The moment the brick wall parted on its own, Diagon Alley unfolded beneath the sunlight.
Aaron stood at the archway and cast his eyes across the scene.
Crooked shops jammed both sides of the street under colorful signboards.
Broomsticks hovered and rotated inside display windows, and massive cauldrons outside apothecary doors spewed plumes of purple smoke.
“Gringotts first,” McGonagall said, taking the lead.
Gringotts was the snow-white marble building standing at the far end of Diagon Alley, flanked at the entrance by two uniformed Goblins.
The moment Aaron stepped onto the stairs, the two Goblins reacted oddly.
Their bodies cringed downward almost in unison.
Heads that had been held high dropped instantly, their pointed ears trembling.
As Aaron passed between them, the Goblin on the left even bowed forward to pull the door open for him.
McGonagall frowned.
“This is highly unusual. Goblins are notoriously proud creatures; they never act this way toward any wizard.”
“Maybe they’re just in a good mood today?” Aaron said.
Inside the main hall, the situation was even more extreme.
Behind the counter, the Goblins stopped their work one by one, every head turning to stare at Aaron.
The Goblin at the head of the line, Griphook, slid off his high stool and hurried forward with a deeply stooped back.
“Honored guest, how may I be of service to you today?”
“I’m here to withdraw money,” Aaron said, handing over the key.
“The Klein vault.”
Griphook’s fingers trembled as he took the key, his bowing motions thrice as dramatic as usual.
“Please follow me. I will arrange everything at once.”
McGonagall stood to the side, her eyes behind her spectacles fixed on Griphook’s retreating back for a long time.
“Aaron.”
“Yes?”
“Are you certain you’ve never had any contact with the wizarding world before?”
“Positive,” Aaron said, following Griphook toward the carts.
“I’ve been in the orphanage since I was three.”
McGonagall said nothing more.
After hurtling along subterranean tracks for a few minutes, the cart screeched to a halt, and Griphook unlocked the vault door with his key.
Inside lay towering piles of Gold Galleons, Silver Sickles, and Bronze Knuts.
Aaron filled a pouch to the brim with Gold Galleons and offered his thanks to Griphook, who bowed low once more.
Back on the surface, McGonagall guided Aaron through his supply list one item at a time: textbooks, a cauldron, a telescope, and school robes.
Their final stop was Ollivanders.
Dimly lit, the shop was crammed wall to wall with dusty long boxes.
Ollivander emerged from behind the shelves, his large silver eyes gleaming eerily in the gloom.
“Good afternoon. Another new wizard! Come, come, let us see which one suits you.”
He pulled a box from a shelf and offered it forward.
“Hawthorn, unicorn hair core, eleven inches. Give it a try.”
Aaron gripped the wand.
A second later, the wand snapped straight down the middle, splitting into two pieces that clattered onto the floor.
Ollivander’s smile froze on his face.
“This… Try another one. Holly, dragon heartstring core, twelve and a half inches.”
Aaron took it.
Three seconds later, this one shattered as well.
“Yew! Phoenix feather!”
Shattered.
“Willow!”
Shattered.
“Ash!”
This one lasted five seconds before giving a sharp, shrill wail and splitting end-to-end into four splinters.
Ollivander staggered back two paces, his lips trembling violently.
“In all my years of wandmaking… such a thing has never happened… The power inside you… it… it isn’t ordinary magic at all.”
“Do you have any others?” Aaron asked.
Ollivander stared at him in silence for a long moment, then turned and vanished into the deepest row of shelves.
After rummaging around for ten full minutes, he emerged holding a box coated in a thick layer of dust.
“Black walnut, Thestral tail hair core, thirteen inches.”
The moment Aaron gripped it, the wand quivered violently, sputtering a few dark purple sparks from its tip, but this time, it did not shatter.
“…Barely usable.” Aaron tucked the wand into his sleeve.
He knew perfectly well that he had no need for incantations; this wand was merely a prop to mask his divine power.
“Seven Galleons,” Ollivander said, his voice trembling slightly.
“No—no charge. Consider it a gift.”
“Thank you.”
Aaron paid the money anyway and walked out of the shop, stopping at the door.
“Professor McGonagall, I’d like to look for a pet.”
“The magical pet shop is just ahead,” McGonagall said, pointing toward the corner.
