a lot of long thin leaves crawled out, paused a moment on the desk before scurrying off and heading under the bed. Harry waited a few moments before examining the box, pulling out a pot and a fairly thorough list of how to care for the plant (such as if you ever need to replace the pot make sure it's a sturdy one that isn't topheavy to make it easier to crawl in and out and don't water it too much maybe once a week otherwise it'll track mud and not want to go back in the pot).

"I think Neville might replace Professor Sprout when she retires," Harry told Snips and Hedwig, putting the box and list aside. Snips gave a sort of sideways nod as Harry picked up the next package.

This one was from Ron, and the letter made him glad he hadn't tried heading for the Weasleys': they were currently in Egypt visiting Ron's brother Bill, having won a raffle prize that would pay for it (which was awesome, in Harry's opinion, he knew they didn't have a lot of money). Ron spent several pages talking about all the weird things ancient Egyptian wizards did, about Bill's coworkers and their families (the Kanes and the O'Connells sounded like they came out of the adventure movies Dudley watched on occasion), and what Harry's present was.

It's called a sneakoscope—it's supposed to detect unsavory characters, according to Bill, but he said I might have gotten a cheap tourist one because it kept buzzing all through dinner. I'm thinking it was just detecting Fred and George slipping beetles into Bill and Percy's soup when they weren't looking.

That sounded like Fred and George, to be fair. And the sneakoscope was nice and quiet when he put it on the table, balancing on its point and spinning like a top.

Hermione's gift was the first book in a book series she demanded he read (I've just started it and I need SOMEONE to talk to about it before I explode). Dean gave him a book too, this one about football (or soccer, according to the Americans), with the note that I'm thinking about starting a club where we keep up on the sport also you need to read this I want to annoy Ron. So that was two books to read….

A third one, considering he was unwrapping another—a familiar one, one wrapped in a different dust jacket and with a note with a galleon taped to it.

I owe you, but don't collect during the school year.

PS: buy a less revolting sweater.

There was no name, but there didn't need to be, and Harry was operating under the impression that this coming year was looking up.

This was confirmed when Snips barked and pointed at his trunk, darted in when he opened it—

Pushed out the Hogsmeade permission slip with a scratchy signature at the bottom.

Well, he supposed it counted. "Thanks, Snips."

Snips nodded, flew back to the stack of gifts. Ah, right.

Definitely his best birthday ever.

The only questionable gift he got was another book from Hagrid, and only because it tried to eat him—and the spider plant, which scurried back to its pot to avoid said book. That one, The Monster Book of Monsters, was currently in his trunk and belted shut—maybe he could feed it one of Dudley's old socks to avoid further injury.

Other than that, the rest of his evening went well, with a delicious soup and bread for dinner which he regrettably couldn't eat all of and shared with Snips and Hedwig (he decided that the spider plant wasn't interested and the monster book probably didn't eat soup), and him retiring to his bed, starting on the book Hermione gave him before falling asleep in the comfortable four-poster.

The next couple of days were drizzly and saw Harry indoors, reading and doing homework—mostly in his room before Tom invited him downstairs to do his homework, Diggle's in eating lunch and he knows a bit about Defense if you need help with that.

Diggle was very good at Defense, once he got over being starstruck at Harry Potter and finally saw a young boy who needed help with his homework. Although he was very dismissive of what he had been assigned.

"I don't think they'll be wanting this when you get back this year," Diggle said, flipping through Harry's homework and noting that it was asking for essays about Lockhart's greatest achievements. "Some people have come forward and accused Lockhart of falsifying and stealing all his work—there's a big scandal about it all."

Harry was not going to complain about not having to do another Lockhart assignment, nodded and copied down notes about what Diggle said about Defense and the basic spells every wizard should know (and how one countered them, since every wizard knew them) over lunch, tea, and eventually dinner, waving Harry off when he apologized for taking up so much of his time.

"It's no trouble, Mr. Potter, not at all," Diggle assured him, and then went on to tell him the books he should look into at Flourish and Blott's.

Which led to the more excellent part of the summer: Harry having free reign to explore Diagon Alley to his heart's content.

He spent the first several days after the weather cleared just exploring the alley, going up and down it and window-shopping and taking note of which stores he definitely wanted to spend more time in, ducking in and taking note how much money he would need if he decided to shop within.

Also important: finding out just how far he needed to budget his money.

Griphook seemed both bemused and approving of Harry's request.

"Usually wizards care very little about keeping track of their funds," he explained, pulling out the pertinent ledgers. "They just expect more to magically appear and accuse us of rebellion when it doesn't happen."

"I learned about budgeting in Muggle primary school," Harry said. "Maybe that's why?"

"I swear, they'll take over the world someday," Griphook sighed, opening the first ledger.

