Because Grandfather Londo was a Squib, no professor would come to Leonard's home to deliver the Hogwarts letter in person.
Professors had to travel across the country to introduce Muggle families to the wizarding world, even persuading those who refused to believe in magic that a Hogwarts acceptance letter was not some cruel prank. After all, eleven was the age children normally entered secondary school, and no Muggle family would gamble their child's future on a school they weren't sure even existed.
The William household had no such trouble. Although Londo was a Squib, he was familiar with the wizarding world and unaffected by the Muggle-Repelling Charm, so he could take Leonard to Diagon Alley himself to buy the supplies.
...
Early the next morning, Leonard was woken by his grandfather's impatient knocking.
"Get up, you lazy brat! Planning to sleep until the sun's roasting your back?"
Leonard dragged himself upright, glancing at the old pocket watch on his nightstand. The heavy hand had only just reached six.
"It's barely six o'clock," he grumbled loudly.
"We have to get to London! That'll take hours!" Londo barked. "Pack your bags—move it!"
Rubbing his face, Leonard stumbled out of bed and opened the door.
Londo was pacing in the hallway like his clothes were on fire. Though Leonard was the one about to start school, his grandfather looked more worked up than if he were the one enrolling.
"Hurry up, boy! We've got to catch the train from town. Once we reach London, we're heading straight for the Leaky Cauldron. I won't waste another second in the middle of those Muggles!"
He practically shouted it, his spirits unnervingly high. It was clear he hadn't slept at all, and though he reeked of alcohol, there was not a trace of exhaustion on him.
Leonard had barely finished washing up when Londo shoved a sandwich into his hands, then hauled him out the door in a rush.
The Cotswolds, being a well-known tourist destination, had convenient transportation links. Even so, London was a long way off. By the time the two arrived at Charing Cross Road, where the Leaky Cauldron stood, it was already past two in the afternoon.
Londo flatly refused to stop for food, dragging a hungry Leonard straight into the Leaky Cauldron instead.
True to its name, the Leaky Cauldron was old and shabby, and its owner looked just as worn. The pub was larger than Leonard had imagined, but its atmosphere felt strange and heavy.
Londo, however, entered as if stepping into a cathedral, his eyes glowing with awe.
Leonard, for his part, failed to see how wizards eating bean stew in a dingy pub were any more noble than the Muggles outside.
Once inside, Londo grew unusually energetic. After arranging with the barkeep, Tom, to leave their luggage there, he eagerly asked him to open the wall to Diagon Alley.
He then led Leonard directly to Gringotts. After exchanging a hundred Galleons, they went straight to Ollivander's Wand Shop on the same street.
Leonard would have preferred to visit the shops selling fresh magical plants first, but he couldn't argue against Londo, who was dead set on getting a wand immediately.
...
"Jingle..."
The bell above the door chimed as they stepped inside. Shelves upon shelves were stacked with neatly boxed wands, making Londo's eyes go red with emotion.
"Welcome," said a gray-haired old man, peering out from behind a shelf at the pair.
"Good day, sir. We're here to select a wand," Londo said quickly, his tone almost fawning.
"Oh no, no. You don't choose a wand. The wand chooses its master," the gray-haired man corrected sternly.
Londo flinched, looking uneasy. "S-sorry... I was being too shallow," he stammered.
His overreaction startled the old man.
"It's not that serious. That's just how I see it," the man replied with a helpless smile. "I'm Garrick Ollivander, the owner of this shop."
He turned his gaze on Leonard. "New student at Hogwarts?"
"Yes," Leonard nodded.
"What's your name?"
Ollivander pulled out a thick, worn notebook.
"Leonard. Leonard William."
Adjusting his reading glasses, Ollivander searched through the pages. "Hmm... let's see. No William in the last generation. Are you from a Muggle family?"
"Uh..." Leonard glanced at Londo, ready to answer, but his grandfather spoke first.
"That's right," Londo said. "This child's parents were Muggles. I'm his grandfather, and I... I am a Muggle too."
In the wizarding world, Squibs were ranked even lower than Muggles. The latter were merely outsiders, but the former were considered a disgrace to wizarding bloodlines.
"Hahaha, that's nothing to worry about. As long as you have the talent, you're a wizard all the same. Your background doesn't matter."
Ollivander chuckled, jotting down Leonard's name in the notebook. "Let's take some measurements, and then we'll find the wand that suits you."