"How do we get to Diagon Alley?" Albert asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
"Apparition," Dumbledore replied, his voice calm and wise. "It's a very convenient spell, though not exactly pleasant for first-timers." He took out his wand-like staff. "Hold on to me, child. And try not to throw up."
The moment Albert touched Dumbledore's arm, his surroundings blurred. The world seemed to twist violently. Everything spun and stretched, yet amid the chaos, Albert could perceive a strange spatial structure—like a narrow tunnel barely wide enough to fit two people. He felt as though he had been yanked through a rubber tube and spat out at the other end, his original location swapped with another.
In the blink of an eye, they were standing in a dim alley. Strangely, Albert didn't feel any discomfort. Maybe it was due to his innate ability. However, the small creature inside his schoolbag, Feiju, let out a distressed "meow." The kitten clearly hadn't enjoyed the ride.
"How are you feeling?" Dumbledore looked at him with concern. "Apparition usually causes discomfort during a first attempt."
"I feel fine," Albert answered, soothing the kitten's head gently. Feiju calmed down after a few strokes. "Actually, I think I could do that a few more times."
"A natural-born wizard, indeed," Dumbledore said, half to himself, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "Wu's Orphanage has always produced a few gifted ones."
They began walking down the alley until they reached an unassuming little bar with a faded sign above the door.
"The Leaky Cauldron," Dumbledore announced. "This place is very famous. It's been enchanted so that ordinary Muggles won't notice it at all—unless someone brings them here."
From the outside, the bar looked dark and dusty. Passersby didn't even glance in its direction. Their eyes slid from the large bookstore on one side of the street to the record shop on the other, as if the Leaky Cauldron didn't exist at all.
Inside, it was no more glamorous. It was dimly lit, and the air carried the heavy scent of tobacco and old wood. Nine elderly women sat in a corner sipping sherry; one of them puffed on a long pipe. A young man in a tall hat was deep in conversation with the old bartender.
The bartender had a shiny bald head, as wrinkled as an aged walnut.
The room fell silent as Dumbledore and Albert entered. But after a beat, people resumed their conversations, nodding respectfully at Dumbledore. He smiled and nodded in return.
The bartender raised a glass and greeted him, "Professor Dumbledore! Coming to collect a new student yourself?"
"Yes, a young man from a Muggle orphanage," Dumbledore replied.
"How's young Harry doing? He's starting Hogwarts this year too, right?" the bartender asked, his voice tinged with excitement. Others in the bar leaned in, curious.
"Hagrid will be picking him up," Dumbledore explained, then led Albert out to a small courtyard behind the bar. At first glance, there was nothing there except a wall of old bricks.
"This," said Dumbledore, tapping several bricks in a particular order with his staff, "is the entrance to Diagon Alley. Watch carefully. You'll need to remember this."
The brick he tapped shook slightly. Then a small hole appeared in the wall. It widened, brick by brick, until a large archway formed, just wide enough for two people to pass through side by side. Through the arch, Albert saw a cobbled street winding into the distance, filled with bustling activity.
Dumbledore gestured grandly. "Welcome to Diagon Alley."
Albert stepped forward and crossed the threshold. It felt like stepping into another world—one that pulsed with magic, mystery, and promise.
The street was alive with activity. Strange shops lined both sides, each more curious than the last. Vendors shouted over one another to advertise everything from self-stirring cauldrons to enchanted ink. Wizards in robes bustled by, some carrying parchment scrolls, others levitating bags behind them. Many of them recognized Dumbledore and greeted him with respectful nods.
Dumbledore returned each greeting, all the while introducing Albert to the shops they passed.
"This is Ollivanders, where you'll get your wand… And over there's Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. You'll need your Hogwarts robes there."
Albert nodded eagerly, taking in every detail.
They continued walking until they reached a tall, snowy-white building that towered above the others.
"This," said Dumbledore, gesturing to the grand structure, "is Gringotts—the wizarding bank. Here you'll exchange your Muggle money for wizarding currency: gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts."
Beside the building's gleaming bronze doors stood a goblin in a crimson-and-gold uniform. He was about a head shorter than Albert, with a clever face, sharp features, and fingers as long and thin as knitting needles.
The goblin gave them a curt bow as they approached. Beyond the first door was a second—made of silver—engraved with a warning:
Come in, stranger, but beware of what will happen if you are greedy.
Asking blindly and getting something for nothing will be severely punished,
So if you wish to take a piece of wealth from our vault that is not yours,
Thief, you have been warned—
Beware not of treasure, but of evil.
The heavy doors swung open, and they stepped into the main hall. The sight inside was awe-inspiring. Goblins sat behind long counters, writing in large ledgers, weighing coins, and examining precious gems under magnifying glasses. Some were leading witches and wizards through side doors to underground vaults.
Albert followed Dumbledore to one of the counters. After a brief discussion with a goblin banker, Albert handed over the money he had brought from the orphanage. In return, he received a small bag filled with glittering coins.
They made their way back out onto the street.
"Now that you've got wizarding currency," Dumbledore said, "it's time to buy your school supplies."
Their first stop was Madam Malkin's for his school robes. Albert stood on a stool while pins and threads zipped around him magically, adjusting the black fabric to fit perfectly. A boy with glasses and messy hair came in for a fitting at the same time, but before Albert could speak to him, the boy was ushered out.
Next, they went to Flourish and Blotts to buy textbooks. Albert picked up copies of Standard Book of Spells, Magical Theory, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, and more. Each book seemed to hum with magical energy. He couldn't wait to read them all.
Then came a trip to the Apothecary, where the air was thick with the scent of herbs and roots. Albert picked out vials of bat spleen, dragon liver, and dried nettles. Dumbledore helped him choose a sturdy cauldron, a set of brass scales, and glass phials.
"All that's left now," Dumbledore said with a smile, "is your wand."
They returned to the shop they'd passed earlier—Ollivanders. A single wand lay in the window display. The store inside was dusty and filled with narrow boxes stacked to the ceiling.
"Ah, Professor Dumbledore!" said a soft voice. A pale man with silvery eyes stepped out from the shadows. "Another first-year, I presume?"
"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "This is Albert."
Albert spent the next twenty minutes trying different wands. Some sparked and fizzled. Others did nothing at all. Finally, Ollivander handed him a wand made of yew, twelve inches long, with a phoenix feather core.
The moment Albert grasped it, a warm sensation ran up his arm. A breeze swept through the shop, rattling boxes and sending sparks into the air.
"Curious," Ollivander whispered. "Very curious indeed… That wand shares its core with another. And that other wand… well, it gave us quite the legend. Let's hope yours will do the same."
With everything purchased, Albert and Dumbledore made their way back down Diagon Alley.
"Are you ready for Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked as they paused at the entrance.
Albert looked back at the bustling street, at the world he never knew existed but now felt like it had always been part of him.
"Yes," he said, a spark of determination in his voice. "I'm ready."
And in that moment, Albert understood that his life would never be ordinary again. The fame and riches of the Muggle world no longer mattered. Ahead of him stretched a future filled with magic, mystery, and adventure.
It had all begun in this narrow alley.