The shopkeeper had been watching from behind the counter, a quiet man with graying temples and a wand tucked behind one ear like a pencil. He'd seen all types pass through his store—brash first-years, clueless Muggle parents, noble heirs with coin to burn.
But this… was different.
He looked from the boy to the badger. And then back again.
The black-furred creature didn't hiss, growl, or hide. It simply stood there, patient. Calm. As if waiting.
The shopkeeper's eyes narrowed slightly. A soft hum buzzed beneath his thoughts as the old magics in the shop responded to the bond forming between boy and beast. He reached out with a gentle spell—just a whisper of intent—and felt the quiet resonance of something ancient. Something warm.
In his mind, the words formed like a half-forgotten memory.
"Hufflepuff… That boy's gonna be a Hufflepuff."
He said nothing aloud. Just gave a small, knowing smile and nodded toward Hagrid.
"That badger's yours, lad—if he'll have you. Seems he already has."
Hagrid raised a brow as he looked between the shopkeeper and the badger. "Ah, so… is there anything specific about this badger, yeah?"
The shopkeeper nodded slowly, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the counter. "It's… well, it's kind of a magic night light."
There was a pause.
Petunia, who had been doing her best to keep from fussing or fainting in the magical atmosphere, narrowed her eyes—not angry, just very, very confused.
"Explain," she said, stiff as a board.
The shopkeeper gave a short, amused huff. "Right, right. It's not a literal night light, ma'am. What I mean is—this particular badger is a Lumimorph. A rare magical creature that glows in the dark when it senses fear or danger near a bonded child. Emits a soft light, soothing, like a lantern. Protective instinct, you see."
He gestured toward Dudley, who was now crouching in front of the black badger, eyes wide and curious.
"Some say these creatures were bred during the early Hogwarts days—possibly even by Helga Hufflepuff herself—to help children sleep safe. They don't just detect danger—they calm it. Good for kids who've had… troubled nights."
The way he said that, quiet and pointed, made Petunia blink. She glanced at Dudley.
The badger nudged the boy's hand. A faint golden glow pulsed under its black fur—warm, gentle. Like starlight.
"I like him," Dudley whispered.
Hagrid gave a smile. "Then I reckon he's yours."
Hagrid looked down at Dudley with a grin. "So, lad, what're you gonna name him?"
Dudley puffed out his chest with pride, pointing a finger at the badger like he was naming a prized dragon.
"Gohan Jr."
Petunia immediately pinched the bridge of her nose. "Dudley, we are not calling him that."
"Come on, Mum," Dudley groaned. "It fits! He's strong, quiet, and glows like a Super Saiyan!"
"We'll name him later," Petunia said firmly, "properly."
The shopkeeper chuckled behind the counter, his eyes twinkling. "Well, the kid's got spirit. Now, if that's everything, I should let you know—the rest of the creatures in that holding house are already booked."
Vernon blinked. "Booked? Who booked them?"
The shopkeeper gave a vague smile, then tilted his head toward Hagrid. "Important people."
Hagrid's expression shifted ever so slightly—recognition flashing behind his eyes. "Ah. So it's one o' them four. Right, we best be off then."
He patted Dudley's shoulder. "Come on, lad. Let's get you your books next."
As they headed toward the door, the black badger—still glowing faintly gold—hopped into Dudley's arms with a soft huff.
"Gohan Jr.," Dudley whispered again, petting its head. The badger gave no protest.
And behind them, the shopkeeper murmured to himself with a shake of his head, "Hufflepuff, for sure."
The shopkeeper unfurled a long scroll, the parchment glowing faintly with ink that shifted color with the light. He scanned the names, sighing with a weariness that hinted at past chaos.
"Tomorrow's Ravenclaw," he muttered. "Today's Slytherin. Let's just hope this doesn't turn into another disaster like last time."
Not a moment later, the front door swung open with a soft chime. In strode a small procession: sharp-eyed children in robes of deep emerald and silver, followed by their guardians—graceful elves in formal attire, and proud house-elves with crests stitched across their garments. It was unmistakably a Slytherin delegation.
