Diagon Alley was crowded in the way it always was before a new school year, busy without being chaotic, every shop full, every path occupied by witches and wizards moving between errands.
Victor walked through it at an unhurried pace.
He had changed more than he expected over the summer. The difference was noticeable now. Taller, sharper in build, carrying himself in a way that didn't match his actual age. Anyone looking twice would place him closer to fifteen than thirteen.
He moved past shop windows without stopping, glancing only briefly at what was displayed. Cauldrons stacked in neat rows, robes shifting slightly on their own in the glass, books rearranging themselves in Flourish and Blotts as customers moved in and out.
The smell of food cut through the usual mix of parchment and potion ingredients.
Victor picked up a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and ate them as he walked, not bothering to check the flavors anymore after the third questionable one.
Diagon Alley gradually thinned as he approached the Leaky Cauldron. If his timing was right, Harry should already be there.
The whole incident with Marge Dursley and the accidental inflation wasn't exactly subtle magic, and the Ministry would have moved fast to contain it.
Victor pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The pub was warm, crowded, voices overlapping in the usual low hum. He barely took two steps in when something small and fast shot across the floor straight toward him.
A rat.
Victor reacted without thinking. His foot shifted, intercepting it cleanly and knocking it sideways. The rat slammed lightly against the wall and scrambled away in panic.
A blur of fur followed.
A large, bandy-legged ginger cat launched after it.
Victor looked down.
"Crookshanks."
The cat stopped the moment it heard its name, turning toward him with sharp, intelligent eyes. It padded over instead of continuing the chase, tail flicking once before circling his legs.
Victor crouched slightly and ran a hand over its back.
"So you're here," he said. "That means she is too."
Crookshanks gave a low, satisfied sound, leaning into the touch.
Victor straightened and looked around.
He didn't have to search long.
Near one of the tables, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were already in the middle of an argument.
"That thing tried to eat Scabbers!" Ron snapped, pointing accusingly.
"I can't control what a cat does, Ron," Hermione shot back, clearly annoyed. "It's in their nature!"
"It's not normal!" Ron said. "It keeps going after him like it knows something!"
"It's a cat," Hermione repeated, her patience thinning. "That's what they do!"
Victor walked over, Crookshanks following him without hesitation.
"You're both loud enough to be heard outside," he said calmly.
They both turned.
Hermione's expression shifted immediately.
"Victor? When did you get here?"
"Just now," he replied.
Ron, still irritated, gestured at the cat.
"Tell her to control that thing! It nearly got Scabbers again!"
Victor glanced at Crookshanks, then at Ron.
"It's not wrong," Victor said.
Ron blinked, staring at him.
"What do you mean it's not wrong?!"
Victor didn't raise his voice. He just looked at him, calm as ever.
"Calm down, Ron. It's in their nature," he said, gesturing slightly toward Crookshanks. "How would you feel if someone told you to stop breathing? It's the same thing."
Ron opened his mouth to argue, then stopped, clearly not satisfied but lacking a proper response.
"That's not even the same—" he started, but the frustration didn't land properly this time.
Victor didn't push it further. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out the box of Bertie Bott's beans, and extended it toward Ron.
"Take one," he said.
Ron looked at it suspiciously, still annoyed.
"Why?"
"Because you're already in a bad mood. It can't get worse."
Hermione snorted slightly at that.
Ron narrowed his eyes, then grabbed one anyway, more out of stubbornness than curiosity. He popped it into his mouth without thinking—
—and immediately regretted it.
His face twisted.
"That is disgusting—" he choked, trying not to spit it out.
Victor glanced at him.
"Earwax?"
Ron looked like he was considering his life choices.
"That was not food," Ron said, still trying to get rid of the taste, his face twisted in clear regret.
Hermione barely paid attention to him now. Her focus had shifted.
She was looking at Victor properly.
Something about him had changed over the summer, and it wasn't subtle.
"Did you… do something?" she asked, stepping a little closer and comparing their height without even trying to hide it. "Why are you taller than me now?"
Victor glanced down at her, then back at her face, unimpressed.
"You grew too," he said. "I just grew more."
Hermione frowned slightly, clearly not satisfied with that answer.
"That's not how it usually works," she said. "You don't just suddenly look two years older in one summer."
Ron, still recovering, looked between them.
"He does," Ron muttered. "It's annoying."
Victor ignored him.
His attention shifted briefly back to Hermione, taking in the smaller details now.
She had changed too.
Less roundness in her face, sharper features, and her hair—
He tilted his head slightly.
"I preferred your old hair," he said. "It had more character. Now it just looks… normal."
Hermione blinked, then immediately frowned.
"That's because I actually took care of it this summer," she said, lifting a hand to adjust it slightly. "It's supposed to look like this."
Victor gave a small shrug.
"It looked better before."
Hermione stared at him for a second, clearly deciding whether to be offended or not.
"That's your opinion," she said finally, crossing her arms slightly. "And it's wrong."
*****
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