In front of a dilapidated building with an old sign reading The Leaky Cauldron, Dumbledore stepped forward, his wooden wand faintly gleaming under the morning sunlight. Behind him, Larry Potter and Hermione walked side by side, their hands still linked after the dizzying journey through a Portkey. McGonagall and Mr. and Mrs. Granger followed, their eyes filled with awe and a touch of confusion.
"Come along, children, follow me," Dumbledore said, his voice warm yet commanding, as he pushed open the creaking wooden door.
Larry and Hermione hurried after him, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Granger and McGonagall. Upon entering the pub, the scent of old ale and damp wood greeted them, along with the curious gazes of the patrons. Worn wooden tables were crowded with oddly robed people, some holding glasses of drinks that emitted colorful wisps of smoke.
"Professor Dumbledore!" someone called from a corner of the pub, their voice brimming with shock and admiration.
"That's him! And Professor McGonagall!" another whispered, causing the room to hum like a disturbed beehive.
Dumbledore merely smiled, nodding politely to the onlookers, as if accustomed to being the center of attention. He wove through the crowd, leading the small group toward the back courtyard, where an old brick wall stood firm under the dim sunlight.
Larry stared at the wall, his bright green eyes, like spring leaves, sparkling with curiosity. He knew what lay beyond it—the gateway to a world he had only imagined. 'Diagon Alley,' he thought, his heart racing. 'If I could charm the orphanage, what can I do here?'
"This is the entrance," Dumbledore said, winking with a hint of unexpected mischief. "Watch closely. Count three bricks up from the trash can, then two to the side…"
As he spoke, his wand moved in a graceful arc, and the brick wall trembled, like ripples on a lake's surface. The bricks shifted, forming a large archway leading to a bustling cobblestone street.
Larry glanced at the trash can in the corner of the courtyard, a mischievous idea sparking in his mind. 'If I moved this can, would other wizards get lost?' He nearly chuckled, but suddenly felt a gentle tug at his sleeve.
"Larry," Hermione muttered, her brown eyes glaring as if she could read his thoughts. "Don't start."
Larry turned, catching the half-annoyed, half-amused expression on Hermione's face.
"What? I wasn't doing anything," Larry said, touching his nose with a sheepish grin that made Hermione shake her head.
"Let's go," Dumbledore said, smiling as he stepped through the archway. McGonagall followed, then Larry, Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger.
As they passed through, the world transformed. The cobblestone street was lined with shops, their glass windows displaying bizarre items: cauldrons that stirred themselves, books that growled softly, even brooms hovering inches off the ground. Witches and young wizards bustled about, some with owls perched on their shoulders, others dragging stacks of fluttering parchment.
"Good heavens, this place is incredible!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed, her eyes widening as she saw a newspaper folding itself in a shop window.
"It's the shopping haven of the wizarding world," Dumbledore explained, his voice tinged with pride. "We'll head to the bank first to exchange money, then to the bookstore for schoolbooks."
Mr. Granger nodded. "Pounds can be exchanged, right?" he asked, his hand reaching into his pocket to check his wallet.
"Of course," Dumbledore replied. "And gold is accepted too, if you have any." He led the way, the small group trailing behind.
Larry looked around, his eyes soaking in every detail—the faded wooden signs, the scent of gingerbread from a sweet shop, the lively haggling in the air. 'This is real,' he thought, his breath catching with excitement. 'Not a movie, not a dream. The wizarding world, and I'm here.'
"Larry!" Hermione's voice snapped him out of his reverie, her tone a mix of curiosity and mild annoyance. "You're daydreaming again. We're here."
Larry turned, realizing they stood before a grand white building towering at the street's end. Marble pillars flanked a large bronze door, where a small creature in a red-and-gold uniform bowed politely as they approached.
"The wizarding bank," Dumbledore said, opening the bronze door. "Stay close, children."
They stepped through a second door, this one gleaming silver, with words engraved on its surface: Enter, but beware. Greed will be punished, and thieves will meet a dire fate. Larry read the inscription, his eyebrows rising. 'Nice threat,' he thought, chuckling inwardly. 'But it doesn't seem to stop a certain noseless guy in the future.'
Inside, a vast hall stretched out, filled with hundreds of small creatures with pointed ears and sharp eyes. They were busy weighing gold coins, inspecting gems with magnifying glasses, or scribbling in thick ledgers. The clink of coins and rustle of parchment filled the air, creating a symphony of wealth.
"Busy place," Mr. Granger muttered, rubbing his neck as he scanned the crowd.
"It's the financial hub of the wizarding world," Dumbledore explained, smiling. "Thousands of transactions daily. Come, let's exchange your money."
He led them to a long counter at the hall's end, where a small creature with bright green eyes peered over a stack of coins.
"Professor Dumbledore," it greeted, its voice raspy yet polite. "What can I do for you?"
"The Granger family needs to exchange some gold coins," Dumbledore said. "And Larry Potter needs to access his vault."
The creature looked up, its eyes narrowing as it studied Larry. "Potter?" it repeated, a thin smile creasing its wrinkled face. "The youngest son of the Potter family. Do you have the key?"
"Of course," Dumbledore replied, producing a small golden key from his robes and handing it over. "This is for Larry Potter's vault."
The creature examined the key carefully, its long fingers tracing the gold surface.
"Correct," it said, nodding. "The Potter family vault."
Larry's heart beat faster. 'A vault?' he thought, his eyes gleaming. 'James and Lily left treasure for Harry… and I have a share too? This is better than I imagined!' He felt a small spark in his chest, a sign of mysterious points from his strange system ticking up—perhaps from Hermione's awed glance or the creature's polite smile.
The creature exchanged a hundred gold coins for Mr. and Mrs. Granger, handing over a neat stack of gleaming coins in a leather pouch. Then it stepped out from behind the counter.
"Follow me, Larry," it said, glancing at him. "And the rest of you."
They followed the creature through the bustling hall, down a narrow corridor lit by torches. The air grew cooler, the scent of damp stone replacing the aroma of coins. The corridor led to a small railway, where a metal cart waited, swaying gently as if alive.
"Get in," the creature said, leaping into the cart with surprising agility.
Larry helped Hermione climb in, his hand brushing her arm briefly, enough to make her give a small smile.
"Hold on tight," the creature added, and the cart shot into the darkness.
Wind roared in their ears as the cart sped through the tunnels, banking sharply and plunging downward. Hermione gripped Larry's arm, a small yelp escaping her lips.
"This is insane!" Hermione shouted, but there was laughter in her voice.
Larry chuckled, bracing himself to keep from enjoying the thrill too much. 'If this is just the trip to the vault,' he thought, 'what else is waiting at Hogwarts?'