[Hedwig's POV]
I sat on my perch, surrounded by my siblings—each of us bred for a singular, noble purpose.
To serve the heirs of the Four Great Clans: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw.
It was a legacy. A sacred duty.
Some of us had already been chosen—drawn to hearts filled with bravery, wit, loyalty, or cunning.
Not I.
No human had ever interested me. No soul had felt... worthy.
I waited. Patiently. Quietly. Until today.
The bell above the door rang, and my eyes flicked toward the entrance. In came a flood of children—poised, regal, confident. Heirs and companions of Clan Slytherin, draped in ambition.
I flapped my wings and withdrew into the shadows. Nothing new.
But then—
We all felt it.
A ripple in the air.
Dark. Heavy. Ancient.
I watched as my siblings stilled. The cats hissed and arched their backs. The toads leapt from their bowls in alarm.
Even the snakes—especially the snakes—coiled back into their tanks, scales trembling.
Something had entered.
Someone.
Then I saw him.
The boy.
He walked through the shop like a shadow made flesh. His form was wreathed in smoke—writhing, sentient, laced with whispers only creatures like us could hear. One of his arms glowed a hellish red, pulsing with demonic energy. His hair was wild, windswept, half-shadow. His eyes—those eyes—burned green like cursed emeralds, twin lanterns of wrath and sorrow.
And yet—
He did not reek of evil.
He reeked of power. Raw. Unrestrained. Something so ancient it felt new.
My siblings cowered. The others retreated.
But I did not move.
I stepped forward.
He looked at me. Saw me. Not as a pet—but as an equal.
Beside him stood a man with pale green eyes and a knowing smirk.
"Well, Harry… looks like she's chosen you."
For a moment—just a heartbeat—the smoke peeled away from the boy. I saw him.
His true form.
His face was younger than I expected, but the weight he carried… that was centuries old.
He was... not just a boy.
He was something born of both light and shadow.
I beat my wings once.
I choose him.
[Back to normal POV]
Harry looked at the snowy white owl now perched on his arm, her talons gentle but firm. She tilted her head and let out a soft, satisfied hoot.
"It seems she likes me, Tristan."
Tristan smirked. "Already, huh? Well, can't say I'm surprised. You're not exactly… forgettable."
Theo, standing nearby, eyed the owl with a raised brow. "That's Hedwig, isn't it?" he asked the shopkeeper.
The man nodded solemnly. "Aye. No one's ever been able to get close to her. She's always kept her distance. Until now."
Harry reached up, brushing his fingers lightly against Hedwig's chest feathers. She leaned into the touch with something close to affection.
Harry looked at the snow-white owl perched before him. Her feathers shimmered faintly in the shop's soft, magical glow, her amber eyes locked onto his with curious intelligence.
"…Hedwig," Harry murmured, voice soft. "Like the saint… the protector of orphans."
He gave a quiet chuckle, but there was something sincere beneath it. "Fitting, yeah?"
Tristan raised an eyebrow, glancing between Harry and the owl. "You are keeping the name?"
Harry shrugged. "Might as well. She picked me."
The owl gave a slow blink, then tilted her head, as if approving of the name. Her presence was calm but alert, completely unafraid despite what the others had sensed.
Theo, who had been flipping through a list of supplies on a magically floating notepad, looked up. "Already? Most of us get dragged around the whole shop by our familiars before they settle on anything. Took my cousin three hours and a blood pact with a gremlin."
Tristan smirked. "That was hilarious. Still think the gremlin won that deal."
The boys chuckled lightly, but their gazes shifted back to Harry and the owl—no, his owl now. She had already hopped from the perch and landed gently on Harry's arm, unbothered by the strange aura he carried.
One of the house elves nearby muttered in a nervous tone, "She's brave, that one. Chose the smoky boy."
From the shadows, one of the older Slytherin guardians narrowed her eyes slightly. "Not just brave. She saw something."
"Yeah," another whispered. "And still chose him."
