The Dust of the Leaky Cauldron

August 1937 arrived quietly amid anticipation and planning. London's summer carried a sticky, humid heat, yet the hearts of the two boys at Wool's Orphanage burned hotter than ever.

That morning, when Albus Dumbledore appeared at the orphanage gates once more, he was still wearing a brightly colored robe—royal blue this time—which looked utterly out of place against the drab surroundings. His gaze swept over Tom and Ares standing side by side, lingering on Ares's face for a moment with his usual searching curiosity, but he said nothing.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?" he asked with a smile, his tone casual, as though he were merely taking them on an ordinary outing.

Tom nodded, his face carefully arranged into a proper expression that blended nervousness and anticipation. Ares seemed quieter, only giving a soft "Mm."

They had no extra luggage, only an old cloth bag Mrs. Cole had stuffed with a few changes of clothes, along with their acceptance letters and supply lists tucked close against their bodies.

Dumbledore did not use any magical mode of transportation they had imagined. He simply led them through London's noisy streets, took them onto a crowded Underground train, and finally walked into an ordinary, even somewhat run-down street—Charing Cross Road.

Tom's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, a trace of doubt in his eyes. This was the entrance to the magical world he had dreamed of? It was no different from the filthy Muggle world.

Ares, guided by the system's faint prompt and his foreknowledge, sharply scanned both sides of the street. At last, his gaze settled on a dirty, cramped shop between a bookstore loudly calling for customers and another storefront.

It looked like a shabby entrance long forgotten by everyone, with a tottering wooden sign hanging above it. A faded broken cauldron was painted on it. The sign read: The Leaky Cauldron.

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

Dumbledore walked straight toward the entrance, as if he had not noticed the strange phenomenon of the passing Muggles completely overlooking the place. He pushed open the wooden door, which looked ready to fall apart.

A warm, peculiar scent washed over them, mingling pipe smoke, aged beer, and some kind of herb. Completely unlike the brightness and clamor outside, the bar's interior was dim and noisy. Several oddly dressed people in robes sat whispering in the shadows of the corners. An old witch with nearly all her teeth gone cackled by the fireplace, smoking a long pipe. The air was steeped in an ancient, mysterious atmosphere utterly cut off from the Muggle world.

Tom's footsteps paused almost imperceptibly the instant he entered the bar. His black eyes swiftly swept across the entire room, gleaming with barely restrained excitement and a trace of instinctive disdain. This was the magical world? It looked... not particularly glorious.

Ares 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 this environment filled with traces of magic.

The bartender, Tom—a toothless, hunched old man—immediately showed a respectful yet somewhat fearful smile when he saw Dumbledore. "Professor Dumbledore! What a rare guest! The usual?"

"Not today, Tom," Dumbledore said mildly. "I've brought two new students to buy their supplies."

Several regulars in the bar curiously examined the two boys behind Dumbledore. Their gazes swept over Tom's handsome yet cold face before finally settling on Ares. Drawn by his unusual hair color, mismatched eyes, and the golden markings on his face, they exchanged murmurs and whispered among themselves.

"That is the owner of the Leaky Cauldron. His name is Tom as well," Dumbledore introduced to the two boys beside him, as though he had not noticed the stares. Then he led them through the bar toward a small walled courtyard at the back.

The courtyard was piled with empty beer barrels and rubbish. Apart from the brick walls, there was nothing there.

Doubt surfaced in Tom's eyes again.

Unhurried, Dumbledore drew what looked like an ordinary wooden stick from his robe pocket—his wand. Turning toward the brick wall, he lightly tapped a particular brick three times.

The brick he had tapped began to tremble. Then the bricks around it started to shift and rotate. A narrow little archway quickly appeared in the wall and widened, eventually forming a broad passageway leading to a winding cobblestone street that stretched beyond sight.

Sunlight poured through at once, illuminating the scene beyond the archway.

Lively voices, all manner of strange cries from vendors, the hooting of owls, and the sweet scent of candy mingled with leather, fresh ink from books, and some peculiar potion smell all rushed toward them at once.

For the first time, Tom Riddle truly and completely froze in place. His black eyes widened, reflecting a bustling, fantastical street beyond anything he had ever imagined. Shopfronts bore moving signs. Their display windows held flying brooms, bubbling cauldrons, and crystal balls gleaming with mysterious light... Wizards and witches in robes of every color moved through the crowd, while owls swept overhead.

His breathing suddenly quickened. The masklike calm on his face shattered completely, leaving only pure shock, overwhelmed by the enormous impact and wild joy. This was... his world! The place where he truly belonged!

Although Ares had prepared himself, seeing this dreamlike scene with his own eyes still made his heart race. This was Diagon Alley! The magical world's central commercial street!

Dumbledore watched the boys' vastly different yet equally profound reactions. In particular, seeing the greed and longing Tom could barely conceal, a flicker of almost imperceptible concern passed through his blue eyes before quickly vanishing.

"Welcome," he said with a smile, stepping aside and gesturing for them to proceed. "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

Tom was almost unable to wait as he became the first to pass through the archway, as though he were stepping into a kingdom destined to be his.

Ares drew a deep breath, feeling the magic within him resonate with the magical street, and followed close behind.

The dust of the Leaky Cauldron was left behind them. Before them, a brand-new world filled with limitless possibilities and unknown dangers opened wide. And from this bustling alley, their fates would set sail toward an unpredictable distance.