As a kind-hearted master, Leon didn't actually ride Tom the parrot all the way to London.
Not because he was worried about crashing, of course.
After leaving the village, Leon summoned Kreacher to pick them up and crashed for a quick nap at the old Black family house.
A few hours later, after scarfing down Kreacher's lovingly prepared breakfast and leaving a still-snoozing Tom behind, Leon set off alone from 12 Grimmauld Place.
Though he often teased Maeve for being paranoid, good boy Leon still followed his mum's advice. Bright and early, he headed to Diagon Alley to pick up his school supplies.
West End, London, Westminster, Charing Cross Road.
This was Leon's first time stepping into the infamous Leaky Cauldron, the well-known haunt of British wizards.
Usually, he'd zip straight to Diagon Alley through the fireplace at home, landing in a little shop selling divination supplies, or Kreacher would Apparate him to a specific spot on the street.
As a famous wizarding landmark, the Leaky Cauldron was, frankly, a bit too grimy and rundown for Leon's taste.
He breezed through the bar like a gust of wind.
The landlord, old Tom, blinked and muttered to himself, "What in blazes was that? Zoomed by like a Snitch!"
"Phew…"
Out in the pub's back courtyard, Leon finally felt like he could breathe again.
Then he saw it: a battered old rubbish bin and a moss-covered brick wall.
Leon froze.
Wasn't he supposed to tap a brick to open the entrance? Which one was it again?
Without a wand, would he have to use his bare hands?
Should he put on gloves first?
As he stood there deliberating, a clear, bright voice called out from behind.
"Are you a Hogwarts first-year? Don't know how to get into Diagon Alley?"
Leon turned to see a girl with thick, bushy brown hair.
She was a tad shorter than him, tilting her head slightly to meet his gaze.
Her prominent front teeth somehow made her presence even more striking.
"Yeah, I got my Hogwarts letter," Leon replied, quick on his feet.
"The professor who was supposed to guide me—Sybill Trelawney, she said she teaches Divination—ditched me the second we got to the pub. Said she needed a drink or two and told me to figure out my shopping on my own. I haven't a clue how to get into Diagon Alley."
His voice dripped with mock grievance.
"Don't worry, I've got you," the girl said, her tone full of empathy.
She gestured to her parents behind her. "I'm Hermione Granger, a year above you. I'm Muggle-born too—my parents don't know any magic."
Hermione assumed this Muggle-born newbie was being targeted by some prejudiced professor and instantly felt a connection.
"Come on, I'll show you the way."
She pulled out her wand and tapped a brick just above the rubbish bin three times.
The wall began to tremble violently.
Starting from the brick Hermione had tapped, it shuddered and shifted, collapsing and sliding apart to reveal a wide archway, big enough for a two-way street.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley!"
Hermione pointed to the long cobblestone street lined with bustling, quirky shops, flashing a brilliant smile.
You had to admit, entering Diagon Alley from this spot really showcased the wonder and awe of the magical world.
Leon let out an exaggerated "Wow!"
He spun his head around, gawking like a curious first-timer, taking in every odd magical trinket and bauble.
"This is the wizarding world? It's incredible! So magical!"
Leon played the part of a wide-eyed newcomer to perfection.
"Thank you so much, Hermione!"
His eyes sparkled as he beamed at her, his smile utterly genuine. "I'd have been totally lost without you! Oh, I'm Leon, by the way. Leon Green."
He held out his hand.
"Can we be friends? I've got loads of questions, and I'd love to keep asking you for help!"
Hermione was momentarily dazzled by his smile, a strange thought popping into her head: With a face like that, he'd probably look good even picking his nose…
"Er, sorry, I mean, of course, Leon, um, we're friends now," she stammered, shaking his hand and quickly changing the subject to hide her embarrassment.
"Do you have your supply list? The one that came with your Hogwarts letter, second page?"
"Oh, yeah, got it right here."
Leon fished out the first-year essentials list from his pocket and rattled it off:
"Work robes, pointed hat, protective gloves, cloak, cauldron, telescope, brass scales, crystal phials…"
He took a deep breath and waved his hands dramatically. "And a whole stack of textbooks this long!"
To be fair, it wasn't that exaggerated.
Thanks to Gilderoy Lockhart, this year's first-years had to buy way more books than usual.
"So, how do I even start getting all this stuff? Do wizards use pounds too?"
Leon and Hermione strolled side by side through the busy wizarding street, with the Grangers trailing quietly behind, happy to let their daughter take the lead.
Hermione pulled out her own book list, tilting her head to compare it with Leon's.
"Wow, you've got to buy all those Gilderoy Lockhart books too!"
Her eyes lit up at the mention of books.
"I bet this Gilderoy Lockhart is absolutely brilliant to have so many of his books on the Hogwarts reading list! I can't wait to get to Flourish and Blotts to check them out!"
She caught Leon's puzzled look and realized she'd gone off on a tangent.
This poor newbie still needed her help.
"Here's the deal: you can't just go buy the books yet. Did you bring enough pounds? You'll need to go there first."
She pointed to a grand, towering white marble building that stood out among the shops.
"Gringotts Wizarding Bank. That's where we exchange pounds for wizard money—Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts."
Hermione made a face. "Can you believe it? The wizarding currency system is practically medieval. Not only is it not decimal, but it's 1 Galleon to 17 Sickles, and 1 Sickle to 29 Knuts!"
She rolled her eyes adorably.
"And in most of the wizarding world, you can't even use electronics. I have no idea how wizards manage without calculators."
Leon shot her a surprised glance. This ridiculous exchange rate is straight out of your dear old Britain, isn't it?
The 1 pound to 100 pence system had only been around for, what, less than 20 years?
And with the average Brit's math skills, was she sure a calculator would even help?
Maybe it was because Hermione's best mates—Ron, from a pure-blood wizarding family, and Harry, who grew up in a warped Muggle environment with little in common with her—didn't give her much chance to chat about Muggle life.
She didn't know many other Muggle-born witches or wizards either.
So all her thoughts and frustrations had been bottled up with no one to share them with.
Today, she'd finally met someone with a similar background, who was also so… nice-looking. Er, friendly.
Hermione, always eager to teach, found herself enjoying explaining wizarding basics to Leon while indulging in a bit of venting.
From the absurd wizarding currency to their questionable fashion sense and bizarre logic, she let it all out in one glorious rant.
Only when she snapped out of it did she realize she might've badmouthed the wizarding world a bit too much.
Mortified, she groaned.
"Oh, Leon, don't listen to me! I didn't mean it like that. Well, I mean, it's not exactly wrong, but—ugh, I'm not lying, just…"
For once, the usually eloquent Hermione was at a loss for words, her face flushing red and beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
Leon gave her a gentle smile, his clear voice like a cool summer breeze, soothing her frazzled nerves.
"It's okay, I get it.
"You love something so much that you can't help but point out its flaws.
"Your gripes about the little details don't come from dislike—they come from noticing the imperfections that keep it from being the perfect world you imagine.
"You want every corner of the wizarding world to be flawless.
"Because you love magic.
"You're completely in love with this incredible, magical world."
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