3 Diagon Alley (rewritten)

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast filled with bacon, sausages, and one or two bits of toast that may have considered being warm at some point, my dear aunt Iris and I found ourselves standing at the entrance of a grand and peculiar mansion.

Iris, with a twinkle in her eye and a hat that looked like it might start a conversation any moment, turned to me with a mischievous grin.

Iris: "Ready, Arthur? Let's try not to relive the mishap of your first visit, shall we?"

I blinked, my eyebrows resembling perplexed caterpillars.

Arthur: "Is there absolutely no other way?"

Iris, adjusting her hat so that it leaned more conspiratorially: "There's always another way, Arthur, but this, my dear, is the quickest route. You are a wizard, after all."

Arthur, pondering the implications: "I'm aware, but I've read about Apparition. It's an advanced spell, reserved for fully trained witches and wizards. It involves vanishing from one place and reappearing almost instantly somewhere else. It's also one of the riskiest methods. You must maintain unwavering focus, or you might end up 'Splinching' yourself. Why take such a gamble?"

Iris, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief: "Oh, it's terribly risky, that's why they tell young wizards like yourself to wait until they're a bit more grown-up to attempt it. But worry not, dear Arthur. Trust in your aunt Iris. I haven't had a single accident in the last ten years. I've collected enough experience to fill a library. Now, let's be on our way."

We joined hands, and in a whirl of eccentricity, we teleported to the entrance of a rather quaint, ancient, and somewhat disreputable-looking pub.

I clutched my stomach, desperately trying to keep my breakfast in check. The experience was still not quite pleasant, but it certainly fared better than my first attempt.

Iris grinned at my valiant effort.

Iris: "Improvement, wouldn't you say?"

Arthur: "A bit, but I solemnly vow to devise a more secure method, even if it takes my very last breath. So, is this the place where I can acquire the necessary items?"

Iris: "Hoped for something grander, did you?"

The sarcasm dripped from my aunt's words.

Arthur: "To be honest, yes."

A chuckle escaped Iris as she replied.

Iris: "Welcome to The Leaky Cauldron, dear boy, a gathering place for London's sorcerers. It used to be one of my favored haunts. More importantly, it's the gateway between the non-magical world and the wizarding one."

Iris continued, her voice carrying excitement.

Iris: "This, however, is merely the entrance to Diagon Alley. We'll find all your essentials there."

Arthur: "Can regular folks see this pub?"

Iris: "Muggles, dear, that's what we call non-magical folks. They can only perceive The Leaky Cauldron when they receive a proper invitation, now, let's not dawdle. The crowd will swell as the day unfolds."

Stepping inside with cautious expectations, we were greeted by the sight of a rustic bar and several dimly lit tables tucked away in shadowy corners. A few elderly women occupied these nooks, sipping dainty glasses of sherry. One of them even puffed on a long pipe.

A diminutive man adorned in a jaunty top hat conversed with the aged barkeep, who sported a bald pate that resembled a well-chewed walnut. When his gaze landed on us, his throaty voice resonated.

Barman: "Well, if it isn't Iris! It's been an age... Last I saw you, you were with your brother, if memory serves me right... How have you been?"

Iris: "Indeed, Tom, I'm doing well, thank you. The place seems as bustling as ever."

Tom: "Same old, same old, you know how it goes around these parts this time of year. The school term is about to start, as you're well aware, Iris. It's a given that even my humble pub is packed, but it seems you didn't come alone this time. Who do we have here?"

Iris, her chest swelling with pride: "This is my nephew. He'll be starting his first year at Hogwarts this year, and we're here to prepare."

Arthur: "Hello, sir. I'm Arthur Belmont-Prince, pleased to make your acquaintance."

Tom remained silent, but the fact that he halted what he was doing a few seconds ago spoke volumes. After a brief pause in which he seemed caught in thought, his gaze, which had been fixed on me, returned to my aunt.

Tom: "Well, I'll be hog-swoggled. Is he... his son?"

The pub fell into a hush, and all eyes turned in our direction. Only hushed whispers persisted.

Woman: "Is he his...

Man: "Aye, I heard them."

Woman: "But I thought he wasn't with anyone."

Tom shifted his gaze back to me, his approach deliberate. He knelt down to meet me eye to eye, taking my hands in his own with a solemn expression.