Harry really didn't know how to respond to that, instead focused on what Griphook was telling him, about how his parents had left him a substantial fortune, that he did have a stipend budget to take care of his schooling with the rest available to him when he became of age, that yes as a thirteen-year-old he shouldn't be too concerned with everything just yet, but if he budgeted this much per year he'd never have to work a day in his life.

"I'm not sure if I could handle that," Harry admitted.

Griphook looked at him over his glasses. "Are you sure you're a wizard?"

"Sometimes I wonder."

Griphook did recommend investing some of his money into businesses so it would work for him and earn him more money, preferably ventures that interested him so he'd know what he was looking at. Harry was quick to suggest Flourish and Blott's, Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Enchanting Everyday Wear, where he had gotten all his sweaters last year.

"Those are all established businesses, so while they won't make you as much they're safe investments," Griphook said. "It's a start."

After that they hammered out what Harry's monthly budget would be, accounting for the fact that for the next several years he wouldn't be anywhere where he'd spend money but for maybe half the year, Harry inquiring about maybe renting a flat in Diagon Alley as soon as he was able and then budgeting for the change in spending that would bring.

It was long enough that tea was brought, and after business was concluded Harry asked if it was okay if he asked about the goblin rebellions, saying he wanted to hear both sides.

The lengthy discussion that had several older goblins who lived through the last rebellion lasted until dinner, which was had at a restaurant that was good but affordable and recommended to him by one of the goblins. And then a second dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, which left Harry feeling very much like the hobbits in the book Hermione had sent him.

In all, a productive day.

The rest of the summer was a blur of exploring the alley and doing homework with help from various sources. Florence Fortescue—who ran an ice cream parlor—let him do his homework on the patio and gave him a free sundae every day, talking with him about the other side of the goblin rebellions and helping him with his History of Magic homework. Harry wasn't sure if Binns would notice, but Harry was pleased with the end result.

He also bough several new outfits and socks and a set of trainers that fit from Enchanting Everyday Wear, along with a goodly stack of tee-shirts that changed colors in the sun (inspired by Muggle wear that did the exact same thing somehow). The various bookstores also took a hit, especially after Harry finished up his homework and got plenty of free time to himself.

He also ended up getting a bustling side business of running errands for everyone, starting with asking Tom if he couldn't help around the inn, I did a lot of chores with my relatives and I'd like to help if you don't mind. Tom, humoring him, promised him a knut if he cleaned the bar—had come back in surprise to see it spotless.

Word spread after that, about how Harry was quick and diligent, and after about a week he needed a little black book to keep all his various little chores straight (Flourish and Blott's was happy to provide).

Harry kept trying to make peace with his monster book, having a long heart-to-heart with it and trying to feed it a stack of paper he had bought—it had eagerly eaten the paper and then Dudley's old trainers and socks, but it left Harry's new shoes alone so he thought there was progress. Although he did ponder the irony of a book finding his less-than-literate cousin tasty.

The main point of news up and down the alley though—aside from Harry Potter staying for the summer and being the best errand boy ever no Davin he worked for me first I get to hire him when he needs a full-time job—was the escape of one Sirius Black from the wizarding prison Azkaban.

The extent of Harry's knowledge of Azkaban was Malfoy mentioning it once last year, but he soon learned more about it than he cared to—reading up on whatever Dementors were had him sleeping with the lights on and the monster book unbelted for several nights in a row.

Waking up with the monster book on the bed and dozing next to his feet felt like cause for concern.

Sirius Black was a different source of concern—from what he had heard, the man had succeeded in killing thirteen people with one curse, which Harry guessed was impressive by the way everyone was talking (but not surprising, considering what he had seen at Hogwarts and the way Seamus Finnegan had blown up that feather first year). From the sounds of it he was a horrible man who had somehow achieved the impossible.

"Probably heading this way—won't dare let the kids out until he's captured," Harry overheard one day, which did make him wonder. Even if Sirius Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who, which seemed to be the popular theory, Voldemort was supposed to be in a forest in Albania—it'd make more sense for Black to head there, but he was also the first to admit he knew very little about how the criminal mind worked, despite accusations from the Dursleys.

But Harry had also had plenty of time to not only ask at the various magical creature shops about Snips (no one had any clue, but they said they'd certainly start looking—mostly because they were certain a potion-making creature would sell like hotcakes), but to also get his schoolbooks early and start reading through them. The worker at Flourish and Blott's cried tears of joy when Harry told him he already had a copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, more so when Harry volunteered to handle the books for him.

His own copy had long ago ate the last of Dudley's socks and was now working on his shirts (which seemed to take longer, so they'd last a bit), but the ones in the bookstore seemed happy with a thick ream of paper that they quickly shredded. Once that was done, they seemed much more open to listening to suggestions that they behave themselves. The store worker was dumbfounded at such a simple solution, and when Harry walked by the bookstore next it was with a little sign next to the caged books that recommended buying stacks of paper to feed the books with.

In all, it was a very good summer.