The Garlic-Turban Stuttering Freak Who Didn't Follow the Plot!

Diggle's wand was also a C-rank magical item. In fact, most wizards' wands in the Leaky Cauldron were C-rank. Only a few elderly wizards and those with formidable temperaments possessed B-rank wands.

Based on the system's appraisal information and Dudley's deductions, a brand-new wand should have been D-rank. As a wizard used it, nourishing it with magic and imbuing it with the mystery of spells, the wand's rating would rise.

At the same time, wear and tear during use would lower a wand's rating.

Based on a wand's rating, one could roughly infer its owner's combat strength.

Wizards who knew few spells and possessed weak magic could provide only limited nourishment to their wands. Even if they used them every day and maintained them carefully, their wands would merely hover around C-rank, just like Hagrid, who hardly used his wand at all.

This gave Dudley some understanding of how Voldemort, a mere gang leader, had managed to rule Britain's magical world. His enemies being too powerful was only the superficial reason; the real reason was that most wizards were genuinely useless.

Not only were they weak, their thought processes were bizarre as well.

Without witnessing anything firsthand, they had believed, based solely on public opinion and hearsay, that Harry, a baby at the time, had defeated the Dark Lord who ruled them all.

How had he defeated him? What had he used to defeat him?

No one cared.

They only knew how to worship him blindly.

Even more absurdly, afterward, they did not even exercise the basic caution of "dead or alive, there must be a body." They simply believed Voldemort was dead and started popping champagne in celebration.

Thinking of Voldemort, Dudley vaguely felt that something was wrong. He swept his gaze across the wizards in the Leaky Cauldron again and finally noticed what was off.

He did not see Quirinus Quirrell—the first-year Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from the original story, the one whose back of the head had been inhabited by Voldemort, who wore a turban, sprayed "garlic perfume," and stuttered when he spoke.

According to the original plot, Quirrell should have been here in the Leaky Cauldron right now, just like these wizard fans, meeting Harry for the first time under Hagrid's introduction.

But now, he was not here.

If he was not here, then where was he?

Oh no!

Dudley suddenly woke up. Someone was trying to steal what was already in his bag!

"Harry! Hagrid! It's getting late!" Dudley called out loudly.

Hagrid also realized they had delayed for rather too long. One of the people shaking Harry's hand had already lined up for a second turn.

Harry, too, was struggling to endure the excessive enthusiasm of his wizard fans. Hearing this, he felt as though he had been pardoned and hurriedly grabbed Dudley's and Hagrid's strong hands.

Hagrid led the two of them through the crowd, around the bar counter, and into a small space enclosed by red brick walls.

Other than a trash bin placed against the wall, there was nothing there.

Hagrid drew his umbrella wand, lightly tapped the brick above the trash bin with its tip, and muttered the method for Door Opening—counting up, counting across, finding the wall brick that opened the way...

Harry found it fascinating and listened with great attention.

Dudley had no mood to care about such trivial matters now. He was in a hurry.

The bricks churned and formed an archway, opening the gateway to Diagon Alley.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley!" Hagrid introduced enthusiastically.

The commercial street, filled with all kinds of wizard shops, was prosperous. Wizards came and went, making the place look lively and peaceful.

There were cauldron shops, stationery shops, robe shops, wand shops, pet shops, large apothecaries, publishing houses, travel agencies, newspaper offices, beauty potion shops, and Quidditch specialty stores. There were even shops that bought and sold used goods...

The sheer variety was dazzling.

Every shop sign came with its own animated effect, making the street seem both old-fashioned and magical.

It was Dudley's and Harry's first time here, and they found it novel enough that they could not help taking a few extra looks.

But unlike Harry, who kept looking around without pause, Dudley restrained himself and naturally urged them onward.

"Hagrid, hurry and take us to Gringotts to withdraw money! With so many amazing shops around, being able to look but not buy is torture!"

"Oh! Dudley! You're absolutely right! Let's go!" Hagrid replied. "Gringotts is at the end of Diagon Alley, where it connects with Knockturn Alley. But Knockturn Alley isn't a good place. It's full of dark wizards..."

Hagrid began rambling again as they walked and talked.

Being extraordinarily tall, every step he took was worth three or four of Dudley's and Harry's, so they moved quickly.

Dudley led Harry in quickly following him. As they walked, he secretly gave Harry's right wrist three light squeezes.

Harry immediately became alert. He no longer had the leisure to admire Diagon Alley's scenery. His cousin's signal meant to remain on continuous guard. Could Diagon Alley be unsafe?

That made sense. Hagrid had said Diagon Alley connected to Knockturn Alley. Dark wizards could very well be roaming around and committing crimes!

Thus, now on guard, Harry and Dudley followed behind Hagrid as he cleared the way ahead. They soon arrived before an exceptionally tall white building, passed through its glittering brass doors, and entered Gringotts, the goblin-run bank.

Under the guidance of a goblin attendant, the three of them entered Gringotts' service hall, a marble chamber where nearly a hundred short, ugly, goblin-like goblins busied themselves.

Hagrid found a goblin who was less occupied and stated his needs, including Harry's withdrawal of money from the Potter family vault and Dumbledore's request that he collect a "confidential item" on his behalf.

Hagrid then took a golden key and a letter from the breast pocket of the shirt beneath his new coat and handed them to the goblin.

The goblin carefully inspected both items, especially Dumbledore's handwritten retrieval letter.

After confirming that there was no problem, the goblin summoned a goblin named Griphook, handed him the golden key, and instructed him to take Hagrid, Harry, and Dudley to retrieve items from the two underground vaults.

"Follow me!" said the goblin named Griphook.

Hagrid and the other two followed him out of the hall and through another doorway.

Everything was normal, which left Dudley with mixed feelings. He did not know whether Quirrell had yet to infiltrate Gringotts' underground vaults or had already succeeded without a sound.

Dudley, this butterfly from another world, had barely even flapped his wings. Why were the original story's characters already refusing to follow the script?

It was infuriating! Garlic-Turban Stuttering Freak!

Just let me catch an opportunity. I'll make sure to kill you!

Dudley seethed inwardly. At that moment, Griphook had already led them into a marble corridor leading to the underground vaults.

A railway ran down the middle of the corridor, winding into the darkness deep within.

Griphook blew a whistle and used goblin methods to summon a small cart with a carriage compartment that came speeding along the tracks.

"Get on!"

With that, Griphook jumped into the front of the cart's compartment first.

There was not much room left for the three of them.

"Um..." Harry hesitated. The remaining space in the cart did not seem large enough for all three of them, especially with Hagrid's enormous bulk.

Dudley had a flash of inspiration and immediately arranged, "Harry, you and Hagrid get on. I'll sit on Hagrid's shoulders!"