5 Ch5. Leaky Cauldron

Days passed and the Hogwarts invitation letter arrived. Harry supposed some Potterheads would squeal in delight when receiving the letter. He instead just glared at it stone-faced when he saw the address it was sent to.

Cupboard under the stairs.

His resolve steeled yet again and he was sorely tempted to write a reply. One nicely worded 'Fuck you.' would suffice, he supposed.

Harry didn't make a fuss like the original would have done. He just dismissively put it in front of Vernon and went into his cupboard. Only to hear Vernon squeal in rage like a pig after apparently reading the letter. Harry chuckled. Vernon acted like a typical Potterhead!

…

It didn't take long for Dursleys to give up and move into the old light-house. The room half-filled with letters was the most amazing magic trick Harry has seen so far. It baffled him how utterly stupid the original must have been to not realize that something is fishy about receiving thousands of copies of the same letter. After all, the Dursleys didn't move out only because of fear. Nay. They moved because their house was literally flooded with the letters. It went into such an extreme, it was actually unhabitable!

From there Harry witnessed the usual gig with Hagrids arrival and by now he was standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

He was not impressed!

…

Hagrid dragged him inside the Leaky Cauldron. He walked next to Hagrid towards the bartender. Harry looked around in disgust at the filth-covered old-smelling place and the people wearing ridiculously outdated clothes.

'This can't even count as a wizarding culture.' Harry almost sneered. 'This is outright ignorance and refusal to develop!'

He contemplated the cultural differences when he saw the pumpkin juice and food on tables covered in dust, spiders crawling around.

'Definitely not gonna eat or drink here.' Harry thought while staring at the rug in disgust.

He was so glad his eyes were healed when he was transmigrated because having glasses in so dimly lit places would surely make looking around a chore.

"Oh, Hagrid! The usual I presume?"

Harry's musings were interrupted as Hagrid and Tom started to talk about him. He amusedly watched as Hagrid introduced Harry and Tom exclaimed his name out loud as if he was paid to do so…

People started to congratulate him and introduce themselves. A crowd quickly amassed near him. Exactly Harry wanted.

He controlled his wandless telekinesis and discreetly parted some gold pouches from their respective owners as everyone was distracted by his 'glorious' scar. The pouches gently floated to the floor. After all, nobody pays attention to their feet when they have a celebrity in front of them! As Harry went through the crowd, the pouches hovering slightly above the ground entered his oversized trousers. There! Heist finished! All in all, he was twenty pouches richer.

Oh, Harry didn't steal them because of gold! He was well aware most of those pouches have anti-theft charms. Anti-theft charms which actually only prevent thieves to get inside and steal the gold, instead of preventing them from stealing the entire pouches themselves. Yay for wizarding stupidity…

Anyway, he had two reasons for stealing them. Nay. Make it three.

Harry wanted to see if somebody detects his wandless magic. If somebody notices it. Nobody did. Not even Tommy-boy under the turban. Harry knew that if Voldemort actually spotted something unusual, Quirrell would react. Small twitch here, widening of eyes there. He would react.

He did not. Not even a twitch. Harry didn't look him straight into the eyes. That would be foolish. But he observed him. A lot.

His second reason is the pouches themselves. Or better yet, the anti-theft enchantments. If he applied them to a room… will the room be accessible only to him?

Harry had many ideas on how to use such a spell, and now, he also had an example he can copy and learn from.

The third reason is that it is hilarious! He stole from adult wizards in a room filled by experienced wizards without them even knowing while being able to use only ONE spell! Well, their gold will be in safe hands.

And if somebody spotted the pouches, being suspiciously hidden in his trousers? What could they do? Nobody would suspect him! He, after all, was a child! A child without a wand, without spells! The sheer thought he, the hero of magical Britain, could steal was hilarious. Especially since he was just eleven!

If he was really caught, Harry had no doubt it would be twisted into an assassination attempt at Harry Potter with pouches of gold.

The British wizarding community was THAT stupid.

Harry and Hagrid moved forward through the crowd when Quirrell suddenly approached them in all of his stuttering glory.

"Harry P-P-Potter. C-C-Can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you." Quirrell started his Spiel.

"Hello, professor, I didn't see you there." Hagrid said and turned to Harry. "Harry, this is professor Quirrell. He will be your Defense in the Dark Arts teacher."

"Oh," Harry exclaimed a little too loudly, attracting attention. "nice to meet you!"

He then offered his hand for a handshake with smugness hidden as young exuberance.

Quirrell though looked horrified of my hand so close to him and tried to pull himself backward, far away from my hand. An awkward silence filled the pub. Harry was satisfied with his performance. Because of his loud exclamation, many wizards saw their encounter and were now frowning at the professor who is in their eyes arrogant enough to not shake hands with their 'national treasure'.

Harry wasn't the shy boy with low esteem though. He held his hand towards Quirrell and waited for his reaction with a slight smirk.

Quirrell swiftly cut his losses and decided to retreat, his expression still holding a deep fright.

"Oh, I am sorry Harry, Hagrid. I still have some work to do!" He told them and fast-tracked it out of the Leaky Cauldron stumbling through the pub.

'Damn, worth it!' Harry thought in satisfaction as he stared at the back of the turban of retreating Quirrell. 'Just you wait.'