Diagon Alley

"It seems your son is a rare case of late blooming, Mr. and Mrs. Granger." The strict-faced woman said, lips rising ever so slightly. "The two of them may go to Hogwarts."

"Though, I am afraid your son's letter may not arrive until later. It might be best to skip the unnecessary steps and buy supplies for both."

To the left of his bed, a pint-sized girl jumped up and down, the gap in her teeth showing as she smiled, "We can both go, together!"

There was also a man - Robert, his new memories supplied - behind the girl, rubbing her messy brown hair as he smiled. "Isn't that great, Tom? You can go to the same school as your sister."

"Just make sure to put all that energy to good use." A woman - Helen - told him from the right side of his bed, wearing a wry smile as she eyed the wrecked room.

"That might be for the best." Said McGonagall, smiling just the tiniest bit. Everyone smiled at him, a bit worried but also relieved. Thomas took it all in, faces blurring together.

They weren't his family. This new body wasn't his. He could still feel the phantom pain of the car accident - it loomed over his shoulder like a specter.

The sobbing, the cold, the fear of dying - he could remember it all. He had died alone in the hospital, afraid, and he couldn't even imagine what his family's reaction would be. Could his parents pull through their grief? Would everyone be okay?

He wouldn't get an answer. He had everything taken away. Thomas did not even have the right to grieve or rage. Instead, he eyed the people surrounding his bed, his body feeling cold.

"I will." He suddenly replied - voice quiet - just going through the motions.

"Now, seeing that you are not injured, I shall take you all to Diagon Alley to buy your school supplies."

"Wouldn't another day be best-"

"Apologies, Mrs. Granger, but I am on a tight schedule." And she did look apologetic. "There are still a few more students I must visit today."

Taking out her wand, she waved it a single time, to the surprise of both Robert and Helen. "Before we are on our way, however, allow me to do this. It is the very least I could do."

That immediately broke Thomas from his inner turmoil, a brief surge of awe breaking through the grief and anger.

Instantly, glass shards flew across the room, somehow not hitting anyone, and melded back perfectly with the broken windows. Wooden pencils fixed themselves, going toward their supposed location on the table. And even the broken chair's leg righted itself up.

By the end of it, the bedroom looked tidier than it was before the 'explosion.' The awe stayed with Thomas for a surprisingly long time, though it did not last forever.

"Well, let us be on our way." The strict McGonagall had her expressionless face back, smile gone as she left the bedroom.

"Come on, we have to go to the library first! There are so many books to read before term begins, I don't even know where to start." The pint-sized girl said, bouncing down the stairs.

Like a hellion of pure energy, her brown hair danced left and right, tangling onto itself even more. 

[ - - - ]

Hampstead Garden Suburb wasn't far from the Leaky Cauldron, so McGonagall thought it best to go in a car instead of Apparating. She, unlike her colleagues, had some modicum of common sense when dealing with muggles. 

So, they all took Helen's medium-sized car and went on their merry journey to the Leaky Cauldron, following McGonagall's instructions to the very letter. 

Fortunately, it was a blessing in disguise for Thomas, who still had yet to break out of his inner thoughts. The drive was silent despite Hermione's enthusiasm.

Thomas just stared out the window, slowly settling into the pace of things. He had read the books of Harry Potter, twice even - once when he was younger, and another time alongside his younger sister.

As he pondered, his reflection stared back at him from the car's window. He, unlike Hermione, had their mother's black hair, as well as her amber eyes.

Shortly, he should be getting his wand and school materials. Then, he had a month or so before the first term started. He had until then to sort out his thoughts and feelings.

After that came the clusterfuck that was to be the brother of Hermione Granger, who would inevitably get dragged into the main plot - one way or another. 

'You are still alive - somehow - and everything is shit. But you are not disabled, and you still have your wits.' He repeated his mantra, though the words sounded somewhat sarcastic.

Nails digging into his palms, Thomas noticed they finally arrived. The Leaky Cauldron was just like any other bar on the outside, though more dingy and rustic in appearance.

The interior, however, was a completely different story. Magical creatures, people wreathed in dark robes, and the whimsical notes of a Shawn filled the bar.

Self-cleaning brooms swept across the wooden floorboards, and towels rubbed dirty glasses at the counter. As they entered, a few patrons glared, only adding to the theme.

The closest thing that Thomas could compare it to was the ambiance of some medieval tavern, though adapted to the wizarding world. 

'Those glares are probably because of our appearance.' Thomas frowned. 'We couldn't look more muggle even if we tried.'

McGonagall seemed to agree. She quickly took them away from the glaring patrons and to the dividing wall between the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley.

She tapped a few bricks with her wand and the wall folded onto itself like origami. Instantly, Robert and Helen gasped in surprise, as did Hermione. If it weren't for his inner issues, maybe he would do the same too.

Dozens of gravity-defying shops greeted their eyes, the 'street' still stuck in centuries past. Cobbled stones paved their way, and unlit oil lamps stood to the left and right.

Children and adults in robes and pointy hats crowded the alley, with owls and other strange flying animals swooping between the people. Thomas could also hear other archaic musical instruments echoing in the distance, such as the flute and viola. 

He let himself wash away with the distant song - it reminded him of dancing with his sisters at a medieval fair in Switzerland. Diagon Alley was beautiful - a gateway from the mundane world. 

"Welcome to Diagon Alley." McGonagall allowed herself a small smile as she said this. Then, strict to a fault, she resumed her walk, a stunned family following close behind.

[ - - - ]

They did not dally long in most shops, to the chagrin of her daughter, who wanted to see and experience everything Diagon Alley had to offer. And, were someone privy to Helen's true thoughts, Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour did seem like a good stop.

Regardless, Professor McGonagall was a strict and efficient woman. They quickly exchanged pounds for Galleons in Gringotts Bank and went about the rest of their trip.

In that case, Helen was thankful, as she couldn't say these goblin creatures were the most pleasant company to be around. It wasn't just their atypical faces or grotesque warty skin that put her off. 

Their attitude was worse than that of bankers, their smile a bit too sharp for her liking as they discussed policies and customer rights. It almost looked like they wanted to scam their clientele.

Which, now that Helen thought about it, wasn't that different from most banks in the mundane world. But she digressed, shaking off errant thoughts as they reached an antique little shop.

The shop was unlike most buildings in Diagon Alley, which looked as if they might topple over their weight at any moment, their structure crooked as it was.

McGonagall had reassured them that it was merely an aesthetic choice and that the infrastructure of these buildings wasn't compromised.

Helen wasn't sure which one was worse: the fashion trends in the wizarding world or if the buildings were to be structurally unsound. She would keep that question for later when she was alone with Robert.

At the front, with cylindrical windows framing it, the shop's logo read: 'Ollivanders - Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 BC.' That was a long time ago, Helen couldn't help but remark. 

"Here, you will get your wands, which will remain with you - I hope - for the rest of your lives." McGonagall's voice brought her back from her musings.

"It isn't the wizard who chooses their wand, and there are no two equal wands. Each is unique, just like their owners."

"As such, finding your wand is an extremely personal experience, and both Hermione and Thomas should go in alone." She explained, eyeing Helen as she did so.

"Tom, you can go first." Said Robert from her side before she could protest. "It will be fine, you mother-hen." He whispered just to her, smiling.

"Really?" She whispered back, eyes narrowing even as she smiled at her son. "Go on, dear, we will be waiting outside." Someone would be getting the cold shoulder that night.