The magical creatures in the store remained quiet now, though many still kept their distance from Harry. Only Hedwig remained close, nestling gently against his arm as if to say this one is mine.
Theo looked thoughtful. "It's not just the smoke, is it?"
Tristan shook his head. "No. It's deeper than that." He stared at Harry, as if trying to read something in the green glow still faintly pulsing behind his friend's eyes. "It's like she saw through it."
Harry looked down at Hedwig, then gently reached up and scratched just under her chin. She leaned into it, letting out the softest hoot.
"She's perfect," he whispered.
The entire snake section of the shop was deathly silent.
And not because of reverence.
Every snake—massive vipers, sleek asps, gleaming black mambas, even a baby basilisk in a reinforced enchanted tank—was actively avoiding eye contact with Draco Malfoy.
Some slithered behind rocks. Others coiled tightly in their enclosures with their eyes closed. One particularly fat boa constrictor faked being asleep with exaggerated snoring.
Draco looked absolutely devastated.
His shoulders slumped. His silver eyes were glassy, lips trembling just enough to look like a kicked Kneazle.
"Why don't they like me?" he whispered, voice cracking. "I even shaved today…"
You could one of the other clan kids say. "Your 11?"
Standing beside him was Narcissa Malfoy, dressed in elegant, enchanted robes stitched with silver leaf and enchanted thread that shimmered like moonlight. Her platinum-blond hair was swept up in a perfect twist, and her gaze was cool, calculated—and yet, tender when it landed on her son.
She sighed, her beauty dignified even in exasperation.
"Oh, my poor little dragon…" she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "It's not your fault. They're dramatic animals. Just like your father's side of the family."
Draco sniffled. "But I'm a Malfoy. I practiced hissing. I brushed my teeth and everything."
Narcissa waved her wand, and a silver feathered handkerchief floated up to dab at his cheek before he could cry.
"There, there. We'll find you something better," she said, voice low and comforting. "Snakes are overrated. You want a creature that respects your cleanliness."
She turned toward the shop assistant with a graceful nod. "Show us the premium winged familiars section. And I want options with manicured claws, thank you."
Draco's eyes lit up just slightly. "With matching accessories?"
"Of course, darling." Narcissa smiled faintly, holding her son's hand as they walked away from the sulking snakes. "You deserve nothing less."
Back in the snake area, one of the older cobras whispered to another:
"That boy's energy was too much."
"Entitlement levels over 9000."
Harry, watching from the other side of the shop, tilted his head slightly as he observed Draco and Narcissa retreat toward the boutique pet section.
He looked at Hedwig, then back at the snake tanks still avoiding the memory of Draco's presence.
"…Is it bad that I think that's… sad?" he asked aloud, more to himself than anyone else.
Millicent Bulstrode, who had just coaxed a large, flat-faced Battle Toad into her basket (it croaked like a baritone war horn), glanced up at Harry.
She shrugged. "Nope."
She adjusted the frog's straps. "You haven't known him like we did. Most of us have seen him since nappies. He's the most…" She paused, frowning. "Well… there's not really a word for it."
Her frog belched.
"…Whatever 'most' applies to eleven-year-olds? He's that. All of it." Millicent made a vague explosive gesture. "Like if you distilled rich brat, magical legacy, insecure only child, and pastel drama queen into a single potion and then shook it too hard."
Harry blinked. "Huh."
Millicent crossed her arms. "He once hexed a kid for saying his shoes looked 'too green.' Then cried when his wand jammed and blamed the humidity."
Harry slowly turned his head toward Hedwig.
"…Yeah. Okay. That tracks."
Hedwig fluffed her feathers, a silent "You have no idea what drama's coming."
Millicent glanced toward the Slytherin group. "Still. Not evil. Just… a walking ego wrapped in hand-pressed velvet and mummy issues."
Harry actually chuckled, which made Hedwig around him raise a metaphorical eyebrow.
"Welcome to the noble Clan of Slytherin," Millicent muttered with a smirk. "Where our mascots are snakes, our alliances are complex, and our classmates come in varying shades of emotionally undercooked soufflés."
