“When do we leave?” Adam asked.
“Tomorrow morning,” Professor McGonagall replied.
“Tomorrow?” Jean exclaimed, her eyes widening.
“Yes. It is best to handle these preparations as early as possible so you have ample time before term begins,” McGonagall explained smoothly.
Aegeus glanced at his parents, who were still visibly struggling to digest everything that had happened until now.
For Aegeus, the existence of others like him wasn’t astonishing, it was highly unlikely that he and Hermione were the only two humans in history with such a magical ability, and both of them also happened to be born from the same parents.
But the fact that an entire global civilization of wizards had remained hidden right under everyone’s nose was genuinely impressive.
More than that, McGonagall’s brief Transfiguration demonstration had left a deep impression on him.
And as far as Aegeus was concerned, a whole hidden world meant a whole new set of potential threats.
He was also unsure if wizards were friendly or hostile.
The designated meeting day arrived, and the Granger family set off.
“Are you sure it’s around here?” Jean asked, squinting at the ordinary Muggle storefronts.
She couldn’t see the pub at all.
“It’s right ahead!” Hermione insisted enthusiastically.
She had demanded to come along, and since leaving her at home alone wasn’t an option, she marched ahead, pointing at the dingy, worn sign of the Leaky Cauldron that only she and Aegeus could perceive.
The family stepped inside.
The pub was dark and reeked of old ale.
Conversations momentarily lulled as the regulars glanced toward the entrance.
Sensing the incoming scrutiny, Aegeus swiftly stepped behind Hermione and crouched, attempting to duck his face behind her giant, bushy cloud of hair.
Naturally, Hermione was not pleased with being used as a human curtain and immediately dodged out of the way.
The moment his face was exposed, the pub went silent for a moment.
An old witch in the corner dropped her long pipe straight onto the floor.
Half the patrons holding pint glasses froze mid-sip, a few letting their drinks slip right through their fingers before an unnecessarily loud wave of whispering erupted across the room.
‘These people are utterly dramatic,’ Aegeus thought, rolling his eyes. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
“Merlin’s beard… look at him,” the old bartender muttered, his eyes wide.
“Is he a Veela?!” a half-drunken wizard near the counter blurted out.
“Stupid old fool, there’s no such thing as a male Veela,” the witch next to him scolded, smacking his arm.
“Then maybe it’s a girl dressed as a boy!” the drunk guy declared, looking thoroughly enlightened.
Alright, that’s enough of this, Aegeus thought.
Ignoring the murmurs, he marched directly over to the bar.
The old, somewhat bald bartender looked exactly as McGonagall had described him to be.
Without waiting for an introduction, Aegeus grabbed Tom by the sleeve and began dragging him toward the back exit, his amused family trailing behind him.
“Open it,” said Aegeus, pointing at a wall.
“W-what?” the poor bartender stammered, utterly baffled.
“The entrance to Diagon Alley,” Aegeus clarified.
*SMACK.*
“Aegeus!” Jean scolded, swatting the back of his head.
“Ow,” he muttered, rubbing his head.
Jean stepped forward, offering the bartender an apologetic smile.
“Can you please open the entrance for us? We’re new here… And I am deeply sorry for my son’s rude behavior,” she added, shooting Aegeus a stern glare.
“Ah! First-timers!” The bartender’s face lit up with understanding, unoffended and looking thoroughly amused instead.
“No trouble at all, ma’am. Right this way.”
Taking out his wand, the bartender tapped a specific sequence of bricks on the wall, seemingly made at random.
Almost instantly, the stone began to shift, twist, and fold outward, revealing an archway into a bustling, vibrant street filled with magical shops.
After thanking him, the Grangers stepped through the archway to meet Professor McGonagall.
She was already waiting near the entrance alongside three other Muggle-born families— all of whom were staring around at the enchanted floating signs and magical displays with wide, astonished eyes, pointing at everything.
“Mr. Granger. Right on time,” she said, her sharp eyes sweeping over the group.
“Now that everyone has arrived, we shall proceed directly to Gringotts Wizarding Bank to exchange your currency.”
As the group began walking down the cobbled street, Aegeus’s [Minimap] immediately expanded, registering every moving stall and narrow alleyway within a one-kilometer radius.
Streams of spatial data flooded his mind— calculating structural load-bearings of the leaning buildings, tracking crowd densities, and mapping potential escape routes automatically.
The architecture in this place defied basic physics, Aegeus noted, watching an impossibly tall building lean at a forty-five-degree angle without collapsing.
Either the structural integrity of these bricks is being reinforced by constant passive magic, or the concept of gravity itself was simply being politely requested to look the other way.
Beside him, Hermione was practically bouncing on her heels, her head spinning in every direction.
“Aegeus, look! That shop sells cauldrons made of solid gold! And over there— those brooms are floating on their own!”
Along the way, they passed a long stretch of bizarre shops selling all sorts of random items— from cages squawking with bats and screeching mice to a window display selling earmuffs.
Perhaps the most bizarre of all was a shop dedicated entirely to animal bones.
The entire exterior was decorated with polished skulls, ribs, and vertebrae.
Aegeus stared at it for a moment, wondering what possible magical properties raw skeletal remains provided to justify an entire shop.
Ahead of them, a towering snow-white marble building dominated the street.
Standing beside its polished bronze doors was a small creature clad in a scarlet and gold uniform.
A goblin, Aegeus observed.
His [Earth Sense] flared the moment his boots stepped onto the marble stairs of Gringotts.
Instantly, a detailed layout of the subterranean tunnels beneath the bank flashed in his mind— veins of raw silver, deep underground waterfalls, and subterranean chambers extending miles beneath the surface of London.
_________________________________________________________________________
TO BE CONTINUED
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