Charing Cross Road is located in the heart of London, between Oxford Street and Trafalgar Square. Dozens of bookstores line the street, the busiest of which is Foyles' flagship bookstore, located diagonally across from 84 Charing Cross Road.
Melvin looked up at the vibrant red sign, then looked away and opened the door.
Although it could be called a bookstore, it was more like a shopping center, with five floors and over 2,800 square meters. It is said to have more than 200,000 titles, and all the shelves could connect to extend along the street.
There was a section dedicated to Shakespeare's works, while Beethoven's music occupied two walls, along with vinyl records and various gift items.
On the second floor, there was a café, with a delicate aroma lingering in the air.
Sunlight filtered through the glass walls, complementing the warm carpet and carefully arranged décor, creating a cozy atmosphere. The thick carpet seemed to prevent footsteps from disturbing the readers, like the hunchbacked witch by the window.
The witch, nearly two hundred years old, was completely aged: she had a stooped back, a face wrinkled like a spiderweb, hair meticulously combed, and her head bowed while reading.
Learning becomes a struggle with age.
Faced with an entirely new body of knowledge, years of accumulated experience were not only useless but sometimes even became an overwhelming obstacle.
She went over unknown words and phrases, having to mentally reread them several times before grasping their meaning. Understanding was not enough; she had to abandon her magical mindset and consider them from a Muggle perspective to acquire new knowledge.
Masses of land separated by vast oceans could merge, the ground beneath her feet constantly shifted...
The lightning streaking across the sky was completely different from the lightning used by Muggles...
The old witch had to completely abandon the magic she had learned in the first half of her life to glimpse a sliver of scientific knowledge. But even this small glimpse brought the nearly two-hundred-year-old witch a childlike joy, and from time to time, when seeing something fascinating, her clouded eyes would light up.
Melvin approached, quickening his pace slightly. His hard-soled leather shoes made a faint but unmistakable sound, and a transparent spell extended.
"Here."
Griselda Marchbank, absorbed in her reading, looked up, her fine wrinkles softened, and she smiled sweetly. "Professor Lewynter."
Melvin glanced at the book title; it was the textbook he had recently chosen, the DK Children's Encyclopedia.
"Sorry, breakfast will be delayed ten minutes while we wait for freshly baked bread."
Melvin sat across from her, speaking louder than usual, even for the old wizard with hearing problems, though the sound stayed just a few meters away, unable to propagate. "You can also call me by my name, madam."
—You really look like young Dumbledore —said
Mrs. Marchbank, noticing the magical barrier around him, laughing softly but without specifying the similarities.
She closed the book indifferently—: "The book you recommended is very good. The people at the Examining Authority are reading it. I must say this book is very comprehensive, as its name suggests: Encyclopedia. One must admit that the knowledge these Muggle children read is something most adult wizards will never know in their lifetime. This knowledge not only helps us understand Muggles correctly but also helps us understand the world correctly." —"That
is exactly what I hope for."
Melvin said slowly: "Natural sciences are the wizards' equivalent of a Muggle wand. In my opinion, after science dispelled ignorance, its success in the past two hundred years of development has surpassed that of the past thousands of years. Unprecedented changes are coming. Wizards can no longer confine themselves to their own lives as before. They must correctly understand the relationship between the magical community and the world and explore entirely new paths."
"Unfortunately, science cannot dispel the ignorance and stubbornness of wizards," Marchbanks sighed, caressing the book cover with her thin fingers. "When the Ministry of Magic learned that you were going to use Muggle books as teaching materials, they began causing trouble again. Those purebloods were always restless and clamoring to summon the Wizengamot to reconsider the matter."
"New things always bring controversy."
"The old ones of us do not have the energy to bother with them."
Marchbanks shook her head; her right hand trembled as she put it into her shirt pocket, pulling out an appointment letter that far exceeded her size. "Tofty, the old man who sat beside me the other day, is the Deputy Director of Administration; he spoke with me and decided to hire you as a Special Advisor of the Examining Authority, focused on Muggle Studies reform."
"..."
Melvin paused. "How about the salary?"
