The morning light crept through the small gap beneath the cupboard door, casting faint lines across the dusty floor. Harry stretched quietly, feeling the stiffness in his limbs ease as he sat up on his thin mattress.
Today was a new day, another step forward.
'Today's plan is simple. Don't irritate the Dursleys and find an opportunity to earn money.'
He knew his limits. Vernon would never give him a single penny, and Petunia only spent on him when absolutely necessary. That left one option—earning it himself.
After finishing his usual chores, he stepped outside under the guise of "getting some fresh air"—a phrase that Vernon barely acknowledged with a grunt. In reality, he was scouting. Observing. Looking for an opening.
And soon, he found one.
Across the street, Mr. Johnson was struggling with his car, soap suds dripping unevenly across the hood as he scrubbed with a single bucket of dirty water. Harry winced at the sight—it was all wrong. The dirt was being rubbed back onto the car, likely leaving behind scratches.
He weighed his options. Barging in and offering help outright would seem odd. Instead, he leaned casually against the fence and spoke as if making an idle comment.
"You know, using two buckets helps keep the dirt from scratching the paint."
Mr. Johnson paused, looking over at him. "What was that, kid?"
Harry stepped closer, making sure to keep his posture curious, not pushy.
"Two buckets—one for clean water, one for rinsing. Otherwise, the dirt stays on the sponge and scratches the car." He gestured toward the mess of streaks forming under the soapy water. "See those swirls? That's from reusing dirty water."
Mr. Johnson frowned, inspecting the hood. "...Huh. Never thought about that."
Harry stayed silent, letting the idea settle. Give people a moment to process—don't rush them.
After a few seconds, Mr. Johnson sighed. "Well, looks like I've been doing it wrong all these years." He scratched his head, then glanced at Harry. "You seem to know what you're talking about. Ever cleaned a car before?"
"Not professionally, but I know the method." Harry shrugged. "If you want, I can help out. Might even get it shining better than usual."
The man chuckled. "Alright, kid. Show me what you've got."
Harry hid his satisfaction.Hooking people in wasn't about forcing them—it was about making them come to the decision themselves.
As he got to work, he carefully corrected the cleaning method using what he had absorbed from Vernon's car magazines and fine-tuned through the Library of Arcane Truths. Step by step, he worked efficiently, demonstrating the best way to wash, rinse, and dry for a spotless finish.
By the time they were done, Mr. Johnson stood back, impressed. "Damn. Looks better than when I take it to the automatic wash."
Then, just as Harry had hoped, Mr. Johnson reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bill. "Here—seems only fair."
Harry pretended to hesitate for a moment before taking it with a grateful nod. Act like you weren't expecting it—that makes them feel like they got a good deal.
"Thanks. If you need help next time, just let me know."
As Harry walked away, he tucked the money into his pocket, feeling the weight of his first earned coin.
Step one: complete.
Now, he just needed more jobs. If he did this right, his next visit to the library wouldn't be a problem at all.