The smell of a warm breakfast began to fill the pub. Sophie set down a nice plate of ham and eggs on the table.
Zack and Sophie chatted while picking at the eggs and ham with satisfaction. Though he was already mentally preparing his exit back upstairs after the meal, he noticed a shadow crossing Sophie's face, and her eyes tracking him with quiet concern.
He paused. Knowing what was coming.
"Zack, are you really adjusting to life around here?" She sighed. "You only come down once a day, and you spend most of your time locked away upstairs. That worries me a bit."
"I'm adjusting fine," he said carefully. "I like staying in my room. I've mostly just been reading through your bookshelf."
The words landed poorly. Her eyes immediately softened into that particular look adults wore when they thought a child was being neglected, no matter how unintentional the neglect might be.
"You know, dear, if you're ever bored or alone, don't hesitate to talk to me." Her words were gentle but pointed.
Reading and practising had become enjoyable over the past few days, but he couldn't deny the simple fact that he'd been fundamentally alone through it all.
He decided to adjust tactics.
"Actually, I wanted to ask if I could get some new books. I've finished reading everything in my room, and I'm starting to feel a bit bored." He arranged his face into an expression of hopeful expectation.
Sophie's mouth formed a small "O" of realisation, followed by an affirmative nod.
"Of course, dear. I'm visiting some shops today to pick up supplies." She leaned forward with genuine enthusiasm. "If you don't mind, I'll introduce you to some friends of mine. Would you like to tag along?"
Tag along?
Zack's internal response was somewhere between shocked and overjoyed. He'd been itching to explore beyond the pub's walls for days, but Sophie had been adamant about keeping him inside since the attack. The fact that she'd suddenly volunteered to take him out felt like the universe had finally decided to cooperate.
He agreed immediately, perhaps a bit too eagerly.
Sophie told him to change into something presentable. Thankfully, at least the outfit she provided this time was not as absurd as last time.
A pair of navy blue shorts that reached his knees, and a clean white shirt. Nothing remarkable.
Once dressed, Sophie gestured with her wand, and the pub folded itself neatly into evening mode. Lights dimmed, chairs shuffled toward tables, and windows locked tight. Then they stepped outside into the fresh morning air with the sun hanging bright and clear in an unmarred azure sky.
Sophie took his hand and led him to one of the surrounding walls. A tap of her wand against the corner caused the bricks to begin shifting, rearranging themselves into a neat archway.
They stepped through and entered a veiled portal that spat them out to the other side.
This is exactly like the first film.
Zack's eyes widened as he saw the magical market unfold in front of him. He couldn't help but draw parallels to Diagon Alley. Though it was nothing like the cramped, crowded alley he'd seen in the movies.
Sophie chuckled at his awed look and guided him through walls that slid aside to reveal winding roads that stretched even deeper into the marketplace.
What Zack had initially mistaken for the entire shopping district was apparently just the rougher periphery. The true heart of the place was something else entirely: a sophisticated village, almost elegant in its design, with families strolling between well-maintained shops and storefronts.
Furthermore, Sophie was apparently something of a celebrity in these parts.
People greeted her constantly, and conversations bloomed wherever she paused. Zack found himself the object of considerable attention as well. It was the usual litany of cooing and cheek-pinching that came with being an eight-year-old in public spaces.
He didn't enjoy it, especially not when people seemed to find his frowns amusing rather than discouraging. Still, chocolate and candy materialised in his pockets with surprising regularity, so the trade-off was at least marginally acceptable.
Being a child is exhausting.
After several hours of introductions and social navigation, they finally began the actual shopping.
First, there was Agatha, who ran a clothing store and turned out to be an old acquaintance of Sophie's. Zack had his measurements taken while the two women gossiped in the efficient way of people who hadn't seen each other in months.
Then came Eugene, a potion master with an attached garden who supplied Sophie with various ingredients she'd apparently depleted.
The wand and pet shops came and went without Zack being allowed inside either. According to Sophie, he was too young for a wand, too irresponsible for a pet.
Eventually, they arrived at a small shop distinguished by a gold engraving above its door.
Earls' Athenaeum
Sophie pushed the door open, and Zack stepped into something that defied the laws of reasonable architecture.
The interior was vast, genuinely spacious, lined with towering shelves that seemed to stretch impossibly backwards. Books of every imaginable size, colour, and shape crowded the shelves.
Is that spatial expansion magic?
He'd seen it mentioned in the films, but experiencing it firsthand produced an entirely different sensation. The whole place felt larger from the inside out, like stepping into a pocket dimension.
What struck him equally was the absence of people. The shop felt abandoned, as though no human had set foot here in years.
Sophie crossed to the counter and rang a small golden bell with increasing insistence. Nothing happened. She frowned, withdrew her wand, and called out clearly:
"Homenum Revelio."
"Come out, Earl, I know you're there."
