The Leaky Cauldron, that grubby little pub, had fallen into decline along with the decay of Diagon Alley's shopping street. Now, with Diagon Alley's transformation, it had come back to life again.
Ever since the area had become a logistics hub, the wizards working here had chosen to stop by for a drink to ease the fatigue of the day, or to take care of lunch and dinner. These rather rough-and-ready wizards filled the little pub with smoke and made it seem extremely noisy.
Compared with the old days, when passing through here had been like going through a city gate, with all sorts of wizards of unknown origin coming and going to shop in Diagon Alley, the current customers suited the Leaky Cauldron's original style better. The hearty, cheap food fit the needs of these working-class wizards more.
"Those stingy goblins suffered heavy losses this time. Watching their own gold coins being carried out box by box to compensate the surrounding warehouses, those little dwarfs' faces turned blue, every one of them hanging their heads," Doris Crockford, a regular witch at the Leaky Cauldron, said with a broad, carefree laugh.
"Merely paying money already counted as lucky for them... Their luck was actually pretty good. This place is now a transfer station for delivering supplies to Muggles, so there weren't many magical items... and it happened to be after work, so no one lost their life. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a problem money could solve." Seeing that his words had drawn the attention of many wizards, Dedalus Diggle proudly wagged his head, making the top hat on it wobble even harder.
"Yes, heavy losses... I expect those goblins won't be spending money in my pub for a while." Old Tom, the pub owner whose hair had almost all fallen