The scent of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen as Harry Potter moved efficiently, preparing breakfast for the Dursleys. His hands worked with practiced ease, cracking eggs, buttering toast, and stirring porridge. To any observer, he was just a small, unremarkable boy following orders.
But beneath the surface, he was far more than that.
With each movement, each light touch upon a book on the counter—Aunt Petunia's cherished cookbooks, Dudley's neglected school texts—knowledge flowed into his Library of Arcane Truths. Recipes, mathematical formulas, history lessons, and even the proper way to iron a shirt were neatly catalogued, ready for him to access at any time.
Yet, as the knowledge settled within him, he sensed something deeper. The Library, for all its vastness, did not grant true mastery just by collecting books. He could reference the information instantly, but it remained theoretical—stored away rather than instinctive.
And then came the realization.
To completely internalize knowledge, to transform it from mere words into reflexive understanding, he needed something more. He needed to teach it.
Only by sharing his knowledge and earning sincere gratitude would the Golden Book appear.
The Golden Book was different from the rest of his collection. It wasn't just an archive—it was a catalyst. If he taught someone well enough for them to truly appreciate his guidance, the Golden Book would form a page. That page could then absorb any completed book within his Library, converting its contents into muscle memory. Every page would also grant a slight increase in his magic—small, nearly imperceptible, but permanent.
For instance, if Dumbledore's total magic were measured at 100 and an average professor's ranged between 70 and 80, then each Golden Page would increase his power by one.
In that quiet moment as he plated the food, Harry's mind turned to the future. He carefully calculated the steps ahead—a time when circumstances would allow him to share his hard-earned knowledge with others. Though his current surroundings were bleak, he recognized that every lesson learned and every subtle improvement added to his strength. His plan was simple yet profound: accumulate knowledge now, and when the opportunity arose, teach others to solidify and expand his power.
In the humble kitchen, amid the clatter of utensils and the soft murmur of early morning routines, the foundation of a greater destiny was being laid. Each deliberate touch, each thoughtful gesture, was part of a larger strategy—a careful preparation for a future where his mastery of magic would be undeniable and his Golden Pages would slowly build his strength, one measured step at a time.