Silence stretched. Sophie's frown deepened into something actively threatening.
"I swear if you don't come out right now, I will tear all your books to shreds."
The threat apparently worked. A grey mist descended from somewhere above, and an elderly man emerged from the bookshelves, frantically checking for damage to his collection.
"Dear God, Sophie, you scared me. I was coming, really, I was just taking a short nap, I would have been down in a minute—" He stopped mid-sentence as his gaze landed on Zack.
His eyes shifted between Sophie and Zack repeatedly, like he was trying to solve an equation that kept changing variables.
"Sophie, I didn't know you'd had a boy. How long have I been asleep? It must have been years if—you should have woken me, really, this is quite unexpected." He began muttering to himself, cataloguing his own confusion with the precision of someone genuinely bewildered.
"Calm down, Earl. It's only been a few months since we last visited." Sophie's voice carried practised patience. "I came here because my son wanted some new books."
"A f-few months?" Earl stared harder at Zack. "How would you possibly explain—"
"Let's not worry about the facts." Sophie cleared her throat and politely raised her hand, signalling Earl to drop the matter.
Earl coughed uneasily, but ultimately accepted the explanation without further protest. His attention shifted entirely to Zack.
"Well then, young man. What books were you after?"
Zack hummed, contemplating his answer. But as his thoughts raced, a strange itch scratched at his subconscious. He couldn't help but try to read Earl and explore the emotional landscape beneath the groggy old man.
Their eyes met, and Zack caught the colours of Earl's mind. First, there was curiosity bright as a flame, some happiness, a lot of surprise, and of course, the restless energy of someone who lived for his books. The man was clearly a true collector.
But then there was something else: a deliberate wall, smooth and impenetrable. Earl was shielding himself.
The old man's expression shifted into something wry and knowing. His smile suggested that he'd noticed Zack's probing.
"Oh boy. You're a sharp one, young lad. But I don't believe you've introduced yourself."
He's good.
"My name is Zack," He said, extending his hand for a firm handshake. "And you are?"
"Earl Finnigan Matthews, a pleasure entirely." He gave a solid handshake and returned to wiping the counter with practised motions. "So, Zack, what brings you to my humble shop? Stories, perhaps? I have some exceptionally entertaining selections. Or perhaps magical creatures interest you? I'm not one to brag, but I do maintain every single edition of Newt Scamander's Fantastic Beasts collection."
Sophie stepped back, apparently content to let the two of them conduct business alone.
"I'm interested in magic more broadly," Zack answered. "Do you have a book on beginner spells? I've been reading about magical theory, but I can't find anything that actually details spell-casting mechanics or descriptions of how to perform them."
Earl's eyes lit up. He disappeared into the back of the shelves and returned a moment later with a leather-bound volume clutched in his hands.
"May I present Adamous Grey's Basic Spell Repertoire, First Edition 1926. The first edition is superior to later printings, with a significantly larger spell collection, though I must warn you: some of them can be rather dangerous to study." He handed it over carefully.
Zack traced the cover with his fingertips and flipped through the pages. The content was exactly what he'd been searching for. It was comprehensive, well-organised, and filled with spell descriptions and theoretical frameworks.
As he flipped through the book, a single glance told him that Earl clearly hadn't connected the dots that Zack intended to actually practice from this material rather than merely read about it.
"Do you have anything on magical tools?" Zack pressed his advantage. "Wands, artefacts, that sort of thing?"
"Hmm, you hold some peculiar interests for a young reader, but I happen to have the perfect volume." Earl raised his wand and gestured toward several books, which flew from the shelves, orbiting until he settled on one and returned the others to their places with elegant precision.
"This one is advanced for your age, I'll admit, but it's quite thorough. Thomas Ernstein's Magical Applications and Derivations. Runes, enchantments, the whole spectrum."
The book he produced was beautifully bound in custom leather, detailed with intricate etchings across its cover. Zack opened it to find extensive, vivid prose. Clearly, the work of someone who'd spent considerable time perfecting their craft.
Satisfied, he looked toward Sophie, who approached the counter and began reaching for her purse.
"How much do I owe you, Earl?"
"Oh, nonsense, dear. I couldn't possibly charge you on the boy's first visit. Since he clearly loves reading, consider it a gift from me. Besides, I'm practically his uncle by default at this point."
Zack thanked the man and the two left the store. By afternoon, Zack had retreated to his room and begun his actual work.
For the first hour, he simply experimented with the books themselves, replicating the hand motions Earl had used to animate multiple volumes.
It proved far more difficult than he'd anticipated. The books were heavy, and maintaining several in the air simultaneously required genuine concentration. But gradually, the coordination improved. He made them glide, juggle, orbit each other in increasingly complex patterns.
His magic burned steadily through his reserves as the afternoon progressed.
When exhaustion finally forced him to stop, he carefully stacked everything back into place and allowed sleep to claim him.