It was finally the day.

Harry had replied to the letter immediately, and then scanned through the list of books and equipment.

Wow, all of this is probably expensive, he had thought. How am I going to afford this?

Harry assumed there was some kind of education fund that the government provided. And once Harry had started thinking about that, he had so many questions.

What was the magical government like?

Was it like the non-magical government?

How did they keep normal people from finding out about magic?

Did any normal people know about magic?

How did the school work? (Honestly, Harry rejoiced at finding out that he wouldn't be living with Petunia and Vernon).

Were there kids there like him? Who had never known about magic? Who had never known a family?

Was his scar unusual?

And lastly, how did he fit into this?

Harry had started keeping a journal with all his questions, and he would be taking it everywhere.

Anyway, he had gotten a terse reply from Ms. McGonagall, and she was supposed to be picking him up in…he looked at the clock. 2 minutes. Harry was already dressed (jeans and a t-shirt, although he didn't know what wizards wore), had his backpack on with only a small water bottle and some snacks inside, and journal and mechanical pencil in hand.

Another question: how was he going to carry all of this? Maybe they had a magic backpack?

He jotted down 'magic backpack' onto his checklist.

He had made a checklist with all the things he wanted: the original required items and equipment, along with extra stationery, paper, and other essential items. Another thing he wanted to try was wizard cuisine and wizard music. He was unsure of the latter, but eager to try the cuisine of magic people.

There was a loud crack, and McGonagall appeared. Her face was lined, and she wore wire-rimmed glasses like Harry's. Guess they may not have a cure for my vision, after all, Harry thought.

She looked stern, and said curtly "Come on."

Harry hurried after her as she said "Hold on to my hand."

What followed was a very unpleasant experience for Harry: his body felt like it was being squeezed into a tube and yanked out. He staggered to his feet and retched.

Silently, McGonagall handed him a handkerchief. Who uses these things anymore? Harry thought, but was grateful nonetheless.

"Thanks," he said in a small voice. He breathed in and out, and soon felt better.

'Teleportation' he jotted down. He had to learn that. It would cut down on travel time whatsoever. Pretty unpleasant though.

"What are you writing down?" McGonagall asked him.

"Notes," he said, waving his pencil through the air.

She shrugged and moved on, handing him a cap.

"What's this for?" Harry asked her.

"Later," she said.

Whatever it was for, it was probably important, so Harry put the cap on. Soon, he and McGonagall reached a wall, where she tapped a pattern on the bricks with a cylinder-shaped piece of wood, which must be her wand. The bricks moved apart, creating a hole big enough for them to walk through.

Wow, Harry thought. Animations. The possibilities…Harry felt dizzy just from thinking about it. He wrote his thoughts down in his journal, fantasizing about secret doors leading to secret hideouts, and…Harry looked up, and his mouth dropped open.

In front of him was a long avenue, with multiple shops crammed together, often stacking on top of each other. The result was a misshapen street that was like a dream come true to Harry.

Peddlers were hawking their wares. "Get your luck charms here! Get your luck charms here!"

One swooped right in front of Harry. "Have a lady love?" He asked. "Capture their hearts with this!" The peddler brandished a pink liquid bottled in a bottle shaped like a heart.

Harry shrinked back, unsure of what to do.

McGonagall came to his rescue, though, brushing the peddler aside. "Official Hogwarts Business," she said.

Love potions? That sounds dangerous, not to mention probably illegal.

"First to Gringotts," McGonagall muttered.

"What?" Harry shouted at her over the din.

"Wizarding Bank," she said.

Harry made a note to himself to get some books on wizard culture.

They entered a big marble building, with a gold inscription on the door.

It read:

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 their turn,

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.

This seems a bit small to be a bank for all of these people.

McGonagall went up to an open counter. Behind that counter sat a unique creature, with very pointy ears and shriveled green skin.

Harry tugged on her robes. "Who is that?" He muttered without pointing.

Fortunately, McGonagall seemed to understand, and whispered back, "Goblins."

The goblin behind the counter said in a haughty voice, "State your name and business."

"Minerva McGonagall and Harry Potter, withdrawal." McGonagall replied.

She pricked her finger on the silver lump the goblin offered her, then gave it to Harry, who pricked his own finger. The lump glowed each time, presumably verifying their identity.

The goblin led them to another goblin, who introduced himself as Griphook. Griphook gestured for them to get into a cart, which Harry did nervously. As soon as they got in, the cart shot off, leaving Harry's stomach behind. Luckily, he had already vomited up everything, leaving him to dry retch off the side of the cart.

Griphook grinned nastily.

After a short but terrifying cart ride, they arrived at a huge metal door. The goblin waved a hand over the door, and the door swung open. Inside were glimmering piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins heaped 20, no 30 times higher than Vernon's house, and much thicker too. This is all mine? Harry didn't have a handle on wizarding currency yet, but if McGonagall's gasp was any indication, it was quite a lot. He grinned, as nastily as Griphook.