Harry glanced over toward Theo Nott, who stood with a calm but tired posture, a stark contrast to the older teen next to him—clearly his older brother, though he looked like he belonged more in a forgotten Victorian novel than a Diagon Alley pet shop.
Harry approached, eyes flickering to the strange bundle in Theo's hands.
"Theo, what did you get?" he asked.
Theo shrugged like it was a daily occurrence to be handed something mysterious and potentially dangerous. He unwrapped the velvet cloth just enough to show a black, matte egg, pulsing faintly with a shimmer beneath the surface. It looked neither stone nor shell, but somewhere in between.
"Not sure myself," Theo replied simply, as if this were standard.
Thaddeus Nott, taller, sharper-featured, and dressed in a faded frock coat that smelled faintly of herbs and dried ink, added dryly, "The seller called it a 'Curse-Touched Egg of the Hollow Moors.' Said it hadn't hatched in two decades, might be sentient, possibly venomous, and may or may not whisper secrets when no one's listening."
[Yes, I am giving more details then last ch to him, and yes, someone fine an image please]
Harry blinked.
Theo nodded. "So, naturally, we bought it."
"Of course you did," Harry said, genuinely unsure if this was sarcasm or just… Slytherin logic.
Thaddeus smiled faintly, his hands behind his back like a museum curator. "We had one in the family once. Hatched into a three-legged crow that screamed prophecies, mostly about taxes and sea monsters."
Harry's face contorted between confusion and morbid curiosity. "That… sounds weirdly specific."
Theo just sighed. "It's better than getting a ferret."
"Oi, what's wrong with ferrets?" shouted someone in the distance—probably Blaise, holding a smug, shiny-furred one that looked like it ate galleons for breakfast.
The egg pulsed again in Theo's hands.
"...It's warm now," he noted calmly.
"Is that a good thing or a 'run-for-your-life' thing?" Harry asked.
Thaddeus hummed. "Well, we'll find out. Eventually."
Blaise walked in with his shiny-furred at his side, his mum beside him.
Just like her son, she wore the pin of House Naga. Her skin was as dark as Blaise's, but instead of black hair, hers was a striking yellow. And unlike most witches of noble birth, nothing about her clothing looked traditional or formal.
If Harry had to guess, she looked more like a Muggle New Yorker than someone from an old magical family.
Harry glanced down at Blaise's shiny-furred. "He's nice, Zabini."
Blaise smirked. "Why, thank you, Lord Potter."
Harry let out a sigh. "I know we're not exactly on good terms, but… maybe just call me by my middle name?"
Blaise tilted his head. "Very well then, Lord James."
"Also, drop the 'Lord' part."
"Can't," Blaise replied, still smirking. "Slytherin clan rule—you're Head of House Hydra. I'm a member of House Naga. Titles matter."
Blaise glanced between the three of them, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "So, I got a shiny ferret, you got an owl with eyes too smart for its own feathers… and Theo's walking around with a mystery egg. Rather fitting, don't you think? Especially for the second heir of House Apophis."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Fitting how?"
Blaise shrugged, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Owls are wisdom. Ferrets are cunning. Eggs are… potential. Hidden things. Secrets waiting to hatch. Doesn't that sound like House Apophis to you?"
Theo, holding the black-shelled egg carefully in his hands, muttered, "I'd settle for something that doesn't explode."
Harry chuckled. "That makes two of us."
Blaise added with a chuckle of his own, "Well, if it does explode, at least make sure it happens in Potions class. Snape could use the excitement."
Theo rolled his eyes. "Funny. Really."
Just then, Theo's egg gave a soft, pulsing twitch. The three of them froze.
"…Did that thing just move?" Harry asked.
Theo stared down at it. "It's been warm since I got it. But that's the first time it's done… that."
Blaise leaned in with a predator's curiosity. "Maybe it's not a creature. Maybe it's cursed."
Harry crossed his arms. "Now that would be very Apophis."
Theo gave them both a flat look. "You two are not helping."
To be continued
Hope people like this ch and give me power stones and enjoy