"Albert, are you sure we haven't taken a wrong turn?" Herb was studying the map in his hand, but he couldn't find the pub Professor McGonagall had mentioned.
"We need to find the bookstore first. The record shop is next door," Albert said, pointing to the large bookstore ahead. Sure enough, there was a record shop beside it.
"Is this it? But I..."
"...can't see the pub?" Albert finished his sentence.
If he hadn't been looking for it specifically, he never would have noticed the small pub tucked beside the bookstore. The hurried passersby didn't even glance at it, including his father, Herb.
"I see the pub now. Remember what Professor McGonagall said?"
"Muggles can't find it?" Herb muttered. "I hate that word, Muggle."
Herb took his son's hand, and Albert pulled him forward. A few seconds later, they spotted the legendary Leaky Cauldron—a dingy, cramped pub.
"I hate this place. It's too dirty."
"Me too. Let's go in!"
Herb and Albert pushed open the door of the Leaky Cauldron, entering one after the other.
Dirty, chaotic, and dark.
That was their assessment of the bar. Inside sat a collection of peculiar-looking men and women, mostly elderly, wearing ridiculous top hats that made them appear utterly comical.
If these people were walking down the street, they would undoubtedly draw countless stares. Yet here, they seemed even more out of place, shining like a single flame in the darkness.
Herb quickly regained his composure and approached the counter. He tentatively asked the bald old man behind it, "Mr. Tom?"
"A wizard from a Muggle family?" Tom scrutinized Albert before smiling at Herb. "You want to know how to get to Diagon Alley?"
"Yes, Mr. Tom. Professor McGonagall said you could take us there," Albert replied, returning the old man's gaze and forcing a polite smile.
"Of course. Follow me," Tom said, stepping out from behind the bar and gesturing for them to follow.
The three of them arrived in the back courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron, where only a brick wall, a trash can, and several empty beer barrels stood.
"This trash can will always be here. Count three bricks up from it, then two to the side—that's the one," Tom said, pointing to the brick he had just tapped. He pulled out his wand and tapped the brick three times. Turning to Albert, he said, "Once you have your own wand, you can open the entrance to Diagon Alley yourself. Remember, three taps with your wand."
The brick Tom had tapped began to tremble. The wall shifted strangely, and a small hole appeared in the middle. The hole widened rapidly, and within seconds, an archway large enough for them to pass through formed before them.
A cobblestone street stretched out before them, lined with shops on either side. Wizards bustled through the street, and vendors hawked their wares from small stalls.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Tom said with a smile.
"Mr. Tom, how will we get back later?" Herb asked.
"Once you've finished your shopping, you can open the door using the same method I just showed you," Tom answered Herb's question patiently, adding, "Oh, and you should probably go to Gringotts first to exchange your Muggle money for Galleons. Muggle currency isn't accepted here. Just walk straight ahead—that white building is Gringotts Wizarding Bank."
"Thank you for the advice, Mr. Tom."
"Have a pleasant day," Tom said with a smile, waving goodbye as he turned back into the Leaky Cauldron. He loved his job.
After Tom left, the entrance vanished, reverting to a solid brick wall.
"Let's go exchange our money," Herb said, taking a deep breath.
"This place feels so different," Albert remarked, gazing at the surrounding shops. "It's like stepping back a century."
"Honestly, I'm starting to doubt whether sending you to Hogwarts was the right decision. Maybe Daisy was right all along," Herb sighed softly. The magical world was fascinating, but it always gave him the unsettling feeling that he was falling behind the times.
"Dad, I don't necessarily have to live in the magical world," Albert said, rolling his eyes. "I'm going to Hogwarts primarily to master this magical power."
"Oh, you're right," Herb replied, his mood improving slightly. They pushed through the crowd toward Gringotts.
As Tom had described, it was a white building with a small figure standing beside the bronze doors—a goblin.
"They're... quite peculiar," Herb said, his face stiff. It was the first time he'd ever seen a humanoid creature that wasn't human.
Albert, however, was unfazed. He studied the goblin's appearance: short stature, pointed beard, long, slender fingers and toes, and a dark, unattractive face. A creature utterly devoid of beauty.
As they entered, Albert noticed the goblin bow respectfully.
Beyond the bronze doors was a second set, made of silver. Inscriptions adorned the two panels. Herb approached and read aloud: "Enter, stranger, but heed this warning: greed's consequences are dire. Those who seek only to take without earning shall face the harshest punishment..."
"I really don't understand," Herb muttered after reading the warning sign. "How many times do wizards have to rob this bank to warrant engraving such a warning on the door?"
Albert stifled a laugh and cleared his throat. "How much money do you plan to exchange?"
"Hmm?" Herb paused, then whispered, "A thousand pounds. If that's not enough, we can always come back for more."
A thousand pounds was equivalent to most people's monthly salary.
Albert estimated it to be roughly two hundred Galleons. He nodded. "That should be sufficient."
Upon entering, two goblins bowed deeply and ushered them into a grand marble hall. Herb announced his intention to exchange pounds for Galleons.
The goblins led them to a counter on the right and handed Herb a piece of parchment detailing the exchange rate between pounds and Galleons, as well as the magical world's monetary system:
* 1 Galleon = 5 pounds
* 1 Galleon = 17 Sickles
* 1 Sickle = 29 Knuts
Herb passed the parchment to his son. "How many pounds do we need for 200 Galleons?"
"£990."
"Please exchange this for 200 Galleons," Herb said, taking the money from his wallet and handing it to the goblin.
"Very well, just a moment," the goblin replied, accepting the pounds and beginning to count them.
"Excuse me, Mr. Goblin, can any amount of Muggle currency be exchanged for Galleons here?" Albert asked, voicing a question that had lingered from his previous life.
"In theory, yes, but we don't accept excessive amounts of Muggle currency," the goblin replied. He rang a small bell, summoning another goblin and giving him an instruction. The second goblin retrieved a bag of gold coins and handed it to Herb, then led them to a side counter to verify the count.
"I didn't expect them to be gold coins," Herb remarked, twirling a Galleon between his fingers.
After confirming the count, the two left Gringotts with their bag of Galleons.
Walking down the sunlit street, the coins in their pockets clinked melodically, as if urging them to spend them quickly.