Vaughn turned and spotted a stern-looking witch emerging from a narrow archway nearby, guiding a young couple and their small daughter into Diagon Alley.
That archway led to the Leaky Cauldron—a place Vaughn had visited before. Unfortunately, the hunched old barman, Tom, had firmly refused to sell him butterbeer.
It was one of those small disappointments that lingered. Back when he'd read the books in his previous life, he'd always wondered what it tasted like.
The couple following the professor were unmistakably Muggles. Their neat suits and light summer dress looked painfully ordinary amid the chaos of Diagon Alley, making them stand out even more.
Molly spotted them at the same time.
Her face lit up as she waved enthusiastically.
"Professor McGonagall! Merlin's beard, what a delight to see you!"
Professor McGonagall's stern expression softened at once. Of course she recognised Molly—after all, the Weasleys had already sent five children to Hogwarts, all of them sorted into Gryffindor. Forgetting them would've been difficult.
She approached with the Muggle family in tow and inclined her head politely.
"Mrs. Weasley. Out shopping for school supplies, I presume?"
"Yes, Professor McGonagall—oh! Is this young lady also starting Hogwarts?"
"She is," McGonagall replied, stepping aside. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and their daughter—also beginning at Hogwarts this year—Hermione Granger."
As she spoke, her gaze flicked toward Vaughn and Ron, lingering briefly—though noticeably—on Vaughn.
"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, this is Mrs. Weasley, and her sons—Vaughn Weasley, and…"
"Ron!" Ron blurted, peeking nervously from behind Molly.
"…Ron Weasley," McGonagall finished calmly. Her lips pressed together for a moment—then, as she looked back at Vaughn, the corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly.
She bent down and shook his hand.
"Mr. Weasley. A pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure's mine, Professor McGonagall."
Vaughn returned the handshake politely, then glanced toward the Grangers, who were still awkwardly greeting Molly. Their daughter peeked out from behind them, eyes bright with curiosity.
Snap.
Vaughn flicked his fingers.
A faint pulse of wandless magic rippled through the air. The unruly hair hanging over the girl's forehead gently floated upward, drifting like seaweed suspended in water.
It was nothing impressive—barely even a proper spell.
But for Muggles who had never witnessed magic before?
Mr. and Mrs. Granger gasped, hands flying to their mouths.
Hermione's eyes widened in awe. She reached up instinctively, trying to pat her hair back into place, then stared at Vaughn with unrestrained excitement—clearly desperate to ask how he'd done it.
A dry cough cut through the moment.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.
"Mrs. Weasley, I still need to escort the Grangers to Gringotts to exchange their money, so I won't keep you."
As she turned to leave, she paused and glanced sideways at Vaughn.
"Mr. Weasley, please remember: even minor spells are forbidden in front of Muggles. The Ministry of Magic enforces this very strictly."
Vaughn beamed.
"Of course, Professor."
As they departed, Hermione glanced back repeatedly. Vaughn smiled at her again, and the little girl froze—then flushed bright red and hurried after her parents.
Cute.
Vaughn watched them disappear around the corner.
Then—
"Are we buying my wand or not?" Ron grumbled. "Ollivanders is probably packed today."
Clearly, Ron's entire existence revolved around the idea of a new wand.
As for the Muggle family?
Who? What family?
Vaughn gave him an odd look, making Ron instinctively uneasy.
"What?" Ron muttered, rubbing his face. "Why're you staring at me like that?"
"…Nothing," Vaughn said cheerfully. "As long as you're happy."
Ron was happy.
It was his first time in Diagon Alley, and he was utterly dazzled. Even though he kept insisting they hurry to Ollivanders, when they passed Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, his feet stuck to the cobblestones as if glued.
Perhaps anticipating a later meltdown—especially after seeing Vaughn buy new robes, books, and supplies—Molly generously bought him an ice cream.
Distracted by the cold sweetness, Ron finally calmed down.
Molly then took Vaughn to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Flourish and Blotts, and several other shops to purchase robes, books, and equipment.
Thankfully, most shops now offered owl delivery, sparing them from hauling mountains of bags.
"Books, robes, cauldron, scales… oh! Don't forget, you're allowed a pet. There's Eeylops Owl Emporium and the Magical Menagerie. Vaughn, have you decided?"
Vaughn glanced at Ron—still engrossed in his ice cream—and smiled innocently.
"I think I'll get a cat."
Ron froze mid-bite, his face draining of colour.
A cat.
Scabbers' future flashed before his eyes—short, terrifying, and filled with claws.
But then…
A new wand.
Temptation whispered. The ice cream melted pleasantly on his tongue.
Ron said nothing.
The Magical Menagerie was the largest pet shop in Diagon Alley. Aside from creatures forbidden by the Ministry, it stocked nearly every animal suitable for wizarding companionship.
The owner—a stout witch with oversized black-rimmed glasses—greeted them warmly. Upon hearing Vaughn's request, she waved her wand, summoning a line of cages.
"Excellent taste, Mr. Weasley. Most children rush straight for owls—so practical, so dull. Cats, though? Wonderful companions."
She leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially,
"And quite a few of ours have Kneazle ancestry. Very clever, those."
Meow~
The cats seemed to understand. Several rose from their naps and padded toward Vaughn, meowing softly.
One stood out immediately.
It was enormous—nearly four feet long, dwarfing the others. Its build was solid, its coat thick and luxurious, a rich blend of orange and gold that made it look twice its actual size. Pressing its serious little face against the bars, it reached toward Vaughn as he extended his hand.
"Oh, she likes you!" the witch exclaimed. "That's a Maine Coon with Kneazle blood—quite rare here."
Vaughn tickled its paw. The cat gently retracted her claws and wrapped her plush pads around his fingers.
Temperament. Colour. Presence.
She won him over instantly.
It reminds me of that fruit tea I used to drink in my past life…
"I'll take her."
After paying, Vaughn emerged carrying his new pet—no easy task. She weighed nearly thirty pounds, and Vaughn had to adjust his grip constantly.
Ron went pale.
"Th-that's a cat?!"
"Of course," Vaughn said happily. "I'm naming her Guoguo Tea. Guoguo Tea—go sniff out the rat smell on Ron."
"Meow~"
(End of Chapter )