Thirty minutes after asking for directions.
Thorne stood in the middle of Diagon Alley, completely lost.
He looked around at the snails, mosquitoes, and stag beetles bustling past in their robes and felt his scalp prickle.
This was officially the biggest problem he’d faced since arriving in this world.
Harder than the Hogwarts interview, even.
He was lost.
“…Shit.” Thorne scratched his head and muttered under his breath.
Goddamn it.
He’d inherited the worst sense of direction in existence.
Getting lost in Hallownest was one thing.
How the hell was he still getting lost now that he was in human society?
He blamed that cricket for giving him the world’s most useless directions.
By the time Thorne realized he needed to go back and ask again, the shop was already closed.
Not that he was surprised.
The way that cricket had been staring at him, you’d think Thorne was about to eat him alive.
The guy had looked ready to hand over every last coin just to make him leave.
Thorne sighed.
Guess not every cricket in the world valued gold more than its own life.
Back in Hallownest he’d met one that loved money so much it supposedly slept hugging its coin purse every night.
Still… it wasn’t a total waste of time.
At least he’d gotten to explore Diagon Alley properly.
Thorne glanced down at his system panel.
[Current Special Environment: Diagon Alley] [Exploration Progress: 28.9%] He nodded to himself.
At least this street was wide open.
No “do not enter” zones like at St.
Mungo’s, where half the interesting places were visible but off-limits.
He kept walking and eventually found himself standing in front of the entrance to Knockturn Alley again.
He stopped beside a pure white building.
Something about the place felt… off.
There were creatures inside that definitely weren’t bugs.
Dark shapes, about Flitwick’s size, but nowhere near as friendly-looking.
Thorne only glanced at it once before deciding it clearly wasn’t a bar.
So he kept walking.
He looked around, wondering if he should just ask someone else for directions.
He needed a solid landmark—somewhere to anchor himself—before he could actually get anywhere.
He was even seriously considering breaking out his old map-drawing skills again.
Back in Hallownest he’d taught himself cartography just to stop getting lost all the time.
Ended up making a good friend with another map merchant because of it.
He looked down at himself.
Tattered robes.
Covered in coal dust.
People were already starting to stare.
Thorne was starting to worry that if he kept wandering around like this, someone might actually call the Aurors and have him arrested for vagrancy or something equally stupid.
While he was thinking that, a loud, familiar voice boomed across the street.
“Professor Thorne!
What are you doing here?” Thorne froze, then whipped around.
The second he saw Hagrid standing in front of the white building, waving both arms like a madman, the tension drained out of him all at once.
He didn’t even think.
He just walked straight over and pulled the huge man into a tight hug.
“Hey, buddy.
You have no idea what I just—” He didn’t get to finish.
A wave of vomit hit him square in the chest.
“AAAAAHHHH!!” — Ten minutes later.
“Hagrid, you better have a damn good explanation.” Thorne’s voice was low and dangerous as he pulled his freshly cleaned (and still heavily patched) robes back on.
“Because even if Merlin himself showed up right now, I’d drag you down with me.” “I smell like rock cakes from head to toe.” Hagrid looked pale as death, guilt written all over his face.
His lips were almost white.
“S-sorry, Eric… it’s those goblins.
Their carts don’t have brakes—hurk!” He doubled over again, dry-heaving.
Thorne watched him and immediately lost the will to keep yelling.
He just patted the big man’s back with a sigh.
“Hey.
You get motion sick?” “Maybe drink some water first.” Hagrid nodded weakly.
“Yeah… I’ll go grab a drink at the Leaky Cauldron…” He caught his breath, then added, “Could you look after Harry for a bit?
Take him to get his wand.” Before Thorne could answer, Hagrid was already staggering off down the alley.
Thorne blinked.
“…Harry?” He looked down automatically.
And found himself staring at a tiny, bespectacled little stag beetle.
It had a long, curved horn rising from its head, six spindly legs, a cluster of short white bristles around its face, and a smooth, glossy shell.
For a second, memories flashed through Thorne’s mind.
The last stag beetle.
No—the old stag beetle.
The one who had traveled with him through the kingdom, telling stories about carrying the realm’s transport on its back.
“Eric… Professor?” Thorne snapped back to the present.
The little stag beetle was looking up at him, clearly nervous.
Thorne smiled and crouched down so they were eye level.
“Harry, right?
You’re the kid Hagrid’s friend sent him to find?” “He told me about you.
Said he was really looking forward to meeting you.
Said you were… the kind of surprise even better than seeing a dragon.” Harry glanced at Hagrid’s retreating back.
Some of the tension eased from his small frame.
“Thank you, Professor.” “But… Hagrid’s the real surprise.” He said it seriously.
“When he kicked the door down and told me I was a wizard… that might’ve been the happiest moment of my life.” Thorne raised an eyebrow.
“Kicked the door down?
What exactly did you two get up to…” He waved a hand before Harry could answer.
“Never mind.
Not important.” He studied the little stag beetle for a moment.
“You look like you’d be pretty fast on your feet.” Stag beetles were built for agility, after all.
“Huh?
I… I’m not sure.” Harry scratched his head.
“But I’m really good at running away.” “My cousin and his friends used to chase me all the time.
I could always get away.” Thorne went quiet for a long moment.
He looked at the small bug in front of him and, for just a second, the image of a skinny human boy flickered over it.
Then he smiled and stood up.
“Alright.” “Once you get to Hogwarts, nobody’s gonna do that to you anymore.” “Because I won’t let them.” He reached out and gently took the little stag beetle’s hand.
“Come on, little wizard.” “Let’s go buy you a wand.” Harry blinked, startled.
Then he nodded hard, a small, bright smile breaking across his face.
Three minutes later, they both stopped dead in the middle of the alley.
They were standing in front of the same pure white building again.
Harry looked up at Thorne, blinking.
“Professor…” “You’re not lost, are you?” “O-of course not.” Thorne denied it instantly.
“I just need a little time… to finish this map.” He was already bent over a piece of parchment, quill moving fast as he sketched.
Harry stared at him in silence.
“…Professor Thorne?” “Are you… actually a real Hogwarts professor?” He looked so cool when he made that promise earlier!!!