3: Diagon Alley

Harry woke up to a sumptuous meal as soon as he stepped right into the kitchen. His mouth watered at the plate of waffles on the table with oozing syrup and melting butter on top. Next to it, a pitcher of milk hovered in the air filling a glass of its contents on its own before setting itself back in its place.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" his uncle greeted instead of the usual "good morning" greeting he does over the morning paper he was reading.

Harry squealed in delight and rushed to his uncle's side to give him a wide-armed hug. The pepper of smooches the boy filled his face on was far beyond a simple 'thank you' can make.

"I take it you liked your birthday breakfast then." Edward mused.

"Yes! Yes! Oh, thank you, Uncle Teddy. This is brilliant," said Harry. It has become an annual tradition between both young men to be welcomed by a hearty feast as a courtesy of the old and feeble family house elf named Kreacher. The tiny elf is rarely seen lurking around, but everyone knows he runs the entire house since the days of older generations of the Black Family.

"And don't forget to thank Kreacher, yeah?" Edward reminded him.

"Oh! Sorry, thank you, Kreacher." Harry said, facing a random corner hoping the poor house elf could've heard his words of gratitude somewhere.

The man allowed his nephew to indulge in his meal first before launching on their plans for the day ahead, and when he finally noticed the boy's pacing had relaxed instead of stuffing his face with food like a mad barbarian, Edward pulled out a yellowish envelope out of nowhere and placed it on the table next to the boy.

"What's this?" Harry asked. Curious.

"Why don't you open it?" said Edward.

The boy did as he was told. Addressed in emerald, green to Mr. H. Black, Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Islington London, he pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

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

Dear Mr. Black,

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

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Questions exploded inside Harry's head like fireworks. He couldn't decide which to ask first. For one thing, he knew the letter was from Hogwarts, of course – he should've started squealing by now or jumped around the house or rammed his Uncle Teddy out of joy – but he didn't. What is it about a list of all necessary equipment anyway?

"When they said they await my owl, does that mean I'm supposed to send them a reply via owl post?" He asked bewilderingly.

"Right, you are there, Harry." Edward beamed smugly. He looked terribly pleased of himself seeing the reaction on his nephew's face.

"Oh! That means a trip to Diagon Alley then!"

He nodded, "I hope you are up for some legwork today, champ. We've got lots to do, places to go, things to buy." he told him.

Harry nodded. "Of course, of course. I can't wait! We're definitely going to see the magical menagerie, the apothecary, the Quidditch store, and of course, the Wizarding Bank!" on and on the boy made a list of the shops and establishments in Diagon Alley they're going to drop by with his fingers.

Again, Edward had that urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't blaming Harry for getting over excited on petty things. After all, it was his fault the boy had never been there in the first place. As a prominent child and an esteemed member of high wizarding society, his nephew is destined to be swarmed with gossip and politics watching his every move. And he wanted to give Harry a pleasant and peaceful childhood first before his formal indoctrination into their world when he turns eleven.

"Well then, let's get to our feet and start this day ahead." He chipped.

"Let's go! Let's go!"

Like any normal British families, the Blacks of course owned a car. What makes the vintage 1930 Rolls-Royce Phantom different from other vehicles though was that it practically runs on its own - without a driver maneuvering the steering wheel. After Edward got into the rear passenger side when he had Harry settled in, he simply uttered, "to the Leaky Cauldron," to no one and the car engine roared into life.

After a crazy ride down the outskirts of downtown London, they were dropped off by their non-existent chauffeur in front of a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If his uncle hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't even glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the entrance bearing the name, "The Leaky Cauldron" at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Edward could see it. Before he could test his theory though, his uncle already steered him inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. If there's one thing Harry had learned from the other man, it is the ability to tell the difference between posh and plebeian and this place is definitely not one of those. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter continued as they walked in. A few of the patrons seemed to have recognized Edward, although they didn't smile, some of them tilted their heads a bit– a gesture usually given to an esteemed Lord of the House.

At last, Harry's curiosity took over him. "Uncle Teddy, what exactly are we doing here?" he asked in a whisper.

Edward gave him a sage look and smirked, "you'll find out soon," he said. His uncle led them through the bar and out into a small walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds. The man grinned at Harry as he began to count the bricks in the wall above the trash can. "Alright, three up… two across…" he muttered. "Stand back, champ." He tapped the wall three times with his wand.

The brick he had touched quivered – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared. It grew wider and wider until they were facing an archway large enough even for a giant to get through, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Mon Cheri," said Edward in a deliberately accented French, "welcome to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at his nephew's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall.

So, this is Diagon Alley. The young man thought. He had only read about it from books or from overhearing some of his uncle's conversations with his acquaintances.

He knew it. Uncle Teddy was messing with him.

The place is as wonderful as he anticipated. It was as grand as the Ville de Magie in Paris, as enchanting as Magische Stadt in Budapest, and as charming as Dragonolui in Romania. All in all, it is as stunning as every other magical district he had visited with his uncle in the other side of the world.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons – all sizes – copper, brass, pewter, silver – self-stirring – collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Still got your letter, champ?" Edward asked as they passed by the shop selling cauldrons.

The boy took the parchment envelope out of his pocket. Only then he noticed a second piece of paper enclosed with the letter he had read and unfolded it.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (Black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set of glass or crystal phials

1 telescope set

1 brass scales

Students may also bring with them an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Harry looked at the man next to him in utter confusion.

