Flourish and Blotts stood like a monument to the written word in all its forms—both mundane and magical. The shopfront stretched across what appeared to be three normal-sized buildings that had been convinced to cooperate in housing one of the largest bookstores Harry had ever seen. Windows displayed books whose pages turned themselves, covers that moved like tiny movie screens, and at least one tome that appeared to be having an animated argument with its neighboring volume.
"Right then," Hagrid said, carefully maneuvering Hedwig's travel perch through the doorway while Harry followed with his magically lightened bag of clothes. "This is where we sort out yer books. Fair warning though—Flourish and Blotts has expanded quite a bit since I was a student. Easy to get lost in there if yeh don't know where yer going."
The moment they stepped inside, Harry understood what Hagrid meant. The shop stretched back and up in directions that seemed to defy architectural logic, with staircases leading to mezzanine levels, balconies overlooking reading areas, and sections that appeared to exist in their own pocket dimensions. Books floated freely near the ceiling in organized streams, occasionally diving down to land on appropriate shelves when summoned by customers who knew what they were looking for.
"Schoolbooks are on the ground floor," announced a helpful sign that glowed softly near the entrance. "Advanced Texts: Second Level. Rare and Antiquarian: Third Level and Above. Muggle Studies: East Wing. Defense Against the Dark Arts: Restricted Section (Supervision Required)."
"Schoolbooks it is," Harry said, consulting his Hogwarts letter to double-check the required reading list.
The schoolbook section was organized with the kind of systematic precision that suggested someone had put considerable thought into helping frazzled parents and overwhelmed students find what they needed quickly. Books were arranged by year and subject, with helpful displays showing the complete requirements for each Hogwarts year.
"*The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)* by Miranda Goshawk," Harry read aloud, spotting the familiar title immediately. The book itself was slim and practical-looking, with a cover that sparkled faintly as if dusted with starlight.
"Excellent choice for beginners," commented a nearby shop assistant—a young witch with ink-stained fingers and the enthusiastic expression of someone who genuinely loved books. "Professor Flitwick's been using Goshawk's series for decades. Very clear explanations, good progression from basic theory to practical application."
Harry picked up a copy, noting that it felt warm to the touch and seemed to hum with contained knowledge. "*A History of Magic* by Bathilda Bagshot."
"Bit dry, that one," Hagrid observed, watching as Harry added the hefty volume to his growing stack. "But comprehensive. Bathilda knew her stuff, even if she wasn't the most exciting writer."
"*Magical Theory* by Adalbert Waffling," the shop assistant continued helpfully. "Now that's fascinating reading if you're interested in the underlying principles of how magic actually works. Not everyone enjoys theory, but those who do find it absolutely essential."
Harry's enhanced memory provided context—this would likely be crucial for understanding the deeper mechanics of magic, especially if he was going to be attempting anything advanced or experimental in the coming years.
"*One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi* by Phyllida Spore," Harry continued down his list. The book was smaller than he'd expected but felt surprisingly heavy, as if packed with concentrated information.
"Professor Sprout swears by that one," the assistant noted. "Though I should mention—the illustrated edition is only a few Galleons more, and the pictures actually move. Much easier to identify plants when you can see them in their natural behavior patterns."
"Illustrated edition sounds perfect," Harry said immediately. Given his future plans, having the best possible reference materials for Herbology could prove invaluable.
The collection process continued: "*Magical Drafts and Potions* by Arsenius Jigger" (with animated diagrams showing proper stirring techniques), "*The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection* by Quentin Trimble" (which felt oddly cold to the touch and seemed to whisper warnings when opened), and "*Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them* by Newt Scamander."
"Oh, now that's a proper adventure book, that is," Hagrid said with obvious enthusiasm as Harry picked up the Scamander volume. "Newt was a legend in his time—traveled the world, studied creatures nobody else would go near. This book's saved more lives than most medical texts."
Harry flipped through the pages, watching as illustrations of magical creatures moved through their natural behaviors. A tiny dragon chased its tail in the margin while a bowtruckle appeared to be building a nest in the corner of page 247.
"*A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration* by Emeric Switch," he concluded, adding the final required text to his stack. The book felt oddly unstable in his hands, as if it couldn't quite decide what it wanted to be.
