Early the next morning, Harry got ready and went to Number Thirteen, Privet Drive.
Normally, the first floor of Moonlight Fortress would be empty at this time. Uncle Howl would either still be sleeping or doing magic research in the basement.
He would stand outside the door and knock gently, and then Mr. Lucifer, who controlled the entire Castle, would open the door for him.
However, today, as soon as Harry stepped into the flower garden, he heard some passionate melodies.
The door slowly opened, and immediately, the music grew louder. Harry instantly recognized it as the sound of a very popular British band.
Vernon didn't like music. Whenever a music program aired on TV, he would always change the channel with an irritated look.
He would always grumble things like, "So noisy, a bunch of ear polluters."... Then, Harry saw Uncle Howl busy in the kitchen.
Hearing the door open, Howl turned his head to look at the door. Seeing it was Harry, he nodded at him, then turned back to focus on cooking.
"Uncle Howl?!" Harry greeted him, a little surprised.
"Hm." Howl responded indifferently.
A low music played in Harry's ears. It came from the gramophone he had repaired when he was practicing magic spells earlier.
"Mama, just killed a man... Mama, life had just begun..." Listening to the song, Harry felt that everything before him was very strange, but... he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Then, he looked at Lucifer and asked, "Mr. Lucifer, what happened?"
Lucifer, however, seemed very normal at this moment, still responding to Harry lazily: "Him? He got lost!"
"Lost?" Harry was a bit confused.
"Hm." Lucifer didn't want to say more and sank back into the fire.
At this moment, Howl also brought out two breakfasts. After Harry sat down, he said, "From now on, go up to the second floor and find a room to use as your study."
"Really?" Harry looked up sharply.
"Hm." Howl nodded. Harry had been studying at this large stone table on the first floor all this time, which was indeed a bit shabby.
There were plenty of empty rooms in the Castle, where sailors used to stay.
The reason Harry hadn't been given a study before was... laziness.
After breakfast, Howl went to the basement. While Harry was cleaning, he brought out many books from down there.
"These are...?" Harry looked at the books somewhat nervously.
"These are the books you need to read this year." Howl nodded calmly.
Howl looked at the expression on Harry's face, then turned to look at the stack of books, which was about as tall as Harry, and wondered, "One book a month, isn't that too much?"
Harry nodded stiffly, "It should... be fine."
Evidently, he wasn't even sure himself.
Howl looked at the expression on Harry's face, feeling a little like laughing. Then he turned and led the way upstairs, with Harry following closely behind.
On the second floor, Howl led Harry to a room of about twenty to thirty square meters with a balcony. The room was a bit messy, but there was no trash.
With a wave of Howl's hand, a large amount of clutter surged towards the left wall. At the same time, the wall cracked open, and in the blink of an eye, all the clutter was cleared into the adjacent room.
Only a desk, a chair, and a bookcase were left behind.
"If you want to add anything, you can search in other rooms," Howl said, pushing his hand slightly forward, and all the books flew onto the bookshelf.
"You've been cleaning for so long, I think you know better than I do what usable things are in the clutter piles."
Harry nodded repeatedly, his eyes shining.
He couldn't help but walk forward, looking around the room.
This was his room!
Although he had already been "granted" a room by the Dursleys a while ago, it was really too small and also served as Dudley's junk room.
It was the room where Dudley kept a pile of broken toys... "Oh, right." Howl suddenly remembered something and called out to Harry.
Harry turned around and saw Howl's left hand resting on his right wrist.
The first time Harry saw Howl, his sleeves were rolled up at the time, and that's when Harry learned that Uncle Howl's arm had many rune arrays.
Since then, Harry had seen Howl store and retrieve many items through his sleeve from that hand.
Howl slowly withdrew his hand, and an ancient ring appeared in his hand as if by Magic.
"A birthday present for you." Howl said, tossing the ring to Harry.
Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he fumbled to catch the ring.
Upon closer inspection, it was an ancient, somewhat oxidized ring, its material largely matching the description of pewter in books.
The ring was not as large as the rings on Uncle Howl's hand, nor did it have too much other ornamentation, only some arcane runes that could only be discovered upon close inspection.
"This is an amplifier I phased out a long time ago." Howl said, "It has an amplification effect of about 135% for most Magic spells. However, if it's used to cast Dark Arts, it only has an 80% effect."
Howl caressed the ring on his own hand, then suddenly changed the subject: "Harry, what are the advantages of a ring as a casting device?"
Harry was still playing with the ring; he hadn't expected that he would one day get a casting device.
He put the ring on his right middle finger, and the ring automatically contracted, clasping his finger tightly.
He was happy, but then Uncle Howl suddenly asked a question. He jolted, immediately began brainstorming, and after a moment replied:
"The advantages of ring-type casting devices are their concealment, protection against disarming, and that we can cast spells with them at any time.
Furthermore, ring-type devices basically require no coordination between the person and the casting device, because it's worn on our finger!"
Howl nodded, quite satisfied with the answer, and turned around: "Go tidy up the room. You can do whatever you want with it, clean it exactly as you envision it. I'll give you one day..."
"Yes!" Harry said happily, "Thank you, Uncle Howl."
...Time passed quickly. Today, the Dursleys had turned on their lights early, before the sun had even risen. Even Dudley had voluntarily climbed out of his bed.
Harry sighed slightly, looking through the window at Number Thirteen, Privet Drive, diagonally across the street.
For no other reason than that today was the first day of school.
He had to go to school.
Thump, thump, thump, thump—
Violent knocking on the door sounded, and Vernon angrily roared from outside, "Get up, you brat! Are you going to make everyone wait for you?!"
"I'm already up!" Harry said to the door, then quickly started getting dressed.
His school uniform was Dudley's old one. After Dudley fell and accidentally tore the crotch, the uniform was given to Harry.
After tearing the clothes, Dudley even knew that this outfit would end up with Harry, so he deliberately wore the clothes and ran into a mud puddle to roll around, and he and his friends used watercolors to draw all over the clothes, and even stuck snot on them... "Cleaned anew!"
Thinking of this, Harry helplessly cast a Magic spell on the school uniform again.
His movements were incredibly skilled.
Only then did he put on the clothes. Going downstairs, he was met, as expected, with disgusted urging.
But there was no cursing.
This was the change Uncle Howl had brought to this family.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Harry looked at the clothes he was wearing. This holiday, thanks to Uncle Howl, Harry had grown quite a bit stronger, barely able to fill out the uniform.
He adjusted his collar, looking at himself in the mirror, and suddenly felt that something was missing.
His hand unconsciously reached for the comb. Then, he combed up his long, messy hair on his forehead.
The incredibly conspicuous scar was thus revealed.
Through this scar, Harry seemed to see the attitudes of the people at school and the words they would say.
For a child to have an ugly scar on his forehead was not a good thing to begin with.
Especially when this child was also a target of bullying.
This was also why Harry's hair, even if cut short the day before, would return to being long and messy the next day.
Because deep down, he was afraid to reveal this scar; he needed long hair to cover it!
Because this scar would make him the subject of discussion, and even ridicule, among his classmates.
Harry took a deep breath, no longer hesitated, and combed his hair up.