The Dust of The Leaky Cauldron

In August of 1937, the month arrived quietly, filled with anticipation and planning. London's summer carried a damp, sticky heat, but the hearts of two boys at the Wood Orphanage burned hotter than ever before.

That morning, when Albus Dumbledore reappeared at the orphanage gates, he was still wearing his brightly colored robe (this time a vibrant sapphire blue), a stark contrast to the drab surroundings. His gaze swept over Tom and Ares, who stood side-by-side, lingering for a moment on Ares's face with his usual probing look, but he said nothing more.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?" he asked with a smile, his tone as light as if he were taking them on a simple outing.

Tom nodded, his expression a carefully maintained facade of politeness, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. Ares, quieter, simply let out a soft "Mm."

They had no luggage to speak of, only an old cloth bag containing a few changes of clothes that Mrs. Cole had given them, along with their acceptance letters and supply lists tucked close to their bodies.

Dumbledore didn't use any of the magical modes of transport they might have imagined. Instead, he led them through the noisy streets of London, took them on a crowded subway, and finally, they walked into an ordinary, even somewhat dilapidated street—Charing Cross Road.

Tom's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. This was the gateway to the magical world he had dreamed of? It was no different from the filthy Muggle world.

Ares, guided by faint prompts from the System and his own precognition, scanned the shops lining the street with sharp eyes. Finally, his gaze settled between a grimy, cramped shop and a bookstore loudly soliciting customers.

It looked like a run-down, long-forgotten entrance, with a rickety wooden sign depicting a faded, broken cauldron. The sign read: The Leaky Cauldron.

[Destination confirmed! (???) The Leaky Cauldron! The first gateway to the magical world!]

Dumbledore walked straight towards the entrance, seemingly oblivious to the peculiar phenomenon of the Muggles hurrying past, their eyes sliding right over the place. He pushed open the wooden door, which looked ready to fall apart.

A warm, peculiar aroma, a mixture of pipe smoke, aged beer, and some kind of herb, wafted out. In stark contrast to the bright noise outside, the interior of the pub was dim and boisterous. A few people in robes, looking rather odd, sat in the shadows of a corner, conversing in low tones. An old witch, her teeth mostly gone, sat by the fireplace, cackling as she smoked a long pipe. The air was filled with an ancient, mysterious atmosphere, completely divorced from the Muggle world.

Tom's steps faltered almost imperceptibly the moment he stepped into the pub. His dark eyes quickly scanned the entire space, alight with barely suppressed excitement and a hint of instinctive disdain. This was the magical world? It didn't look… particularly glorious.

Ares, however, felt the Blood Pact Mark beneath his left eye grow slightly warm. The light and dark magic within him seemed to resonate more actively with the magic-infused environment.

The pub owner, Tom (a stooped old man with no teeth), saw Dumbledore and immediately broke into a respectful yet slightly fearful smile. "Professor Dumbledore! A rare visitor! The usual?"

"Not today, Tom," Dumbledore said gently. "I've brought two new students to purchase supplies."

The pub's regulars eyed the two boys behind Dumbledore with curiosity. Their gazes flickered over Tom's handsome yet cold face, finally settling on Ares, captivated by his unusual hair color, heterochromatic eyes, and the golden markings on his face. They whispered amongst themselves, exchanging glances.

"That's the owner of The Leaky Cauldron, also named Tom," Dumbledore said, seemingly unfazed by the attention, introducing the pub owner to the boys beside him. He then led them through the pub towards a small, walled courtyard at the back.

The courtyard was piled with empty barrels and rubbish. There was nothing but brick walls.

Doubt flickered in Tom's eyes once more.

Dumbledore, however, was unhurried. He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a seemingly ordinary stick—his wand. He turned towards the brick wall and tapped a particular brick three times.

The brick he tapped began to tremble. Then, the bricks around it also started to move, rotating, and a narrow, small archway quickly appeared and expanded in the wall, eventually forming a wide archway that led to a winding, cobbled street that stretched out of sight.

Sunlight instantly poured in, illuminating the scene beyond the archway.

The clamor of voices, strange hawking sounds, the hooting of owls, and the sweet scent of candy, the smell of leather, the inky aroma of books, and the scent of some peculiar potion… it all rushed towards them.

For the first time, Tom Riddle, truly and without reservation, froze in place. His dark eyes widened, reflecting a bustling, bizarre street he had never imagined. Shop signs moved, shop windows displayed flying broomsticks, bubbling cauldrons, and crystal balls shimmering with mysterious light… Wizards and witches in colorful robes bustled past, and owls soared overhead.

His breathing quickened sharply, the mask-like composure on his face shattering completely, leaving only pure, unadulterated shock, overwhelmed by immense impact and ecstasy. This was… his world! The place where he truly belonged!

Although Ares had been mentally prepared, seeing this fantastical scene with his own eyes made his heart pound uncontrollably. This was Diagon Alley! The commercial heart of the magical world!

Dumbledore watched the two boys' reactions, so different yet equally profound, especially Tom's almost unconcealed greed and longing. A barely perceptible flicker of worry crossed his blue eyes, but it quickly vanished.

"Welcome," he said with a smile, stepping aside to clear the path and gesturing, "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

Tom, almost impatiently, was the first to step through the archway, as if stepping into his fated kingdom.

Ares took a deep breath, feeling the resonance between the magic within him and this magical street, and followed closely behind.

The dust of The Leaky Cauldron was left behind them. A new world, full of infinite possibilities and unknown dangers, opened up before them. And their destinies, beginning from this bustling alleyway, would sail towards an unpredictable future.