Marchbanks paused, looking at him. Her slightly hoarse voice resonated just inches away. "No salary, only responsibilities. You will have to record your class content, write detailed lesson plans, and log student feedback. However, the knowledge points you record will become the test points for Muggle Studies. For decades, even centuries, your lesson plans will serve as curriculum... In short, you will establish the standards for this subject."
"It's a thankless job."
"Yes."
"But I want to try."
The job was not as bad as Marchbanks had painted. No salary did not mean no reward.
And for Melvin, the rewards were quite generous.
Since its foundation in the 15th century, the Magical Examining Authority had grown into a professional organization with extensive resources.
The Authority comprises multiple departments responsible for all aspects of magical examinations, including grade review, independent question formulation, and exam supervision... An institution capable of setting standards and judging other wizards had accumulated increasing influence over the past five hundred years.
This influence was exactly what Melvin needed.
For the following hours, both discussed detailed teaching plans, and only at sunset did Melvin bid farewell.
...
The bookstore opened in the afternoons.
Mrs. Marchbank remained seated by the café window, her encyclopedia open before her, her kindly expression contemplating the street, as if admiring the scenery.
According to Authority rules, wizards appointed as Special Advisors are retired teachers. The last advisor to break the age record was fifty when appointed.
This exceptional appointment was motivated by the subtle instigation of Dumbledore, as well as the desire for change among these elders.
Normally, Special Advisors do not have the power to set teaching standards. Expert panels are usually formed, with constant additions, deletions, and revisions, often requiring decades of negotiation before reaching a conclusion. The review of Muggle Studies curriculum began about ten years ago, more or less influenced by the Wizarding War and You-Know-Who.
The hundreds of thousands of words compiled by these old scholars were thrown away compared to this encyclopedia. The
old witch's eyes reflected the passing traffic, the dim streetlights on both sides of the road, and the figure walking briskly on the sidewalk.
She was truly young
...
Communicating with Mrs. Marchbanks, answering questions from the Ministry of Magic, adapting to life in London, adapting to the local accent and strange magical jargon, researching the future of art... It was already late July when I returned to Diagon Alley.
The streets were full of students and parents shopping for back-to-school supplies.
Melvin was outside the stationery shop, needing to buy a revealing potion.
This potion could animate photos into videos—images without sound. Duration and frame rate varied depending on the potion's quality. Poor quality produced a two-to-three-second mosaic, while good quality produced half a minute of standard definition.
The ingredients were not scarce and the steps were not complicated, but it consumed much time and labor, making it difficult to sell at a high price.
Expert potion masters did not waste time on such things, so revealing potions on the market were generally of inferior quality. Melvin had no choice but to try his luck.
"Welcome to the Transfiguration Ink Stationery. How may I help you, sir?"
"Do you have revealing potions?"
"Of course, sir!"
The clerk's eyes lit up at the mention of revealing potions. Who among common wizards would bother taking photographs? He quickly pulled out several bottles of brew. "This takes two seconds, only 19 knuts per pint. This takes four seconds, only 1 sickle and 17 knuts per pint. This takes 10 seconds, only 3 sickles and 7 knuts per pint!"
"..."
The prices were equal in whole and small amounts.
Melvin squinted.
Such a distorted exchange rate must have been made by Gringotts goblins when drunk.
"Sir, which one do you need?"
Melvin rubbed his forehead. "Do you have a longer development time?"
"I need even more," said the surprised clerk. "Sir, you know the properties of revealing potions. I must explain in advance that the longer the development time, the more expensive it is. And each extra second doubles the price."
"Let me see it first,"
said Melvin hesitantly. He made a rough calculation. A 90-minute film, even if meticulous and requiring no editing, according to the clerk's method...
By the time he calculated how many Diagon Alleys could be bought with three sickles and seven knuts multiplied by two to the power of 5400, the clerk had already taken out the highest-quality revealing potion in the shop.
"Handmade by master potioner Damocles Belby, it takes a whopping 23 seconds to develop. 1,600 Galleons." The clerk's smile was particularly cordial.
"..."
Melvin was moved.
