Library

The next morning, Harry Potter awoke early, his mind still grappling with the extraordinary events of the previous night. The house, now shared only with his Aunt Petunia, felt eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the tumultuous scenes that had unfolded. With Nigel, his dry-humored AI companion, ever-present in his thoughts, Harry quietly made his way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

"Master Harry," Nigel's voice resonated in his mind, "it seems we find ourselves in quite the altered domestic landscape. A touch of culinary excellence might be just the thing to ease the tension, don't you think?"

Harry, though still adjusting to his new living situation, couldn't help but agree. The kitchen, once a battleground of chores and reprimands, now held a different meaning. It was here that he could put his newfound magical skills to use, subtly enhancing his tasks and perhaps even easing the strained atmosphere.

As he carefully prepared the breakfast, Harry was mindful of every sound, every movement. Aunt Petunia, still asleep in her room, seemed a world away from the stern figure she usually presented. It was a delicate balance, ensuring the meal was perfect, a task made easier with Nigel's guidance.

After ensuring the breakfast was perfectly prepared, Harry tiptoed to Aunt Petunia's room, his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and hope. Gently, he knocked on the door and called out softly, "Aunt Petunia, breakfast is ready." There was a brief silence before she emerged, her eyes swollen from crying, offering no acknowledgment as she passed him and headed straight to the bathroom.

Relieved at the absence of reprimands, Harry made his way back to the kitchen, resigned to his usual routine of eating alone at the counter. The Dursley household had never offered him a place at the family table, relegating him to the sidelines, both literally and metaphorically.

However, as he was about to grab a leftover piece of toast, he heard Aunt Petunia's voice, surprisingly softer than usual. "Boy, come and sit." Harry's steps were hesitant, fear and suspicion clouding his judgment. He gingerly perched on the edge of a chair, ready to bolt at the first sign of a trap.

Petunia, observing his cautious demeanor, let out a derisive snort. "It is pitiful to eat alone. Sit with me." Her tone, while not warm, lacked the usual sharpness. Harry, still wary, nodded and slowly began to fill his plate, his movements cautious and measured.

Nigel's voice echoed in Harry's mind. "Well, Master Harry, it appears the tides of the Dursley household are changing. Breakfast with Aunt Petunia – who would have thought? Perhaps this is the beginning of a new culinary alliance."

Harry, despite the oddness of the situation, couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of a more bearable existence in the Dursley home. As he took cautious bites of his breakfast, he kept one eye on Aunt Petunia, still trying to decipher this unexpected turn of events.

Yet, the expected criticism or harsh word from Aunt Petunia never arrived. She ate her breakfast in silence, a contemplative expression on her face. After finishing, she retreated to the couch, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Seizing the opportunity, Harry quietly brewed her favorite tea and began the clean-up process, his mind racing with possibilities.

As he moved around the kitchen, tidying up with more care than usual, Harry couldn't suppress the budding hope within him. Forming even a tentative relationship with his aunt could mean a world of change for him. It could mean more freedom, a chance to step outside the confines of Privet Drive, and, most importantly, the opportunity to delve deeper into the magical world.

"Nigel," Harry whispered as he arranged the tea tray, "do you think this could be it? Could this be my chance to go to Diagon Alley, to get real magical books?"

Nigel's voice, tinged with its usual blend of sarcasm and insight, echoed in his mind. "Master Harry, your culinary diplomacy seems to be paying off. Who knew that a well-cooked breakfast could pave the way to Diagon Alley? But remember, the road to independence is paved with more than just scrambled eggs and tea."

Harry smiled, appreciating Nigel's humor even in a moment of uncertainty. He carefully carried the tea to where Aunt Petunia sat, her posture less rigid than usual. Placing the tray down, he offered a tentative, "Here's your tea, Aunt Petunia."

Petunia, her gaze fixed on some distant point, simply nodded without looking at him. Harry stood there for a moment, awkward and unsure, before returning to the kitchen.

As he washed the dishes, his thoughts turned to Diagon Alley, the magical marketplace he had heard so much about. He imagined the rows of shops, the stacks of books on magic, the tools and artifacts that could open up new worlds of learning for him. The mere thought of it filled him with an eagerness he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Master Harry," Nigel chimed in, bringing him back to reality, "remember, one step at a time. Today's breakfast is just the first course in what promises to be a very interesting banquet of opportunities. Patience and strategy will serve you better than haste and recklessness."

Harry nodded, absorbing Nigel's advice. He knew the AI was right. Each small victory, each step forward in his relationship with Aunt Petunia, brought him closer to that magical world he longed to explore.

After finishing the cleanup, Harry decided to take his attempts at household diplomacy a step further. He climbed the stairs, each creaking step a reminder of the unfamiliar territory he was venturing into. In the bathroom, he began to prepare a bath for Aunt Petunia, infusing the warm water with scents of lavender, jasmine, and a hint of rosemary. He placed candles strategically around the room, selected a soothing classical music tape to play softly in the background, and laid out a fluffy towel along with one of Aunt Petunia's favorite novels by the tub.

As he made these preparations, Nigel's voice rang in his mind, "Master Harry, who knew you had the makings of a spa manager in you? Aromatic scents, mood music, literature - the full package. Just be cautious not to overdo it, or she might suspect you're up to something."

Harry chuckled under his breath, appreciating Nigel's blend of sarcasm and practicality. "It's just a bath, Nigel. I'm trying to make peace, not start a spa business."

With the bath ready, Harry descended the stairs to inform his aunt. He found her still sitting on the couch, her expression distant. "Aunt Petunia," he said cautiously, "I've prepared a bath for you. I thought you might like to relax."

Aunt Petunia's eyes flickered with surprise, her suspicion evident. "Why would you do that?" she asked, her tone softer than usual but still tinged with wariness.

"Just thought it might be nice," Harry replied, trying to sound casual. "You seem... tired."

She regarded him for a moment longer before nodding slightly and rising to head upstairs. Harry watched her go, a mix of relief and anxiety swirling within him.

He waited until he heard the bathroom door close before turning to Nigel. "Now's my chance to ask her about going out. I want to visit library."

"Ah, Master Harry, the plot thickens," Nigel responded with his customary dry wit. "A strategic bath leading to a tactical request. Remember, subtlety is your ally. Frame your request in a way that benefits her, not just you."

Taking a deep breath, Harry rehearsed his words, then made his way upstairs. He knocked softly on the bathroom door. "Aunt Petunia? While you're relaxing, may I go out for a bit? I thought I could pick up a few things for the house."

There was a moment of silence before Aunt Petunia's voice, slightly muffled, responded, "Fine, but don't dawdle."

Harry's heart leaped with a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia. I'll be back soon."

Elated, Harry rushed to his room to gather his bag and quickly dashed out of the house. His mind was set on making the most of his newly granted freedom. The sooner he could reach the library, the more books he could scan and absorb into the Technology System. As he hurried along, another quest flared in his mind, the words appearing as if on an invisible screen before him:

Quest: Library Marathon

Objective: Visit the local library and scan as many books as possible. Each book scanned will enhance your knowledge and add points to your Technology System.

Target: Scan at least 50 books.

Time Limit: Return home before Aunt Petunia notices your absence.

Reward: 5 points per 10 book, with a bonus of 100 points if the target is met.

Bonus Objective: Find books on basic magical theory or history for additional points.

Reading the quest details, Harry grinned, his steps quickening. Nigel's voice echoed in his mind, dripping with its usual dry humor, "Ah, Master Harry, embarking on a literary sprint, are we? Remember, quality over quantity. And try not to look too suspicious with your nose in the books. We wouldn't want to arouse any muggle librarians' curiosity."