A First Glimpse of Magic

The goblin bristled as he took the offered wand, inspecting it closely. Once he'd run his eyes over the whole thing, he reached down, and from under his desk, he retrieved a strange device, a sort of squarish object with a glowing crystal in the centre, which he proceeded to slowly wave over the wand. A moment later, the goblin's eyes widened, and he handed the wand back to Tom with shaking hands.

"Please," intoned the goblin cautiously, "Follow me."

The goblin led them into what appeared to be a rather fancy waiting room, the walls veiled by intricate red tapestries which matched the upholstery of the gold gilded chairs they were shown to.

"Please be seated."

Harry and Tom did so, and a moment later, Redclaw disappeared, but only for a couple of moments, after which another goblin waddled in with Redclaw. This goblin looked much older, sturdier, and quite frankly, scarier. His wrinkled face was scarred and his wiry grey hairs stuck out every which way (rather like Harry's own hair). Nonetheless, the old goblin's voice was soft.

"Please, sirs, follow me."

Tom rose to his feet, but stopped Harry from leaving his chair.

"Redclaw, if you would, my companion has his own business to attend to."

There was something very...antique about the place, like an old pub from a Dickens novel or the Prancing Pony from the Lord of the Rings. Something about it was rather fantastic, too, he noted as he caught sight of the paintings of dragons and knights and odd little creatures whose names he did not know decorating the walls. And then there were the patrons; most quite old, dressed in quirky, archaic clothing, so...idiosyncratic, in a way. Definitely a Dickens novel, Harry thought.

While Harry was occupied with his observations, Tom wasted no time in tugging on Harry's hand and brushing through the pub, leading Harry out the back door and seemingly into a dead end.

Harry watched with interest as Tom withdrew his wand from the inner pocket of Miss Jenkins's red pea coat, pausing.

"Watch carefully, Harry. I won't show you again."

When he saw Harry nod, he went about gingerly tapping on a seemingly random sequence of bricks.. A moment later, the bricks moved, dancing apart in an intricate pattern, the complexity but a faint reflection of what lay beyond. And seeing what lay beyond, Harry's eyes went wide, and all his breath escaped his lungs.

"This is...Diagon Alley?"

Tom nodded. "For many witches and wizards unfortunate enough to be raised by muggles, this is their first glimpse of the Wizarding World." He paused. "Soak in everything, Harry. The colours, the sounds, the smells, the very taste of the air...you'll never forget this moment."

Harry nodded avidly, and took it all in. The 'alley's' sides were lined seamlessly with shop after shop, bustling with adults and children alike, the cobblestone street beneath them barely visible.

The whole place was at the same time antique and novel, everything crafted of polished glass and neatly worked wood, which complemented the archaic clothing style that seemed to be commonplace for wizards. Dresses and long coats of fine velvet and silk seemed to slip in and out of stores and through crowds, weaving these strange swirling patterns in constant metamorphosis that made the alley look positively alive.

Chattering, shouts, laughter, footfalls - noise - it all sounded like music to his ears. And then there were the smells. Pastries and smoke and sunshine.

Absently squeezing Tom's hand, he let the Dark Lord wearing a school teacher lead him skillfully through the crowded streets until they reached a great white building, labeled with the stark, deeply carven letters, 'GRINGOTTS BANK.'

Harry suddenly felt very small as he was led up whitewashed steps to the bank. When they reached the doors, Tom stopped him.

"Goblins are...temperamental creatures -"

"Like you?"

Harry felt a shot of pain in his scar. Apparently Tom could still torture him even if they weren't sharing a body.

"Be polite, do not speak unless necessary, and stay close to me."

Honestly, Harry never understood why Tom of all people told him to be polite. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Harry figured it was part of Tom's ongoing attempt to act like a responsible non-psychopathic adult.

Pushing open the heavy, polished wooden doors, Harry and Tom found another set of silver doors inside, at which Tom patiently paused to allow Harry to read the inscription over the entrance:

"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."

Well that was...inspiring. Wouldn't it be amazing, he thought, to work in a place that warned off thieves with a riddle? It was positively epic. Were there treasures hidden underground, then? And guarded by this mysterious obstacle the riddle spoke of? Great wizard guards? Some terrible and fantastic spell? Some exotic beast? Or maybe...a dragon?

Entering the bank, Harry's eyes went wide as he observed the vast rows of busy tellers, all manned by small, leering creatures, which he assumed were goblins. They certainly looked very...goblin-y. The floor was of smooth, polished marble, a classy black and white sort of marble, and the hall lit by brightly shimmering, yet cobwebbed crystal chandeliers. Harry was lost in the majestic display so thoroughly that he nearly forgot where he was, as Tom led him forward.

....

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