Chapter 2: Magic, Money and Mischief

If there was one thing Harry Potter had learned in his six years of life, it was that waiting to be saved was pointless.

If you wanted something to change, you had to change it yourself.

And so, as he sat in his cupboard under the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he listened as the voice of the only teacher he had ever known spoke once again.

"Wake up, apprentice. We have much to do."

Harry sighed but grinned, already anticipating another lesson.

Because while most six-year-olds spent their days playing with toys, Harry Potter was learning magic.

And today, he had a feeling it was going to be interesting.

"Magic is power, but only if used wisely. A fool who casts spells without thought is more dangerous to himself than to his enemies."

Harry nodded along as he scribbled notes in his spellbook, his messy handwriting filling the pages.

He had already learned Prestidigitation, the first spell Mordenkainen had taught him—small tricks, harmless illusions, minor manipulations.

But today, his teacher had something different in mind.

"You have learned to shape magic. Now, you must learn to shape your own destiny."

Harry blinked. "…That sounds important."

"It is. Tell me, what would be the most important thing to a Wizard?"

Harry thought about it. "Magic?"

"A reasonable assumption. Incorrect, but reasonable."

Harry scowled. Mordenkainen did this a lot—asking questions he already had the answer to but forcing Harry to figure it out himself.

It was frustrating. But it was also kind of fun.

"Then what is it?"

"Wealth."

Harry frowned. "Money?"

"Yes."

That… wasn't what he expected.

"Gold builds kingdoms. Gold funds armies. Gold buys power. And more importantly Gold buys Knowledge."

Mordenkainen's tone was calm, factual—not greedy, just realistic.

"Even a wizard as powerful as I once required coin to fund my research. Magic alone is not enough, apprentice. You must learn how to thrive."

And that was how Harry Potter, six years old, began his first business.

It started small.

At school, Dudley and his gang ran everything. If you wanted to sit in a certain place at lunch, you had to pay a tax. If you had a toy they wanted, you gave it up or regretted it later.

Harry had learned long ago that fighting them head-on was pointless.

But outsmarting them?

That was another matter entirely.

Using Prestidigitation, he did small tricks—just enough to make himself useful to the other kids. But didn't let others know it was magic.

Turning pencils different colors —1pence per color change, markers are costly.

Warming a seat in the winter  — 2 pennies, getting the hands to warm up is tough in winters

Making someone's notebook cover glitter — 3 pennies, glitter is costlier

To everyone else, it was just a trick of the light, a well-placed sleight of hand.

Only Harry knew the truth.

And Mordenkainen?

"Clever."

Harry grinned every time he heard that.

Because that single word meant he was doing something right.

Soon, Harry had a steady flow of coins coming in.

He never charged too much, never made himself too important, and never let anyone suspect that his tricks were anything but normal.

Even when the teachers praised his sleight of hand, he only ever smiled innocently and said, "Just a bit of practice, Miss!"

Mordenkainen's approval was silent but unmistakable.

"Deception is not always an act of cruelty, apprentice. Sometimes, it is a shield."

Harry understood.

Harry had inherited many things from his parents.

From his mother, Lily, he had gained his intellect and sharp wit.

From his father, James…

He had inherited the art of troublemaking.

The first time he truly stood up to Dudley, it hadn't been with fists—it had been with his mind.

Dudley and his gang had been bullying another kid, shoving him against the wall.

Harry simply hid behind them, behind a corner, and cast his only spell to make it seem like Dudley had soiled his pants and make it smell very bad.

"Hey Dudley. Mate you soiled your pants..." his gang mentioned, moving away from him, hands pinching their noses.

Dudley looked down confused, "NO I didn't—" and what greeted him was a patch of dark brown in his khaki shorts. Smelling horrendous.

The bullying forgotten, the kid dashed away. And so did Dudley's "friends".

His work done, Harry simply went off.

This incident didn't really blow up. Dudley was still bigger than a lot of the kids.

The next time?

Harry had enchanted a single piece of Dudley's food to change color mid-bite, making it look like mold had suddenly grown all over it.

Dudley had spat it out and refused to eat cafeteria food for a week.

Harry had barely contained his laughter.

"Out of the Lair of Strahd into the head of Nystul's spawn" Mordenkainen had commented dryly.

Harry just grinned. He did not recognize the names, but he couldn't care less.

Because for the first time, he was winning.

Mordenkainen, of course, had his own thoughts on Harry's antics.

"You remind me of an old Fool."