Tom: "Thank you, lad. Without your father, I might not be standing here today. He saved my life, and for that, I'm forever grateful. If ever you require anything, Lord Prince, the doors of this establishment will forever be open to you. Don't hesitate to ask this old fool for anything."

Others in the pub seemed eager to echo Tom's sentiments, but a single stern glance from my aunt was enough to have them withdraw.

Arthur: "Sir, you can call me Arthur, if it pleases you."

Tom: "Is that so, then, Arthur, you can call me Tom."

Once more, we shook hands.

Tom: "You know, I was a good friend of your father during his time here... When you have a moment, I'll regale you with some amusing tales from his days at Hogwarts. He frequented this place often for our pies. You should try them sometime."

Arthur: "I'll definitely give them a try sometime, Tom."

Iris: "Well, Tom, it's been lovely reuniting with an old friend, but we have a lot on our plate. We'll be back later. Goodbye for now."

Tom: "Anytime, Iris. Best of luck, Arthur. It's been a pleasure meeting you and seeing you again, Iris. Until next time, the both of you."

As we retreated behind the pub, we found ourselves in a small, enclosed courtyard with a solitary dustbin.

I watched as my aunt pulled on a hood and adjusted a mask, which covered only half of her face.

Iris: "Listen, Arthur, this is merely an entry point. There are various ways to reach our destination in due time. I'll show you a handful, and you can choose the one that suits you best."

Arthur: "I can't help but wonder, Aunt Iris."

Iris: "Wonder about what, dear?"

Arthur: "Why the hood and the mask? You introduced me to those people just minutes ago."

Iris: "Ah, but you see, Arthur, it's about not drawing attention when we don't want it. If they recognize me, they'll connect the dots to you, and that could invite unwanted scrutiny."

Arthur: "But I thought we were in a time of peace."

Iris: "Things aren't always as they seem, my boy. You'll come to understand that soon enough. There are still many hidden enemies in plain sight, and we need to exercise caution."

After her explanation, she proceeded to teach me how to access the entrance to our destination.

Iris: "To gain access to the entrance, you must tap the correct brick in the wall behind The Leaky Cauldron. From the rubbish bin, count three bricks up and two across."

The wall underwent a transformation, starting as a modest hole and blossoming into a grand archway.

I stood there, utterly flabbergasted by the sight that greeted me. Diagon Alley sprawled out before me, its cobbled streets teeming with a kaleidoscope of enchanting establishments, each beckoning with its own peculiar wares, and a vibrant populace of wizards and witches.

Iris beamed at my reaction.

Iris: "Welcome to Diagon Alley, Arthur."

While my initial view was somewhat restricted, a closer inspection revealed a treasure trove of delights. Shops selling robes, others displaying telescopes and mysterious silver instruments I had never laid eyes on. Windows showcased barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, towering stacks of spell books, quills, parchment rolls, potion bottles, and globes of the moon, all testaments to the wonders of magic.

I longed to delve deeper into this enchanting world, but I knew now was not the time...

Iris: "Our first destination is Gringotts Wizarding Bank," she declared. "I need to make a deposit, and we'll withdraw the funds required for school."

I nodded in agreement, though truthfully, a bank was not my initial choice of exploration...

We drew closer to an imposing snow-white multi-story marble edifice nestled partway down Diagon Alley, dwarfing its neighboring shops. As we approached the entrance, a grand staircase of white stone led to burnished bronze doors. Flanking the doors stood a goblin in a striking uniform of scarlet and gold. This was the entrance to Gringotts, which opened into a small entryway and another pair of doors. Inscribed upon these silver doors were the following words:

"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.

So if you seek beneath our floors,

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware,

Of finding more than treasure there."

Through these doors, also guarded by goblins, lay a vast marble hall. Long counters stretched its length, with doors leading to vault passageways, and approximately a hundred goblins were stationed at them.

Iris: "Only a fool would entertain the idea of pilfering from these beings, Arthur. They are not to be trifled with. Exercise caution when dealing with them in the future."

The goblins stood short and fair-skinned, their elongated fingers and feet giving them a peculiar appearance. They possessed dome-shaped heads and were slightly larger than house elves. Some had dark, slanted eyes, and a few even sported pointed hats.

I must admit that ever since I began my journey into the world of magic, I've held a keen fascination for the various races that coexist with us. Now, I had the opportunity to meet them in person, a truly extraordinary day, I must say.

