Chapter Two:

Diagon Alley

Sunday, August 1st, 1993,

United Kingdom, England, London, Diagon Alley,

Kali Kalakaua Lupin Morrigan Black,

Kali had never been to wizarding London. She'd been wanting to visit it ever since she could remember, but despite the yearly trips to the city when she was younger, her family had always avoided this part of it. They'd never disclosed why they'd chosen to steer clear, but Kali could hazard a guess, and if she was right, she thought they were being a bit silly, but that was adults for you. Either way, she was about to get her first glimpse of this much dreamed of place and she was buzzing with excitement.

"Do you think that book store Remus is always talking about is still open?" asked Pan, his voice sounding only in her mind.

"I hope so," she thought back. "And I hope the ice cream parlor is still open, too.

"Of course you do," he said teasingly, nipping lightly at her fingers as she stroked him.

The Leaky Cauldron looked very unassuming from the outside, although it was even more so for the Muggles, to whom the old pub looked so inconspicuous they couldn't even see it. The brick facade was grimy, so covered in centuries worth of soot and pollution that it was almost black. There weren't any windows facing this side of the street that might have helped break up the monotony and blandness of it. The architecture was simplistic, reflecting its 16th century origins with its timber frame and its uneven brick wall. It didn't look like the gateway to the magical world, but then again, that was kind of the point.

"I do hate the English weather," said Gran, giving the cloudy grey sky a disdainful look as icy raindrops pelted the ground around them, but failed to fall on the four of them.

"We should get inside," said Remus. "We don't want to keep Professor McGonagall waiting."

The inside of the pub was just as gloomy and shabby as the outside was. The high windows were coated in dirt, and that, combined with the overcast sky, meant that little natural light made it into the large room. The artificial lighting was provided by candles and oil-burning lamps that did little to disperse the shadows. A roaring fire chased away the chill and provided a little extra brightness, but its illumination was constantly being interrupted by wizards and witches using the Floo system, making the flames flash green, and casting an eerie glow around the bar.

As Kali gave the pub a more thorough once-over, she started thinking that perhaps the lack of lighting was done on purpose to hide the extent of the dilapidation of the building. The beams were rotted away by the ages and layers of plaster were missing from the walls. The dust and grime seemed to be ingrained into every visible surface and nothing but the strongest cleaning charm would be able to get rid of it, and Kali wasn't sure even that could do the job. Owls swooped in from an open window every so often, depositing an envelope or package in someone's lap, as well as feathers and droppings onto the floor. Kali could hear the mice and rats scurrying from one dark corner of the room to the next – there were enough of them to keep Pan well fed for years.

Clearly the pub's health and safety regulations hadn't evolved much since it had been built, but the other patrons didn't seem to be all that bothered by it. A raucous group of middle-aged men was sitting in a corner, waving their drinks around as they shouted and laughed, spilling most of the content of their pints on the floor. A few old women were sat a couple of tables away, drinking from tiny shot glasses that had smoke billowing out of them. A little man in a top hat was leaning against the bar, smoking a long pipe which puffed out blue smoke. The old bartender, who was bald and lacking in teeth, was very dexterously serving drinks to two girls who barely looked old enough to drink.

The low buzz of chatter quietened when they walked in as everyone turned to get a look at the motley trio that had joined their midsts. The quick glances turned into stares, and Kali wasn't sure who held their attention the most. Gran with her statuesque figure, towering over most people at 6 feet tall, and overshadowing just about everyone with the high heels she always wore. Remus with his scars and glowing eyes that had turned from golden green into amber as the full moon approached. Or Kali herself, who had an oncilla draped over her shoulder – Pan categorically refused to be put down in case he got squashed – and who looked an awful lot like the man in the wanted posters that were plastered all over the pub's interior.

One woman rose and started toward them, and Kali felt Remus relax ever so slightly. The woman's square spectacles glinted in the weak light, and the flickering flames made her prim expression look even more severe. She was tall, but not tall enough to look Remus and Gran in the eye without craning her neck.

"Hello, Mister Lupin," she said. "It's been a long time. You look well."

"Yes, it has, Professor. Thank you," said Remus, then, pointing to Gran, Kali, and Pan in turn, he introduced them. "This is Freyja Morrigan, and her granddaughter Kali, and on Kali's shoulder is Pandoran."

