The Knight Bus, summoned, arrived at the Leaky Cauldron again, where the owner, Old Tom, greeted him warmly.
It was still Room 11.
Anton carefully counted the Galleons in his pocket. "Spending money like water."
This was clearly not a normal lifestyle. The Knight Bus, used for transportation, was expensive. The Leaky Cauldron, though shabby, was the equivalent of staying in a Muggle five-star hotel.
This was the money earned from the Moonlight Turtle's brain! It was
an extremely precious magical material, and very rare. The old wizard would rather eat plain noodles and steamed buns every day than sell it for money.
Anton felt guilty using it, as if Harry Potter had traded the Sword of Gryffindor for Galleons and then lived a life of chauffeured transportation and hotel accommodations.
No!
It was different!
The Sword of Gryffindor belonged to Hogwarts.
But the magical materials belonged to Anton personally.
These were my magical materials. Heartache filled Anton's heart. He beat his chest. He had finally snatched it!
While his Potions skills weren't up to the level of using such high-end ingredients, if he didn't sell them, he could still play with them from time to time.
Of course, he had no other choice now.
Being alive was a blessing.
Now that he had finally escaped the old wizard's clutches and found treatment for Lupin, he could start planning for his future.
Anton made a quick decision without hesitation.
Once Lupin was cured, he'd discuss whether to remain in wizarding society or join the Muggle world. Having someone to look after him would make things easier.
But for now, he should find a place to live and focus on studying the arcane arts.
He knew two spells: the Soul Transference Charm and the Displacement Charm. These weren't suitable for him. Anton remembered the first time he used the Soul Transference Charm, which left him bedridden for two days.
The second time he used it on Lupin, it must have been the "Wizard's Eye" potion that had invisibly replenished his energy.
As the night deepened, the dim oil lamp in the room was barely brighter than the streetlights outside.
Anton stroked the suitcase and fell into deep thought.
He was not penniless, at least he inherited a large fortune from his teacher.
But the problem now was that this thing was too big, and it was not convenient for him to carry it. With his young ten-year-old body dragging a suitcase that was bigger than himself, it was simply telling everyone - come and rob me.
Tomorrow I will go to Diagon Alley to see if there are any small products made of traceless stretching spells. This money is worth spending.
It would be best if it has a ring-shaped storage space like those in fantasy novels, which is particularly good to carry.
After lifting the suitcase onto the bed, Anton found a rope to tie the handle of the suitcase to his arm, and blew out the oil lamp.
...
"I'm sorry, we don't sell it, little wizard." The owner of the Wezeacre Magic Supplies Store pushed his glasses and spread his hands.
Anton said he couldn't understand.
"Your shop is the largest magical item store in all of Diagon Alley!"
the owner smiled. "I'm honored by your kind words."
"But we don't sell them, and you can't possibly buy them."
Anton frowned in confusion. He vaguely remembered that Hermione had made a small wallet with a Transfiguration Charm when she was a student. Was that difficult?
Was he mistaken? Or was this just fan fiction?
What was the original story like?
Seeing Anton standing there, the shop owner couldn't help but point at Anton's suitcase, then gestured to the box on the top shelf on the wall, "What you have in your hand is a classic model from five years ago. The new suitcases now look much more refined, but the appearance and size will not be much different."
As he said, he shrugged, "Apart from suitcases and tents, you won't buy any products with the Untraceable Extension Charm."
"The Ministry of Magic has strict regulations. Apart from these two things, the Untraceable Extension Charm is prohibited from being used for private purposes. Even wizards are not allowed to expand their own houses. After all, hundreds of people coming out of a small house will scare Muggles, and this will seriously violate the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy."
He squinted his nose, as if he thought of something to laugh at, "There's no Knockturn Alley either, you know. Although there are dark wizards in it, they dare not cross the bottom line of the Ministry of Magic."
This is troublesome. Anton walked around the store unwillingly and finally spent money to buy a waist bag.
"Made of dragon hide. These Hebridean black dragons are naturally aggressive, and their hides are highly resistant to spells," the shop owner said, tugging at the waist bag, indicating its sturdiness.
The waist bag was an adult size, and Anton used it as a crossbody bag, slinging it across his chest and concealing it well under his wizard robes.
It could hold more important items, but its limited capacity was a drop in the bucket. Not only could it hold the two bookshelves of materials in the trunk, but even the various potion ingredients wouldn't fit.
"This is a problem,"
Anton said, standing on the main street of Diagon Alley, watching the people passing by, feeling a constant sense of skeptical gaze.
Finally, he looked up and saw an extremely luxurious house at the corner of the alley.
Gringotts.
As the wizarding world's bank, Gringotts didn't offer a savings account.
Saving money there was a bit like opening a safe in a Muggle bank. The goblins didn't care whether you kept money or belongings; as long as you paid the safekeeping fee, you were fine.
Fan fiction and movie clips always give the impression that this place is unsafe, and that greedy goblins might steal from the place.
But Anton could still sense the safety of this place from the lines of the novels.
Dumbledore trusted this place and stored the precious Philosopher's Stone there.
Voldemort also trusted this place and stored the Horcrux of his second life there.
"I hope it's not too expensive." Anton walked over with the box. This large box was too much for him!
The gate of Gringotts faced Diagon Alley. A white stone staircase led to two gleaming bronze doors. Beside the door stood a goblin in a scarlet and gold uniform. He bowed and gestured for him to come in.
The goblin here looked a little different from the Pedro Anton had met before. He had darker skin and a thinner build. Although his clothes were exquisite, he didn't have the same noble air as Pedro.
After entering, he was faced with a silver door with a string of words engraved on it: 'Enter, stranger, but beware of the consequences of greed. ...'
Anton ignored it, presumably a warning, and continued inside, where a clamor of noise washed over him.
The inner hall was large, dominated by dark tones, and illuminated by the chandelier, it had an inexplicable solemnity.
A goblin approached. "What do you want to do?"
"Deposit something," Anton said, patting the box in his hand with a crisp gesture.
When encountering these cunning individuals, the best strategy is to maintain a neutral expression and speak as little as possible, so that no one can guess what you're up to. Even a formidable old wizard roaming the land of chaos maintains this attitude.
The goblin's eyes lit up. "It looks like there's quite a bit in there. You might need a safe."
Anton nodded. "It doesn't need to be too big. I just want a secret safe of my own."
Playing the trick of accidentally letting out ambiguity was a veteran wizard's experience.
The goblin glanced him up and down, gazing particularly at Anton's hair for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Young wizards always want their own safe. After all, no one likes their parents to know what they've secretly stored away."
"That way, you'll have an emergency solution for those occasional solo outings.
"
What did you imagine ?
Anton complained in his heart, with no expression on his face. He nodded and said, "Lead the way."