Having grown up in an orphanage in his previous life, Wyzett was no stranger to insecurity.
For him, the simplest way to feel safe was to have a well-padded wallet.
He had five hundred Galleons now, but with an eye on the future, he knew he had to be careful with his spending.
He hadn't found a way to earn more yet, but saving money was something he could start right away.
Books in the wizarding world were outrageously expensive—none of them cost less than a Galleon apiece.
If he'd relied only on his scholarship, buying just the required textbooks would have eaten up nearly half of it.
Wyzett checked his list and tracked down every book he'd need for his first year at Hogwarts.
He lost himself in the sea of books, nibbling on biscuits whenever he got hungry.
From a distance, a shop assistant watched him for quite some time, her lips pursed in growing impatience as she observed the boy wandering back and forth with a cauldron, flipping through one Hogwarts first-year textbook after another.
She'd seen plenty of freeloaders and had developed a keen sense for sizing up her customers.
Shabby old wizards with weathered faces usually had thick skins—no amount of hints could drive them out.
But this boy was different: carrying a cauldron, browsing only first-year textbooks—clearly a soon-to-be Hogwarts student.
New students were always more self-conscious.
His clothes weren't fancy, so he was unlikely to be from a wealthy pure-blood family.
Browsing textbook after textbook? Probably just wanted to touch new books. If he really intended to buy, he'd likely head for a secondhand shop…
All these factors added up. The assistant strode over.
"You've been here most of the day," she said, forcing a smile. "Would you like me to bring you a cup of tea?"
Wyzett replied instinctively, "Tea? How much does it cost?"
In his previous life, he'd often browsed in bookstores that doubled as cafés, selling drinks and pastries.
"You'll have to go next door for that!" the assistant snapped, pointing outside. "There's an ice cream parlour right over there!"
But then she froze, eyes widening as cold sweat broke out on her brow. "Wait… you're that Obscurial?"
Wyzett was used to this reaction by now. He put the book back on the shelf. "Sorry, I'll leave right away."
He'd already overachieved his goal—his mind was now filled with the contents of a whole stack of books.
Since he'd been asked to leave, there was no reason to linger.
With Hagrid still nowhere in sight, he decided to head to Ollivanders and secure the most important thing: his wand.
"Wait, please—don't say that!" The assistant frantically waved her hands. "You can stay—I didn't mean it! Please, continue…"
"What's going on here?" A well-dressed, elegant man approached, coming to stand between them.
"Mr. Bassat…" The assistant wiped sweat from her brow. "I just noticed this customer had been here a long time and suggested he try the ice cream parlour next door."
"Is that so?" The bookstore owner's tone was thoughtful. "My dear guest, why don't we go upstairs and sit for a while?"
Though puzzled, Wyzett followed the owner up to the second floor.
The moment he stepped onto the upper landing, the noise of the shop below faded away, replaced by a tranquil hush.
It was clear magic had been used to create a completely different atmosphere here.
The second floor was exquisitely arranged, filled with antique furnishings and a sense of timeless elegance.
Wyzett couldn't help but sigh, "What a perfect place to read!"
"Thank you." The owner gestured for him to sit. "Would you like something to drink? Perhaps some tea?"
A little self-conscious, Wyzett nodded. "Of course."
The man smiled. "I'm Clotaire Bassat, owner of Flourish and Blotts. And you are?"
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Bassat. I'm Wyzett."
"The staff's income is tied to sales, so sometimes they act inappropriately. I hope you'll forgive them."
Wyzett was still full of questions—why was the owner treating him so well?
"I understand completely," he replied, waving it off. "She wasn't wrong, really—she did ask if I wanted tea."
Bassat took a sip of his own. "Oh? You really thought… she meant that literally?"
"Yes. I thought maybe you had a tea room or café here for customers to use."
"A tea room in the bookshop? I find that idea fascinating. Could you tell me more?"
Seeing Bassat's genuine interest, Wyzett nodded and shared his ideas from his previous life about bookstores.
Bassat listened intently, even conjuring a quill and parchment with his wand to jot down notes.
"Mr. Bassat, I must say—the atmosphere up here is fantastic, perfect for hosting book clubs or reading groups."
"If you care about the store's reputation, encouraging staff to serve proactively is a great way to enhance it."
"Even if people don't buy books, they'll order tea or pastries. With attentive service and an elegant setting, the whole shop's prestige goes up."
"Brilliant!" Bassat broke into a dazzling smile. "This shop's been in my family for generations, but I've always wanted to add something of my own. Until now, I just couldn't find the right way. But today, you've shown me a brand-new path…"
"Making customers feel welcome, showing them that Flourish and Blotts is truly special—that's a wonderful idea! I can't thank you enough."
Wyzett waved his hands modestly. "I'm just glad to help—especially since I've spent all morning reading here."
Really, he was just borrowing ideas—this model was common enough in the bookstores of his previous life.
But Bassat insisted on thanking him, not only covering all of Wyzett's future textbook expenses, but also reserving him a permanent seat on the second floor.
Whenever Wyzett wanted to read at Flourish and Blotts, tea and pastries would always be free.
Bassat then led him to a small, shabby shopfront. "Wyzett, this is Ollivanders. Be sure to visit the bookstore often."
"If I get the chance…" Wyzett nodded gratefully. "Thank you for bringing me here."
Watching Wyzett enter the shop, Bassat didn't return to the bookstore. Instead, he ducked into Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
He walked briskly to the back, where an elderly man with silver hair sat waiting.
Dumbledore was enjoying a pile of sherbet lemons. "Clotaire, there you are! What did you think of Wyzett?"
"A truly remarkable child!" Bassat replied, beaming. "If not for those reports, I'd never have guessed he was an Obscurial."
"He's so much more mature than his peers—his thinking, too. Merlin's beard! You wouldn't believe it, but I actually got inspiration from him!"
"He gave me an absolutely brilliant idea—something that might even earn my name a place in family history… Maybe even Bathilda will write about it in A History of Magic!"
"Oh? Is that so?" Dumbledore's tone was tinged with surprise. "Tell me more…"
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