Chapter 19: The First Auction

Harry stood outside Silverbrush Auctions, his heart beating faster than usual. The grand building was filled with collectors, critics, and art enthusiasts—an entirely different world from anything he had known before.

This was his first real step into the professional art scene.

He adjusted the strap of his portfolio and took a deep breath. He wasn't nervous about his art—he had studied techniques from countless books in the Library of Arcane Path—but he wasn't sure how people would react.

—

Inside, he was led to a small, well-lit room where a man with silver-streaked hair sat behind an elegant wooden desk.

"You must be Mr. Potter," the man said, his sharp eyes studying him.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied politely.

"I am Alistair Vaughn, the head curator. Let's see what you've brought."

Harry carefully unwrapped his paintings and set them before the curator.

The moment Vaughn's eyes landed on them, the atmosphere changed. His fingers tapped the edge of his desk as he studied each piece with an intensity Harry had not expected.

The first painting depicted a lonely street under the glow of a streetlamp, rain reflecting golden light off the pavement.

The second was a stormy sky with a lone bird soaring against the winds.

The third was a quiet riverbank at dawn, mist curling over the water like a dream.

"These… these are exceptional," Vaughn murmured. "The brushwork, the colors… but most of all, the emotion."

He glanced at Harry. "Where did you learn?"

"I practiced on my own," Harry said simply.

Vaughn exhaled. "Remarkable. I believe these will do well at auction. Are you interested?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

—

The Auction

Harry watched from the back of the grand hall as his paintings were displayed one by one.

The first painting started at £150 and quickly rose to £400. The second, the stormy sky, fetched £600. The third, with its peaceful riverbank, sold for £950.

By the end of the event, Harry had earned just over £2,000.

He exhaled. That was… more than he expected.

—

After the Auction

As he walked home that night, his mind raced with thoughts.

His first sale had been a success.

And that made him wonder—if people truly appreciated his art, shouldn't he add a personal touch? Something unique?

That's when the idea struck him.

A hidden signature.

Not just initials, but a symbol.

His next paintings would carry something **small but meaningful—**a phoenix soaring into the sky from an open book, hidden in the details of the artwork. A mark of his journey, of his rebirth into something greater.

Harry smiled to himself.

"Let's see where this path takes me."

—