Dumbledore quickly replied to Harry's message.
He shared Harry's suspicion that another of Voldemort's Horcruxes might be hidden at Hogwarts.
He had already instructed the house-elves to search, and they might have results by the time term began.
The failure to locate Sirius Black left Harry restless, and it showed in his practical training sessions. Flitwick returned home with trembling legs, barely able to walk.
Young people are so energetic, like wolves and tigers… I just can't keep up anymore, Flitwick thought.
Hurry up and let the term start!
On Harry's birthday, his mood finally lifted a bit.
Hedwig was busy all morning, flying in and out with packages.
Among them was Hermione's gift: a bottle of sea-salt-scented perfume she had carefully picked out in France.
The Weasley family also sent gifts.
Bill, whom Harry had never met, sent him an elegant Egyptian amulet. The amulet depicted a lion—Maahes, the lion god from Egyptian mythology. It carried real magical power, granting courage and detecting malice.
When someone with ill intentions gazed at its wearer, the amulet would emit a hum as a warning.
Harry loved it.
He strung it on a cord and wore it around his neck, feeling a bit like a monster hunter again.
Charlie, the dragon tamer working in Romania, sent Harry a finely crafted dragon figurine and a vial of dragon's blood.
Professor McGonagall mailed him three notebooks that had belonged to his father, along with one of her own about Animagus transformation—a complex branch of Transfiguration that Harry could start learning this year.
Dumbledore sent a notebook as well.
It covered Alchemy and Occlumency.
Even Snape didn't miss the occasion, sending a vial of Felix Felicis—the golden potion that promised good luck.
Hagrid's gift nearly destroyed the others: a heap of materials from the Forbidden Forest and a vicious book that snapped and bit at anything it could reach.
And, of course, the most important thing: the Hogwarts book list.
For elective courses, Harry didn't go overboard like Hermione and select everything. He chose just three: Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination.
He found it strange that Hogwarts offered a course on Muggle Studies.
What was even stranger was how popular the course was, despite the fact that wizards' understanding of Muggles was laughably inaccurate—more akin to calling a potato a tomato. The only correct conclusion they seemed to have reached was that Muggles couldn't use magic and had the same physical anatomy as wizards.
Harry was particularly interested in the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.
It was normal—thankfully not written by someone like Lockhart.
Harry had low expectations for this class. Even a professor like Quirrell, who could at least stick to the curriculum, would suffice.
A week before term started, Harry met up with his friends in Diagon Alley.
In front of the ice cream shop, Hermione waved enthusiastically at him. "Harry! Over here!"
In her arms was a squishy, ginger-colored creature.
As soon as Harry approached, the creature wriggled free from Hermione's grip, leapt onto the table, flattened its ears, fluffed its fur, bared its teeth, and let out a low hiss.
"No, Crookshanks, he's a friend!" Hermione scolded, pressing her hand on the cat's head. "You can't act like this."
Crookshanks relaxed slightly but remained wary.
"He's usually very well-behaved. I don't know why…" Hermione stammered. "Maybe it's because you're so strong, Harry, and he feels intimidated?"
Harry sat down, reached out, and swiftly grabbed the ginger cat by the waist. He pulled it into his lap and began inspecting its ears. "I've never been particularly liked by cats."
To be precise, no monster hunter ever was.
Crookshanks rolled onto its back, lying in Harry's lap with a confused expression.
"A Kneazle hybrid?" Harry said in surprise, lifting the cat's tail. "This is a fantastic pet."
"A Kneazle?" Hermione looked puzzled.
"The shopkeeper didn't tell you?" Harry asked, pressing on Crookshanks's paw to extend its claws, which were sharp and healthy.
Crookshanks finally realized it was being handled by this dangerous man. It let out a furious hiss and twisted its body, aiming to scratch Harry's face.
But as it moved, Harry gently pushed, causing it to spin 360 degrees and land back on its back in his lap.
"Stay still and let me check," Harry said, pressing his hand on its head.
Crookshanks hesitated, sniffing the air. It detected the presence of numerous magical creatures it dared not provoke on Harry—there was the scent of a dangerous serpent under his robe, his sword carried a threatening aura, and his pockets held traces of unicorns, Acromantulas, and centaurs.
It obediently lay still, no longer struggling.
"The shopkeeper just said he was a poor thing, left behind because of his strange appearance," Hermione said quietly. "I felt sorry for him and decided to buy him."
"Then you got a bargain," Harry said, continuing his examination. "Even as a hybrid, he likely inherited some Kneazle traits—high intelligence and the ability to sense danger."
Hermione rummaged through her bag, pulled out a book, and began flipping through it. When she found the entry on Kneazles, she read with increasing interest, growing fonder of Crookshanks by the second.
Ron soon joined them.
Over the summer, he'd grown a bit taller, gotten tanned in Egypt, and donned a new set of robes. He looked more mature and composed.
"Harry!" Ron greeted enthusiastically. "How was your summer?"
"I heard you went to Malfoy Manor to collect a debt?"
Harry nodded. "Not bad. Consider it a bit of payback on your behalf."
"George and Fred found some fun stuff in Egypt. Maybe next term, we'll use it on little Malfoy," Ron said with a grin. It seemed he had moved past the incident with Malfoy and regained his cheerful demeanor. "Did you buy your books yet?"
Harry nodded.
Hermione patted her bulging bag, which contained three large sacks of books.
Ron stared, stunned. "Hermione, why do you have so many more books than I do? Isn't the library enough for you?"
"They're for my electives," Hermione said seriously. "I signed up for every elective, so of course, I have more books than you."
"Are you planning to skip eating and sleeping?" Ron teased. "Can you even manage all those classes?"
"Professor McGonagall said there'd be a way," Hermione said earnestly. "Harry's already so far ahead—he's first, and I'm second."
"But by fourth or fifth year, Harry will still be first, and I'll fall far behind."
Ron sighed. "You can't compare yourself to Harry. I told Bill about him, and he was shocked—and he got twelve O.W.L.s!"
"The goblins at Gringotts are practically begging Harry to graduate early and become a Curse Breaker."
Harry handed Crookshanks back to Hermione. "They're not interested in me. They're interested in the Gryffindor sword."
The ginger cat darted past Ron's face.
He jumped back, his expression turning to horror. "What is that? And why is it here?"
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Powerstones?
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