Alchemy professor at Hogwarts

Chapter 172 Harry's Summer Vacation Life

Hardy got even busier when he returned to Hogwarts.

He would have to take Harry Potter to live in Diagon Alley for a while, and staying away from the dementors would help his physical and mental health.

In addition, researching the production of the Sword of Oath of Victory and the collection of materials is also quite troublesome.

Also, half a magic manuscript sent by President Grant.

Hardy wasn't even sure whether the things recorded on it would allow him to truly learn to sing and refine.

"Principal Dumbledore, what do you think of the refinement of singing?" In the principal's office, Hardy and Dumbledore enjoyed an exquisite afternoon tea.

The wise old man in front of him smiled, and he said, "I am very happy to see that it is true, which means that you can go further on the road of magic."

"We?" Hardy paused while holding the black tea, "This sentence seems to deliberately exclude you."

Dumbledore laughed, and he blinked: "Oh, yes, that's it."

"I'm too old—"

He folded his hands on his chest, looking like he was nostalgic for the past: "Old age is sometimes a good thing. It often means wonderful life experiences, extensive interpersonal relationships, and rich reserves of knowledge."

"However," he paused: "These things will also become the shackles that bind us old men, and we are not so easy to accept new things."

Hardy seemed to understand what Dumbledore meant, but he still didn't believe it, so he didn't interrupt, but chose to continue listening.

"Singing and refining, for the existing magic wand manufacturing skills, there is no doubt that it is a huge impact..."

"Ah, I suppose a wand to be made in this way must be of unusual material."

……

On the new day, Hardy quietly left Hogwarts with Harry. They came to the lively Diagon Alley through the fireplace of the castle, where they would spend the rest of their summer vacation.

On the bridge of Harry's nose, staring into the huge black-rimmed glasses, his hair became as red as Ron, but his body was as fat as Neville.

After emerging from the common fireplace in Diagon Alley, Harry wandered excitedly back and forth in front of the different wizards.

"What's wrong with you guy?" A bald wizard with a butterbeer stared at Harry.

He ran back happily: "Professor, they really don't recognize me."

Hardy nodded: "Of course, as long as the black-rimmed glasses stay on the bridge of your nose."

Through the bustling crowd, Hardy took Harry to Ollivander's wand shop and handed it to Uncle Garrick.

As for him, he needs to go out for a few days in order to collect materials for making the Sword of Oath of Victory.

After fighting Anthony, Hardy felt that he still had a lot less means to deal with danger.

New alchemy products are imminent.

Harry, who came to live in Diagon Alley, quickly got used to this strange freedom that he had never experienced before.

Before, he could never get up when he thought about it, and eat whatever he liked.

Now he could even go wherever he wanted, as long as it was in Diagon Alley, the long cobbled street lined with the most alluring wizarding shops in the world.

Harry eats breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron every morning, and he likes to check out the other patrons:
Weird little witches from the country, out early in the morning to do their shopping; frail-looking wizards debating the latest article in Transfiguration Today; unkempt wizards; rowdy dwarves...

And once another hag-like figure, wrapped in a thick wool coat with a balaclava, ordered a plate of raw liver.

In the morning, he would help Garrick Ollivander with some chores at Ollivander's Wand Shop.

As a reward, Garrick would always explain all kinds of common sense about wands and wand cores to each other, which benefited Harry a lot.

"Ron and Hermione will definitely be surprised when they come back!" thought Harry, helping Garrick straighten the curvy unicorn fur.

On those long, sunny afternoons, Harry wandered in and out of the shops in Diagon Alley, eating lunch and dinner under brightly colored parasols outside the cafés.

The customers he dined with showed each other their purchases: "It's a moonscope, old man—no more messing with moon charts, is there?"

Or on the case of Sirius Black: "Personally, I wouldn't let my kid go out alone until he's back in Azkaban."

He particularly liked sitting in the bright sunlight outside Florin Fusco's ice cream parlor, finishing his papers, with Florin Fusco sometimes helping him.

Not only did he know a lot about witch burnings in the Middle Ages, but he gave Harry a free ice cream every half hour.

After Harry had refilled his purse with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and copper Knuts from the Gringotts vault, it took a great deal of fortitude not to spend it all at once.

He had to keep reminding himself that he had five more years at Hogwarts, and what it would be like to ask the Dursleys for money for spellbooks.

He refrained from buying the beautiful set of pure gold gobstones, a wizard's toy that resembled a pinball game, the stones spraying a foul-smelling fluid in the face of the loser.

He was also fascinated by the exquisite model of galaxy activity in a large glass ball. If he bought it, he would no longer need to go to astronomy class.

But the toughest test of his will came a week after Harry arrived in Diagon Alley, at his favorite shop, the Quidditch Boutique.

Harry wondered what the crowds were looking at, so he sidled in, pushing his way past excited wizards and wizards, until he caught sight of a freshly erected table with a handful of the most amazing things he had ever seen in his life. The grandest broom ever.

"Just came out... samples..." a square-jawed wizard told his companion.

"It's the fastest broom in the world. Isn't it, Daddy?" a boy younger than Harry asked sharply, shaking his father's arm.

"Ireland International Club has just placed an order for seven of these boutiques!" the shop owner told everyone, "They are very popular in this World Cup!"

A large witch in front of Harry moved away, and he stood on tiptoe vigorously, trying to see what was written on the sign next to the broom.

"Firebolt, streamlined design, high-quality ash handle, diamond polished, registration number hand-engraved. Each carefully selected birch branch at the end of the broom has been streamlined, giving the broom unparalleled balance and exquisite accuracy."

"It can accelerate from zero to 150 miles per hour in ten seconds, and it can perform magical braking effects. It took me a full six minutes to design this thing."

Beside Harry, Hardy's figure suddenly appeared. His wizard robe was dusty, as if he had just returned from a far away place.

(End of this chapter)