"Yeah, we will definitely need to buy all of those," Edward remarked, "but first and most important of all, we need to go to the bank."

The boy wished he had eight more eyes. Harry turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen sickles an ounce, they're mad…"

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium – Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age – much to his delight – had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus 2000 – fastest ever –" There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had barely recognized or other things he might have come across somewhere around the Black Ancestral House, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…

"And that's Gringotts," said Edward.

They had reached an alabaster white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold were two creatures Harry was already familiar with from his visit to Egypt about two years ago.

"Goblins," he murmured under his breath as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry observed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in return.

So, if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there

"You'll be mad if you try to rob something out of this place," Edward heeded at Harry's side with a smirk.

A pair of goblins bowed at them through the silver doors, and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Edward and his nephew made for the counter.

"Good morning," He greeted to a free goblin. "We've come to see the Black Family Account Manager, please."

Said goblin gave them a calculating look before saying, "very well." He took something out of his desk what looked like a brass pad and laid it on the table. "Place the Black Family seal here," which Edward complied and embossed the family's stamp on its velvety surface using the bullring in his finger. When the Black Family Crest glowed blue on it, the goblin showed a toothy grin. "That seems to be in order," he said. "I will have someone fetch Morbruk for you. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once the other goblin's desk was cleared, Edward and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading them off the hall. They were ushered to another set of doors almost the size of a large house which turned out to be the Black Family Account Manager's office.

"A pleasure to see you again, Lord Black," an elderly goblin greeted behind a grand oak desk when they got in.

"A pleasure," Edward replied cheerfully. "I am here for a very important business. My nephew here, young Hadrian is ready to take his role as the family scion and heir." He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder with a proud gaze to emphasize his point.

Morbruk lowered his spectacled eyes at the boy as if he was seeing right into his soul. Harry felt browbeaten he hid behind his uncle's back to avoid the goblin's stares. "I will need a drop of his blood," he said finally.

"Of course. If you may, champ." Edward gestured his nephew to step forward, nodding his head at the kid for encouragement.

Morbruk noticed the fear in Harry's eyes when he saw him pulling out a dagger out of his desk drawer. "You don't have to worry, young scion," said the goblin. "A prick of your blood is required to ensure your eligibility as the next Black heir, as well as to determine other potential holdings you might be entitled of." Then he used the dagger to prick a small wound in the boy's finger allowing a few drops of blood to fall onto the piece of parchment he laid on the desk. As Morbruk waved a hand to heal Harry's wound with magic, he began to study the words that formed out of the boy's blood.

Edward leaned over, looking pleased at what he saw. His nephew's blood wrote Hadrian's name as the heir to the Black Family Fortune. However, his face began to frown when the blood also wrote something else. It created a long list of names which he recognized as family names, some of which are so ancient their bloodlines have lost in time.

"What are those?" he couldn't help but ask.

Morbruk scanned the now foot-long list before revealing a wicked grin. "As it appears, Heir Black had other lordships waiting for claiming when he comes of legal age," said the goblin stating the obvious. Then he turned to speak to the boy's uncle to address the matter further, "Lord Black, we can initiate a complete audit of all these properties that are under your nephew's name at the cost of a few Galleons. Would you like to discuss it now or would you prefer we arrange a separate meeting at a later date?"

Edward considered the notion but decided against it. "Let's setup a meeting at a later date. This may take more time than we can anticipate," he reasoned. "For now, we want to settle on the Black Properties first. I want him protected by the Black Family Lordship before we go further with anything else."

"Very well," Morbruk conceded. Another goblin stepped into the office carrying an ornate chest and placed it on the desk. "These are the Black Family Lordship rings," he explained. "The Lord Ring is the one worn by Lord Black himself –" he motioned to the bull ring gleaming on Edward's finger and then pointed at the other rings inside the chest describing them one by one "– this is the Lady ring. Unused since Lord Black had lacked the existence of a spouse. The other five are all heir rings. You can choose from these whichever you desire except for the first one."

After studying each precious stones carefully, Harry looked up to seek for his uncle's approval looking quite unsure. Edward gave him the affirmative by nodding his head and an encouraging smile.

"I like this one," he picked the second heir ring encrusted with an emerald stone and embellished by an entwining pair of silver dragons.

"The late Lord Orion Black used to wear this ring when he was still a young scion," said Morbruk – this time, with a genuine smile directed toward Harry.

"Wow! Looks like you made a good choice there, mate," his uncle gleamed. "Orion's ring it is then."

The adults watched in anticipation as Harry slowly shoved the emerald ring into his right ring finger, and as they have anticipated, the stone glowed and hummed with a sound of approval as if to show its acceptance of its next heir.

"I say congratulations are in order, Heir Black," the elderly goblin beamed. "And may I remind you," he added. "This ring does not only symbolize your nobility to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, but it will also protect you from any harm. I would highly discourage you from taking this off no matter what the cause, not even in your sleep." Then Morbruk grabbed a few more parchments under his desk with written documents in them directing Harry and his uncle to sign. "I shall contact you in a few days to discuss the rest of the young scion's holdings. Can I help you with anything else?"

"We wish to make a withdrawal from the vaults, please," said Edward.

"You have the vault key with you?"

The man nodded. He pulled up a tiny gold key from his robe pockets and handed it over.

"Very well, Griphook will take you down to the vaults."