Harry looked at his skinny arms, then at Uncle Howl's muscular body, and suddenly understood.
"Understood now, right? There are many paths a Wizard can take," Howl said.
Harry was no longer the naive boy who knew nothing about the Wizarding World. Looking at Uncle Howl, he immediately thought of someone and nodded:
"I understand! Just like Godric Gryffindor!"
Gryffindor, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. Besides being a great Wizard, he was also the most outstanding duelist of his time.
wand in his left hand and a sword in his right, that was the fighting style of his followers in that era.
Thinking about it, Harry suddenly became curious: "Uncle Howl, so are you a Gryffindor?"
"Gryffindor?" Howl was surprised for a moment, then shook his head: "I've never been to Hogwarts School; I haven't even seen it with my own eyes.
But as I imagine, my personality should be... Slytherin!"
Howl recalled the description of Slytherin he had read in books: ambitious, shrewd and self-serving, valuing victory above all else...
"Of course, this is my conjecture based on the descriptions in the books," Howl added.
As they spoke, the two had already returned to Number Thirteen, Privet Drive, and Lucifer opened the door at the opportune moment.
"Oh, by the way, Uncle Howl. Why were you at the park?" Harry suddenly remembered.
Howl pushed the door open and walked in first: "After I stopped my magic research, I always felt like I had nothing to do, so I just wandered around. Today I went to the supermarket and bought some ingredients."
At this moment, Harry also noticed the view outside the Moonlight Fortress window. It was already getting dark, and the Moonlight Fortress had stopped, with stars twinkling in the sky, illuminating a round lake.
Howl clapped his hands and said, "Tonight, we're having a barbecue by the lake!"
"Really?" Harry was very happy.
"Of course!" Howl snapped his fingers and pointed at Harry: "You do the grilling, and I'll do the eating."
...
After dinner and cleaning up, Harry returned to the study and began reading.
Although it was said to be one book a month, these twelve books were already almost as tall as him. All were ancient, weighty tomes.
Sometimes, when encountering some ancient, obscure words, he even had to consult a dictionary.
Oh, besides these twelve, there was also a book about clothing...
Anyway... it was a long and arduous journey.
At the same time, he also took out the parchment notebook he had bound himself and began to take notes.
"An excellent Wizard should possess a body of gold."
In a trance, Harry seemed to hear Uncle Howl's words again.
Aim for the best to get good, aim for good to get bad—
After thinking for a moment, Harry added another sentence at the end.
"Those who can't do it are trash!!"
Hmm, Harry nodded with satisfaction, it should be so!
Early the next morning, Harry arrived at Moonlight Fortress early. As expected, a vinyl record was playing on the gramophone, and Uncle Howl was lying on the sofa, holding a book.
"I told you, I'm not researching anymore, just reading for entertainment!"
These were Uncle Howl's exact words.
Only today...
Harry didn't know if he was mistaken, but when he walked in, Uncle Howl seemed to have startled awake.
As if he had been asleep.
Howl stood up, wiped his face, smoothed his hair, then put down the book and looked at Harry:
"Good morning. So, what time did you and Hermione arrange?"
"Ten o'clock." Harry was clearly a bit impatient.
Howl nodded: "I'll get ready and change. Lucifer, please heat some water for me."
Harry wasn't in a hurry either; he went to the kitchen and started preparing breakfast.
Through unremitting efforts, he had now earned the right to make breakfast.
Great!
Half an hour later, a refreshed Howl walked down the stairs, clattering in a pair of carved Oxford leather shoes: "By the way, Harry. Are you sure you want to go to Diagon Alley with that scar exposed?"
Harry, who had just placed breakfast on the table, froze for a moment, then touched his newly styled hair.
After thinking carefully, he shook his head: "I guess not.
I still remember the last time I went to Diagon Alley; because it was the start of the school year, I heard many people discussing when I would go to Hogwarts..."
Harry knew very well in his heart that he had no relation to Lord Voldemort, but whether it was people or some recently published books, they attributed the Merits of "killing Lord Voldemort and saving the Wizarding World" to him.
In some books, he was even called the savior.
He felt... it didn't make sense.
It shouldn't be like this.
If there truly was a savior, it should be his parents, not him as a baby.
In short, he didn't want this honor, nor did he want such fame.
Having been with Howl for so long, Harry had thought many things through clearly.
Fame, honor, strength!
He would gain them all by himself.
He didn't need illusory things like "savior" or "The Boy Who Lived."
"I'd better cover this scar," Harry said helplessly.
Howl was noncommittal; this scar had different reactions in different contexts, and he understood Harry's decision.
However...
"Forget it, don't use that bandana, it's too ugly," Howl said with a look of disdain.
As he spoke, he lightly flicked his finger, and a brown newsboy cap flew directly down from the second floor.
Howl placed the hat on Harry's head, then pulled it down further.
"Alright, that covers it," Howl said: "Or you can also turn the brim towards the scar side to cover it more completely.
But as it is now, most people won't see it."
Harry froze for a moment, then touched the hat on his head and looked at the oversized T-shirt he had inherited from Dudley.
"Uncle Howl, I want to buy clothes," Harry decided, taking out his small stash of money and saying.
He had wanted this for a long time; the money he saved was in hopes of having some more presentable clothes.
Just like Uncle Howl!
Howl's lips curled into a slight, somewhat helpless smile: "It seems I have no choice but to help you with the selection."
As Harry expected, besides his extraordinary dedication to magic, Uncle Howl had another obsession: his appearance.
"Eat, then we'll go to London," Howl urged...
...
"Honey, is this where you and Harry agreed to meet?" Chris Granger parked the car on Charing Cross Road and looked at his precious daughter in the back seat.
To be honest, it was his first time seeing Hermione make weekend plans with a friend...
Although it might not be appropriate to say so, Chris had to admit that his precious girl didn't have many friends at school.
After all, this girl could be surprisingly strict when it came to anything related to studies.
"Yes, Dad, it's here," Hermione said, nodding, then looked out the window, her eyes suddenly widening in surprise.
"Dad, is that Harry?" She pointed incredulously at the two figures standing by the roadside.
Harry was standing by the roadside, with an undeniable happiness on his face. He wore tapered dress pants, a simple white shirt with a vest that accentuated his waistline, and a slightly oversized but more casual jacket.
Chris, having been in the workforce for many years, also saw Harry.
For some reason, seeing this child dressed in a neat, new outfit that was uniquely his own, and the eager expression on his face, wanting to share, brought a smile to the face of this old man who was already a father.
"Yes, dear. That's Harry and Mr. Jones," Chris replied.
"I think Harry has been doing well lately."