The Silent Bookstore Manager at Hogwarts

"Huff... Hah... Huff..."

The ten-year-old boy rubbed his hands together and panted heavily in front of the roaring fireplace. He still wore his old, scarred glasses, and the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead was his most conspicuous mark. Perhaps some people elsewhere would be amazed by this scar, but the boy named Harry Potter didn't care about any of that. He just wanted to know why he had been thrown from the dark closet onto the storm-ravaged beach.

"How are you feeling? Any warmer? To be honest, I really think it's a ghost... There's actually someone else who was dumped on that beach like me, even though neither of us were victims of that so-called shipwreck, right?"

Harry looked up and saw a boy, almost the same age as him, push open the door to the room. The boy was in much better condition than Harry; he had even changed into clean clothes and was able to walk around in the room with just a blanket.

"My name is Reed, Reed Maxwell... Of course, before introducing yourself, let's thank Uncle Blacksmith for at least allowing two complete strangers like us into his home on such a stormy night."

Harry Potter glanced with some fear at the tall, taciturn man following behind Red. He had a large beard, and his head was almost bald. The scar that ran across his eyebrow and his solid muscles made it clear that he was not someone to be trifled with.

"Nice to meet you, Deng Qier... Of course, Reid. Although you may have forgotten me, I still remember you... You are one of my few remaining friends. This is your diary; I dried it for you. Perhaps you can find some memories of your past in it?"

Dunchel's voice, like his appearance, was very intimidating, but Harry could sense that he was very friendly, though few people could perceive this due to his voice and appearance.

"Thank you so much...this has been a great help."

Looking at the amber-encrusted diary in front of him, Red smiled with relief. He felt that he had probably won half the battle in life. At least on this wonderful island of Blancoag, he was now in a wheelchair and ready to go wild.

Reid was a transmigrator who was transported to Great Britain and started over as an orphan in an orphanage. Of course, until this inexplicable shipwreck, he was just a poor little boy living in hunger in an orphanage in England.

However, he was already extremely familiar with this island of Blancco before he transmigrated. After all, he was a player with all achievements in the Book of Time, having experienced almost all nine origins and nine diaries. He could even happily declare that he had reached the end of the universe and obtained a job that was practically a guaranteed job.

[Bambe's Diary]: I have been born a second time and am now the librarian of a silent home. This is a diary that records my remaining memories.

Of course, now is not the time to read this book. Red needs to get his hands on something else very important to get to his current goal, and this unexpected surprise: the guy who inexplicably washed up on the beach with him, Harry Potter.

Red had indeed heard of the Harry Potter series in his previous life, but unfortunately, he had never read any of the books. His understanding of the world was limited to a few names and references, such as Dumbledore, Snape, Harry, Professor McGonagall, and Voldemort. He didn't even know what these people looked like or what their personalities were.

But just from the title, he could guess that the boy in front of him was most likely the protagonist of this series, although he didn't know what was so special about the boy...

[Harry Potter]: The child prophesied to become the "Savior," currently suffering from some malnutrition. (Sexual nature: 1 Lamp, 1 Heart)

This child has the potential to become a farmhand.

When Reid learned that his sole responsibility after becoming the manager of the Silent Bookstore was to repair the enormous castle that now belonged to him, he knew that such repairs required helpers. In the game, players needed people with compatible genders to assist him in the repairs. However, whether hiring servants or inviting friends to help, each person could only repair one room at a time.

He complained more than once while playing the game that the text said the people he hired would be employees for a whole day, but after he finished repairing a room, these assistants would disappear, as if they were ripping him off.

"Would you like to come with me?"

Red asked Harry a question. He didn't know what kind of personality this "savior" would have, but it was always good to show kindness.

"Where are you going?" Harry glanced out the window. The dark clouds were dissipating. He didn't know where he was. Although a peer who seemed very familiar with the place had extended an invitation to him, Harry was still a little uneasy.

"Go and fulfill my duties, enjoy my rights, are you going to follow me?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, gritted his teeth, bowed slightly to Dumbledore to express his gratitude, and then followed Red out of the blacksmith shop.

They arrived at the post office, where Harry saw a face as cold as ice that would never melt, even more terrifying than his two guardians at home.

"The librarian..."

Reid cleared his throat, and the director, who resembled a cold goddess from an ancient temple, slowly spoke.

"Yes, I have something for you. Please wait here."

The request seemed to be forced out of his throat; Harry shuddered, and then his gaze was fixed on what the chief was holding—a banknote.

"Ten shillings should be enough here..."

Reid sighed and put the banknote away. If he could, he would like to take it back and use it at the orphanage so that he and his companions could have a few more decent meals in this shitty country.

"Wait, this money..." Harry paused, the ten shillings in Red's hand were completely different from what he had seen before.

"Ah, welcome to January 1936, Mr. Harry Potter... and welcome to Blanccourt as well. Let me give you a heads-up on behalf of the native inhabitants."

Under Harry Potter's blank gaze, they arrived at a bridge shrouded in mist.

"Alright, Mr. Potter... In order to have lunch and to avoid sleeping at the blacksmith's house tonight, let's get to work."

Red's practiced tone left Harry somewhat bewildered. He could only follow Red and begin clearing the fog-shrouded bridge. After all, why was the bridge still shrouded in fog when the sun was high in the sky? Harry Potter had no idea.