Back near the end of the school year, Allen had already heard people from various Hogwarts houses discussing this name.
Because of the Hogwarts Sorting Ceremony, everyone was debating which house would accept the boy who had defeated the Dark Lord, or flipping it around, which house the boy himself would choose.
Although Harry wasn't officially in the magical community, his legend was everywhere.
Still, under Dumbledore's tight control, this wave of talk never really took off. Even the Daily Prophet had deleted special reports about him, citing the excuse of protecting the boy's normal schooling.
At this moment, Allen had no intention of going up to greet him.
The instant Tom recognized Harry, other wizards immediately swarmed around him like fans at a celebrity sighting, and Allen wasn't interested in being part of that crowd.
He didn't look at the boy who had narrowly escaped death with awe or admiration. Instead, he felt pity.
Despite ultimately defeating the Dark Lord, Harry had paid a terrible price, his parents wiped out completely, many close friends lost, and the heavy burden Dumbledore had placed on his shoulders was hardly fit for someone so young.
Maybe all those first eleven years of hardship were deliberately designed to forge his resilience. Without that toughening, the boy destined to save the world might have already collapsed under the weight of repeated blows.
After paying and offering a brief greeting, Allen headed toward the backyard. Let that poor unlucky kid enjoy his happiest day in peace.
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Unfortunately, Allen had underestimated Harry's influence on the entire magical world.
Just as he was carrying the cat and leading Annie off for ice cream before heading to the pet shop, a familiar voice stopped him.
"Hey kid, got something good here. Want some?" The voice came from Tom, the golden-haired, one-handed bookstore owner.
"Annie, watch Butternut," Allen said, setting the cat down and preparing to visit Tom's shop alone. For reasons better left unsaid, it was better not to bring Annie along.
"Kid, want to place a bet?" Tom pulled out a piece of parchment with some simple boxes drawn on it, some kind of betting slip.
"See, it's easy. We're betting on something you're familiar with, a little game about which Hogwarts house the boy who defeated the Dark Lord will end up in."
"Gryffindor pays 1 to 0.5, Slytherin 1 to 0.6, Ravenclaw 1 to 1.3, Hufflepuff 1 to 8?"
Allen read out the odds with a puzzled look. What was Tom trying to say? Did he not know Allen was Hufflepuff?
Without hesitation, Allen bet the maximum, 500 Galleons, on Gryffindor.
After a laugh-filled exchange, Tom started pitching other goods, saying since Allen was here anyway, he might as well check out some useful materials.
Allen was skeptical, he'd seen magical supplies before. They were great, but the prices made you want to smash the store windows.
But when Allen casually asked the price of a rare potion ingredient, Tom's reaction made him widen his eyes, the price was ridiculously cheap, almost like a giveaway.
"What kind of joke is this? Are you nuts? Since when did you sell fake goods? What about your promises?"
Tom smiled at Allen's suspicion and revealed something Allen had no idea about.
"Oh? You didn't know? Over there, " he gestured northeast, "that's where the outbreak happened."
Before Allen could ask more, Tom clammed up, saying more details would compromise trade secrets. If Allen had come a month earlier, maybe they could've worked something out, but now, no.
What kind of upheaval could cause prices to change so dramatically?
Nearly half of the rare magical ingredients had their prices halved, including forbidden materials!
And the price shifts weren't limited to rare supplies, ordinary ingredients had jumped sharply in price, almost like Butternut's weight gain.
Allen overheard several wizard buyers cursing the price changes.
"Dragon liver, seventeen sickles per ounce. They've lost their minds…"
But the curses were useless. The unscrupulous merchants refused to lower prices even a single Knut.
Allen and his friends still bought standard magical potions at decent prices, thankfully.
Still confused, Allen took his cat to the pet store. When he learned the cat could return to normal and adapt to wizard life by taking a special potion, both he and Annie breathed a sigh of relief.
Though the potion was expensive, more than buying a new cat, Allen didn't hesitate to pay.
At the same time, a shop assistant's casual chat finally made Allen understand what was really going on.
"Owls haven't dared fly out of there recently. Terrible war going on, I've taken in nearly twenty injured poor things this month!"
Those words made Allen's heart skip.
War?
Muggle conflicts couldn't cause that many injured owls. The outbreak had to be among the wizarding community, which matched what Tom had said.
What else could so drastically deplete basic resources and force rare ingredients to be sold at rock-bottom prices?
Northeast. War. A massive materials market.
What else was missing?
What year was it again?
Right, 1991.
Allen instinctively turned his gaze northeast.
Damn. What a golden opportunity for fortune, wasted right before him.
Wizard life had made him forget about the great events shaking the Muggle world, the events that shocked the entire planet.
Now he saw those events were still affecting the magical world. But since many wizards didn't even know about the three major magical schools in Europe, information was tightly controlled.
If Allen guessed right, the MACUSA's shortage of manpower was also because of this.
In less than half a year, the storm in the magical world would spill into the Muggle one.
That enormous force, the towering giant, would collapse with a roar that stunned all.
The ripples beneath the surface were just beginning…
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