Quirinus Quirrell had been carefully keeping his distance from Harry until the crowd's excitement faded. Only then did he step forward to greet him.
Thanks to Quirrell's presence, the moment he refused to shake Harry's hand served as a splash of cold water—snapping Harry out of his vanity.
Hagrid, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as observant. He didn't notice the subtle changes in Harry's expression at all. After introducing Professor Quirrell, he simply led Harry and the Wilsons to the back door of the pub.
"Harry, Louis, remember this: next time you want to enter Diagon Alley, just tap three times on the bricks around the second one from the middle—right above that bin over there. Like this."
Hagrid raised his pink umbrella and demonstrated. As he tapped, the bricks in the wall came alive, rotating and shifting aside until a hidden street appeared behind them.
The timeworn street bustled with activity. Wizards in pointed hats and long robes walked between crooked buildings, shopping along the winding road. This magical scene instantly satisfied the curiosity of both Mr. Wilson and Harry Potter.
Many of the wizards didn't enter via the Leaky Cauldron at all. Instead, they seemed to appear from nowhere—stepping out of the fireplaces lining the alleyway. These hearths seemed endless, and every so often a wizard in robes would emerge from one.
Mr. Wilson was utterly fascinated by the fireplaces scattered at the corners of the street. If Louis hadn't tugged at his arm, he might've climbed into one just to see where it led.
"Those are Floo Powder fireplaces," Hagrid explained. "They're specially designed for wizarding families to travel quickly—no matter how far away they live, they can get here in a flash."
Hagrid guided the group down the street. The shops on either side constantly drew their attention. Louis had seen similar scenes in the movies in his past life, but being here in person was an entirely different experience.
"We're headed to that… um, Gringotts, right?" Mr. Wilson asked after snapping out of his amazement at the strange items being sold at the street stalls.
"That's right," Hagrid said. "Harry needs to retrieve the inheritance left by his parents. And you'll need to exchange some Galleons—that's wizard money."
"What's the exchange rate?" Mr. Wilson asked.
"I'm not too sure," said Hagrid. "You'll have to ask the goblins about that."
They entered the crooked, towering doors of Gringotts. Mr. Wilson approached a goblin with a proud, aloof expression and asked his question.
"Five pounds for one Galleon," the goblin rasped. "Exchange limited to 100 Galleons, and only available to new Hogwarts students."
"How about exchanging Galleons back to pounds?" Louis asked curiously.
"Same rate. No limit."
"Oh, seems the wizarding world has a lot of confidence in its currency," Mr. Wilson said as he pulled out his wallet.
"Wizards can solve most things with magic, so Muggle money doesn't hold much use here," Hagrid added. "Alright, we'll be parting ways here for now."
"You're taking Harry to his family vault, right?" Louis asked.
"Not just that. I've got some important business of my own—but it's all very top-secret," Hagrid said in his usual booming voice, attempting to whisper.
Louis's eyelid twitched. Dumbledore sure has some nerve, trusting you with something this important.
Of course, Louis already knew what Hagrid was doing—retrieving the Philosopher's Stone from the Gringotts vault. That magical artifact could turn anything into gold and create the Elixir of Life.
Quirinus Quirrell was after that very stone. It wouldn't be long before he tried to steal it—but he'd fail because Hagrid would already have taken it.
Tough luck for the villain.
"No worries, Hagrid. We'll wait here. After all, we don't even know what we're supposed to buy yet," Louis said. "You know, I never received a Hogwarts acceptance letter."
"Alright, just wait outside a bit. Won't be long," Hagrid nodded, then took Harry and headed toward one of the deeper vault counters in Gringotts.
Mr. Wilson led Louis out of the bank and into the bustling street to wait for Hagrid and Harry.
Though Mr. Wilson continued to marvel at the surrounding sights, Louis had moved beyond the surface charm of the wizarding world. What had begun as mere curiosity was already evolving into something deeper—he was starting to see through the dazzling veneer of magic to the true nature beneath it.
"To be honest, son, this place isn't suited for magicians like us," Mr. Wilson said.
"Why? Because real magic is more wondrous and foolproof than stage magic?" Louis asked.
"No. While a magician relies on wonder to capture attention, we rarely perform the same trick twice in the same place—because that makes it far easier for others to figure it out."
Mr. Wilson's voice was thoughtful. "For a magician, stagnation is the greatest enemy of all."
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