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At the beginning of August, I received a letter from Hogwarts with a list of textbooks, both basic and supplementary. I had decided to go to the Diagon Alley and buy the required books and other school stuff. Still, Lady Walburga insisted that I go to at least some little atelier. I need magic clothes.

It goes without saying that the Grimmaud House had piles of clothes, both worn and brand new, mothballed. Despite Lady Walburga's demand, however, she was in no hurry to have Kreacher supply me with clothes. The reason for this was insanely simple - everyone who needed it had already realized the suspicious resemblance of my face to Narcissa's. At the same time, again, everyone knows that I grew up among Muggles, and for public opinion, there is still the possibility that I am a Muggle-born. And then, lo and behold! Wearing magical clothes made of equally magical fabrics and obviously with cool charms on them. And the style is old, and young witches know a thing or two about it. And where, may I ask, has a Muggle-born wizard, bearing a suspicious resemblance to a public man's wife, suddenly acquired new wizardly clothes of an old-style and cut?

"Lady Walburga!" I pretended to be indignant as I stood in front of the portrait. "I love and appreciate suits, doubles, triples, double-breasted, single-breasted, with or without a stand-up collar. I don't care, even if it's an overcoat! But it's too uncomfortable for everyday wear.

"Do not talk nonsense, nephew," waved off Walburga and was about to start some speech, as if her face changed, as if visited the lady insights. "You wore magic clothes? Not enchanted, but made of magic fabrics?"

"Just robes."

"I see... Here is the reason for the prejudice. Now, young man, show some confidence in an elder's opinion and go to the atelier. Kreacher will give you the money. Kreacher! Money!"

A clap and a house-elf appeared at my side and held out a leather purse.

"Kreacher brought the money, ma'am, young lord," the house-elf nodded, almost rendering me speechless. He nodded to me. A lord, too... On the other hand, not a "vile family traitor," and thanks, Merlin.

Anyway, I had to go. No, I was not against trying on and evaluating the magic version of business suits or something similar because I had always liked this style of clothing. The problem was that such clothes often limited the freedom of movement and maneuvering and were not known for their comfort.

However, after spending almost two hours in the same store of Madame Malkin, which was called "Robes for all occasions," I managed to get quite a decent black three-piece suit with a double-breasted jacket. The style and fit were a little old by the standards of the ordinary world. Still, the fabrics were quality and comfortable, and, combined with the enchantment, I had the impression that I was wearing the most comfortable clothes there could be. Of course, the custom tailoring was also worth considering. I understood Lockhart in his books for a moment - he seemed to be in permanent shock at the convenience and possibilities of magical clothing, which did not affect my appearance at all. That's why a third of his books were devoted to such subtleties and details of his personal closet.

The rest of the shopping for school did not take much time, although I sometimes had to wade through the crowds of familiar and unfamiliar wizards, who rushed with excitement and even some frenzy for shopping, once they received the Hogwarts mailing list. That's why there was no shortage of people on Diagon Alley. I saw the plus side of that as an opportunity to listen in on the conversations. But it was mostly about Black, his danger, the fears of the other wizards, and so on, so I didn't stick around long enough and quickly headed home.

I spent the entire month of August at Knight's and Grimmauld Place. At Knight's, I repeated the usual school program, going far, far ahead, so that the usual homework in Hog would not be time-consuming. It turned out that even though thanks to occlumency, my memory is quite good, but the events of the distant past, whether infancy or past life, remain of the same quality for me.

At Grimmauld Place, the situation was slowly improving - I mean, slowly and surely, the look of the house's general abandonment was disappearing. If I solved the basic and obvious problems by removing the dust, soot, dirt, magical pests, doxies, and other things that hid there, then it seemed that Kreacher did the rest. In addition to making the house look at least somewhat decent, I conjured and studied a couple of books on occlumency so as not to make irreparable mistakes in my mental experiments and developments. The outcome of the study was that the information was too abstract, too individual and that what worked for one person would not work at all with another. Due to the absence of any specific techniques, my "consciousness in cube" project has been suspended for an indefinite period of time.

I did not give up my physical training either, and I did not need any simulators for that - transfiguration, though it was a bit difficult without the necessary formulas.

I tried to study Patronus - it didn't work, though I had the right literature. As I thought, to learn such complex spells, not without reason related to higher magic, requires either a mentor or extensive knowledge, experience, and skills. I had nowhere to find a mentor, and the rest I was still just working on. I work hard, diligently, all the time, but not enough to learn the really hard stuff on my own. Even the books recommended by McGonagall and Flitwick, safely memorized, which I began to master, could not help. Eh, I wish someone had shown me Patronus a couple of times. And gave me a happy memory - I don't have any of those. Seriously. No matter how hard I tried, nothing came to mind.