Once Minerva has recovered her composure, she leads Morgana and Harry out to the nearby road. Turning to face them both, she adopts a teaching expression, "Now the knight bus is a relatively recent invention, created in 1953 by the Turnpike family. The bus itself only serves mainland Britain, however so far as I know, the only British magical presences that we have outside the mainland are a couple of nature preserves. I recommend that you keep a few sickles on hand at all times so that you can at least pay for a ride to Diagon Alley. In order to summon the bus, all you need to do is stand beside a road and raise your wand like this."
Minerva raises her wand, and nothing happens. She holds it out for a minute and still no bus turns up, "Er hum, I have never had this fail before."
Morgana smiles, "Did you forget that I practice Celtic magic? Or that we hold the protections that were bestowed on Harry?"
"Honestly, I hadn't even considered that. Maybe we should try nearer the village."
Harry shakes his head as he trails along behind his mum and the professor.
Half a mile down the road, Minerva is able to successfully summon the Knight Bus. As the triple decker bus, that has a dark purple paint job, arrives with a bang Morgana shares a glance with Harry.
"Professor McGonagall, where are the seats?"
The doors to the bus open before Minerva can respond, "Hello Professor, Diagon Alley?"
"Yes please Mr Turnpike."
"How many times do I need to ask you to call me Stan, Mr Turnpike is my father."
"At least once more," she turns back to Harry and Morgana, "Madam Danann, Mr Danann, please come aboard and take a seat. This journey comes out of the muggleborn introductory fund."
Nervously, the two board and look aghast at the state of the interior. Rather than the neat rows of seats you'd expect to see on a bus, it instead looks like someone did a smash and grab at a charity shop. Scattered around the interior, which is larger than it appeared on the outside, is an eclectic mix of dining, garden, and deck chairs. There's even a couple of spring folding deckchairs. Morgana's hand twitches as she resists the urge to do something about the interior. Instead, she locates a pole and stands next to it while taking it in a firm grip. Harry take his cue from her, and grabs the other side of the pole. Just as the doors are closing, Ephis flies in and perches on Harry's shoulder.
Once she's situated, Minerva looks over at the two Danann's and her eyes widen at the sight of the Sylph perched on Harry's shoulder, "Is that a fairy?"
Ephis harrumphs, "If you must know, I'm a Sylph and I'm sworn to Harry."
The bus lurches as Stan stalls the engine when she speaks, "Blimey, I didn't know fairies could speak."
Ephis draws herself to her full 6 inch height and points at the driver, "I just said I was a Sylph, if you don't want to find out what it's like to live as a fairy, you'll remember that. I have enough power to transition to a Pixie, but I like who I am too much to do so."
Harry just shakes his head while he pulls out a crunchy bar and snaps off a bit of the chocolate coated honeycomb. He then waves the piece of chocolate, that's almost larger than Ephis' head, in front of her. Her eyes snap to it and she grabs the whole thing and starts chewing on it.
Morgana shakes her head, "You know that stuffs not good for you."
Ephis lifts her head momentarily, "It's better than nectar."
"I suppose it is. Don't forget to eat some berries later."
"Mmm"
After the conductor gets off the bus and cranks it over, they head off at speeds that seem to be far faster than they should be going. Harry and Morgana are both rather glad they decided to stand, as with their strength and constitution it is easy to stay planted for the entire 30 minute journey. During which time another 3 witches and 2 wizards board the bus.
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As they alight on Charring Cross Road in London, Harry asks, "Professor, is this the only form of transport you have?"
"Oh heavens no, we also have the floo, apparition, and portkeys. However, the Knight Bus is accessible to everyone that has a wand. Apparition requires a licence to perform, as it is quite stressful on your magic and can cause problems if your magic hasn't matured. Portkeys are restricted to ministry approved purveyors, as once created they can be used by anyone. Finally, the floo comes with a small yearly cost, along with the needed floo powder. There's also brooms and animals, but they can't be used to get around the country due to the Statute of Secrecy."
"What's that?"
"Our most sacred law. In 1692 the first ever international law was passed by every magical country. With the passage of this law, they formalised the separation of the magical and muggle worlds. The International Council of Wizardry was also founded at that time, and its primary purpose is to enforce the statute."
"What about North America and Australia?"
Minerva frowns, "What about them?"
"Where their magical populations consulted for this?"
"I don't understand."
"According to my history lessons, North America and Australia hadn't been settled by Europeans at that point in time. So were they consulted?"
"I'm afraid I can't rightly tell you, as it's never come up before."
"What about Africa?"
"The Ottoman and Moroccan Empires were both founding members of the ICW."
"India and China?"
"May I suggest that you buy a book about the founding of the ICW if you're that curious?"
Harry nods, "I think I will. Does your school teach of any other magical traditions than the Roman one?"
"So far as I know, there are not enough experts left to teach the magic of other traditions outside their national borders."
As Harry turns back to his mother, he mutters, "It's Christianity all over again."
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With the conversation over, Minerva leads the two into the Leaky Cauldron. An old fashioned public house with sawdust on the floor, soot blackened beams supporting the floor above, and tallow candles waiting to be lit later at night. At the bar is a portly, bald, old man cleaning out a leather tankard with a glass bottom. As they get closer, he looks up, "Passing through Professor?"
Minerva nods, "Yes Tom, I'm just taking the Danann's to Gringotts to arrange tuition before lunch."
"We've got left over beef stew and fresh bread if you're early. Corse, there's also the staples, pickles, cured meats, cheese, and fresh bread."
