"Albert, are you absolutely sure we're in the right place?" Herb asked, consulting the map in his hand. He couldn't find the pub Professor McGonagall had mentioned.
"We need to find the bookshop first. Next to it is a record shop," Albert said, pointing ahead.
"This is it? But I..."
"...can't see the pub?" Albert finished his father's sentence.
If Albert hadn't been deliberately looking for it, he would have missed the tiny pub squeezed between the large bookshop and the record store. The people rushing past on the street didn't give it a second glance. That, of course, included his father.
"I can see it now," Albert said. "Remember what Professor McGonagall said?"
"That Muggles can't find it?" Herb muttered. "I really hate that word, 'Muggle'."
Herb took his son's hand, and Albert led him forward. A few seconds later, the legendary pub materialized before Herb's eyes: The Leaky Cauldron.
It was a tiny, filthy-looking place.
"I hate it here. It's so dirty."
"Me too. Let's go in."
Wiping the shared look of disgust from their faces, the father-son pair pushed open the door and entered.
Filthy, messy, and dark.
That was their instant assessment. The pub was filled with several men and women who looked... less than normal. Most were elderly, wearing ridiculous-looking hats that made them appear comical.
If this group had been on a normal street, they would have attracted countless stares. Here, it was Albert and Herb who were the odd ones out, as conspicuous as a flame in the dark.
Herb quickly composed himself, walked to the counter, and tentatively asked the bald, toothless old man, "Mr. Tom?"
"A little wizard from a Muggle family?" Tom the bartender sized up Albert before turning to Herb with a grin. "Looking for the way to Diagon Alley, are we?"
"Yes, Mr. Tom. Professor McGonagall said you could show us the way," Albert replied, studying the old man while forcing a polite smile.
"Of course. Follow me." Tom came out from behind the bar and gestured for them to follow.
The three of them went into the pub's small, walled backyard. There was nothing there but a brick wall, a rubbish bin, and a few empty barrels.
"This rubbish bin is always here. You count three bricks up from it... then two across... this one," Tom said, pointing to a specific brick. He pulled out his wand and tapped the brick three times. "When you have your own wand, you can open the entrance yourself. Remember, tap three times."
The brick Tom had tapped began to tremble. The wall bizarrely shifted, and a small hole appeared in the center. The hole grew wider and wider, and within seconds, it formed a large archway.
A cobbled street stretched out before them, lined on both sides with shops. The street was bustling with witches and wizards, some calling out from small stalls.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Tom smiled.
"Mr. Tom, how do we get back?" Herb asked.
"When you're done with your shopping, just do what I did to open the wall," Tom patiently replied. "Oh, and you'd best go to Gringotts first. That's the wizarding bank. You'll need to exchange some Galleons with the goblins. Muggle money is no good here. Just head straight on—it's the big white building. Can't miss it."
"Thank you for the advice, Mr. Tom."
"Have a good time!" Tom waved and turned to go back to the pub. He liked this job.
After Tom left, the archway sealed itself, becoming a solid brick wall once more.
"Right. Let's go exchange that money," Herb said, taking a deep breath.
"This place feels... different," Albert said, looking at the strange shops. He smiled at his father. "It feels like we've stepped back in time by a century."
"Honestly," Herb sighed, "I'm starting to doubt if sending you to Hogwarts is the right call. Maybe Daisy was right." The magical world was amazing, but it gave him the distinct feeling of being stuck in the past, a world that hadn't kept up.
"Dad, it's not like I have to live in the wizarding world," Albert said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just going to Hogwarts to learn how to control this... this power."
"Ah, that's true." Herb's mood lightened. The two of them made their way through the crowd toward Gringotts.
As Tom had said, it was a large, white building. Standing by the polished bronze doors was a small figure in a uniform. It was... a goblin.
"They're... unique." Herb's expression was stiff. This was his first time seeing a non-human, humanoid creature.
Albert wasn't bothered. He observed the goblin: short, with a pointed beard, long fingers and toes, and a swarthy face. There was not an ounce of beauty to be found in the creature.
As they entered, Albert noticed the goblin bowed to them.
They passed through a second set of doors, these silver, which had words engraved on them. Herb leaned in to read the inscription:
"Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn..."
"I don't get it," Herb muttered after reading the first verse. "How often do wizards rob this bank that they need to carve a warning right on the door?"
Albert almost laughed. He quickly cleared his throat. "How much are you planning to exchange?"
"Hmm?" Herb thought for a moment, then whispered, "A thousand pounds. If it's not enough, we can always come back."
A thousand pounds. That was a full month's salary for most people.
Albert did a quick calculation. That should be around 200 Galleons. "That should be enough," he nodded.
Inside, two more goblins bowed and led them into a vast marble hall. Herb explained that he needed to exchange some Muggle money for Galleons.
A goblin led them to a tall counter on the right and handed Herb a small piece of parchment. It listed the exchange rate:
1 Galleon = £4.95
It also listed the magical currency breakdown: 1 Galleon = 17 Sickles, 1 Sickle = 29 Knuts.
Herb passed the parchment to his son. "How much is 200 Galleons?"
"£990."
"We'd like to exchange 200 Galleons, please," Herb said, taking £990 from his wallet and handing it to the goblin.
"Certainly. One moment," the goblin said, taking the pounds and beginning to count them.
"Excuse me, Mr. Goblin," Albert asked, voicing a question from his past life. "Is there a limit to how many pounds you can exchange for Galleons?"
"In theory, no," the goblin replied, "but we do not accept too much Muggle currency at once." The goblin rang a small bell, summoning another goblin. He gave a brief order, and the second goblin returned with a bag of gold coins, leading them to a side table to verify the count.
"I can't believe they're actual gold coins," Herb marveled, fiddling with a Galleon between his fingers.
After counting the 200 Galleons and confirming the amount was correct, the two of them left Gringotts.
As they walked back out onto the sunny street, the gold coins in their pockets made a pleasant jingle-jangle, as if urging them to spend it all.