Harry doesn't want to be a wizard, he just wants to be a superhero

"So that's how it is ~" Harry stared at the blond wizard with a smile that wasn't quite a smile, as if he believed his explanation. "Then goodbye, Mudblood. I look forward to our next meeting."

Withdrawing his hand in time, stopping himself from beheading the blond wizard with a single strike, Harry breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Madam Malkin was a good person, and it wouldn't do to have a bloody incident in her shop.

Patting the blond wizard on the shoulder and paying for the robes, Harry nodded slightly amidst the curious gazes of Madam Malkin and her assistant, then left the shop.

The blond boy stood there dumbly, and when he came back to his senses, his cheeks turned from white to red, and finally back to a deathly pale gray.

He was furious, but he didn't dare express it. At that moment, his heart was already drowned in the fear of death.

The poor blond wizard could only stomp his feet fiercely and go next door to tell his parents.

… … … … … …

Just as Harry walked out of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, he saw Hagrid.

The half-giant, who looked quite fierce, was holding a chocolate ice cream in one hand and constantly licking it.

Perhaps his movements were too rough, because his face and hair were more or less stained with traces of ice cream.

Hagrid handed Harry the two items in his other hand, one a drink, presumably the 'pick-me-up' he had mentioned, and the other also a chocolate ice cream:

"Here you go, Harry. This is the pick-me-up, and the other is chocolate with crushed nuts ice cream. I think you'll love them."

Harry took them and tasted each one. They were indeed very good:

"Thank you, Hagrid. I like them very much."

After drinking half of the pick-me-up, Harry thought of what the blond wizard had said earlier and asked Hagrid:

"I thought I heard the name Quidditch just now. It seems that many wizards like Quidditch. Does it have any special meaning in the wizarding world?"

"Merlin's beard, Harry, I forgot that you don't know much about the wizarding world. You don't even know Quidditch.

It is the most important sport in the wizarding world, governed by the Department of Magical Games and Sports under the Ministry of Magic. Children play it, Hogwarts students have teams participating, and there are world-renowned athletes who make a career out of it.

In short, almost all wizards love Quidditch!"

Harry nodded. Wasn't this just a sport similar to soccer?

It was just that Quidditch occupied an absolute dominant position in the wizarding world.

Thinking that his never-before-seen father was once a Quidditch Seeker for Gryffindor, Harry felt that he might be able to give it a try.

However, this process would most likely just be a pastime and not a challenge. He didn't think that his body, strengthened by Chaos Magic, would be weaker than other physically weak little wizards.

After finishing the ice cream, the two arrived at a bookstore called Flourish and Blotts.

Flourish and Blotts had a lot of books, with a large number of bookshelves stacked together, filled with books all the way to the ceiling.

Harry first bought the books he needed for school with Hagrid's help, and then, when Hagrid wasn't paying attention, he bought books such as 'Curses and Counter-Curses' and 'Forgotten Ancient Magic and Spells'.

He thought that Hagrid probably wouldn't allow a little wizard to read these more dangerous knowledge, but he wasn't a child and didn't want to embarrass Hagrid, so he could only use this method.

Putting the secretly purchased books into his pocket dimension, this profound storage magic wasn't difficult for Harry, it just required a lot of magic to maintain.

And what Harry didn't lack most was magic.

Afterwards, Hagrid led Harry to buy cauldrons, telescopes, various herbs, and other items. In addition to these items required by Hogwarts, Harry also additionally bought items such as dragon blood and unicorn hair.

The tissues and organs of powerful magical creatures could be used for many purposes, such as paying the price for wizards, making powerful magical items and precious magical potions, etc…

What disappointed Harry a little was that these magical materials that sounded very powerful actually didn't contain much magic.

Just like dragon blood, the dragon blood Harry had encountered before was like lava, and a drop of dragon blood contained enough magic to destroy a small town.

Of course, that was the blood of the most powerful magical dragon, and these dragon bloods were far inferior even to the weakest dragon. It was estimated that using these materials to make magical items would also greatly reduce their power.

Finally, Harry and Hagrid stopped in front of a dilapidated shop. On the equally dilapidated plaque in front of the shop, the following letters were engraved:

"Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."

When they walked into the store, a tinkling bell sound came from the back of the shop, which should be a reminder to the shopkeeper that guests had arrived.

This shop was very small, but there were many items on display, especially the narrow boxes stacked on one side of the counter, which almost occupied an entire wall.

Hagrid told Harry that he was going out for a while to buy something and asked him to wait alone.

Harry nodded lightly.

"Good afternoon." A soft voice rang out. Harry looked up and saw an old man standing on a ladder, curiously looking at him.

This old man was very old, with a face full of wrinkles, but he was a very amiable person.

When he swayed down from the ladder, Harry was worried that he would fall to the ground.

The old man came to Harry and stared at him with his light-colored eyes like two round moons:

"Oh, Harry Potter, I've been wanting to meet you for a long time.

You have your mother's eyes. She bought her first wand here back then.

Ten and a quarter inches, willow as the main body, it is a wand that is good at casting spells."

Ollivander came to Harry and looked at him with kindness, his eyes full of curiosity.

However, Harry really wanted to complain, hoping that Mr. Ollivander would not stare at other little wizards like this if possible.

If he was too close, those gentle eyes would appear too cold because the color was too light, which would scare those little wizards.

If the blond wizard was here, he would probably pee his pants again.

Ollivander nodded with satisfaction, left Harry, and went to a shelf, taking out a tape measure from it:

"Your father was different. Mahogany wand, eleven inches long, flexible and full of power, best used for Transfiguration.

Your father liked it very much, of course, it was the wand that chose its wizard."

Harry frowned slightly, not taking Ollivander's words to heart.

The Supreme Mage told him that magic does not have categories, it is controlled by the mage. Even evil magic can bloom beautiful flowers in the hands of a kind mage, and the same is true for magical items.

According to Mr. Ollivander's statement, the Chaos Magic in his body is not a kind category.

Its essence is to distort reality, time and space, chaotic and disordered, but in his hands, it can heal others. He is not a bad mage.