the sun began its descent, casting long shadows.
Dumbledore led Harry swiftly through the pub, stopping abruptly at a wall.
"Professor, did I do something wrong?" Harry, ever so observant, noticed Dumbledore seemed a bit put out.
Dumbledore paused, clearly surprised by the question. "Harry, for reasons you'll understand, you've become something of a hero in the British wizarding world. Everyone knows your name. But you mustn't get caught up in all that praise; it won't help you grow."
"I understand, Professor," Harry mumbled, though his eyes darted furtively towards Dumbledore.
Dumbledore didn't dwell on the matter. "Harry, count up three bricks from here, then two across. Tap it three times with your wand, and you'll enter Diagon Alley."
He demonstrated, tapping his wand, and a truly magical sight unfolded: the bricks on the wall receded, forming a semi-circular archway. They walked through the passage, stepping into a wondrous, magic-filled street.
Harry was speechless, gazing at the peculiar shops lining the street.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Harry," Dumbledore announced. "While I could have just Apparated us here, I believe every young witch and wizard should experience the Leaky Cauldron."
Dumbledore then pulled a key from his pocket and handed it to Harry. "This is your parents' vault. There's enough gold in there for all your schooling needs." He paused, then continued, "There's quite a bit of money in there, so I hope you'll use it wisely."
Harry felt he understood Dumbledore's unspoken meaning, remembering how things worked in Muggle schools. "Are you hoping I'll donate a sum to Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore finally chuckled, shaking his head. "Harry, Harry, I truly wonder what Petunia has been teaching you! I don't need your gold." He then motioned for Harry to follow him.
Harry trailed Dumbledore to a towering, white building, guessing it must be the wizarding bank. The moment the vault opened, Harry stared at the room full of gold, feeling immense relief that the Figg and Dursley families hadn't known about his parents' inheritance; they surely would have emptied it.
"Harry, this trunk is for you," Dumbledore said, handing him a case. Harry opened it, and the interior space seemed vast enough to fit all of Privet Drive. A goblin nearby gave an envious look, making Harry realize the trunk was incredibly valuable.
"Professor, this is too much. Is it really for me?"
"Take it, Harry. It's my birthday gift to you."
Harry felt a pang of emotion. It was his first magical gift since entering the wizarding world, and he vowed to use it well.
With a substantial amount of gold in hand, they headed to Ollivanders, makers of fine wands since 382 BC. After a good bit of trying, Harry was torn between two wands: one of holly and phoenix feather, and another of acacia and dragon heartstring. Ollivander explained that it was a truly rare occurrence for two wands to choose a wizard simultaneously, but Harry had to pick just one. Harry noticed Dumbledore gazing thoughtfully at the wand in his left hand, and so, Harry made his choice.
Stepping out of the wand shop, Harry twirled his holly and phoenix feather wand, asking Dumbledore, "Professor, you were staring at this wand earlier. Is there something special about it?"
"Harry, I didn't realize you were so observant. Its phoenix feather comes from Fawkes, and I just happen to be Fawkes's owner," Dumbledore explained simply.
Next, they arrived at the Magical Menagerie, and Harry was utterly astonished by what he saw: cages lined the walls, filled with constantly shape-shifting fat rabbits, large turtles with gemstone shells, impossibly enormous black rats scurrying about, toads whose eyes took up half their faces, and even fluffy Flobberworms were considered pets.
After a quick wander, Harry's attention was caught by a vibrant, multi-colored snake lounging on a rock. He heard it grumbling about its food not being fresh. A shop assistant approached, beginning to explain that the snake might have Horned Serpent lineage, but Harry interrupted the sales pitch. "It's complaining about the food not being fresh. Perhaps you could try giving it something else."
The assistant stood there, bewildered, until Dumbledore spoke up. "Harry, were you just speaking Parseltongue?"
Harry looked utterly confused. "Parseltongue? What's that?"
Noticing the assistant's wide-eyed expression, Dumbledore quickly pulled Harry out of the shop.
"Harry, what you just said was Parseltongue. Are you a Parselmouth?"
"What's a Parselmouth? Can't wizards understand snakes?"
"Parseltongue is an incredibly rare gift, Harry. While I can understand snakes too, most wizards cannot." Dumbledore's face grew serious. "Harry, you must not let anyone easily discover that you are a Parselmouth. People will think you're a Dark wizard." Dumbledore decided he would investigate Harry's family tree upon their return; he had a terrible suspicion.
"I understand, Professor. It's just like Dudley being jealous of my eyes," Harry said. Seeing Dumbledore's puzzled look, Harry explained that when he was little, Dudley was terribly envious of Harry's beautiful green eyes and even forced him to grow his hair long for a few years.
Returning to the Magical Menagerie, Dumbledore explained to the shop assistant that Harry had just been joking, and the assistant seemed convinced. At Dumbledore's suggestion, Harry eventually bought a plump, Great Grey Owl, and Dumbledore even helped name her "Hedwig."
"Ah, I see an old acquaintance. I'll go say hello. Can you manage to buy your robes yourself?" Dumbledore asked, pointing towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Seeing Harry nod, he departed.
Inside the shop, a girl was trying on robes. Harry easily deduced she was from the Muggle world, as her parents were marveling at everything around them.
"Dearie, are you here for your Hogwarts uniform too? Come, stand on this footstool," a short, plump witch in a pointed hat said to Harry. Once he was steady, measuring tapes and pins floated over to take his measurements.
Perhaps it was Harry's distinctly Muggle clothing, but the girl beside him suddenly piped up, "Hey, are you a Muggle too?" Without waiting for Harry to answer, she continued, "I was supposed to go to the best secondary school in London, but then they told me I was a witch, so I chose Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall came to get me. Which professor brought you?"
"Hmm," Harry mumbled, finding her a bit arrogant.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. Hermione is just a little excited, having just entered the wizarding world. She's usually very polite; please allow me to apologize on her behalf," the girl's mother explained apologetically to Harry.
After accepting the apology, Harry ignored the mother and daughter. Once they left, Madam Malkin returned with his robes.
"My goodness, that scar! Are you Harry Potter?" Madam Malkin exclaimed suddenly, surprised.
"Yes, I am," Harry replied calmly. Madam Malkin, a bit flustered herself, quickly offered Harry a discount. Harry paid 20 Galleons for his uniform, made from the shop's finest fabric.
Suddenly, he noticed Dumbledore had returned, along with the family who had just left, and a tall, dark-haired witch who was looking at him with a complex expression.
"Harry, this is Professor McGonagall, your Transfiguration teacher."
"Hello, Harry. I held you when you were just a baby," Professor McGonagall said, looking at Harry with a kind, yet intense, gaze that made him feel a bit uneasy.