Hello readers, I'm introducing yet another character this chapter.

Professor Daedalus McGonagall = Professor Minerva McGonagall

Thank you to everyone who read, followed or favourited.

When Hawthorne imagined a Hogwarts professor, he thought of posh accents and elbow patches. What he didn't expect was Professor McGonagall.

Rowan had been so excited by the concept of actually meeting one of his future teachers that he had dragged Hawthorne and Gracie into the front garden to keep watch for any arriving cars (no matter how often Gracie persisted they would most likely apparate - which Hawthorne found typical, Rowan would believe in magic, but still denied that teleportation was possible). After several hours of waiting, all three of them were bored out of their minds when a tabby cat emerged from the bushes.

Hawthorne couldn't believe his eyes when the small tabby suddenly elongated and grew, until it formed a man. Gracie and Rowan gasped, looking impressed at this display of magic, while Hawthorne stumbled back in shock. Hawthorne hated that he was the one who reacted the most strongly to the transformation - he knew that magic was possible - why shouldn't Gracie and Rowan's teacher also be cat? The other two looked on in admiration still, accepting the impossible. Hawthorne wondered how they could do it.

"You have got to teach me how to do that!" Rowan exclaimed.

Gracie frowned. "Isn't that ability really rare or something? Animagus isn't it called?"

The man smiled in amusement. "Yes, my animagus form is a cat. Well done for recognising it Miss Prince!"

Professor McGonagall looked pleased that they knew this knowledge, but he did look rather strict. His black hair was cropped short and around his eyes were a pair of glasses that mirrored the markings around the tabby's eyes. Hawthorne had to hold back a snigger - the glasses were decidedly feminine and looked absurd on the serious man.

"Would you please inform your parents of my arrival?" The professor asked. "We have a lot to get."

Hawthorne went back inside to tell his parents, leaving Rowan and Gracie to quiz the professor on animagi and transfiguration and a buch of other words Hawthorne didn't understand.

Gracie giggled, as for the third time, Hawthorne tried to walk in the opposite direction to the door of the Leaky Cauldron. His parents were each holding onto one of Rowan's hands and were being led inside with expressions of confusion on their faces.

Skimming around the edges of the dingy pub, McGonagall led them into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a couple of dustbins and some weeds poking up from the ground. Rowan wrinkled his nose at the smell from the bins, it didn't smell like they had been emptied in a while. Mr and Mrs Evans glanced around at the walls, as if wondering why they were there.

"Now," Professor McGonagall turned to face Gracie and Rowan. "Remember that the entrance is three up and two across."

"Three up, two across" muttered Gracie, trying to embed it in her memory.

Professor McGonagall produced his wand and tapped the said brick three times. Soon the bricks were twisting and turning, revealing a hole. Hawthorne gasped, as the bricks continued to churn, until they formed an enormous archway, leading to a cobbled street.

"Welcome," announced McGonagall, "to Diagon Alley."

The entire party was amazed by this transformation and stood admiring the street.

"That was so cool!" Rowan exclaimed, grinning. His parents nodded in agreement.

Gracie gave a small smile. Her father had once taken her to Diagon, but they had floo-ed in, so she had never seen the archway. Still, Rowan seemed entranced by any display of magic and Gracie laughed as she saw his face become filled with wonder at the displays in the shopfronts.

McGonagall lead them past the shops showing owls, telescopes and broomsticks towards the white building at the end of the alley. Rowan's eyes widened as he read the warning on the silver doors and Gracie squeezed his hand reassuringly, as they headed inside the wizarding bank.

Hawthorne watched the goblins count gold, while his parents exchanged their coins into wizard currency. He raised an eyebrow as the goblin explained the exchange rates from pounds to sickles and pounds to galleons.

"Why are there three types of coin? Isn't that needlessly complicated?" He asked Gracie.

Gracie shrugged. "Don't ask me, wizards just like to be different from muggles, I suppose."

"It's still needlessly complicated."

Rowan, Gracie and Hawthorne continued to bounce theories about why the wizarding currency was so backwards, when exiting the bank. Rowan was just claiming it was so only the goblins could understand it (a cunning plan so they could cheat the leprechauns out of their gold), when McGonagall lead them to the bookshop. Inside, there were thousands of books, of all sizes and ages. There were books that could talk, dusty tomes that would occasionally sneeze and a flock of books that one of the employees was trying to shoo into a cage.

Gracie winced, as a particularly vicious book snapped shut on the young employee's arm, tearing several of its pages. She wondered if the books she needed would be quite as violent. Peering into the cage, Gracie caught the name of the volume - The Monster Book of Monsters: First Edition. Gracie gave a sigh of relief that she didn't recognise it from her booklist.

Glancing around for her friends, Gracie spotted Rowan browsing the fiction section, while Hawthorne dragged his fingers across the spines of the books, looking in awe to be in a place full of so much knowledge. Mr and Mrs Evans were talking with a shop assistant about their books, while McGonagall helped a now disheveled looking employee round up the remaining monster books that kept getting out of their cage.

After collecting their books, they roamed the shops collecting school supplies. The initial euphoria of being in a magical environment had now worn off somewhat and Rowan no longer exclaimed with joy every time someone pulled out their wand to perform a mundane task, making the outing seem much more like a regular shopping trip. However, Gracie noticed that ever since the bookshop, Hawthorne had been looking down. He no longer appeared to have any energy left, his feet were dragging along the cobbled road and he showed no more astonishment to his surroundings.

She was about to go and ask him what was wrong, when Rowan seized her hand. "Come on, Gracie!" He pulled her along towards a shop called Ollivanders. "McGonagall says we can get our wands now!"

Rowan was almost bursting with excitement and Gracie couldn't help getting swept up in it, so she let him lead her away. Behind, Hawthorne watched with an unreadable expression, as laughing, they entered Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. He felt an unfamiliar tug inside his gut. He didn't belong here.

So, Hawthorne's getting jealous! I couldn't resist adding in some ideas which popped into my head when I started writing this chapter - let me know what you think!

Next chapter, Gracie and Rowan get their wands, while Hawthorne gets a minor adventure of his own.