The Professor shook first Gran's hand then Kali's, her attention resting on Kali longer than it had on the girl's grandmother. "Is it Kali Morrigan or Kali Black?"

She'd asked the question quietly, but in the dead silence that had enveloped the pub, she could have been shouting for all the difference it made. The whispers broke out immediately.

"Did she just say Black?"

"As in…"

"Murderer's daughter…"

"She looks just like him…"

"Didn't even know the bastard had a child…"

"She'll turn out just like him, just you watch…"

As expected, it didn't take anyone very long to figure it out. Until this very moment, as far as they were aware, there was only one Black left, the man from the posters, the murderer who'd killed thirteen people and betrayed his closest friends. It wasn't much of a stretch then, to see a young girl bearing his name and his facial features and to connect the dots.

The whispers didn't bother Kali; they weren't particularly pleasant, but it was nothing she hadn't already mentally prepared herself for. These people didn't know her, and if they were going to judge her on whom her father was, then they weren't worth the time of day. The nasty comments did, however, bother Remus who was getting more and more tense as the seconds passed, his teeth grinding together so hard Kali could hear them.

"Both," answered Kali, leaning into Remus in the hopes of distracting him. His arm went around her shoulders protectively, but he didn't relax much. "But Black is fine."

McGonagall's raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

Kali could feel Remus's hold on her tightening, she knew he wanted her to change her mind, but she also knew that she wouldn't. She had four surnames to choose from – her mother's: Morrigan; her father's: Black; her step-father's: Kalakaua; and Remus's: Lupin – and only one of them came attached with connotations so dark they would likely affect Kali negatively if she chose to use it, yet that was the one she was going with. Call it stupidity or stubbornness, but she had her reasons, and she wasn't going to let a bit of name calling deflect her from them.

"Yes, ma'am," she said with the flash of a smile.

The smile seemed the catch the Professor off guard, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly, but within a couple of blinks the look was gone and her dignified expression was back in place.

"Very well," said the Professor. "I have reserved a private parlor for us to conduct our business. Follow me."

She led them away from the still whispering crowd, down a narrow passageway, and into a room that looked just as decrepit as the rest of the pub.

"Tom will be by shortly with tea and biscuits," said McGonagall. "Please, sit."

Without the various flames from the main room throwing shadows over the Professor's features she looked younger, although it was still difficult to say how old she actually was.

Wizard-kind aged differently from Muggles, with a life expectancy of 137¾ years. And while certain wizards and witches aged at the same rate as Muggles did – and ended up looking like glorified corpses after awhile – others, like Gran, benefited from prolonged youth. This was often a source of envy for those who had not been so lucky. And while Professor McGonagall's black hair, held in a strict bun, boasted no white strands and her face had very few lines, her eyes were harsh and ancient and very old indeed.

"Usually, it is Professor Dumbledore who handles the job interviews," said Professor McGonagall to Remus. "But your past job experience and the glowing recommendation letters he has received convinced him you would be perfect for the position. Which makes this merely a formality."

Remus lost some of the tension in his shoulders as the interview progressed, if it could be called an interview at all. It looked more like old friends catching up after a few years apart. When McGonagall ran out of questions that could be deemed – at a stretch – work-related, and Remus gave a demonstration of his skill, they moved on to the next matter at hand.

"So you wish to transfer to Hogwarts, is that right, Miss Black?" asked Professor McGonagall, looking through some of her papers.

"Yes, ma'am," said Kali.

"Your formal education has been quite… unique," said the Professor going through Kali's transcript. "You started attending a Muggle school in Hawaii when you were five and continued there until you were eleven, all the while receiving an after school magical education provided by various adults, none of whom appear to be professional teachers, other than Mister Lupin. During those years, you also irregularly attended Escuela Primaria Para Jóvenes Mágicos in Argentina and a magical primary school in Israel, the name of which I cannot read, let alone pronounce. You then attended Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for a year when you were eleven, and last year you were enrolled at the San Francisco Institute of Magic…" She glanced at Kali over the rim of her glasses. "Is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kali answered.

She returned to her reading, summarizing as she went. "Your test results have always been excellent; top of your class in every school; plenty of extracurricular activities; your teachers have all given glowing assessments of your work ethic and capabilities, as well as your attitude and personality. You're an outstanding student, Miss Black. Hogwarts would be happy to have you."

