After exiting through the back door of the Leaky Cauldron, Draco led Astoria into the alley behind the pub.
Perhaps because Astoria's sister had spoken of Draco as a respectable figure, she didn't worry too much about whether he had any ill intent. After all, this alley looked not only secluded but also rather unsettling.
In truth, the wall at the end of the Leaky Cauldron's back alley was the entrance to Diagon Alley. When Astoria, standing beside Draco, saw him draw his wand, a spark of anticipation lit up her lovely face.
Draco tapped the wall three times with his wand. The surface seemed to come alive, shifting as a small opening appeared in the center. The gap grew wider and wider until it formed a passage large enough for people to walk through.
"Is this Diagon Alley?"
Astoria's whisper, laced with excitement, made Draco raise an eyebrow in slight confusion.
Unaware of his glance, Astoria kept her eyes fixed on the street before them. Sunlight poured down on the nearest shop, where a sign hung above the doorway.
It read: [Copper, Brass, Tin-Plated, Silver Cauldrons. Full Range of Sizes. Self-Stirring. Adjustable.] Clearly, it was a shop selling cauldrons for potion-making.
But Draco's attention wasn't on the shop. His eyes immediately shifted to the two figures who had suddenly appeared at the entrance...
"Draco?"
"Don't speak."
The sudden shadows made Astoria jump. If not for recognizing Draco's back as he shielded her, she might have cried out.
The reason for his action became clear—the tall figures on either side of the entrance had their wands subtly aimed at them.
Just as Draco's fingers tightened around his wand, the figures spoke, making him loosen his grip.
"Not the target."
"Let them pass."
With that cold exchange, the wands lowered, retreating into the shadows. The heavy tension hanging in the air faded with them.
Seeing nothing had happened, Astoria hesitantly stepped out from behind Draco.
"Who were those people...?"
"Judging by their robes, they should be Aurors from the Ministry of Magic." Draco resumed walking, explaining the wizards' identity to her.
And why would the Ministry's elite be stationed here?
It must have a great deal to do with Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban...
...
The earlier incident didn't seem to dampen Astoria's mood, perhaps because she didn't quite understand what the Aurors' presence meant.
Once they reached Diagon Alley, she followed behind Draco, her curious eyes darting over the bustling street.
Shops selling dragon liver, owl emporiums filled with soft, muffled hoots, and broomstick stores teeming with young wizards.
She was like a newborn cub, finding everything new and fascinating. Her wide, beautiful eyes shone with excitement, and her light steps seemed to echo her joy...
"So this is Diagon Alley, the place my sister mentioned. It really is lively."
Though her voice was soft, Draco caught her words. More than that, the curiosity in her eyes revealed her anticipation.
Even so, Astoria quietly trailed behind him.
What struck Draco wasn't her obedient demeanor, but her remark—spoken as though she'd never been outside before.
Had the Greengrass family sheltered her that much?
Or was there another reason?
Maybe she realized her words had been overheard, or maybe she felt her little secret had been discovered, because when she met Draco's gaze, Astoria turned her head away awkwardly...
"If you don't count the balls, this is the first time I've gone far from home, so..."
"I understand."
"..."
Admittedly, calling this a "trip" might sound odd, but for Astoria, who rarely left the house, it wasn't strange at all.
Draco didn't question her further. He simply nodded in acknowledgment and said nothing else. That response—hardly gentlemanly—made Astoria widen her eyes slightly.
Wasn't he supposed to say something to comfort her?
At the very least, shouldn't he ask what shops she wanted to visit?
Draco's calm indifference left her a little disappointed, especially after they'd just passed a candy shop....
As her curious gaze lingered on his back, they arrived at their first destination.
Ollivanders Wand Shop.
...
Ollivanders was a small, crowded, and shabby shop.
In the window, a single wand rested on a faded purple cushion. Inside, towering shelves stretched to the ceiling, crammed with thousands of narrow boxes containing every kind of wand. Mr. Ollivander, the shop's namesake, firmly believed that "the wand chooses the wizard," and because of this belief, he remembered every wand he had ever sold...
"So be prepared. Mr. Ollivander can spend an entire day letting his wands choose their master."
Astoria listened closely, a little surprised that Draco was speaking to her like this, instead of being his usual sparing-with-words self. Was it because of what had just happened?
From shielding her earlier to giving her this reminder now.
Draco's image in her mind began to deepen—no longer just the "Slytherin Prince" her sister described.
She had thought him nothing more than a proud and powerful noble, but now he seemed to have a gentle, considerate side as well.
Unaware of her thoughts, Draco was halfway through pushing the door open when familiar voices reached them...
"Try this one... No, not that! Unexpected, Weasley. Seems I've found myself another tricky customer."
"Harry, were you this much trouble when you bought your wand? Don't tell me there isn't a single one here that suits me."
"Pretty much. I tried plenty before finding mine. Don't worry, the right one's here."
It was Mr. Ollivander rummaging through wand boxes—alongside the shop's only two other customers.
Harry Potter and his companion, Ron Weasley...