Harry and Morgana both share a glance, as this sounds like the sort of fare that they'd eat in the outside, or at one of the re-enactment fairs. Shrugging, they follow Minerva through a door that appears to go to the back of the pub. Once there, they come to a blind alleyway that is also right out of history.
Minerva turns to face them, "This is the entrance to Diagon Alley, once you have your wand, tap this brick 3 times. It's 5 up and 3 across from the bin here."
She does so, and the bricks in the wall start to fall away, collapsing in on themselves to form an archway into the alleyway. On the other side is a street that, apart from the items being sold, wouldn't look out of place in a Charles Dickens novel.
Brusquely, Minerva leads the pair down the street to an imposing white building with an ominous poem written in gold lettering across the entrance. Morgana stops before the white stone steps and looks at the poem thoughtfully. Harry follows her gaze, and then looks down at the guards outside the door before sighing and following her as she does her Mum thing.
Morgana strides over to the guard that has the best quality armour, pulling out a bag of salt and a bottle of mead as she goes. "Guardsman, I would share salt and mead with the head of this house."
The guards eyes widen noticeably inside the helm, and they respond, "Who requests guest rights?"
"I am known as Morgana Danann, and this my son, born Harry."
"I will see if the head of house is available."
Minerva looks back from the inside of the bank, irritation well concealed on her face, "Come on, we don't have all day."
Morgana pins the professor with an icy stare, "If necessary, we do have all day. I will not enter a strangers house when they have made it clear that they do not welcome us."
"This is the wizarding bank, the message is there to deter thieves."
Morgana shakes her head, "'Enter Stranger, but take heed.' Nay, they may do banking, but this is a home. If it was a just a business, I'm sure it would use another word than Stranger. Especially given how many languages use the same word for enemy."
"Bah, I've been coming here my whole life."
"I have a doctorate in Archaeology and ancient cultures. Beside, I don't think it will take us long to find out an answer."
As she says that, a goblin in a pinstripe suit walks to the entrance of the bank. When he reaches the entrance, he bows slightly to the pair, "Greetings, I am Ragnok, please enter our abode and share with us your bounty of salt and mead."
Morgana bows in return, "My thanks Ragnok, please call me Morgana."
Harry bows in turn, and repeats his mothers statement. The two then follow Ragnok into the bank and through a side door, much to the consternation of Minerva, as she is barred by a couple of sneering guards.
Once they are out of public view, Ragnok relaxes slightly, "I hope you don't mind, but I have ordered some roasted meat to season the salt, and bread to soak the mead."
Morgana smiles, "Not at all. It is a shame that the old forms are no longer practiced."
Ragnok smiles, "Indeed, what brings two members of the Tuath Dé to our doors?"
Harry smirks, "Maybe that is a topic of conversation for after we have shared salt and mead."
Ragnok laughs, "You have taught your son well."
They continue to walk in silence until they are shown into a small room with a low stone table and seating cushions. When indicated, the two of them sit on the cushions, and Morgana places the bag of salt, and the bottle of mead on the table. A few minutes later a steaming roast is brought in along with a basket of bread and a small bowl. Morgana takes the bag of salt and pours a handful into the bowl before returning it to the table. Ragnok then uncorks the bottle and sniffs it before placing it back on the table. When he nods, another goblin pours the bottle into three shallow bowls before leaving the room.
Harry watches as his mother makes a bronze dagger and carves off a slice of meat with her left hand. With her right she takes a pinch of salt and seasons the meat with it while it is still on the dagger. Taking a bite of the meat she smiles, "The meat is the perfect accompaniment to the salt, thank you. While we are under your roof we will defend it as our own home."
Ragnok, in turn, breaks one of the loaves of dark bread and dips a piece in mead for a moment. Once he has savoured the mead, he responds, "Nature has truly been kind with this mead, and you are welcome as one of our family while you are under our roof."
When Ragnok sees that Harry hasn't moved, he indicates with his knife, "Eat young man, you are a guest of my house."
Harry goes a little red, "Forgive me, I have not being part of this ritual before, so I do not wish to cause offence."
"Think nothing of it, the only hand you should touch the food with is your right hand, and you are expected to provide your own knife for taking the meat."
"How would I break the bread?"
"If you can't tear some off with only your right hand, you either use your knife to aid you, or you take a loaf for your own, as I did."
Harry nods gratefully before forming his own dagger and starting with the meat like his mother did, "What is the purpose of this ritual?"
Morgana gestures at the salt and mead with her knife, "These two things are both needed for a good life. We cannot live without salt, and we do not live without entertainment represented by the mead. As the guests we bring these things to the home. If we were unwelcome, then the host would simply provide cups and we would place a pinch of salt on our hands, and drink the mead straight. By providing meat to season the salt, and bread to soak the mead we are being made welcome into the home. A poorer home might provide a stew or something else to season the salt, but the bread is near constant. Sometimes you may see only bread being served, this is somewhere between the two welcomes.
"By partaking of the ritual, we agree to treat this house as our own, and defend it if it comes under assault while we are staying here."
Ragnok adds, "This is where the response of the host is important too. If we only shared a cup and pinch, then you would only be welcome for as long as it took you to do your business. If we shared only bread, then you'd typically be granted lodging for the night, but you'd be expected to leave soon after. With both meat and bread I am indicating that you have full guest rights. Equally, after this, it would be customary for you to offer the same if I visited your home. In our culture, the sharing of meat and bread also means you can do business with the women of the clan."
Morgana inclines her head, "You truly honour us."
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Outside, Minerva waits impatiently for the two to return. After a couple of hours, she retreats to the ice cream shop across the way so that she can see when they leave.