"That does not seem like praise."

*"One would assume so. But Nystul was a highly competent wizard, although he had a flair for pranks. Powerful enough to stand beside me as equals.".

"Seemed like you were friends."

"I despised him", Mordenkainen stated. "But I would be an even greater fool if I were to deny his skill..... Remember well apprentice 'Bravery without intelligence is recklessness. Intelligence without bravery is cowardice.' "

Harry had thought about that for a long time.

He refused to be either.

So, he did more than just pranks.

He helped other kids stand up for themselves.

He showed them tricks—how to use words instead of fists, how to turn attention away from them and onto someone else.

The more he learned, the more he taught others.

And slowly but surely, Dudley's reign of terror weakened.

He wasn't a hero.

But he was something better.

He was clever.

When Harry turned seven, Mordenkainen introduced him to another lesson.

"You have learned how to thrive in a world that wishes to crush you. You have used your wit and magic to carve your own path. Now, it is time to take another step."

"A new spell?" Harry guessed.

"Not all spells sustain themselves. Some need something more."

And that was how Harry learned about spellcasting components—Verbal, Somatic, and Material.

He learned how some spells required movement, words, or objects.

---

Each new spell came, not as a new lesson, but a solution.

Dudley broke his glasses by mistake?

He learnt of material components. Collecting pieces and scraps of metal, he managed to learn his second spell Mending. Allowing him to make small fixes, helping him fix his glasses.

Studying at night, In the darkness?

He was told to forage for glow-in-dark moss or fireflies. Which he used to create Light of his own.

There were also some spells that Mordenkainen insisted on him learning.

"Mage Hand for reaching high places and True Strike to fend off foes who get too close. You will need them the most when you expect it the least."

Mordenkainen was not a gentle teacher.

He did not offer praise freely, nor did he make things easy.

When Harry failed, Mordenkainen simply said, "Try again."

And Harry did.

Again.

And again.

Until he got it right.

And when he finally understood the structure of magic, Mordenkainen said only one thing.

"Acceptable."

But to Harry, that meant everything.

Thus, his spellbook expanded. Now with 5 spells and even more knowledge of the Arcane.

---

Spell Name: Mending

Type: Cantrip (Fixing Magic)

What It Does: Fixes small broken things like torn paper, cracked glasses, and snapped shoelaces. Can't fix things if pieces are missing.

How I Learned It:

Dudley accidentally broke my glasses. Master Mord said magic has rules and that fixing things takes more than just willpower.

I had to collect scraps of metal from broken things and learn about Material Components before I could cast it. Scraps hold the essence of what was once whole.

Important Notes:

Needs scraps to work.

Doesn't fix missing parts.

Perfect for glasses, torn homework, and Aunt Petunia's favorite vase (before she notices).

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Spell Name: Light

Type: Cantrip (Glow Magic)

What It Does: Makes something glow like a lantern when I touch it. Lasts until I stop it or after a while.

How I Learned It:

Needed light to study at night without getting caught. Master Mord told me to forage for glowing things—found fireflies and glow-in-the-dark moss. Had to understand light before I could make my own.

Important Notes:

Good for reading at night.

Glows until I stop it.

Can be cast on anything, even my hand.

Firefly-powered! (Not really, but I like to think so.)

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Spell Name: Mage Hand

Type: Cantrip (Floating Magic Hand)

What It Does: Makes an invisible hand that can grab, pull, or push things from far away. Not strong, but useful!

How I Learned It:

Master Mord made me climb shelves to grab things. Failed (a lot). Said I needed to reach beyond my hands.

Then he taught me Mage Hand. Now, I don't need to climb anymore.

Important Notes:

Reaches up to 30 feet!

Can't lift heavy stuff (yet).

Great for grabbing books, snacks, and throwing things from a distance.

----

Spell Name: True Strike

Type: Cantrip (Aiming and Hitting Magic)

What It Does: Makes me see weak spots, letting me strike with better accuracy for a moment. And hit harder with a stick.

How I Learned It:

Master Mord insisted I learn it. Said "You will need it most when you expect it the least." He made me find a expensive looking stick from the scrap yard. He told me to concentrate my magic on it and then use it to hit something.

Tried it on a wooden post first. Missed. Then I focused, and suddenly, I struck it right in the middle, making a dent. I quickly ran from there.

Important Notes:

Shows weak spots. And makes me hit harder.

Only lasts for one strike.

Useful if I ever need to hit someone hard (hope not).