“Go on in and pick one out; I’ll wait outside.”
Aaron pushed open the door to the Magical Menagerie.
The shop bell chimed once.
In an instant, every bit of noise in the chaotic shop vanished.
Toads in their cages froze flat against the corners; owls pulled their wings tight and hung their heads; even the snakes in the display cases coiled into tight spirals and buried their heads.
The entire shop fell dead silent.
“W-Welcome?”
The shopkeeper behind the counter was a balding, middle-aged wizard, fine beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.
“Why did everyone go quiet?” He tapped the owl cage beside him, but the bird didn’t budge.
“What on earth is going on today?”
Aaron ignored the ordinary pets.
His gaze swept across rows of cages until stopping at the darkest corner at the back of the shop.
A rusty iron cage stood there, draped with a filthy piece of cloth.
Curled inside was a tiny creature.
Its silver-white fur was matted with dried blood, and a deep, inflamed wound gaped across its hind leg.
A juvenile Demiguise.
It curled up weakly, its breathing rapid and shallow.
“Laddio, don’t touch that one,” the shopkeeper called out from behind.
“Poachers injured that creature, and it has a terrible temper. It bit me three times last week.”
Aaron squatted down and slipped a finger through the iron bars of the cage.
The juvenile Demiguise raised its head, staring at his finger with big, clear blue eyes.
It didn’t bite.
Aaron touched his fingertip to its forehead.
Divine power surged—colorless and odorless, yet warm as midday sunlight—flowing through his fingertip into the little creature’s body.
The wound on its hind leg healed at a visible pace.
The inflamed swelling vanished, the torn fur regenerated, and its lustrous silver-white coat was restored to its full brilliance.
The Demiguise shivered…
Its entire body quivered before it pushed itself up and nudged Aaron’s finger affectionately with its head.
At that moment, Aaron felt a gush of power of faith surging from the little creature’s soul—ten times stronger than forty insects combined.
“Are you willing to enter my realm?”
The Demiguise gazed at him with blue eyes and let out a soft, low purr.
The next second, it vanished into thin air.
[Believer +1 (Juvenile Demiguise · Magical Creature · Rare)]
[Power of Faith: Strong]
[Divine Kingdom Space Expanded: Radius 20m → 200m]
[Acquired Core Talent: Invisibility (Can freely conceal presence and body, immune to all detection spells)]
“Hey!” The shopkeeper dashed out from behind the counter.
“Where’s the Demiguise?!”
“It ran off,” Aaron stood up and patted the dust from his knees.
“It probably turned invisible and slipped away when I opened the cage.”
“What? That thing is worth three hundred Galleons… No, how could it turn invisible? It was injured, it shouldn’t have been able to…”
The shopkeeper crouched down to rummage through the empty cage, then scrambled up to search high and low, scouring every corner of the shop.
Nothing.
“Bloody hell.”
Aaron pushed open the door and stepped outside, sunshine warming his face.
McGonagall leaned against the wall outside, looking over as he emerged.
“Did you find one you liked?”
“No,” Aaron shook his head, “but that’s fine.”
He walked beside McGonagall down the street, hands resting in his pockets.
Through his fingertips, he could feel the juvenile Demiguise gamboling happily inside his Divine Kingdom.
The two-hundred-meter Divine Kingdom now featured grassy knolls and flowing streams.
Over forty insects bustled in their respective corners, while the young Demiguise tumbled happily beneath the tallest tree.
Aaron recalled the start date on his acceptance letter: September 1st.
Less than two months away.
Inside Hogwarts’s Forbidden Forest lived herds of Centaurs, a nest of Acromantulas, territories of Unicorns, and Merpeople at the bottom of the Black Lake.
Every single one was a magical creature far more powerful than a Demiguise.
And every single one meant stronger faith and even more terrifying talents.
“Professor McGonagall.”
“Yes?”
“Is there a forest near Hogwarts?”
McGonagall cast a backward glance at him.
“Yes, the Forbidden Forest. But as its name suggests, it is strictly out-of-bounds to students.”
“Oh,” Aaron said.
“Understood.”
His voice was flat, devoid of any inflection.
Yet if McGonagall could see the Divine Kingdom inside his mind, expanded now to a radius of two hundred meters, she would realize:
Rules regarding “out-of-bounds” simply did not apply to a god.