— — — — — —
Following Sirius and Harry, Tom stepped into the ice cream shop. The three found a seat by the window.
There were a few other customers inside, chatting over their sundaes. With a casual flick of his hand, Tom silenced the surrounding noise. The room fell instantly quiet.
Sirius's eyes lit up. "A wandless Silencing Charm? Merlin, if I'd known that one back at school, I could've charmed half the girls in Hogwarts. At the same time."
Harry grinned. "Didn't you say you already were popular back then?"
"Of course I was," Sirius said proudly, puffing out his chest. "I got more love letters than your father and Remus combined."
They didn't talk like godfather and godson—more like friends catching up after a long trip. Soon, the conversation drifted to what Sirius had been up to since his release.
And well... It started not long after the trial, when he turned up at Number Four, Privet Drive to visit Harry.
Naturally, the Dursleys weren't exactly thrilled to have a "freak" showing up at their perfectly normal home. The shouting match that followed could probably be heard halfway down the street, and it only ended when Harry finally managed to drag Sirius outside.
But Sirius was persistent. He came back every day for the next week until the Dursleys, at their breaking point, finally agreed he could visit once a week if it meant some peace.
That arrangement didn't last long, though—because Sirius went ahead and bought Number Six, Privet Drive.
For Harry, it felt like all his years of misery had finally paid off. Now his godfather was just around the corner. He only had to sleep at the Dursleys' house and didn't need to talk to them at all. Honestly, it was more comfortable than Hogwarts.
Well, it would be the opposite—if Snape resigned.
And today, the pair had come to order Harry a Firebolt. Harry didn't actually want one—the price was ridiculous—but Sirius was desperate to make up for lost time, so here they were.
"..."
Eating a scoop of Unicorn Dream ice cream, Tom said casually, "I thought you'd have hexed them into next week."
"He wanted to," Harry admitted with a nod. "But Sirius didn't even reach for his wand. Otherwise Vernon would've shut up real quick."
"Come on, kid, I'm not that reckless."
Sirius laughed, ruffling Harry's hair. "Sure, your aunt and uncle treat you poorly, but they haven't starved you or left you naked. And they still take you in during the holidays. That's more than I got. When I cut ties with my family in fourth year, my mother never once came to pick me up. Every break I went home with James."
"I can see why you hate them," Sirius continued, "but their disgust is for what you are, not who. They despise wizards, yet they still took you in. They're not good people, but they haven't exactly wronged you either."
Harry looked down, deep in thought. Tom raised an eyebrow. "You're smarter than Professor Snape gives you credit for."
Sirius's grin froze. His jaw tightened. "That greasy bat wouldn't say anything nice about me if his life depended on it. Don't believe a word, Tom. Honestly, I've no idea what possessed the Sorting Hat to dump you in Slytherin."
"Yeah…" Tom sighed dramatically. "I was born a Hufflepuff at heart."
Sirius stared. For a second, he was tempted to say that Tom's tendency to punch first and talk later made him more of a Gryffindor—but Hufflepuff? That was a stretch.
"How about I buy you a Firebolt too?" Sirius said suddenly, the idea flashing in his mind as a way to thank him. It could be a warm-up gift before a bigger gesture later.
Tom chuckled. "No need, I've already got one. If you really want to thank me, tell me how you guys made the Marauder's Map—and maybe let me copy the Black family library."
"Deal," Sirius said without hesitation. "I'll take you to the old Black manor sometime. Take whatever you want. Hell, you can even haul off my mother's portrait if you like."
Harry winced at the memory of 12 Grimmauld Place and Lady Black's ear-splitting screeches.
...
They spent the next hour with Sirius explaining how the Marauder's Map was created—its magic layering, enchantment structure, and detection runes. Harry tried to follow but quickly zoned out, staring blankly out the window while Tom nodded along, occasionally jotting something down.
Before they parted, Tom reminded them, "My shop's reopening the day after tomorrow. Drop by if you've got time."
"Shop?" Harry asked curiously. "In Diagon Alley? What are you selling?"
He didn't really care what it was—whatever Tom was selling, he'd show up and buy something anyway.
"You'll find out in the papers tomorrow," Tom said with a smirk. He tossed a handful of enchanted Floo powder into the fireplace and disappeared in a swirl of green flame.
Sirius and Harry exchanged a look.
"Bit mysterious, isn't he?" Sirius muttered.
Harry nodded. "Yeah… still, he's amazing. Not even out of school and already running a business."
---
Two days passed in a flash.
By then, every wizarding newspaper and magazine was plastered with ads for Tom's new product, The Codex. From the Daily Prophet to The Quibbler, even down to the smallest wizarding circulars, the same headlines were everywhere.
Curiosity swept the wizarding world. A magical notebook that could connect instantly across any distance? Everyone wanted to see if it was real.
So when release day arrived, crowds flooded Diagon Alley, eager to get a look.
Harry and Sirius had promised they'd come, and they weren't ones to break their word.
