Harry had already given much thought to the gifts he would prepare for his professors.
It wasn’t just about the professors; even his classmates—and surprisingly, his cousin Dudley—deserved sothing this year.
But Professor Snape presented a unique challenge. Harry knew Snape was a Potions Master, and giving him a potion would be pointless; Snape could undoubtedly brew far superior ones himself.
What could he do?
Lying on his bed, Harry wrestled with the question for a long ti before finally coming up with an unconventional idea.
That’s it!
Since Snape had a good relationship with his parents, why not gift him a photo of them for Christmas?
Once the idea took root, Harry was certain it was the perfect choice.
The photo of his parents was a gift from Hagrid, who, perhaps worried Harry might lose it, had thoughtfully made several duplicates.
This would make the perfect gift.
---
The next day, Harry prepared a detailed shopping list before heading out.
In addition to gifts for professors and friends, he needed ingredients for potions like Aging Potion, along with clothing suited for an older appearance.
The Aging Potion was a concoction that temporarily made the drinker appear older, depending on the dosage consud—a crucial elent in Harry’s upcoming plans.
Appearing older would grant him greater freedom and allow him to explore Knockturn Alley without drawing suspicion.
After all, Knockturn Alley was like an underground black market. An eleven-year-old wandering there without supervision would raise more than a few eyebrows.
Moreover, Knockturn Alley was ho to rare items unavailable elsewhere, such as seeds for biting cabbages.
Though Harry wasn’t one to shy away from danger, his friends’ influence had taught him the value of caution. Stocking up on biting cabbages seed like a prudent way to compensate for his current lack of combat experience.
After arriving at the Leaky Cauldron, Mr. Granger arranged to et them in the afternoon before hurrying off to the bank.
Harry and Ron strolled through Diagon Alley, checking off items on their shopping list.
To Harry’s surprise, Zonko’s Joke Shop was selling Aging Potion, albeit at a price several tis higher than the cost of the raw ingredients.
Gritting his teeth, Harry bought the potion along with a pile of joke items, deliberately hiding the potion among the other goods to avoid attracting attention.
Afterward, Harry led Ron to Ollivander’s wand shop.
The shop was eerily quiet, now in its off-season. Harry called out a few tis before Mr. Ollivander appeared from the back room.
“It’s rare to see young wizards here at this ti of year,” Mr. Ollivander remarked, stepping forward. His expression brightened when he saw Harry. “Ah, Mr. Potter. We et again.”
“Hello, Mr. Ollivander,” Harry said, pulling Ron forward. “This is my friend Ron. I’d like to buy him a wand as a Christmas gift.”
Mr. Ollivander turned his gaze to Ron, who shifted uneasily and lowered his head.
“The youngest Weasley boy, I presu?” Mr. Ollivander said with a knowing smile. He gestured for Ron’s wand. “May I see the wand you’re currently using?”
Ron hesitated before handing over his older brother Charlie’s wand.
Examining it closely, Mr. Ollivander nodded. “Ah, yes—pear wood, unicorn hair, twelve inches. Let guess, Mr. Weasley: you’ve been encountering significant resistance while casting spells, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Ron admitted nervously.
“That’s to be expected. Unicorn hair cores produce the most stable magic, rarely experiencing surges or blockages,” Mr. Ollivander explained. “However, they are also the most loyal of wand cores and remain deeply bonded to their original owners.”
“If you weren’t the brother of this wand’s first owner, the resistance would be even more pronounced,” he continued, before smiling at Harry. “Mr. Potter, your thoughtfulness is impeccable. A proper wand will significantly improve Mr. Weasley’s progress with spells.”
Hearing this, Ron finally understood the true depth of Harry’s gesture.
“Thank you, Harry,” Ron said sincerely.
“We’re best friends, aren’t we?” Harry replied with a grin.
Mr. Ollivander asured Ron and selected several wands for him to try.
After a few unsuccessful attempts, Ron finally held a wand that emitted a brilliant glow.
“Yes, that’s the one!” Mr. Ollivander exclaid. “Willow wood, unicorn hair, fourteen inches. Give it a try.”
Ron cast, “Expelliarmus!”
A red beam struck a stone in the shop with a resounding thud.
“Brilliant...” Ron murmured, staring at his new wand in awe.
Harry was delighted for his friend. After paying seven Galleons, they left the shop together.
“Let’s grab lunch,” Harry suggested, discreetly tucking the bottle of Aging Potion into his pocket.
They headed to a French restaurant—a favorite among wizards seeking fine dining—and chose a quiet corner.
Midway through the al, Harry excused himself.
In the restroom, he drank the Aging Potion and transford into a nineteen-year-old.
After changing into the clothes he had prepared, Harry left the restaurant unnoticed and made his way to Knockturn Alley.
The grimy, decrepit streets were filled with broken cobblestones, filthy walls, and gaunt, sinister wizards lurking in the shadows.
Harry quickly caught their attention but strode forward with purpose.
Turning into a narrow alley, he was soon confronted by a toothy wizard with a nacing grin.
“Boy, you don’t belong here,” the man sneered. “Hand over your money, and I might let you walk out of here unhard.”
Harry smiled coldly.
Since you’ve co to , don’t bla for what happens next, he thought.
Locking eyes with the man, Harry whispered, “Imperio.”
---
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