Early the next morning, at exactly 9:30, Albert arrived in the main hall and called out to Kreacher.
"Kreacher, you know where the Leaky Cauldron is, don't you?"
"Of course," Kreacher rasped. "I've taken most of the family there at some point."
"Then please take me. I need to buy my school supplies and books."
"Very well. Shall we leave now?"
"Yes, if it's possible."
"Then take my hand."
Albert could have used Apparition to get there instantly, but the spell required one to have visited the location before. Since he had never been to the Leaky Cauldron, he needed Kreacher's help.
Ten seconds passed. Suddenly, Albert found himself standing before three large streets. The first had a sign labeled "24," the second began with a sign that read "25." But the third had no visible sign at all.
Looking up, Albert spotted an old, worn-out banner hanging above a crumbling facade. A wooden sign swayed gently above it, reading "The Leaky Cauldron," wedged discreetly between a record store and a bookstore.
"Thank you, Kreacher. You can go home now," Albert said.
Kreacher gave a nod and disappeared with a snap of his fingers.
Albert walked straight ahead and pushed open the door of the pub.
The interior was dimly lit and styled like something from the Middle Ages. The furniture looked aged and slightly disordered. A few robed figures were seated, quietly drinking or playing dice.
Albert must have stood in the doorway too long, because an old man soon approached. His hair was almost completely white, and everything about him suggested that he owned the place.
"I'm Tom," he said. "Owner of the Leaky Cauldron. You look like someone who needs something."
He eyed Albert curiously. "First time heading to Hogwarts?"
"Yes," Albert replied. "I've never been here before. How do I get to Diagon Alley? I need to buy supplies for school."
Tom gave him a crooked smile. "Diagon Alley, is it? Come with me."
He led Albert to a small courtyard in the back. Pulling out his wand, Tom pointed it at a brick wall.
"Tap three times with a wand," he instructed, "right there."
Tom tapped the wall. Instantly, the bricks began to quiver and shift, revealing a wide passageway that opened into a long, cobbled street filled with twisting paths and magical storefronts stretching as far as the eye could see.
"You'd best head to Gringotts first," Tom advised. "Just walk straight and look for the tallest white building—that's the wizarding bank."
Albert nodded. "Actually, I already have wizarding gold, so I can skip that."
He stepped through the archway and took his time wandering down the lively street. Diagon Alley was a breathtaking place, filled with magical shops, moving window displays, and an atmosphere that felt like a page out of a storybook.
After soaking in the sights, Albert began his errands.
He visited several shops, purchasing everything from his school robes and textbooks to crystal vials, potion ingredients, pewter cauldrons, and a brass scale. With nearly all his required items collected, only two things remained: a pet and a wand.
Without hesitation, he made his way to the Magical Menagerie.
As he opened the door, a sharp-eyed woman behind the counter looked up. Her name was Malsin.
"Well, well," she said. "Have you come to buy something, or did you get lost, child?"
"I'm here to buy a pet to accompany me to Hogwarts, ma'am."
Malsin observed Albert carefully. He wore a thick black leather shirt, along with neat, stylish black and white trousers. The quality of his clothing made it clear he came from wealth.
Her demeanor shifted instantly, becoming warm and welcoming. "Well then, little one, what kind of pet do you fancy? We've got all sorts—owls, cats, toads, even turtles. All trained and tame, of course."
Albert strolled slowly around the shop, scanning the cages. One particular owl caught his eye—a large, white owl staring back at him with a weary, almost indifferent gaze.
"I'd like to buy this owl," Albert said. "How much is it?"
"Oh, splendid choice!" Malsin beamed. "Since you're such a polite young lad, I'll let you have him for four Galleons. What do you say?"
"Sounds fair," Albert said.
He took four golden coins from his pocket and handed them over.
"Congratulations," she said. "This snowy owl is now yours."
Albert picked up the cage. "Thank you," he said before heading for his final stop: the wand shop.
He soon arrived at a narrow, weathered building with a faded golden sign that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
In the dusty window display sat a single wand resting on a purple cushion.
Inside, a man in a tailored suit stood beside his daughter, who was trying out wands. Something about them looked familiar.
Before Albert could fully process the moment, the man sighed, "Still no luck—this one hasn't chosen you either."
"It's alright," said the girl with frizzy orange hair. "Let's try the next one."
As Ollivander reached for another wand, a voice spoke from behind.
"Try that box above your head. That one will choose her for sure."
Albert had seen a faint flicker of magic emanating from the box—a spark only he could see.
Ollivander paused. "Alright, let's see."
He retrieved the box Albert had pointed to and placed it gently on the table. "But what if it doesn't work? Are you certain?"
"I'm one hundred percent sure," Albert replied. "If I'm wrong, I'll pay you double the price of the wand. But if I'm right—what will you give me in return?"
Intrigued, Ollivander raised a brow. "If it works, I'll give you your wand for free. Deal?"
"Deal."
The girl's father looked worried. "You don't need to wager your money, son. We'll find a wand for her—even if it takes all day."
"It's fine, sir," Albert assured him. "I'm confident."
Ollivander opened the box and offered the wand to the girl. As soon as she touched it, a soft glow surrounded her fingers.
"It's perfect," she whispered. "This is the one."
She turned to Albert with a smile and extended her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger, first-year at Hogwarts. And you are?"
Albert shook her hand. "Albert Black. I'm a first-year too."
"Oh, then we'll be classmates!" Hermione grinned.
Ollivander flinched slightly at the name "Black," stepping back as if struck.
He tried to speak, but his throat tightened. His tongue seemed frozen in place.
Hermione's father stepped forward. "I'm Mr. Brown Granger, a dentist. If you both end up in the same house, look out for my daughter, will you? Girls can be a bit... energetic."
Albert laughed. "Don't worry, sir. I'll make sure she's alright."
Hermione, slightly annoyed, tugged at her father's sleeve. "Dad! I can look after myself."
After paying six Galleons for the wand, Mr. Granger and Hermione exited the shop.
Once Albert confirmed they had left, he raised his finger toward Ollivander.
"Surgito," he said, releasing the man from the magical block on his tongue.
"You were going to tell them about my father, weren't you?" Albert asked calmly.
Ollivander blinked, amazed. "You can cast magic... without a wand? Extraordinary. If Dumbledore knew—"
"Don't change the subject, sir. Why did you want to tell them who my father is?"
"I... I'm sorry," Ollivander stammered. "It was instinct. You look so much like him—your snow-pale face, that same striking presence. I spoke without thinking."
Albert's tone softened. "It's alright. Now... could you hand me that box up there? Top shelf, to the right."
"That one?" Ollivander asked, reaching hesitantly. "It's been here for years. My finest work—an incredibly powerful wand. Do you think it'll choose you?"
Albert smiled. "Want to bet again?"
Embarrassed, Ollivander fetched the box. He opened it and revealed a 15-inch wand, which immediately leapt into Albert's hand.
"How do you know which wand will choose someone?" Ollivander asked in awe.
Albert replied with a smirk, "Just a feeling."
"That's more than a feeling..."
"Believe it or not," Albert said, tucking the wand away. "That's your choice."
And with that, he turned and walked out of the shop.
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