"I heard you talking with Professor Quirrell just now-you said..."
"While I am a wandmaker, I am also one of Hogwarts' newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts professors," Morin said. He drew his wand and tapped the wall in front of them. "I won't be teaching your year. I'll be responsible for second, third, fourth, and sixth years. If nothing unexpected happens, it will be my turn to teach you next year."
Harry watched intently, eyes following every movement. He noticed Morin tapping three bricks above the trash bin, then two more to the side.
"All right. Step back a little."
Harry did as told.
The bricks trembled, then shifted inward in a way that made no sense, revealing another world beyond the wall.
"Wow," Harry breathed.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Morin said, leading him through as the wall sealed itself behind them.
"With such a huge area, wouldn't ordinary people notice?" Harry asked. "Even if they can't see it, maps and things-"
"This place was originally scheduled for demolition," Morin explained as they walked toward Gringotts. "Wizards interfered and modified the memories of the relevant government departments. Too many people were involved, so in the end, the Ministry of Magic had no choice but to let it go."
He continued calmly.
"On top of that, the entire area is covered by large-scale enchantments. Even if officials notice a blank space on their maps, they can never find it on-site. Afterward, the magic makes them forget it completely. That's how it survived."
Harry felt like he didn't have enough eyes.
Walking beside Morin, he watched the crowds, listened to their chatter, and examined every shop-cauldrons, owls, broomsticks. Several boys were pressed against a window, talking excitedly about the newly released Nimbus 2000 and its top speed.
"Brooms are magical tools used for flight," Morin said. "They were once common transportation. Now they're mainly for Quidditch. You'll learn about that in school."
They arrived at Gringotts.
"There's a lot you need to buy," Morin said as they entered, "but first, we need money. Headmaster Dumbledore gave me your vault key yesterday morning. Until you come of age, I'll keep it for you. Is that acceptable?"
"Of course," Harry nodded. "I don't really have anywhere to spend money anyway. And-what's Quidditch?"
"A sport similar to soccer, but with multiple balls and different rules," Morin said. "The biggest difference is that players fly on broomsticks. It's extremely popular. You can try it later-it should suit you."
He paused.
"As for money... for you, earning it is very easy. You're still young, so I won't explain now. You'll understand in time."
Inside Gringotts, Harry was overwhelmed.
Bronze doors. Then silver doors engraved with warnings. Goblins-shorter than him, yet unsettling. Beyond the silver doors, goblins lined both sides of the hall, weighing and appraising valuables.
"Mr. Morin!"
Morin turned toward a familiar face.
"Good morning, Duke," Morin said, producing a key and a letter. "I need to withdraw items from Mr. Harry Potter's vault. And retrieve something entrusted to me by Headmaster Dumbledore-from Vault 713."
Harry didn't know it.
Morin did.
The Philosopher's Stone. Created by Nicolas Flamel. The only one of its kind.
"Mr. Harry Potter!" Duke's eyes lit up. "Two distinguished guests in one day. How fortunate."
"A lucky day starts with hard work?" Morin said lightly.
"If every job were like this, I'd agree," Duke replied with a bow. "This way, Mr. Morin-and the great Mr. Harry Potter."
"So... why?" Harry asked quietly as they walked. "Why do they look at me like that? I think I deserve to know now."
"You didn't know?" Duke said, surprised. "That's understandable. You were just a baby. But a baby who defeated the Dark Lord."
He lowered his voice.
"It sounds impossible. Yet it's true."
"The Dark Lord?" Harry asked. "Who's that?"
"A villain beyond evil," Duke said. "A Dark Wizard who killed countless people and plunged our world into darkness. He feared only Dumbledore-"
"Is his name the Dark Lord?" Harry asked.
"Voldemort," Morin said.
"Ah!" Duke screamed, startling Harry. "S-sorry! I didn't expect you to say that name. Please... could we not mention it again?"
"Fine," Morin said. "We'll call him the Dark Lord."
He continued evenly.
"He killed many people. Including your parents. Ten years ago, he went to your home. You were one year old. He killed them and tried to kill you-but failed."
Morin's tone didn't change.
"You were the only one besides Dumbledore to survive him. And you were a baby. After that, the Dark Lord vanished. The wizarding world believes you defeated him."
"But how?" Harry asked. "I was just a baby."
"No one knows," Morin said. "But you should. Touch the scar on your forehead. That's from the Killing Curse. You survived."
He looked at Harry.
"From that moment, you became the Boy Who Lived."
Harry raised his hand and touched the scar.
Green light flashed.
Cold. Evil. Murderous intent.
And a high, icy laugh.
His body swayed.
A firm hand steadied him.
Warmth chased away the chill.
"Memories aren't always beautiful," Morin said. "But life moves forward. One more thing-you should know the Dark Lord isn't dead."
"Huh?"
"You still have a chance for revenge."
"I understand!" Harry said immediately. "I'll study hard!"
Ahead, Duke walked in silence.
His mind was shattered.
What kind of people were these?
One defeated the Dark Lord as a baby.
The other said it casually.
Better to stay quiet.
Duke opened a door, revealing a narrow stone corridor lit by torches. A steep slope followed a rail downward. He whistled, and a cart shot over. They climbed in and sped off.
"This place is complicated," Harry said, giving up on memorizing the route.
"This is the safest place in the world," Duke said after a pause. "Aside from Hogwarts."
The cart roared through tunnels. Wind howled. Firelight, underground lakes, and stalactites flashed past before they stopped at a small door.
"Have you considered customer comfort?" Harry asked, flattening his hair.
"Our customers value safety," Duke smiled. "But I'll pass it along."
He unlocked the door.
"This is your vault, Mr. Potter."
Harry couldn't speak.
Gold coins. Silver bars. Mountains of bronze.
"Shocked?" Morin asked.
"These... are all mine?"
"Yes," Morin said, handing him a bag. "Take some."
Even with the weight of gold in his hands, it didn't feel real.
They moved on to Vault 713.
Morin retrieved the item without opening it-a small pouch wrapped in brown paper.
"All right," he said. "Let's go shopping."
Back on the surface, they bought supplies. Cauldrons. An owl.
Perhaps because it was late autumn, Harry immediately chose a black-and-white snowy owl.
Then-
Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
Morin led him inside.
"Mr. Morin!" Madam Malkin greeted him warmly. "Buying new clothes?"
So many people know him, Harry realized. And they all seem friendly.
"No, thank you," Morin said, patting Harry's shoulder. "What I bought earlier will last a long time. I'm here for Harry's school robes."
"Harry... that Harry?" Madam Malkin gasped. "How wonderful. You've chosen well-many Hogwarts students shop here. There's one inside right now. Come with me."
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