"That's all the required reading," the shop assistant confirmed, consulting her own list. "Though if you're interested, we do carry some excellent supplementary texts for first-years. Study guides, expanded theory books, practical application manuals..."
Harry considered this. His enhanced memory gave him an advantage when it came to retaining information, but having additional reference materials could only help, especially if he encountered magical concepts that hadn't been fully explored in the original books.
"What would you recommend?"
"Well, *Magical Fundamentals: A Practical Guide for New Students* is quite popular," she said, pulling out a book with a cheerful blue cover. "Covers all the basic concepts they assume you know but don't always teach explicitly. Things like magical theory, wand care, basic safety protocols."
"Sounds useful."
"And *Hogwarts: A History* is always worthwhile, though technically not required until third year. Gives you context for understanding the school's traditions and why certain rules exist."
Harry's enhanced memory supplied abundant information about Hogwarts' history, but having the official version could be valuable for comparison purposes. "I'll take that as well."
Twenty minutes and a considerable stack of books later, Harry approached the counter to pay for his new library. The total came to thirty-two Galleons, which barely made a dent in his shopping budget but represented more books than Harry Potter had ever owned in his previous life.
"Excellent selections," the cashier observed, tapping each book with her wand as she rang them up. "Auto-updating charms for books that release revised editions, protective covers that resist spills and tears, and bookmarks that remember where you left off even if you lose them."
"Auto-updating?" Harry asked.
"Oh yes, very convenient. When publishers release corrected or expanded editions, the charms automatically incorporate the changes into your existing copy. Means you never have outdated information, and you don't have to keep buying new editions every few years."
Another example of how the magical world had evolved beyond what the original books had described. Harry was beginning to realize that 2021's wizarding society was considerably more sophisticated than its 1990s counterpart.
Books secured in his expanding collection of packages, they left Flourish and Blotts and headed toward their next destination: the Apothecary.
The scent hit them half a block away—a complex mixture of herbs, spices, and things that probably shouldn't be combined in enclosed spaces. It wasn't unpleasant, exactly, but it was definitely intense, like walking into a greenhouse that had been cross-bred with a chemistry lab and possibly a swamp.
"Fair warning," Hagrid said as they approached the shop, "the Apothecary can be a bit overwhelming on first visit. They've got ingredients from all over the world, some of which are still technically alive, and a few that might try to follow yeh home if yeh're not careful."
The shopfront was narrow but gave the impression of extending back much further than seemed architecturally possible. Jars and bottles filled the windows, containing substances that ranged from the familiar (what appeared to be dried herbs) to the decidedly exotic (something that glowed and pulsed like a tiny heartbeat).
Inside, the Apothecary was organized chaos. Floor-to-ceiling shelves held thousands of jars, bottles, vials, and containers, each one labeled with precise handwriting and many of them moving slightly as their contents shifted or reacted to ambient magical energy. A series of scales occupied one wall, from delicate precision instruments that could measure individual granules to massive devices clearly designed for bulk ingredients.
"Good afternoon!" called the proprietor—a stooped man with wild gray hair and stains on his apron that suggested his work involved substances that didn't always cooperate. "Let me guess—first year Hogwarts student?"
"That's right," Harry confirmed, pulling out his supply list. "I need a basic potions kit."
"Excellent! Standard ingredients for Professor Snape's classes, I assume? Let me see..." He consulted a well-worn list tacked to the wall behind his counter. "Powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, dried nettles, porcupine quills—silver, not the cheaper bronze ones—feverfew, flobberworms, horned slugs, ginger roots, scarab beetles..."
As he spoke, jars began floating down from the shelves with practiced precision, landing on the counter in neat rows. The contents were as varied as they were fascinating—some glittering like gems, others writhing with their own internal movement, a few that seemed to watch Harry with what could charitably be described as interest.
"Now then," the proprietor continued, "I always recommend the deluxe ingredients kit for serious students. Yes, it costs a bit more, but the quality difference is remarkable. Potions made with premium ingredients are more stable, more effective, and much less likely to explode in your face."
"Exploding potions are bad?" Harry asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"Oh yes, very bad. Particularly in Professor Snape's classroom—he doesn't appreciate students who create unnecessary excitement during lessons." The man's expression suggested personal experience with Snape's reaction to potions mishaps. "Premium ingredients make it much easier to achieve consistent results."
