Tip

117 Charing Cross Road, Westminster, London, United Kingdom.

Professor McGonagall led Damon to a stop in front of a dingy, narrow pub.

A moldy sign hung from the old wooden door outside, its lettering blurred and nearly illegible.

"We're here, child. This is the Leaky Cauldron I told you about—a place that borders the Muggle and wizarding worlds."

Damon let out a whistle, watching the hurried passersby with their peculiar 'obliviousness' to the pub, a spark of keen interest lighting up his eyes.

As he stepped inside, the gentle jingle of the doorbell gave way to a lively, raucous atmosphere that filled his ears.

Inside the dark, grimy pub, a few old women sat in a corner sipping sherry from small glasses, one of them puffing on a long clay pipe. Rough, hearty laughter from men and women rang out sporadically.

Damon observed all this with amusement, feeling as if he'd stumbled into some scene from a massive amusement park, a slight smile curling at his lips.

But the moment they spotted Professor McGonagall, many of the witches and wizards quieted down like mice seeing a cat—many of them had once been her students.

The pub's owner, recognizing McGonagall's signature green robes, greeted her respectfully:

"Hello, Professor McGonagall. Another new student?"

McGonagall nodded, exchanged a polite pleasantry, and led Damon through the bar to a small, walled courtyard.

There was nothing there but a dustbin and some weeds.

"Three up... and two across," McGonagall said steadily, tapping a brick wall three times with her wand.

The brick she'd struck quivered violently, and the stones at the wall's center shifted rapidly. In moments, a wide archway appeared before them, opening onto a winding, cobblestone street that stretched out of sight.

"Damon, remember this place. This is your only passage to Diagon Alley."

McGonagall stepped through the arch with Damon, whose eyes had widened slightly. As they entered Diagon Alley, the passage behind them immediately sealed back into solid wall.

Damon took a close look at the nearest shop. It seemed to be a cauldron seller, with a sign hanging by the door. He read it instinctively.

Potage's Cauldron Shop—Copper, brass, pewter, silver cauldrons; all sizes available; self-stirring; collapsible.

McGonagall led Damon to their first stop—Gringotts.

A snow-white building towered above the surrounding shops. Beside its gleaming bronze doors stood a figure in a scarlet-and-gold uniform.

As they entered, the goblin bowed to them.

A second set of silver doors appeared before them, engraved with 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.

Damon was led into a vast marble hall. About a hundred goblins sat on high stools behind a long counter, some weighing coins on brass scales, others examining gems with eyepieces, all scribbling busily into large ledgers.

The hall was spacious and magnificent, its walls adorned with magical decorations that shimmered with golden light.

At the long counter, a goblin perched on a high stool adjusted the frame on its pointed ear as it looked at Damon.

"Good afternoon. I'd like to exchange some Galleons."

As a former genius pianist, Damon was hardly short on funds.

He walked up to the counter, eyeing the goblin with curiosity. He had to admit, the creature's appearance was quite distinctive.

Damon pulled out a stack of £20 notes and requested an exchange for 200 Galleons.

"Paper money?" The goblin frowned. "These notes can be exchanged for Galleons, but the rate will be reduced. At our current exchange rate, this amount is just enough for 200 Galleons."

"Fine."

Damon nodded casually, his attitude generous enough, but the goblin's demeanor didn't improve in the slightest. It wore a sour expression that plainly showed its disdain, muttering under its breath about paper money, gold, gems, and the like.

Damon knew these goblins prized jewelry and gold above all else. If he'd brought those, the value would have been much higher. But for now, his current body was still a child—it wasn't suitable to exchange such things, nor was it necessary.

A little less was fine. What did it matter?

He smiled, enjoying the goblin's almost stereotypical display of greed, completely unbothered by his own loss.

Given the strange currency exchange system of the Harry Potter world, two hundred Galleons were more than enough to cover his daily needs for several years.

McGonagall, watching from the side, opened her mouth as if to say something in her student's defense, but Damon had already taken one coin from the two hundred Galleons and flicked it with his thumb across the counter to the goblin.

"This is a tip for you."

"Oh!" The goblin snatched the Galleon up quickly, a warm smile spreading across its face. "I don't like your flippant attitude, but I appreciate the gesture."

"You're a generous young wizard. If you ever need anything, feel free to come to me."

"You're welcome. Consider it a gift," Damon said, winking at it. "For our first meeting."

As for the goblin's promise, he wasn't foolish enough to believe it.

Professor McGonagall, watching from the side, was somewhat stunned. She felt this behavior was a bit too casual. After hesitating for a moment, she asked:

"Tipping—is that a term from the Muggle world for some kind of rule?"

"Yes, Professor. Tipping is usually used to express gratitude for service or performance. It's a common custom in the Muggle world."

"Custom? It seems the customs of the Muggle world are indeed different from the rules of our magical world."

Professor McGonagall's voice returned to calm, and she dropped the urge to dig deeper, but she couldn't help stealing another glance at Damon.

The wizarding world had always harbored strong prejudice and resistance toward Muggle society, dismissing any interest in understanding it. Even the wizarding scholars specializing in Muggle Studies had only limited knowledge.

But according to those Muggle Studies scholars, as Muggle society continued to advance, perhaps one day wizards and Muggles would live under the same sky.

Damon came from a Muggle background yet possessed extraordinary magical talent. Could it be that one day, he would become a bridge connecting the two worlds?

No, thinking about that now was far too premature.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, burying the fleeting 'absurd thought' deep in her heart, and continued:

"Come on. To keep things light, I'll take you to buy your robes and an owl first, then we'll get your class supplies."

[Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions]

The moment Damon stepped into the shop, a soft, elegant fragrance filled his nostrils, and his body instinctively relaxed.

Greeting him was a short, plump witch in purple robes—Madam Malkin.

"Buying Hogwarts school robes, dear?"

Seeing Damon nod, her smile grew even warmer. She had him stand on a footstool, slipped a robe over him, and pinned it to fit his height, praising:

"Such a handsome young wizard. I love your eyes—they're like sapphires."

"You're like that other boy, taller than most young wizards, but he doesn't have such beautiful eyes as yours."

"Thank you."

In between her work, Madam Malkin pulled out a row of exquisite robes and recommended:

"You should try this one. The deep blue with gold embroidery perfectly complements your aura. If you wear this to a ball, you'll be the center of attention!"

"Thank you. Just wrap it up for me."

"Oh, what a decisive young wizard! I suppose I should be decisive too."

Madam Malkin quickened her pace and soon said:

"All done, dear."

Damon nodded, picked up his school robes and the special deep-blue ornate robe, and left the shop.

Next, he went to Eeylops Owl Emporium and bought an owl as a pet—a pure white snowy owl, the same breed as Harry Potter's, but even more pristine, with not a single speck of color on it. Damon named it Chachabarton.

With those two items taken care of, only the wand and school supplies remained.

Required Supplies List:

Robes First-year students will need: Three sets of plain work robes (black) One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar material) One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings) Please note: All student clothing must be labeled with name tags.

Textbooks All students must have the following books: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment One wand One cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) One set of glass or crystal phials One telescope One set of brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad. Parents are reminded that first-years are not allowed their own broomsticks.