Harry Potter: Magical Memories

Books on law and tradition were not the only books he ended up buying that day. He also ended up getting more books on subjects taught at Hogwarts such as Herbology, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Transfiguration, which Harry learned through the pretty girl helping him was actually what his Transformation magic was called. He also bought several books on subjects that were not taught at Hogwarts, subjects like Defensive and Offensive spells, Dueling, General Spellbooks, Alchemy, Goblins and a few books on Magical Theory. All in all Harry felt that he had made a pretty good haul.

"I'm not sure how you plan on fitting all this in your trunk," the shop assistant half-joked after they had finished their excursion for the books he was looking for. Of course, she was half joking because there was simply no way Harry would be able to fit all of those books in a normal trunk.

"My parents left me a lot of money," Harry said with a shrug. "So I ended up buying a custom trunk to store books and other things I felt I would need."

"Oh..." the girl shifted uncomfortably at that reminder. Harry had told her he was muggle-raised, which meant he had been unable to be raised by his parents for whatever reason. In this day and age that was not uncommon due to Voldemort's purging of many magical families that had opposed him. There were a large number of orphans in Britain due to the few families that had children that had managed escaped the Dark Lords wrath. She probably, and correctly, assumed that he was one such orphan. "Well, why don't I just ring you up then."

The total cost for all the books Harry decided to get came to a grand total of five-hundred galleons. Not nearly as pricy as his trunk, but still expensive. Still, the money he had used was money well spent in his opinion. Knowledge was power, and right now he had a distinct lack of it as far as the wizarding world was concerned.

"Thank you very much," Harry gave his appreciation to the girl who had helped him with a slight bow of his head. He did not like asking for help often, but when he did he was more than willing to show how grateful he was for the help. It was important to let people know you appreciated what they did for you. Building bridges is what he believed it was called. "I don't believe I ever got your name miss..."

"Well aren't you a little gentlemen," the girl said with a smile. "My name is Cassidy Fergand."

"Cassidy," Harry tested the name before offering the girl a smile. "Thank you for the help. I won't forget it." And unlike other people, Harry really wouldn't forget it. He also wasn't one to just let this go. He was indebted to this girl for helping him, even if she was only doing it because she was paid to, she had gone far beyond what her job called for—spending what had to be at least two or three hours helping him—and he would be sure to pay her back some day.

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Upon exiting Flourish and Blotts, Harry noticed right away that the sun was much higher in the sky than it had been before entering the bookstore. He must have spent at least two hours within that shop. Harry was very glad he had gotten here so early, or he might have had to leave before he even managed to buy all of his school supplies.

Using the positioning of the sun to judge the time, Harry deduced that it was somewhere around midday. In other words, it was high time he grabbed a bite to eat.

Fortunately, there were a number of places where he could find a decent meal at. Harry had seen five different cafe's from while walking to Gringotts. He began moving toward one that caught his fancy when he paused, a small frown flitting across his face as he looked around for the source of his apprehension.

Something was calling him. It wasn't a voice calling out his name, or even a voice in his head calling out to him. It felt more like an innate feeling that something here wanted to get his attention, a tug on his heart that pulled him in a certain direction. Not one to ignore such a feeling, and extremely curious to find out what was calling him, Harry abruptly changed directions and walked away from the cafe he had been about to walk into and towards the source of this strange sensation.

The source that was calling out to him was none other than Eeylops Owl Emporium. The store was very dark on the inside, probably due to the fact that owls were nocturnal creature's. Harry's vision took several moments to adjust, but when he did it was easy to see that the store was really just an open space with no shelves, one counter, and a whole lot of cages containing Owls of all kinds hanging from the rafters.

Many of the owls were of kinds that Harry recognized: Barn, Brown, Tawny, Screech, yet none of those were the ones Harry had sensed calling to him.

"Can I help you, kid?"

Harry almost jerked in surprise. With all the hooting from the Owls in the shop, he hadn't heard the man walking up behind him. Looking over at who he could only guess was the shop keeper, Harry took in the man's general appearance; tall, with brown going on gray hair and a pot belly. He wore the standard black wizarding robes that had several feather's sticking to it, which gave him a bit of an unruly look.

"Maybe," Harry replied, keeping his surprise well hidden. "I'm looking for... an Owl."

The man raised an eyebrow at his pause, but then seemed to shrug off whatever he was thinking. "If it's an owl you're looking for, you've come to the right place. Eeylops is the number one store for getting a pet Owl. What kind are you looking for?"

"I'm... not sure," Harry said, his eyes once more traveling around the store as he tried to find the source of whatever was calling him. "But I'll know when I see her."

"Her?" the man questioned with a raised eyebrow. Harry ignored him as he traveled deeper into the store, searching. He passed by many owls, all of them hooting as they twisted their heads this way and that. Harry was vaguely amused when he watched one owl twist it's head 180-degrees, reminding him of the movie The Exorcist that Lisa had convinced him to watch when she snuck into her parents R-rated movie cabinet.

He also remembered how the girl hadn't been able to sleep in her own bed for several weeks after that and often crawled into his when he spent the night.

It happened when Harry finally reached the back, the moment he discovered the source calling to him: a snowy white owl with the most intelligent amber eyes he had ever seen on something that was not human. She watched him with the utmost concentration from within her cage, glowing eyes that followed his every move.

Harry found himself almost entranced as he walked up to the owl. Visions flitted through his mind. Images. Sensations. He couldn't make heads or tails of them, but knew they came from the white owl. He didn't know how he knew this, just that he did.

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