Diagon Alley

"Ugh!"

At the edge of a quiet street, Jerry braced his right hand against a wall. His stomach churned, and nausea rose into his throat.

"Professor, how are you completely fine?"

"Take it a few more times and you'll get used to it. Besides, don't you find it fun? Exciting?"

Heh. That blasted Knight Bus will shake your old bones apart one day.

Professor Dumbledore had arrived at the orphanage early that morning to take Jerry to Diagon Alley. Jerry had expected him to use Apparition. Instead, Dumbledore had treated him to a ride on the Knight Bus, the wizarding world's own peculiar form of transport.

The Knight Bus traveled at incredible speed, automatically dodging every obstacle in its path.

It was hardly comfortable, though. It hurtled along wildly and slammed on the brakes at every stop. Passengers' belongings could roll all over the place, and passengers themselves could fall out of their seats or vomit from motion sickness.

Jerry swore that even if he died— even if he jumped off Hogwarts Castle—he would never ride that bus again.

"Professor, is this the Leaky Cauldron you were talking about?" Standing at the intersection, Jerry looked around. There weren't many pedestrians, but not one of them noticed the pub.

"Come on. Let's go in."

Once inside, Jerry found that it was just a cramped, filthy pub.

The place was dim and shabby, with a bar and a few tables tucked into the shadows of a corner.

Dirty, messy, run-down. That was Jerry's first impression. He couldn't imagine how those wizards managed to eat here.

"Professor Dumbledore, good morning! What brings you here today? Would you like a Butterbeer? On the house." Tom, the pub's owner, greeted them warmly.

"Not today. I'm taking a new student to Diagon Alley. Perhaps next time."

Tom glanced at Jerry. "I see. Follow me."

They went around the bar of the Leaky Cauldron and entered a small walled courtyard.

At first glance, there was nothing there but a rubbish bin and a few weeds. But the bricks above the bin concealed the entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Watch closely, little fellow. Count three bricks up from the rubbish bin, then two across. Tap the wall three times with your wand, and the entrance to Diagon Alley will open."

After three light taps of the wand, that brick began to tremble. The surrounding bricks shifted with it, rearranging themselves into a round hole that grew larger and larger until it became an archway. Beyond it lay a long, cobbled street.

"Sir, what if someone moves the rubbish bin?"

"Haha, plenty of people have asked that. Give it a try."

Jerry ran over, pulled the bin aside, and let go. As if it knew where it belonged, it slid straight back to its original spot.

"Tom put a spell on it so it returns by itself," Dumbledore explained.

"What if I steal the bin? All right, no one's that bored."

"The important thing isn't the bin. It's the brick you tap with your wand."

"Come along. It's time to buy your things," Dumbledore said gently. He took Jerry's hand and led him into Diagon Alley.

"First, let's go to Gringotts and get you some Galleons. Muggle money won't do you any good in the wizarding world. Wizards have their own currency. Galleons are made of gold using special magic. One Galleon equals seventeen Sickles, or four hundred and ninety-three Knuts."

"Wizard exchange rates are awful. How do you keep track of them?" Jerry couldn't help complaining.

Dumbledore burst out laughing.

"Professor, don't Goblins take anything from Muggles?"

"Not necessarily. They'll take gems and precious metals, but be prepared for them to drive down the price. The Goblins at Gringotts are very greedy."

Before long, the two reached Gringotts, a towering white building.

Goblin guards in scarlet-and-gold uniforms stood at the entrance, bowing to customers as they arrived.

It was Jerry's first time seeing Goblins. He looked them over carefully. They were short, with pale skin, flat noses, and protruding eyes. They looked strange indeed.

Jerry and Professor Dumbledore approached the second set of doors, which were silver and engraved with a warning: "Enter, stranger, but take heed of what awaits the sin of greed, for those who take, but do not earn..."

Jerry had his doubts about how these Goblins thought. What good were those words? If someone had come to rob the bank and was ready to risk his life, would he care about a warning? A few more guards would be far more useful.

Beyond the second set of silver doors was a spacious marble hall. Around a hundred Goblins sat behind a long counter, making hasty entries in large ledgers. Some weighed coins on scales, while others inspected gems through eyepieces.

Once inside, a Goblin in a suit and tie led Jerry and the professor to a small counter off to the side.

"Muggle-born first-year?"

"Yes, sir."

"First-years can borrow up to one hundred Galleons per term. Give me your acceptance letter."

"Sir, can I exchange pounds for Galleons?"

"Only first-years can, and there's a limit."

So much for that. Jerry had been planning to exchange pounds for Galleons in the future.

Jerry handed over his acceptance letter. Soon, the Goblin returned it along with a bag of Galleons.

"You may go, Mr. Green."

Uh, are Goblins always this efficient?

Jerry counted the Galleons in his hand and, once he was sure the amount was right, left the counter.

"Professor, it's done. I didn't expect Goblins to work so fast."

"Of course. People who deal with money tend to be efficient."

"Where are we going next, Professor?"

"Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. It's right next to Flourish and Blotts."

Diagon Alley wasn't very large, and they soon arrived at the robe shop.

"Welcome to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions." The speaker was a short, plump witch.

"Professor Dumbledore! How is it you're the one bringing a student to buy his school supplies this year?"

"When you get old, you feel like getting out and about. I haven't had much to do lately, so I came to help Professor McGonagall."

"Is this one of this year's new students? Just a moment, little fellow. I'll be right over to take your measurements."

"Of course, ma'am," Jerry replied politely.

Besides Jerry, three other students were in the robe shop: two boys and a girl. They looked about his age and were probably new students too.

They looked like they came from Pure-blood families. Their pride was practically written on their faces. All three had black hair, so they probably weren't Malfoy or his crowd.

Come to think of it, Jerry had been in Diagon Alley for nearly half a day and still hadn't run into a single important person.