As we drew nearer, I noticed a particular goblin with a bald head, a pointed nose, and ears to match.

Iris: "Greetings, Master Goblin. May your gold flow eternally," my aunt greeted the goblin.

Griphook: "May your coffers overflow and your adversaries crumble before you, Queen of House Black. How can Griphook assist you today?"

Iris: "I would like to meet with my Account Manager."

Griphook: "Ah, yes, Lady Black. I shall escort you to meet with Account Manager Bargnok the Eighth."

And so, the goblin led us to meet with Bargnok. Ascending the stairs, we entered a room adorned with family crests, family photographs, and countless files. In the center of the room sat a desk, behind which sat a goblin. Before the desk, several plush chairs invited us to sit.

Bargnok: "Greetings, Lady Black," he greeted, casting a glance in my direction. "May your coffers overflow, and your foes kneel in defeat."

Another goblin, who had risen upon their entry, spoke.

Iris: "May your blade remain keen and your wealth multiply, Account Manager Bargnok," my aunt responded, initiating her requests. "As we previously discussed, I would like to retrieve the ring. Have you prepared it?

Bargnok:" Was all too easy Lady Black, is an inheritance ritual desired by any means? "

Iris:" No, the ritual is not necessary, "

Bargnok and Griphook delved into conversation.

Amidst the river's constant murmur, I discerned more voices, but they did not speak English or any human language I had ever encountered. It was a harsh, unmelodious tongue, a cascade of rough, guttural sounds...

Iris: "That's Gobbledegook, the native language of goblins," my Aunt explained.

A knock sounded on the door, which swung open to reveal a younger goblin, cradling a small black box.

Young Goblin: "Here is the ring you requested, Sir."

With a bow, the goblin presented the box, then promptly made his exit from the office.

Bargnok: "Now, let's see if the ring accepts you."

Arthur: "So, is this one of those moments where if the ring rejects me, I meet an untimely end?"

I quipped, half in jest.

Bargnok: "Indeed, Lord-to-Be Prince. The ring may also grant you the ability to oversee the wards of your various properties, ensure compliance from family members, and wield the family magics. Sometimes, it even allows you to glimpse the memories of those who bore the ring before you."

I found myself at a loss for words, seeking my aunt's approval for my next step. She offered a nod, the reassurance I required.

Arthur: "Well, Bargnok, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Apologies for the belated introduction. Please, feel free to call me Arthur."

With that, I cautiously slipped the ring onto my finger. As I did, a fleeting golden flash accompanied its disappearance and reappearance, settling comfortably onto my hand.

Bargnok: "Lord Prince, you are now the rightful heir to the ancient House of Prince. However, please remember that you will gain full access to the ring's powers upon reaching the appropriate age..."

Subsequently, our busy street led us to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, a well-known shop in the North Side of Diagon Alley.

As we stepped inside, my attention was drawn to an elderly woman.

She was a stout figure, draped entirely in mauve.

Madam Malkin: "Hogwarts, dear? We have everything you need here."

She paused briefly upon catching sight of my face, then turned her gaze toward my aunt. A warm smile graced her features as she regarded me.

"You'll have to wait, young man, as there's another being fitted right now."

I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of the individual in question, revealing a teenager with brown hair and a pallid complexion. A faint scar marred his left cheek. My astonishment was palpable when I recognized who was undergoing fitting.

Arthur: "Elias, is that you?"

Elias had been my best friend since kindergarten, he was originally from Greece, had moved to Romania at a young age. A series of events, including transfers and language difficulties, led to him being assigned to the same class as me, even though he was a year older. Despite this age difference, he remained a loyal friend during those early years when most children chose to steer clear of me, given the odd and unfortunate accidents that inexplicably occurred in my presence.

Elias had always been different; my peculiar circumstances never bothered him in the slightest.

I vividly remembered the day when a group of older boys had set their sights on me, intent on delivering a beating.

But Elias stood by my side, and together, we attempted to fend them off, even though we ended up on the losing side of the scuffle. It was that day, amid the chaos and bruises, that we discovered we had much in common. That was the day we truly became best friends.

Elias wore a look of shock as soon as he heard his name mentioned.

Elias: "Arthur!? Well, mate, you're a wizard too?"