"Deluxe kit it is," Harry decided. Given his future plans, having reliable potions ingredients could prove crucial.
The final cost was eighteen Galleons for what appeared to be a traveling apothecary's complete stock, all of it packed into a specially designed case that kept each ingredient in optimal condition while preventing them from interacting with each other in unfortunate ways.
"Word of advice," the proprietor said as he handed over the case. "Never, ever, under any circumstances, mix flobberworms with bicorn horn unless you're absolutely certain you know what you're doing. And if Professor Snape asks you to identify an ingredient by smell, don't actually put your nose too close to the jar. Some things smell much stronger than they should, and a few are designed to smell appealing right before they do something unpleasant to whoever's sniffing them."
"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said solemnly, filing away the advice along with everything else he was learning about magical education.
Their next stop was considerably less aromatic: a shop specializing in cauldrons, scales, and the other practical equipment required for magical education.
"Cauldron Central: Everything for the Modern Potioneer" occupied a storefront that looked like someone had decided industrial functionality should be the highest form of aesthetic achievement. The windows displayed cauldrons in every conceivable size and material, from tiny personal brewing vessels to massive industrial units that could probably supply potions for entire armies.
Inside, the shop was organized with military precision. Cauldrons were arranged by size, material, and intended use, with clear signage explaining the advantages and limitations of each option. Scales occupied another section, ranging from basic balance devices to sophisticated instruments that could measure ingredients to the nearest particle and automatically adjust for ambient magical interference.
"First year student?" asked the proprietor—a brisk woman with the competent air of someone who'd spent years helping customers select exactly the right equipment for their needs. "Standard pewter cauldron, size 2, plus brass scales?"
"That's what the list says," Harry confirmed.
"Right, but let me show you some alternatives that might serve you better in the long run." She led him toward a display of cauldrons that looked considerably more sophisticated than the basic pewter model. "Standard pewter is fine for basic potions, but it's not particularly durable, and it doesn't handle temperature variations well. For just a few Galleons more, you can get a reinforced pewter model that'll last through all seven years and handle advanced brewing techniques."
The enhanced cauldron did look more substantial, with reinforced handles and a base that appeared designed for serious use rather than just meeting minimum requirements.
"And instead of basic brass scales," she continued, "consider the auto-calibrating model. Same price as the standard scales plus a precision upgrade, but they automatically adjust for magical interference and give you much more accurate measurements. Crucial for advanced potions work."
Harry was beginning to recognize a pattern in these shopping interactions: the people running these businesses were clearly experienced with the realities of magical education and were willing to recommend upgrades that would actually improve students' chances of success, even if it meant slightly higher prices.
"I'll take the enhanced versions," he decided.
The cauldron and scales, along with the required glass phials and a brass telescope that was apparently necessary for Astronomy classes, came to fifteen Galleons—a reasonable investment in equipment that would serve him throughout his magical education.
"One final recommendation," the proprietor said as she packaged his purchases. "Consider investing in a good equipment maintenance kit. Cauldrons need regular cleaning with specialized solutions, scales require recalibration, and telescopes need proper care to maintain their magical enhancement. Bit of prevention saves a lot of replacement costs."
The maintenance kit was another five Galleons, but Harry was beginning to understand that magical education involved considerably more equipment care than Muggle schooling, and having the right tools for maintaining everything would probably save money and frustration in the long run.
"Right then," Hagrid said as they emerged from the equipment shop with Harry's growing collection of packages, "that should cover most of yer list. Just need a proper trunk to carry it all, and then we'll be done with the shopping."
"Where do we get a school trunk?" Harry asked.
Hagrid's grin suggested he'd been looking forward to this part of the shopping trip. "Oh, that's the best bit. There's a trunk shop just around the corner that's... well, yeh'll see. Magical storage solutions are one area where wizards have really outdone themselves."
The shop in question was called "Expandable Storage Solutions: Trunks, Cases, and Containers for the Modern Wizard," and from the outside, it looked like a perfectly ordinary luggage store. Inside, however, it was immediately apparent that "ordinary" was a concept the proprietor had abandoned long ago.