Stepping out of the Leaky Cauldron's back courtyard into the bustling street, both stopped dead.
Huge floating posters hung in the air, shimmering words advertising the Codex Notebook. Shopfronts were covered with banners and signs reading:
{Break the boundaries of magical communication — the Codex is rewriting the world.}
{Say goodbye to waiting— It's the Codex Notebook.}
{Yes. No more waiting, no more distance — stay connected anytime with the Codex.}
{Instant. Reliable. Effortless. Keep in touch with your children at Hogwarts — the Codex keeps families close.}
{Need to reach your team anytime, anywhere? Equip them with a Codex today!}
Harry stared up at the floating banners looping endlessly through the sky. Every storefront had an ad board, every awning had a logo.
"This is still Diagon Alley… right?"
The whole street looked like it had been completely taken over by Tom.
Sirius gave a low whistle. "Impressive. Come on, Harry—let's follow the crowd. Wherever everyone's going, that's where the good stuff is."
The river of witches and wizards surged in one direction, and they didn't need to guess where it led. The entire alley was buzzing, and even the oldest residents admitted they'd never seen every shop advertising the same thing before.
Of course, this wasn't all Tom's doing. Behind it was Lady Greengrass—or more accurately, the influence of the Ollivanders.
The Ollivanders weren't just "wandmakers." They were one of London's oldest magical families, owning nearly half the property in Diagon Alley. Long before it became a bustling shopping street, they'd already bought up the land. Even now, most shops paid rent to them.
As for the Greengrass family, their land rights went back three centuries to when their ancestors helped the Ollivanders find rare materials. That favor had been repaid with deeds.
Lady Greengrass's "old friend" was none other than Garrick Ollivander himself. She'd once provided him with a shipment of rare wand wood, and this time, she was calling in that favor.
"..."
The closer they got to the shop, the tighter the crowd pressed. A giant floating display above the building showed how Codex worked—how to write messages, how they instantly appeared in the recipient's notebook. Every demonstration drew a fresh wave of astonished murmurs.
Half-blood wizards were the quickest to catch on.
Many of them had Muggle relatives or backgrounds, and since the Ministry banned them from using magic around their spouses, they were already familiar with Muggle inventions like pagers and text messages. For years, they'd complained about how primitive wizarding communication was.
Now, they were dragging friends along to buy Codexs—after all, one notebook was useless without someone to talk to.
The shop entrance was a madhouse. People inside couldn't get out, people outside couldn't get in. Lady Greengrass had hired three temporary clerks, but they were drowning in orders.
"Don't push! Please leave space for customers exiting!" the shop girl shouted over the chaos. "We have plenty of stock—everyone will get a Codex!"
Her voice was instantly swallowed by the noise. People were shouting over one another as they shoved toward the door:
"I want five standard editions!"
"Three for me! Stop pushing—I'm getting crushed here!"
"Just one! Take my damn Galleons and hand it over already! Huh, what is that poking my back?!"
Harry's scalp prickled. "Uh… are we supposed to queue for this?"
Sirius braced himself. "It's Tom's invention—we've got to show support. I'm thinking we buy, what, a hundred?"
Harry blinked at him. "…"
Yeah, like Tom needed their help at this point.
Before he could reply, a familiar, drawling voice sliced through the din. "Well, well. Isn't this Potter? Still standing in line with the commoners?"
Harry turned. Draco Malfoy was lounging smugly near the edge of the crowd, his father beside him. Draco waved the Codex notebook in his hand. "Jealous, Potter? Better hope they don't sell out before sunset!"
Harry frowned. "So you got here a few minutes early—congratulations. Want a medal for it?"
Draco burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. "Dad! He thinks we queued! Hahaha~ So funny~!"
Lucius Malfoy gave a cold, elegant smile. "You must forgive the poor Potter, Draco. He doesn't understand that wherever there's a line… there's also a way to skip it."
He tilted his chin toward Harry. "A mere three-thousand-Galleon deposit, and the store was happy to accommodate. Tell me, Potter, care to empty your vault for the privilege?"
"Three thousand Galleons?" Sirius's voice cut through the noise before Harry could respond. "Tom really ought to set the bar higher if it lets you lot in."
The Malfoys turned as Sirius Black pushed through the crowd, shoulders squared and eyes gleaming. Both father and son instinctively stepped back.
"Draco Malfoy, right?" Sirius gave the boy a once-over. "My dear nephew. You've inherited your mother's spite and your father's stupidity. What a combination."
Draco's face went from red to white in seconds. He opened his mouth, but when Sirius's sharp, wolfish eyes met his, he shrank back. Lucius stepped forward protectively, sneering.
"Black," Lucius said, voice dripping venom, "you are no kin of ours. You were struck from the family tree long ago."
Sirius smirked. "Really? Then why do I own every last Black vault, hmm?"
He raised his wand, the tip glinting inches from Lucius's throat, and his voice rang loud enough to echo through the entire street.
"I'll take five hundred Codex notebooks—right now!"
.
.
.