He even rounded up the difference.
After a few seconds of silence, Melvin exchanged glances with the clerk and finally bought some cheap pints. As for Belby's bottle, it was the shop's most treasured possession, and Melvin felt it should stay.
"I would like to develop photographs for two hours. Any suggestions?"
The clerk, knowing the potion would be hard to sell, stood firm. "Sir, you mean Muggle videos, right?"
"You know that?"
"I am a half-blood wizard, and my mother is a Muggle."
The clerk quickly put away the potion and turned with a smile. "I suggest you use a Muggle camera. Well-equipped, cheap, and clearer."
Melvin shook his head. "Cameras and projections require electricity..."
Generating, transmitting, and consuming electricity: that is an entire industrial system.
By the time the magical world has electricity, both wizards and Muggles should have entered a new era, probably taking at least a decade.
Seeing his frown, the clerk looked around and whispered, "If you really need it, you can go to Borgin and Burke, next door, in Knockturn Alley."
"Do dark wizards have electricity in Knockturn Alley?" asked Melvin, surprised.
"Even if the Ministry of Magic agrees, those purebloods will not," said the clerk expressionlessly. "I mean, there could be modified cameras next door."
"..."
Melvin left, lost in thought.
Magical modification of Muggle objects is on the edge of the Statute of Secrecy.
It falls under the Office for the Abuse of Magic, in the Department of Public Safety. Under that office is the Office for Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, which used to be a liberal-minded department modifying various technological artifacts, like cars, elevators, and landlines...
But since Umbridge took control, it has become closed and conservative, taking strict action against related practices.
Melvin left the Transforming Ink Stationery and entered a nearby alley, reaching the street in a few minutes.
Before the Statute of Secrecy, magic shops were located inside Muggle markets. Wizards conducted magical business while Muggles conducted ordinary business. Back then, Diagon Alley wasn't even called Diagon Alley.
London, the most prosperous city in Great Britain, boasts this street nestled in the heart of the city, attracting wizards from all over the country. Solitary wizards occasionally came here to buy magical materials, while wizard villages gathered to meet their daily needs. Potion makers crafting rare potions to sell had difficulty finding buyers in those times of limited information, so selling to a potion shop here was their best option.
Sometimes, Muggle merchants also sold grain, oil, and salt in exchange for exquisitely crafted items. For less skilled Muggles, every object here was a valuable piece of art.
After all, it was created through Transfiguration.
Occasionally, legendary treasures could be found, like a sickle that could harvest wheat automatically or a potion that could cure all diseases...
With convenient transport, well-founded information, and a stable supply of goods, Muggle merchants traded here tax-free, and wizards could exchange Transfiguration artifacts for gold and gems. As word spread among caravans and wizards, the place's fame grew.
At that time, the British Royal Family still employed wizards as court assistants, and the Ministry of Magic and the Royal Family had a tacit agreement. With this tacit agreement, a renowned magical market emerged in central London.
Many pureblood families, including the Malfoys, amassed incredible wealth during this period, acquiring lands and building their fortunes. That was
until the Statute of Secrecy was enacted.
In just three hundred years, everything changed. Muggle and wizard shops separated completely, and wizards who previously traded with Muggles became pureblood families who despised them. The bustling city disintegrated, dividing into two lanes. The
Diagon Alley is a spacious and open street, supervised by the Ministry of Magic. Aurors regularly patrol to ensure the personal and property safety of customers and merchants. All products are legal and comply with regulations, and there are no Muggle-related items.
Knockturn Alley was also legal and compliant at first, but the paths here are rugged, alleys intertwine with alleys, corners connect with corners, the environment is complex, and visibility is limited. Not to mention the safety of merchants and customers; even aurors cannot guarantee their own safety when alone. Gradually, the Ministry of Magic ignored this place.
Without strict rules and restrictions, wild growth always leads to strange things.
Borgin and Burke's is one such place. Obviously, it is a place to buy and sell dark magic items, but due to its reputation, it has received praise from a group of dark wizards and gradually gained renown, becoming a permanent fixture in Knockturn Alley.