Harry closed the box, as her felt his curiosity mount. Even suspecting the interest was magically inspired, he couldn't resist taking it along. He wasn't insane enough to touch the tiara. Well, not yet. It looked expensive, and could help him fund his muggle life without having to ask the Dursley's for anything. Well, that was a possibility if it wasn't enchanted, or cursed.
- - - - -
Taking it to the girls' bathroom, he was relieved to see that Myrtle was off exploring the pipes, or tormenting some other poor soul.
Finding one of the abandoned stalls, he set the door so the lock would only open for him. In an abandoned toilet who'd be desperate for a particular stall. Slipping inside he rested it atop the cistern. Putting the seat down, he sat facing the wall. Opening the box, the tiara was revealed once again.
Drawing his wand, he chanted under his breath, as a spell he'd learnt from Professor Lupin, the tiara glowed a faint green aura surrounding it. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he summoned up another spell he'd learned from Barty Crouch Jr., a surprisingly good teacher, if a startlingly evil person.
Harry cast this spell, and again the tiara passed with flying colours. It wasn't tainted with dark magic, or lethal in any way he could detect.
- - - - -
The stall didn't seem like a special enough location for a coronation. Taking it and holding it before himself, he went to the bank of sinks, and the wall of mirrors, so he could properly observe his own crowning.
Moving his hands, as if presenting it to some imaginary crowd, Harry raised it high, before resting atop his mop of untidy hair.
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