Arthur: "Yes, mate. My situation is quite complicated. I'll explain it all later. And you?"

Elias: "You should have seen the looks on my mum and dad's faces when an owl flew in the window with a letter. At first, we thought it was some kind of prank, but then a woman came and demonstrated magic to us. You should have seen it, mate. She turned our dining table into a pig. An actual pig, mate. That's how I ended up here."

Iris: "That would be Professor McGonagall," my aunt chimed in.

Elias: "Who is she, Arth?"

Arthur: "She's my aunt, and she'll be a professor at Hogwarts too. Isn't that exciting?"

Elias: "Wow, that's brilliant, Arth. Pleasure to meet you, Madam. I'm Elias North."

Iris: "The pleasure is mine, Mr. North. Please take care of Arthur when I can't, will you?"

Elias: "I'll do my best, Madam, but I can't make any promises."

After bidding farewell to Elias, Madam took my measurements. I couldn't help but ask,

Arthur: "Where are we headed next?"

Iris: "I'm going to gather the rest of the items you need. You can head to the wand shop if you'd like."

My curiosity got the better of me, and I accepted the offer without much thought. So, off to the wand shop I went.

The shop's display featured a single wand resting on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

Upon entering, I noticed the shop was narrow and appeared rather shabby, with peeling gold letters above the door that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands.

As I ventured further inside, a tinkling bell rang from somewhere deep within the shop. The interior was small and empty, save for a solitary, frail chair nestled in the corner. Narrow boxes containing wands were stacked from floor to ceiling, casting the entire place in a fine layer of dust.

Ollivander: "Good afternoon," came a soft voice from behind me, causing me to jump.

As I stood there, a laugh echoed from the corner of the shop. Turning, I spotted a girl with blond hair, but what truly caught my attention were her silver eyes, which filled me with an inexplicable sense of unease.

Strange Girl: "I don't know why you do this every time, Grandpa, but it's always amusing to see their reactions."

Arthur: "Hello?"

Caitlyn: "Hello there. I'm Caitlyn Ollivander, and this is my Grandfather, Ollivander. Quite a lovely day to purchase a new wand, don't you think, Grandpa?"

I decided to avoid drawing attention to myself for the moment, choosing to use my mother's name. Swallowing my nervousness, I responded with what I hoped was a confident voice, trying not to let on just how unsettling I found them.

Arthur: "Hello once again. I'm Arthur, Arthur Belmont. Nice to meet you, Caitlyn."

Ollivander: "I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr. Belmont," he said with evident amusement.

Ollivander: "Here for your first wand, I presume, Mr. Belmont?"

Arthur: "Oh, yes, indeed, Sir."

Upon hearing my response, Ollivander seemed to glide around the corner, his words hanging in the air.

Ollivander: "Excellent. I hope you'll provide me with a good challenge."

Extending his hand, he gestured for me to do the same. As soon as I complied, he removed his glasses, revealing magnified silvery eyes. With a firm grip on my dominant hand, he turned it over and scrutinized it closely, muttering under his breath. From the corner of the shop, he retrieved a measuring tape and began to measure various aspects of my hand, from finger length to palm size.

After a few minutes of examination, he seemed to reach a conclusion.

Ollivander: "Ah, I know where to start with you."

Without uttering a word, he vanished into one of the shelves, all the while muttering so softly that I couldn't make out his words.

From the corner of the shop, I could hear Caitlyn's voice.

Caitlyn: "Hey, I apologize for my grandfather. He relishes the challenge of matching a wizard with the perfect wand. To be honest, I feel the same way."

Arthur: "No problem. Everything's sort of new to me. I'm doing my best to adapt as quickly as possible. By the way, are you a student?"

Caitlyn: "Yeah, about to start my sixth year at Hogwarts. What about you?"

Arthur: "Oh, me too. I mean, I'm going to be attending Hogwarts as well, but it'll be my first year."

Smooth, Arthur. Real smooth...

She let out a little chuckle at my stumbling words.

Ollivander: "Caitlyn, dear, I need your help. Come back for a moment!"

I could hear Ollivander's voice calling from the back of the shop.

Caitlyn: "Looks like that's my cue. Just wait here. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, I saw Mr. Ollivander emerge from behind a different shelf, carrying several different boxes. He said with a smile,

Ollivander: "Let's begin, shall we?"