Trunks lined the walls and filled the floor space, ranging from simple school models to elaborate creations that appeared to defy several fundamental laws of physics. Some were obviously larger inside than outside, others had multiple compartments that seemed to exist in different dimensions, and at least one appeared to contain what looked like a fully furnished apartment.
"Welcome!" called the proprietor, a enthusiastic man whose excitement about his products was immediately evident. "School trunk for Hogwarts? Excellent! We have options ranging from basic storage to... well, to whatever your imagination and budget can accommodate."
He led them toward a display area where various trunk models were opened to show their internal configurations.
"Basic model," he said, indicating a simple-looking trunk, "standard size inside and out, good locks, durability charms. Perfectly adequate for storing clothes, books, and school supplies."
Harry peered inside. It was, indeed, perfectly adequate—about the size and depth of a normal trunk, with a few basic organizational compartments.
"Enhanced model," the proprietor continued, moving to the next display, "same external dimensions, but with an Undetectable Extension Charm. About three times the internal capacity, plus better organization features."
This trunk was clearly larger inside, with multiple compartments and what appeared to be a small wardrobe area.
"Deluxe model," he said, his enthusiasm building. "Now we're getting into serious magical storage. Ten times normal capacity, climate control for different types of items, automatic organization system, and security features."
The deluxe trunk was impressive—room for everything a student could possibly need, with specialized areas for books, clothes, potions equipment, and general storage.
"And then," the proprietor said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "we have the premium models."
He led them toward the back of the shop, where a single trunk sat open in a place of honor. Harry looked inside and felt his jaw drop.
It wasn't just larger inside—it contained what appeared to be a complete living space. A comfortable sitting room opened onto what looked like a bedroom, a study area with built-in bookshelves, and even what appeared to be a small kitchen area.
"This model," the proprietor said proudly, "features a complete two-room apartment with all amenities. Climate controlled, magically lit, with expansion charms that can accommodate virtually unlimited storage. The study area includes research facilities, the bedroom has a proper bed and wardrobe space, and the sitting room can be configured for entertaining guests or just relaxing after a long day."
"It's like..." Harry started, then stopped, his enhanced memory providing the reference. "It's like Newt Scamander's case from *Fantastic Beasts.*"
"Exactly!" the proprietor beamed. "We actually licensed some of the design elements from Scamander's original work. This model is particularly popular with students who want to maintain a high level of comfort and privacy during their education."
"How much does something like this cost?" Harry asked, expecting a price that would require most of his vault's contents.
"For this model? Fifty Galleons."
Harry blinked. "Fifty Galleons? For a trunk that contains an apartment?"
"Oh yes. Magical storage is surprisingly affordable once you understand the principles involved. The Extension Charms are well-established magic, the environmental systems are fairly standard, and the main cost is in the craftsmanship and attention to detail."
Harry was rapidly learning that magical economics operated on principles that had very little to do with Muggle concepts of cost and value. Somehow, a trunk containing a complete living space cost less than a modest selection of school books.
"I'll take it," he said without hesitation.
"Excellent choice! You'll find it makes school life much more comfortable. Privacy when you need it, space for studying, proper storage for everything you'll accumulate over seven years of education." The proprietor began closing the trunk, which somehow managed to contain its impossible interior without any apparent strain. "It also comes with security features—responds only to your magical signature, can't be opened by unauthorized persons, and has emergency protocols if someone tries to force entry."
As the proprietor processed the purchase and explained the trunk's various features, Harry found himself marveling at the practicalities of magical life. In one afternoon of shopping, he'd acquired not just school supplies, but essentially everything he would need to live independently and comfortably throughout his magical education.
*And I've barely spent a quarter of my shopping budget,* he realized, doing quick mental arithmetic. The total for everything—clothes, books, equipment, ingredients, and even the miraculous trunk—was less than two hundred Galleons out of the two hundred and fifty he'd withdrawn.
"Right then," Hagrid said as they left the trunk shop with Harry's final purchase, "that's yeh sorted for school. Got everything yeh need and then some."
Harry looked down at his new trunk—compact and manageable from the outside, containing impossible wonders within—and felt a surge of anticipation for what lay ahead.
"This has been the best day of my life," he said quietly, and meant it more than Hagrid could possibly know.
The half-giant's expression softened with understanding. "First day of yer real life, more like. Everything before this was just... preparation."
