Harry Potter's summer had been utterly miserable.
First came the strange house-elf who sabotaged Uncle Vernon's important dinner, followed by weeks of near-solitary confinement—locked away for almost the entire holiday. It wasn't until the Weasleys arrived in a flying car that he was finally rescued from his personal hell.
Staying at the Burrow opened his eyes to all sorts of wonders. The Weasley home was chaotic, magical, and somehow even had a tank. Harry wasn't sure why a wizarding family owned one, but no one seemed inclined to explain.
What moved him most, though, was the warmth—the feeling of family that soaked into everything.
On the day they went shopping in Diagon Alley, events unfolded much like they always seemed to. Harry accidentally wandered into Knockturn Alley, ran into Malfoy, and was rescued by Hagrid.
Now, with money withdrawn from his vault, he stepped out to meet the Weasleys and the Grangers.
Thank Merlin, Gringotts was gone—and his gold was untouched.
Thank Heaven and Earth Bank.
"Harry!" Ron's face was still red with excitement. Even though his mum had refused to let him splurge, Ron couldn't stop glowing with pride. "You have no idea—our bank account has so many zeros!"
Children loved showing off to their friends, and Ron, who had grown up poor, couldn't wait to share the joy.
"That's brilliant," Harry said sincerely.
"Arthur Weasley?"
A wizard and a witch approached, cameras at the ready. "We're reporters from the Daily Prophet, here to cover the opening of Heaven and Earth Bank. We've heard the Weasley family—one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight—played a major role. Would you mind a family photo? With the bank in the background—we might even run it on the front page."
"The front page?" Molly gasped. "Children, everyone together—quick!"
"Harry, you too!"
"And Hermione, dear—of course you as well!"
After the photo, Molly announced loudly, "We'll meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your textbooks!"
The children scattered at once. Ron clutched a five-Galleon Merlin note, vibrating with excitement. He had never held so much money in his life.
Strawberry-peanut-butter ice cream. Snacks of every kind. Trinkets and toys.
At twelve years old, Ron Weasley was finally experiencing the joy of shopping.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione wandered Diagon Alley together, ice creams in hand. They spotted the twins and Lee Jordan loading up on fireworks, and Percy buried in a secondhand shop, earnestly reading How to Gain Authority as a Prefect.
An hour was a long time when Diagon Alley was this small. They finished exploring early and ended up sitting by the roadside, licking melted ice cream and watching the crowds drift past, lost in thought.
They didn't even notice Hydrus Lestrange walking right by.
She was wearing a completely ordinary face.
Incognito.
It was a spur-of-the-moment decision—she wanted to personally check the service quality of Heaven and Earth Bank. Unfortunately, it turned out to be another impulsive mistake. The queue stretched endlessly.
At least two hours, if she stayed.
Sighing, she abandoned the idea and decided to enjoy the show instead.
She had already seen the protagonists earlier, which meant there was a chance of witnessing the classic scene—Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley losing all dignity and coming to blows outside Flourish and Blotts.
Even if fate had been softened by her interference, destiny had a habit of correcting itself.
And if nothing else—
Watching Harry embarrass himself was always entertaining.
Returning from the bank, Hydrus arrived just in time.
Gilderoy Lockhart was in top form.
"Such a beautiful smile, Harry," Lockhart beamed, one arm wrapped tightly around him, teeth gleaming. "This is front-page material! A historic moment!"
Harry's fingers were going numb.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Lockhart proclaimed. "I've chosen this marvelous occasion to announce something truly special…"
"…This September, I will be taking up the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts!"
Hydrus watched with open delight.
Harry's expression was priceless—awkward, mortified, stiff with forced politeness, fury trapped behind courtesy. He even had to smile for the cameras.
The result looked like something pickled for thirty years.
Unfortunately, some people completely misread the situation.
"Well, well," Draco sneered, copying his father's drawl. "The famous Harry Potter. Even buying books gets you on the front page."
An argument erupted between the children.
Children arguing inevitably drew in adults.
This time, though, both Arthur and Lucius restrained themselves. After all, they were technically allies of Hydrus now.
"Mr. Weasley," Lucius said coldly, "even if you don't care about pure-blood dignity, you could at least teach your children some manners."
"I believe," Arthur replied calmly, "that your son's behavior hardly qualifies as polite."
"Hmph." Lucius stepped forward and pulled a pristine copy of Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration from Ginny's cauldron. "I see. Wealth really does change things. You can afford new books now."
He glanced pointedly at the Grangers. "Still, associating with people like this—how very disappointing."
He slammed the book back into Ginny's cauldron, forcing her to stumble back.
"Lucius Malfoy!" Arthur roared, surging forward—
Only for Molly to grab him. "There's no need to lower ourselves to his level."
Lucius sniffed, twirling his cane. "Draco. We're leaving."
He departed with his head held high, only exhaling once they were well away from the crowd.
From within the onlookers, Hydrus felt a twinge of disappointment. No fight.
But she had seen it clearly.
Lucius had slipped Tom Riddle's diary into Ginny's things.
Others might have missed it—but not her.
Even without a scuffle to divert attention, he had taken the risk.
Interesting.
Still, the thought vanished as quickly as it came.
The Chamber of Secrets?
Not her problem.
This school year would pass without disaster, and she had no interest whatsoever in interacting with her sixteen-year-old "father."
What mattered now—
Was heading to the Ministry of Magic and rescinding the absurd decree that had forced her to repeat a year.