"Thank you, Professor," said Kali with a grin.

"You're welcome, Miss Black," said McGonagall, handing Kali an envelope. "In there you'll find your acceptance letter, a list of school supplies which you can buy in Diagon Alley, and your train ticket for the 1st of September."

"Where should she go after the train?" asked Remus. "Should she follow the First Years to the boats and join them for the Sorting ceremony?"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Yes. Hogwarts doesn't get many transfer students, but that is generally how it is done. She will be the first to be Sorted, and I will announce what year she'll be in when I call her name. Do you have any question, Miss Black?"

She didn't. As McGonagall was packing up her papers, Gran invited her to join them for dinner, McGonagall declined, but Gran insisted, and she was not the kind of person you said no to.

Pan stayed at the Leaky Cauldron after spotting a particularly big rat, and the rest of them headed through the secret entrance into Diagon Alley. The narrow street was practically empty at this time of day, especially with the weather being so dismal. The rain fell like mist on the dark alley lit only by oil lamps and the light seeping out of the second story windows of rickety, old buildings. The only sounds to be heard were the light patter of rain falling on roof shingles and cobblestones, the flapping wings and soft hoots of busy owls, and the distant yowling of fighting cats. Kali felt sure that with the bustle and noise of the daytime, the street would take on a whole new appearance, nevertheless, her first impression of it was that of a dark and hazy dream.

Gran had only been to Diagon Alley a handful of times when she was much younger, but that didn't mean she didn't know exactly where the best restaurant on the street was or that she couldn't get them a table, despite the lack of a reservation. The restaurant had a roof terrace, but most people had chosen to eat indoors to avoid the rain, Gran, however, was perfectly willing to face the dreadful weather if it meant extra privacy. She cast the same umbrella charm as she had earlier over their table to keep it dry, as well as some floating orbs of light to brighten the gloom.

McGonagall took a great interest in the first spell that they apparently didn't have in the U.K. which was shocking given the amount of rain they got here, and that started them all off on an amiable conversation about local and international magic. Professor McGonagall became more comfortable as the evening progressed and Kali decided that she liked her. The Professor may have been prim and strict, and Kali didn't doubt that she made for a demanding teacher, but she was also intelligent, and she hadn't looked down on Kali when she'd joined in on the conversation, as some adults had been known to do.

The emerald green robes the Professor wore were a source of fascination for Kali who'd only very rarely seen these kinds of wizarding clothes, and McGonagall was quick to explain the ins and outs of wizarding fashion trends in the U.K. as well as list the ups and downs of wizarding robes.

By the time they parted ways from the Professor, it was very late. The rain had cleared, the owls had gone hunting elsewhere, and even the cats had called it a night. The silence and emptiness of the street had gone from mystical and enchanting to eerie and mysterious. It felt like there was an adventure waiting to happen just around the corner.

Kali ran ahead of Remus and Gran, jumping over puddles and peering into darkened shop windows, all the while staying well within Remus's line of sight because she knew what he was like.

This hidden realm was the size of a small town, stretching well beyond Diagon Alley, branching off into other side-streets and alleyways, expanding outward right in the centre of London. Kali was eager to explore every last inch of it, but Gran insisted they find a hotel – not the Leaky Cauldron, she refused to set foot back in there unless absolutely necessary – and get some sleep because they had an early start tomorrow. They had to leave the High Street to find somewhere suitable, but they did eventually encounter an acceptable place. However, calling it a hotel was a bit of an overstatement. Wizarding London had yet to catch up with the modern age, so the best they could find was an old-fashioned inn. Gran grudgingly gave it her approval only because she was tired, otherwise Kali was sure that she would have marched right back out into Muggle London and booked a suite at The Ritz or Claridge's or somewhere equally as luxurious.

Frogspawn Inn – perhaps it was the name that was putting Gran off more than anything – could best be described as quaint. The bricks of the stone wall were charmingly off-kilter, and the entire building seemed to lean to the right a little. There were mismatched flower pots filled with mismatched flowers on every windowsill, and the front door was made of heavy oak and painted a vibrant red and the colour was chipping off in places.