Handing me the first wand, he said:

Ollivander: "Ebony and unicorn hair, good for transfiguration."

I eagerly took the wand and gave it a wave, but to my dismay, nothing happened. Ollivander wore a bright smile on his face and appeared quite content that this wasn't the right wand for me.

Ollivander: "I believe not."

He swiftly retrieved another box and slid it open, handing me a different wand. As we went through several boxes, none of the wands seemed to suit me. Strangely, this only seemed to fuel the enthusiasm of the granddaughter and grandfather duo. It was as if the more challenging the search, the greater their satisfaction.

Ollivander: "Ah, here we are."

I took the wand but once again, nothing happened.

Ollivander: "Well, give it a wave."

I hesitated for a moment, then waved the wand anyway. To my astonishment, most of the boxes came flying off the shelves, crashing down around me. I jumped back, hurriedly placing the wand back on the counter.

Ollivander: "Apparently not."

He retrieved another wand from a box.

Ollivander: "Perhaps this one."

I waved it at a vase, which promptly shattered, startling me.

Ollivander: "No, no, definitely not! No matter..." He began to reach for another wand but paused, lost in thought.

Ollivander: "I wonder."

He returned with a black box, sliding it open to reveal a wand with black coloring and gold accents along the sides.

Caitlyn gasped when she saw the wand.

Caitlyn: "You can't do this, Grandpa. This wand is..."

Ollivander: "Hush, child. Let the young wizard try. If the wand chooses him, so be it."

With those words, he handed the wand to me. The moment I touched it, a strange sensation washed over me. I began to glow faintly beneath the wand's touch, and a sense of clarity and empowerment filled my mind. It was as if I could accomplish anything I desired.

The wand felt warm in my hands, as if it was elated to have found its rightful master at last.

Ollivander looked a bit surprised and deep in thought. Curious, very curious.

Ollivander and Caitlyn exchanged glances, then turned their eyes back to the wand. Feeling a bit unsure, I spoke up.

Arthur: "If you don't want to sell it, I can give the wand back."

I didn't want to part with it, but I was prepared to do so if needed.

Ollivander: "No, Mr. Belmont, it's quite all right. You see, this wand wasn't made by us. It was given to us by someone a long, long time ago..."

Ollivander: "And you see, the one who gave this wand to us said that he would return to take it back someday. My ancestors agreed to keep it in the family for generations. It's the reason we became wand makers in the first place. We even tried to replicate it, but without any success. You should be proud that it chose you as its new master, Mr. Belmont. After all, the wand chooses the wizard it will work for."

Arthur: "How much do I need to pay for it?"

Ollivander: "It's free, Mr. Belmont."

Arthur: "Well then, I understand. It was nice meeting you, Caitlyn. See you in school?"

Caitlyn: "Sure thing, Arthur."

She offered a warm smile.

As I prepared to leave, I heard Mr. Ollivander's voice from behind.

Ollivander: "It seems like only yesterday that your Aunt and father were in here buying their first wands. I expect great things from you, Lord Prince."

I couldn't help but wonder how Mr. Ollivander knew who I was. It felt rather strange, but I didn't dwell on it. I smiled and replied in a cheerful tone.

Arthur: "Will do, Mr. Ollivander. See you around, Caitlyn. Bye!"

As I closed the door behind me, I heard a faint shriek from inside.

Caitlyn: "Did you know who he was and didn't tell me?!!"

It wasn't my problem, and I was relieved to be outside, feeling the warm air on my skin after being locked in the store for quite some time.

Outside, my aunt waited for me.

Iris: "Took you long enough. Fancy going somewhere else?"

Arthur: "Honestly, I'm quite hungry. I don't feel like going anywhere for now."

Iris: "Glad to hear that. Well, I know a place where the pie is really good. Fancy it?"

Arthur: "Sure!" I said, grinning ear to ear.

Iris: "Tipsy, to The Leaky Cauldron, please!"

Tipsy: "Heard your wish loud and clear, Miss."

Oh, no teleportation. A bit of warning would have been nice, let me prepare myself, woman, I thought.

And so, my day ended with a good pie and some entertaining stories from Tom at his pub. I was pretty excited, knowing that this was just the beginning of my story.

The following days went by in a flash, and the next thing I knew, it was the first of September - the day I would be heading off to Hogwarts.