The conversation with the school representative was surprisingly brief and pleasant.
Ethan was pleasantly surprised; the stern-faced professor was far more accommodating than she looked.
Mrs.
White had wanted to invite Professor McGonagall to stay for lunch, but her offer was declined.
The professor was very busy, and once certain matters were settled, she promptly took her leave.
The day after their meeting, an owl postman delivered a letter along with a palm-sized leather pouch.
The letter informed him that the school had approved his application.
Provided he did not break school rules or get expelled during his seven years, Hogwarts would grant him an annual bursary until graduation.
In addition, a list of addresses was enclosed: The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, Ollivanders Wand Shop, Flourish and Blotts, King’s Cross Station…
He opened the pouch and tipped out several gold coins.
Both sides of the coins were engraved with a head of a dragon with outstretched wings, alongside letters he couldn’t recognize.
“Tomorrow at one in the afternoon, accompanied by a parent, meet outside the Leaky Cauldron.
A school representative will be waiting there to guide me in purchasing the necessary supplies for school?” Ethan thought it over, slipped the coins back into the leather pouch, and ran downstairs.
The following afternoon.
Charing Cross Road, London.
Ethan looked up in astonishment at the gigantic figure before him.
The man’s tangled, wild mop of hair seemed to blend right into his full beard, and his eyes, large as copper bells, were wide and staring down at him.
“Ethan White?” “Mr.
Hagrid?” “That’s me.
Professor McGonagall asked me to take you to Diagon Alley.” Hagrid boomed, casting a quick glance at Mrs.
White and a middle-aged, slightly plump man who still bore traces of good looks.
Ethan introduced them, “These are my parents, who came with me today.” Mr.
Robert White and Mrs.
Sarah White nodded reservedly in greeting.
“If you don’t mind, young Mr.
White and I will be back before long.” Hagrid gestured toward a fast-food restaurant nearby, trying his best to offer a “friendly” smile.
“If all goes well, it might take just an hour.” “Of course, sir.” Robert White patted Ethan’s head, took his wife’s hand, and headed toward the diner.
Ethan watched them walk away and asked in confusion, “Are they not allowed to come along?” How did he remember Hermione’s parents going into Diagon Alley?
“If Professor McGonagall were here, they probably could,” Hagrid explained.
“It’s just that she’s dead busy this year, rushing around all day.
Fact is, everyone’s busy this year.
I’ve got to track down a student who hasn’t been getting their letters later on.
So there was no time to apply to the Ministry of Magic.
You see, not every wizard is friendly toward Muggles…” As Hagrid spoke, he turned and pushed open the battered door of The Leaky Cauldron.
Ethan’s eyes flickered.
It really was amazing.
If Hagrid hadn’t turned and opened the door, Ethan wouldn’t have noticed the tavern’s entrance right behind them at all.
Hagrid led him inside.
The place was dark and dingy, filled with an indescribable smell.
A few people sat in corners, whispering among themselves.
Behind the bar, a balding man picked up a glass and called out from afar, “The usual, Hagrid?” “No, Tom, I’m on official business!” Hagrid lifted Ethan, gave him a gentle shake, and set him back down.
Ethan: “…” “Is this one of this year’s young wizards?
Splendid lad, very handsome.” Hagrid grinned, led Ethan past the bar, and out into a small walled courtyard.
He leaned over the brick wall and began counting.
“Three up…
two across…” Having finished counting, he tapped the wall several times with the tip of his umbrella.
The bricks vibrated.
A small hole appeared in the middle, expanding rapidly until a wide archway opened up.
Hagrid seemed eager to get to his next task.
As he led Ethan through, he spoke rapidly, “Here’s Diagon Alley.
Just stick to the list…
Word of advice, if you’re tight on money, try the second-hand shop first.
Stuff there might not be new, but who cares?
So long as it’s cheap…
Mind you, you ought to buy a brand-new wand.
Freshmen get a discount!” Ethan nodded.
Secondhand robes were no big deal.
Ron, for instance, even had a hand-me-down pet from his older brother, so why should Ethan care?
Hagrid was right: who cares, as long as it’s cheap?
Diagon Alley was swarming with cloaked witches and wizards, lined with shops that dazzled the eyes.
Ethan had a long list of items to buy, but Hagrid had only given him an hour.
He practically sprinted the entire way, heading first to the secondhand shop to buy his robes, hat, and cloak.
He had intended to buy secondhand gloves as well, but they were in terrible shape, so he bought a new pair instead.
Even so, all of it together cost only one and a half Galleons.
Ethan rushed to Flourish and Blotts.
After inquiring and finding out they sold secondhand textbooks, he didn’t hesitate to pick out a full set according to his list.
Unfortunately, these books did not possess any “Value.” Textbooks and wands were the biggest expenses; even secondhand books consumed a third of the school’s grant (new books ranged from 1 to 5 Galleons each).
Ethan stepped into Ollivanders Wand Shop.
The moment he crossed the threshold, a sudden pang struck his heart, followed by a rush of information in his mind.
Ethan flushed red and forced himself not to stare at the walls packed with wands.
Ten minutes later, he left carrying a box.
Inside was a slender wand: willow, phoenix feather, eleven and a half inches, reasonably pliable.
Before leaving Diagon Alley, Hagrid handed him a train ticket and said, “Professor McGonagall asked me to give you this.
Mind you board the train before eleven o’clock on September first.
Don’t miss it!
Best of luck, Mr.
White.
I’ve got to off.” “Thank you, Mr.
Hagrid.” Ethan tucked the ticket away and parted ways with Hagrid outside the pub.
Pushing his trolley alone, he went to the diner to find his parents.
Incidentally, he didn’t buy an owl.
Hagrid had told him the school provided messenger owls charging only five Knuts per round trip, which came to about five pence—roughly 0.43 RMB in 1991.
Since Ethan wouldn’t be writing home every single day, renting a school owl was far more economical than buying one.
Mr.
and Mrs.
White looked with curiosity at the clothes and books in the trolley.
Mrs.
White noticed that the clothes appeared worn and the corners of the textbooks were heavily frayed—a few were almost falling apart.
She pressed her lips together and whispered, “We actually have savings, sweetheart.
Even in wizarding society, they must accept pounds, right?” Ethan answered without hesitation, “Mum, what I need is the knowledge inside the books, not their outward appearance.” Hogwarts was a seven-year program, but textbooks changed every year.
Unless required by the school, there was no need to buy brand-new ones—in his past life, he had bought all his university textbooks secondhand online anyway.
Besides, even though room, board, and tuition were free, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t spend a single copper; stationery alone would be a constant expense.
It paid to save where he could and prepare for rainy days.
Mrs.
White said nothing more, merely pinching Ethan’s cheek fondly.