The Blond Young Wizard Who Wet Himself

Seeing Harry change the subject, Hagrid finally calmed down. No longer afraid, he wore a nostalgic expression:

"They were both kind and gentle people. Your father was an outstanding Chaser, and also Gryffindor's Quidditch captain—a Gryffindor star!

And your mother was even more remarkable. She was Hogwarts School's Head Girl and possessed extraordinarily profound expertise in potions. She was a Potions Master..."

Hagrid spoke at length beside him, while Harry grew quieter as he listened.

The more he learned of his parents' excellence and gentleness, the deeper his hatred for The Mysterious Person became.

He should have had a wonderful childhood.

Soon, the cart arrived at Vault 713. Unlike Vault 687, Griphook merely knocked on Vault 713's bronze door before opening it.

However, Harry did not think this vault's defenses were weaker. On the contrary, they were stronger.

He sensed a concealed trace of magic within the iron door and heard the crisp sound of mechanical parts colliding when it opened.

There was no doubt that these were Vault 713's defensive measures, and Vault 687 had none of them.

When the door opened, a dirty little package wrapped in brown paper appeared before Harry.

Hagrid seemed to place great importance on the package and immediately tucked it away close to his body.

Harry fell into thought. He sensed a powerful magical fluctuation within the package. If nothing unexpected had happened, it was a powerful Alchemical Creation.

But that was all. Forget Kamar-Taj—even any magical item stored in the New York Sanctum Sanctorum was more powerful than this Alchemical Creation!

Harry was growing less and less confident in the Wizarding World. Treating an Alchemical Creation like a treasure—the Wizarding World's horizons were far too narrow!

Harry shook his head and immediately dismissed the thought.

No, he could not underestimate the Wizarding World. Perhaps the powerful Alchemical Creations in the Wizarding World all gave off very faint magical fluctuations?

After all, magical power was one of the important standards for judging whether magic was powerful, but it was not the only one.

The quality of the magic was another crucial measure, and the magical power in this world seemed to be of very high quality.

After leaving Vault 713, they rode the cart upward. A short while later, they finally returned to the surface and saw sunlight again.

After leaving Gringotts, Hagrid led Harry shopping. He was very familiar with Diagon Alley, and before long, he brought Harry to a shop called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Hagrid rubbed his messy head and looked down at Harry.

"Go on, Harry. Go buy your uniform. I'm going to get a pick-me-up. Those Gringotts carts are dreadful.

Want one?"

Harry's mental age was already that of an adult, so he would not get nervous just because Hagrid was leaving. He nodded at Hagrid.

"Of course. If possible, I'm interested in Wizarding World drinks."

Walking into the shop alone, Harry met its owner.

Madam Malkin was a short, plump Witch dressed in purple. With her kindly smile, she seemed like a very gentle person, much like Aunt May. This made Harry feel very fond of Madam Malkin.

Before Harry could speak, Madam Malkin warmly said:

"Oh, dear, I suppose you're here to buy a Hogwarts School uniform.

We have uniforms here—there's sure to be something you like. There's another young man inside choosing his uniform. I think you could have a chat with him. Perhaps you might become friends."

Harry nodded politely and walked into the back of the shop.

Madam Malkin seemed to like Harry very much. She dismissed the clerk, personally helped Harry put on a brand-new robe, and measured his height with a tape measure.

Harry liked Madam Malkin as well and chatted with her enthusiastically. Harry was welcome wherever he went, and with his bright, cheerful personality, he soon got along splendidly with Madam Malkin.

Madam Malkin liked Harry so much that she even planned to give him an outfit for free. Harry did not refuse. Though he did not need it, he understood that one should not reject another person's kindness.

At that moment, the young wizard having his height measured on another stool suddenly spoke to Harry.

"Hey, are you going to Hogwarts too?"

The young wizard was pale and blond. He looked arrogant, as though he considered himself extraordinary, and his tone toward Harry was extremely rude, as if he were deliberately picking a fight.

Harry did not mind the young wizard's rude behavior. After all, he was an adult and could not stoop to the level of a child.

So he gave the blond young wizard a gentle nod.

"Yes, I'm a new student this year."

"That's great. I'm a new student too. By the way, do you have your own Flying Broomstick? I don't know why first-years can't have their own Flying Broomsticks. Maybe I can sneak one in."

The blond young wizard looked smug and chattered on endlessly, making Harry's brow furrow slightly. Still, he patiently responded from time to time.

"I don't have my own Flying Broomstick."

"Have you ever played Quidditch?"

"No." Harry did not know what Quidditch was, nor did he care. He was currently thinking about The Mysterious Person.

What method should I use to kill The Mysterious Person?

The Sword of Vishanti?

Crush him with telekinesis?

Erase his soul, or sacrifice him to some Dimensional Demon?

Or throwing him into a portal and letting him fall endlessly until he starves to death would be a good choice too!

Perhaps Harry had become too absorbed in his thoughts and forgotten about the blond young wizard beside him, leaving his questions unanswered for a long time.

The blond young wizard grew somewhat angry. After having his height measured, he could no longer tolerate Harry's indifference and shoved him hard.

"Damn Mudblood, I'm talking to you! Don't ignore me!"

Harry suddenly sensed hostility right beside him. His body, tempered through countless battles, immediately counterattacked on its own. The stable magical power within him instantly formed a complex Rune Matrix.

Harry vanished from where he stood and appeared behind the blond young wizard. The dazzling Sword of Vishanti was already held against the blond young wizard's neck.

At that moment, a strand of the blond young wizard's hair happened to fall. The instant it landed on the blade, it was sliced neatly in two by its sharp edge.

Before anyone realized it, a scarlet streak of blood ran down the blond young wizard's cheek.

Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions fell completely silent!

Harry was the first to react. A dazzling spell circle appeared in his palm, wiping away the blood from the blond young wizard's face.

When Harry withdrew his hand, the previously ghastly, split-open wound had vanished without a trace.

He wore an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you just now. I was thinking about something. I'm truly sorry for hurting you. You can tell me what compensation you want.

By the way, what does Mudblood mean? I used to live in the Muggle World, so I don't understand many Wizarding World terms."

The blond young wizard's body trembled as he stiffly turned around. Upon hearing Harry's question, he even felt a wave of warmth between his legs.

He summoned unprecedented wisdom and replied in a trembling voice:

"It... it means good friends. We grow magical plants in the mud together, so we're very good friends.

That's right, that's what it means!"