As they began making their way back through Diagon Alley toward the Leaky Cauldron, Harry caught sight of their reflection in a shop window: a giant man, a young wizard with his snowy owl, and a trunk that contained miracles, walking through the heart of the magical world like they belonged there.
Because they did belong there. For the first time in either of his lives, Harry was exactly where he was supposed to be, with exactly the tools he needed to build the future he wanted.
*Tomorrow,* he thought contentedly, *I'll check in with the system and see what day two of this new life brings. But today... today has been perfect.*
Behind them, the mysterious figure in the dark cloak watched their departure from the shadows between shops, then melted away into the crowd with the satisfied air of someone whose reconnaissance mission had been completed successfully.
But Harry was focused on the future, on magic and possibility and the incredible trunk that would give him a private space to plan and prepare for all the challenges ahead.
The real adventure was about to begin.
—
The room Hagrid had secured for them at the Leaky Cauldron was exactly what Harry might have expected from a pub that had been serving travelers for centuries—small, cozy, and furnished with the kind of sturdy practicality that prioritized function over aesthetics. Two narrow beds occupied most of the space, separated by a nightstand that had probably been crafted sometime during the reign of Queen Victoria. The single window looked out onto the back courtyard where the entrance to Diagon Alley lay hidden behind brick and magic.
Hagrid had already retired for the evening, his massive frame somehow managing to fit onto his bed through what Harry suspected was a combination of careful positioning and possibly minor spatial manipulation charms. The half-giant's gentle snores provided a comforting background rhythm as Harry sat on his own bed, Hedwig perched on the windowsill preening her pristine white feathers in the moonlight.
"Right then," Harry whispered to his owl, "time to see what we've actually bought."
He placed the trunk on the floor beside his bed and opened it carefully. Even knowing what to expect, seeing the interior still made him catch his breath. Wooden stairs led down into what appeared to be a completely normal sitting room, lit by soft magical lighting that adjusted automatically to provide perfect illumination without being harsh.
Harry climbed down into his new home—because that's what it was, really, his first actual home—with Hedwig following on silent wings. She settled on the back of an armchair that looked both comfortable and expensive, regarding their new surroundings with the critical eye of someone evaluating real estate.
The sitting room was everything the trunk manufacturer had promised. Comfortable furniture arranged for both relaxation and conversation, built-in bookshelves that would easily accommodate his new magical library, and a small fireplace that radiated warmth without producing any smoke or requiring fuel. The walls were paneled in warm wood that seemed to glow with its own inner light, and the floor was covered with rugs that felt expensive underfoot.
"This is incredible," Harry murmured, running his hand along the smooth surface of a writing desk that appeared to be made from a single piece of polished mahogany. Everything was perfectly crafted, perfectly proportioned, and perfectly suited to providing a comfortable living space within impossible constraints.
A doorway led to what the proprietor had described as the bedroom area. Harry stepped through and immediately understood why this trunk cost fifty Galleons rather than five—this wasn't just a bedroom, it was a complete sleeping suite that would have been impressive in a luxury hotel.
The room was dominated by a four-poster bed that looked like it had been designed for royalty who happened to appreciate both comfort and practicality. The mattress was thick and inviting, covered in linens that appeared to be silk but felt somehow more substantial. Curtains could be drawn for privacy, and the bedside tables were equipped with magical lighting that responded to touch.
But it was the wardrobe system that truly impressed Harry. Instead of a simple closet, the bedroom featured what could only be described as a complete dressing room. Hanging space for robes and formal wear, drawers for everyday clothes, specialized storage for shoes and accessories, and even a full-length mirror that appeared to provide honest but diplomatic feedback about one's appearance.
"No more living out of Dudley's cast-offs," Harry told Hedwig, who had followed him into the bedroom and was examining the perch that had been thoughtfully installed near the window—or what appeared to be a window, though Harry suspected it was actually a magical display showing the view from outside the trunk.
The study area was equally impressive. Built-in bookshelves lined the walls, with reading tables positioned to take advantage of the magical lighting. There were areas clearly designed for different types of work—a section with scales and measurement tools for potions preparation, a space with star charts and astronomical instruments, and even what appeared to be a small laboratory area with proper ventilation and safety equipment.