Within, the panelled walls were hung with scenic paintings of lakes and mountains and fields. One little farmer who'd been busy shepherding his sheep, waved merrily at the newcomers from inside his frame, unwittingly losing two of his lambs who made a run for it the minute his back was turned. The carpet that covered the tilled floor was worn and faded, and the furniture was well-used. But it was clean and homely, and the woman at the front desk smiled at them warmly when they stopped in front of her.

"I suppose it would be too much to hope for a suite," said Gran wearily.

"'Fraid so, Madam," said the innkeeper. "But I have some very comfortable adjoining rooms, if you'd like."

"Three rooms, then, with at least two adjoining," said Gran, removing several gold Galleons from her purse.

"That's too much, Madam," said the innkeeper, eyeing the stack of gold coins half fearfully, half hungrily.

"There is water damage to the ceiling and walls," said Gran, not even looking at the woman as she removed her leather gloves, "as well as strategically placed buckets in case of dripping. The problem is recent, but still you ought to get it fixed."

Kali's gaze darted around the room taking in these details she'd missed on her first sweep of the place. She'd been too occupied finding all the nice things about the inn that she'd missed the flaws. Whereas those were all her Gran had seen, it would seem.

"I can't take your money," said the woman, looking horrified and embarrassed.

Gran scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. You have small children to feed, and an inn collapsing in on itself, now is not the time for pride. Take the money, I ask for nothing in return."

The innkeeper looked shaken, but Gran was using her no-nonsense voice and she would not be argued with. The woman nodded meekly and handed Remus three room keys. Remus hurriedly guided Kali and Gran out of the reception area and up the stairs.

"You came this close to getting us kicked out," Remus said to Gran as he checked the room numbers on the key tags.

"I don't see what the problem is with offering money to those in need," said Gran indifferently.

"You're not offering it, though," he said as they walked past ball of yarn and two knitting needles that were busy making what looked like a mile-long scarf. "That would imply that they can refuse. You're forcing it on them."

"Only because their misplaced pride won't allow them to take it."

Gran and Remus often argued about money. Mum used to say that it was because Remus had grown up with very little, which had made him self-reliant, and Gran had grown up with everything she could ever have wanted, which had made her very generous, and those two traits clashed rather spectacularly especially when combined with the natural stubbornness of both Remus and Gran.

Kali's room was nice. Sparsely decorated and small, but still nice. One door led to a tiny on-suite bathroom where the mirror sang her praise tunelessly as she brushed her teeth:

"Oh, you have such lovely hair, so dark, so long! Ah, and your skin! Lovely, beautiful, the sun-kissed look suits you! And what striking eyes you have, absolutely captivating! Keep on brushing those pearly whites, now, you stunning girl, I bet your smile is to die for! My, you could cut someone with that jawline. Flawless bone structure! Flawless, I say! Such strong cheekbones, so intense! Oh, and that blush warms your cheeks so nicely -"

It kept loudly exalting every part of her face even as she hurried out of the room and closed the door behind her.

The other door led to Remus's room. She could hear him pacing through the thin wall. She wanted to go through there and tell him to go to bed, he'd be up all night tomorrow because of the full moon, and he needed his rest. But she knew that if she did, he would try to convince her to leave, to go back to the States, where it was nice and safe and far away from anything too emotionally messy. She didn't feel up to arguing with him again, so she tried to ignore those frantic steps of an anxious man.

She hopped onto her bed and sank a little lower than expected as the springs groaned beneath her. She snickered as she imagined Gran next door staring at her own bed distastefully, and expertly transfiguring it into a mahogany four-poster with silk sheets – which was something Kali had seen her do before, more than once.

Kali avidly tore into her acceptance letter and read through it:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Third-years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade at certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.

Term begins on September 1. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross Station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Kali browsed over the letter and the accompanying book list and permission slip over and over, letting it all sink in.

"We're going to Hogwarts," she said to Pan as he prowled one of the dark streets below in search of easy prey. "We're finally going to see where Remus and Dad went to school."

"Don't get too exited," he said. "This could still go terribly wrong, and if the reaction of the people at the Leaky Cauldron is any indication, it will."

"We'll be fine. We just have to clear Dad's name. How difficult can it be?"

Pan didn't have an answer to that, but she knew he wasn't optimistic. It didn't matter, though, she knew what she had to do. She would prove her father's innocence. She had to.