Hogwarts: What bad intentions could a little Hufflepuff have?

All of it could be arranged right away!

P.S. Dear readers, the monthly tickets are going up way too slowly, the numbers are way too low, and I even secretly voted for three chapters myself. It's too miserable. Kneeling and begging for monthly tickets—once the monthly tickets arrive, I'll weld myself to the chair and not leave.

Also, the next chapter will be Diagon Alley! All I can say is, wherever the protagonist goes, chaos follows!

Of course, a new girl will appear too!

Godric's Hollow.

Dumbledore looked at the little town.

His eyes were full of memories.

At that moment, Black was supporting himself against a wall.

He stood off to the side, settling his violently churning stomach.

Why did Apparition have to feel so awful?

Black thought.

Maybe it was the same principle as Muggles getting carsick?

"Professor Dumbledore!"

A strange middle-aged man hurried over.

"Mr. Pierre."

Mr. Pierre excitedly clasped Dumbledore's hand.

"We've finished what you asked us to do. Here are the keys."

Mr. Pierre took out a bunch of keys.

And handed them to Dumbledore.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Pierre. You're as capable as ever."

"Thank you for the praise, Professor Dumbledore... If you need help again next time, please be sure to come to me!"

Mr. Pierre left excitedly.

His eyes were filled with Dumbledore.

During the whole time, he did not even glance at Black.

"That gentleman must be one of your top fanboys, right?"

"I mean... what Muggles call a superfan."

After Black recovered.

He carried his suitcase and walked over.

"Ah... perhaps he simply rather likes some of the ways I do things."

"It can't really be called... er... being a fan."

Dumbledore said modestly.

"All right, your new home has been arranged."

Dumbledore shook the key in his hand.

"To be precise, this is my ancestral home... It's just that, ever since... I haven't been back in a very long time."

"So I asked Mr. Pierre and his team to help me give it a proper renovation."

Dumbledore's ancestral home was located at the edge of the town.

It was a small detached two-story house.

In front of the house was a desolate little garden.

Behind it, however, was a lush green hill.

Basically, it could be said to have been built against the mountain.

Seeing the woods, Black drew in the fresh scent of grass and trees in delight.

"Wonderful! Bear Big can usually stay there."

"Mm... and there's the little garden out front... I think I can cultivate lots of interesting plants there!"

Black liked this place.

At the very least, here, he could safely plant some strange and peculiar plants.

Without anyone noticing.

After all, though this place was a settlement half made up of wizards and half of Muggles.

Most wizarding homes were set up with Muggle-Repelling Charms.

Muggles could rarely discover the strange things inside wizards' homes.

Even if they noticed anything strange, they would only think it was haunted...

As for that lush, green back mountain...

According to Dumbledore, that whole area belonged to the Dumbledore family?

Black had figured out where he should hide those magical creatures of his in the future!

He put his luggage away.

Then he let Bear Big out.

After that, Black began staring eagerly at Dumbledore.

He could take his time getting familiar with his new home.

But Diagon Alley...

He wanted to go right now!

"All right... I was originally planning to take you around to meet the neighbors."

"But since you want to go to Diagon Alley now..."

After experiencing Apparition once, Black no longer felt quite so awful.

Dumbledore did not take him to The Leaky Cauldron.

Instead, he Apparated directly to the entrance of Diagon Alley.

Once Black had adjusted to the dizziness of Apparition, he began curiously taking in the legendary Diagon Alley.

Black found himself standing on a cobblestone street.

Behind him was a brick wall.

Behind that wall should be The Leaky Cauldron.

Soft sunlight fell across a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop.

A sign hung above the cauldrons.

"Copper—brass... full range of sizes, self-stirring, collapsible..."

Black pointed at the cauldrons and asked, "What are those?"

"Those are cauldrons, used for brewing potions."

Dumbledore patiently answered Black's questions.

"Oh... Then can they be used to cook hotpot?"

Dumbledore replied with a smile, "Mm... I suppose they should be able to."

"In fact, I've never done that myself."

"I imagine no one has done it before either."

"But we can try it for ourselves when we get back."

Diagon Alley could, in fact, be called the central commercial district for British wizards.

It was much wider than Black had imagined, with far more shops too.

And yet, even such a broad street

was almost packed with people!

It was extraordinarily lively!

"Come along. I think... what you're most interested in should be getting a wand."

"Isn't it?"

Black followed behind Dumbledore.

For the first time, he stepped onto Diagon Alley's cobblestone street.

He followed Dumbledore while constantly looking around at the shops.

All sorts of strange shops.

There were actually many that Black had no idea what they sold.

Of course, in order to fit the image of a Muggle-born child, as they walked, Black asked questions the entire way.

Even though his questions seemed rather bizarre.

For example:

"Dragon Liver, sixteen sickles an ounce? How many Pound Sterling is one sickle worth? Can this Dragon Liver be fried and eaten?"

"Why are they all gathered around a broom? Don't they have brooms at home for sweeping the floor?"

Still, Dumbledore patiently answered all of Black's many questions.

Soon, they reached their destination.

Compared with the other shops, this one looked small and shabby.

The gold lettering on the sign over the door had already peeled away.

It read:

"Ollivander: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."

In the shop window, a single wand lay alone on a faded purple cushion.

"Let's go in," Dumbledore said with a smile.

Black followed Dumbledore into the shop, full of anticipation.

Only, just after they had gone inside, a little girl in a green dress appeared not far away.

She had long, smooth, flowing blond hair.

On her pretty face was a faint trace of habitual haughtiness.