*Perfect for advanced magical research,* Harry thought, his enhanced memory already cataloging the possibilities. *This is exactly what I'll need if I'm going to figure out how to safely remove a Horcrux, not to mention keeping up with my studies and staying ahead of whatever challenges Hogwarts throws at me.*
But it was the kitchen that truly sealed Harry's conviction that this trunk was the best investment he'd ever made.
The space was compact but complete, with everything needed for serious cooking and food preparation. A proper stove that ran on magical energy, a sink with running water that never ran cold, preparation areas with surfaces that stayed clean and sanitary, and most importantly, storage areas with preservation fields that would keep food fresh indefinitely.
Harry consulted the manual that had come with the trunk, flipping to the section on kitchen operations. According to the documentation, the preservation fields were military-grade magic, originally developed for extended military campaigns where supply lines were uncertain. Food stored within the designated areas would remain exactly as fresh as the moment it was placed there, regardless of how much time passed.
*Which means,* Harry realized with growing excitement, *I can stock this place with enough food to last the entire month I have to spend at Privet Drive. No more depending on the Dursleys' questionable generosity with meals.*
He made a mental note to return to Diagon Alley in the morning—Hagrid had already agreed to let him do one more round of shopping before they returned to Little Whinging—and visit shops that sold preserved foods, cooking supplies, and everything else he'd need to be completely self-sufficient during his remaining time with the Dursleys.
*Plus,* he thought, settling onto the magnificent bed and marveling at how it seemed to adjust to his body weight and preferred sleeping position, *this gives me a private space where I can plan without anyone monitoring my activities. Somewhere I can study advanced magic, practice spells, and work on solving my Horcrux problem without having to explain to anyone why I'm suddenly interested in soul magic.*
Hedwig had claimed the perch near the window and was settling in for the night with obvious satisfaction. Her presence made the space feel more like home—having someone who belonged to him, who had chosen to be with him, transformed the elaborate magical apartment from impressive luxury into genuine sanctuary.
Harry stretched out on the bed, fully clothed but more comfortable than he'd ever been in his life. The mattress seemed to embrace him like a gentle hug, the linens were soft against his skin, and for the first time since waking up in this new life, he felt completely safe and completely private.
*Tomorrow I go back to the Dursleys,* he thought, but the prospect no longer filled him with dread. *But now I have this. My own space, my own food, my own sanctuary. They can't touch this. They can't take this away.*
As he lay in the comfortable darkness, listening to Hedwig's soft breathing and the almost imperceptible hum of the magical systems that kept their impossible home functioning, Harry felt a gentle chime in his mind that indicated the check-in system was ready for his attention.
[DAILY CHECK-IN SYSTEM]
[Current Time: 11:47 PM]
[Next Check-in Available: 00:01 AM (13 minutes)]
[Current Streak: 1 Day]
[Streak Bonus Progress: 1/7 Days to Next Tier]
*Almost time,* Harry thought contentedly. *Day two of my new life begins in thirteen minutes.*
He closed his eyes, not to sleep—he was far too excited about everything that had happened and everything that was coming—but just to process the remarkable changes in his circumstances. This morning he'd been Harry Potter, the unwanted boy living in a cupboard under the stairs. Tonight he was Harry Potter, wizard, owner of a magical owl and an impossible trunk, heir to a fortune that meant he'd never have to depend on anyone's charity ever again.
*And in 364 more days,* he reminded himself, *I'll be Harry Potter, wizard, with a piece of Voldemort safely removed from his head and a clean soul to go with his clean conscience.*
The system chimed softly in his mind as midnight approached, but Harry was already drifting into the kind of peaceful, anticipatory doze that came from being exactly where you belonged, with exactly the tools you needed, and exactly the right companion to share the adventure.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new discoveries, and new opportunities to build the future he wanted. But tonight, in his impossible home with his faithful owl, Harry Potter was exactly where he was meant to be.
*Twelve minutes,* the system whispered in the back of his mind. *Are you ready for day two?*
Harry smiled in the magical darkness of his new sanctuary. "More than ready," he whispered back. "Bring it on."
Outside—far outside, in the real world beyond his trunk's magical confines—London slept on, unaware that the Boy Who Lived had just acquired the tools and space he needed to begin reshaping his destiny.
The real adventure was about to begin.
---
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