***************************

Chapter Three - Diagon Alley

*******************************

It was time for Geran and Holban to take the train to London, King's Cross, Platform Pi. Aberforth had joined them. He was even leaving Nellie behind, now that he had people to whose care he could leave her. "I made a bet with my brother", Aberforth told Holban. "I'll show him how one can teach with no reading or writing used at all. I do know it's a win-win situation for Albus as he either gets a decent teacher or wins a bet".

"I made arrangements to teach as well, Aberforth. I think I'll just have them write down the material by my dictation" Holban chuckled. "I do give you one credit, though. I shall see to it that they'll learn to think".

"Well, at least you're not using some books like those that good-for- nothing Lockhart wrote" Aberforth said, "but what exactly is the material you want them to write?"

"Rivan Laws" Holban replied. "The text of them. I have authentic copies from the originals. It is what I'm teaching, after all".

Aberforth nodded. "Good. At least you have sense, and expect them to have, too".

Geran didn't listen much to them, but concentrated instead on musing about his new studies. He couldn't bring his muggle friends, but he did have wolf to keep him company, and with any luck, he'd make new friends at Hogwarts.

Belsambar and Perenelle met them at the Platform, in the company of another couple of unknown people. "I presume you haven't as yet met Belmakor, or his wife, Wyndelin?" Belsambar introduced them.

"Wyndelin the Weird?" Geran said.

"No need to be insultive, young Geran" Belmakor put in, "even if she is referred so by some misunderstanding wizard who wrote the History of Magic - a book which I don't consider to be of much worth. Melcenes write much better history books about muggle history than he managed on magical history".

"I didn't mean anything insultive about it" Geran apologised.

"It's all right, dear" Wyndelin said. "Weird is a word for things and people we don't understand - and for someone coming from all another World it is hard to understand us, I suppose".

They quit their chatting. "Um... Belsambar mentioned about you to have managed to convince wizards on your death, so... what's your name now?"

"Wyndelin McGonagall" she said. "Thanks to our dear friends, death-pretence is no longer necessary, and I have been rather fond of my first name. However, we will need to move into your world sooner or later. I suppose I could leave that 'Weird' behind as I come, huh?"

"Of course, dear Lady" Geran replied. "I'm sorry to say that Belmakor's tower is in ruins, however — not that you'd have any trouble fixing it".

"I think I'll redesign it anyway" Belmakor said, "to fit better for married life, and now that I know charms that'll give me bigger space inside than out."

Belmakor went on to describe all sorts of constructive laws he could now ignore, and what sort of masterpiece his new tower would be. Geran didn't understand any of it, so he suggested they go shopping.

With laughter, the adults agreed. Holban who'd been silent near to all those sorcerers, organised their shopping-tour effectively. First they'd visit Gringotts for exchanging currency. Holban had the gold-coins Belgarion had given, enough to support both Holban and Geran. After that, Geran would go to Madam Malkin's robes for all occasions, as he'd need to be measured there, with Belsambar and Belmakor. Holban would do rest of the shopping with Perenelle and Wyndelin, as Wyndelin had the school list of required items.

At Madam Malkin's, Geran was asked to stand on a stool so that Madam Malkin could measure him. Geran noticed another boy standing on the stool next to him. A blond boy, his face scarred. "I don't think I've seen you before" he said. "You must be first year".

"Yes, I am" Geran replied uncertainly. For some reason, although this boy was a wizard, something in his manner reminded him of Tolnedrans, and that was not a good sign in Geran's book. He chose to be silent and observe, but that proved near impossible.

"So what's your favourite Quidditch Team?" the boy asked. Geran guessed that Quidditch was some sort of game.

"I don't consider it proper to pick a favourite before the game is over" Geran replied, making a mental note to learn what was Quidditch.

The boy was taken aback by that declaration. He said his family had been all wizards for a long time. "What about you? Not Muggles, are they?"

Geran laughed. "No. Not muggles" he said. Then he added, "but the terms wizard and witch don't apply either".

Madam Malkin had finished, and Holban had just arrived with a bag full of books. Geran left the boy wondering about Geran's truthful, yet unrevealing reply when it came to his parents. "So, did you get everything, Holban?" he asked, as Holban paid for the robes.

"I did, Geran" Holban told him. "All your list requires, and some more".

"Good. So, er... do you people know what's Quidditch?" Geran asked.

"A silly game where people fly on broomsticks" Aberfoth snorted. "They almost caused a little species of bird, the Golden Snidget to extinct before they came up with a charmed ball. I say, they should have thought of the ball much earlier".

They stopped for ice cream, a desert Geran had never tasted before. He decided he liked that, as well as all the other sweets they ate. Holban, however insisted that he had proper meals. To Geran's luck, no one insisted for him to eat spinach.

Not that Geran had it all fun as the train, Hogwarts Express, didn't leave for a week yet. Holban had decided that they go trough his books in the rooms they'd booked from Tom at the Leaky Cauldron.