"Wait!" The matron looked a bit startled. "You mean that school that teaches magic? You're really not..."
The matron trailed off without saying "joking." After all, Professor McGonagall's presence and stern expression commanded instant respect.
This was the aura of a long-serving Deputy Headmistress.
A wand appeared in Professor McGonagall's hand. She pointed it gently at the matron and murmured something that sounded like a string of fuzzy syllables.
The matron's attitude shifted immediately. "Oh, welcome, Professor McGonagall. I hope little Ted can enroll at your school. That would be wonderful. You two chat—I'll go make some tea." With that, she walked away.
Ted glanced at the wand in Professor McGonagall's hand. "That was magic? It won't have any bad effects on the matron, will it?"
Professor McGonagall's expression softened slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. "Rest assured, Mr. Epiphany. That spell won't harm her. She'll just think you've been accepted into a fine school and feel relieved."
She tapped the saucer on the tea table with her wand. It suddenly turned into a sparrow, fluttered around the room once, then landed back on the table and became a saucer again.
Ted put on a look of surprise and delight. "Wow~ incredible!"
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Mr. Epiphany, you have a special ability that other children don't, don't you?"
Ted glanced at the guitar nearby—surely not referring to his busking.
"You mean this?" Ted reached out toward the cup on the table.
The cup began to wobble, then flew right into his hand.
"Oho~ well done." Professor McGonagall reassessed Ted.
Few young wizards could control their magic before any training.
This was a child with real talent.
"Right then, come with me. I'll take you to get the necessary items."
"Professor, I'd like to say goodbye to the matron first."
Professor McGonagall waved it off. "No need. These matters can't be explained too clearly to Muggles. She'll believe you've been accepted by us..."
If it were Muggle-born wizard parents, they had a right to know where their child was going.
The Statute of Secrecy permitted it.
But an orphanage matron was different. She wasn't Ted's legal guardian, so McGonagall resorted to a Confundus Charm.
Ted quickly asked, "Should I bring any luggage?"
"No, no need. You'll buy what you need and come back—term doesn't start for two months yet."
...
As they stepped outside, Ted said, "Um... Professor McGonagall, I don't have any money. All I've got is £22 and 16 pence. Is that enough?"
Professor McGonagall replied, "Mr. Epiphany, I don't think you need to worry about that."
"Just call me Ted."
"Very well, Ted..."
Hogwarts provided interest-free student loans for special cases like Ted—enough each year to cover schooling. Repayment came after graduation.
A proper, decent setup!
Wait—hadn't the last one on such a loan been Tom?
Professor McGonagall led Ted to a nearby alley, her lips quirking up with a subtle expression.
"Ted, to save time, we'll use magic to reach our destination. It might not be pleasant—brace yourself."
"Got it."
"Right, take hold of my hand... Apparition!"
Ted immediately felt himself spinning, squeezed into a narrow tube, tossed about wildly before it finally stopped.
When his feet hit solid ground again, his legs nearly buckled. His stomach churned violently; it took a dozen seconds to suppress the nausea.
Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, seemed unfazed, merely observing Ted: his adaptability was stronger than expected.
Ted now strongly suspected revenge!
And truthfully, it was. Normally, they'd have taken a car.
But Professor McGonagall wanted young Ted to get an early taste of magic's... charms. A lesson that some cats weren't for petting!
This grown cat lady held a grudge just fine.
Ted: Intentional, or accidental?
McGonagall: Intentional!
Ted: Better hope I don't get sorted into Gryffindor under you.
Truth be told, he rather wanted to try it himself someday! Apparate like this, then that, and next...
The little daredevil started his mental victory dance.
The system seemed to sense something—
"Ding~ Quest triggered:
[Poke Once, Poke Again—Pet Her! (Green)].
What's wrong with petting cats? What's wrong with petting cats? If you turn into a hedgehog, I won't pet you, right?!
Objective: Pet Professor McGonagall in her Animagus form again.
Rewards: 250 EXP, +lv1 Transfiguration.
Go on, give her a good stroke!"*
This... I-I was joking! Why take it seriously?!
How the hell am I supposed to do that?!!
"Alright, Ted, we're here: the Leaky Cauldron on Charing Cross Road." Professor McGonagall eyed the dazed Ted, pleased with her pre-lesson impact.
"Pay attention—this place has a Muggle-Repelling Charm on it. Muggles—ordinary folk—can't see it."
Ted looked up at an extremely narrow storefront, barely wider than a door.
A sign jutted out on an iron rod: a wooden board not with words, but a painting of a large, leaky cauldron—big enough to stew a child.
Squeezed between a big bookstore and a record shop, it was oddly conspicuous, yet passersby ignored it completely.
Professor McGonagall pushed open the door first, leading Ted inside.
The pub was dimly lit with oil lamps—no wonder it looked so dingy, like a nightclub.
Right, the wizarding world couldn't use electrics.
Couldn't you at least use magic lights? Oil lamps and candelabras were so outdated.
Wooden tables—long, square, or round—were scattered haphazardly. Wizards in odd garb drank and chatted.
Many greeted Professor McGonagall warmly.
The balding barman, Tom behind the counter, set down a glass and called out, "Professor McGonagall! Haven't seen you in ages. Here for this year's new students?"
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Yes. Taking him to Diagon Alley for supplies."
"Oh, splendid. My granddaughter's a first-year too."
After a brief chat, Professor McGonagall led Ted out the back door into what looked like a dead-end alley with a bin by the wall.
"Remember how to open it," she said. "With your wand—from the bin, up three bricks, across two more. Tap~"
The thick brick wall began to shift with grinding noises, bricks receding and overlapping, forming an archway.
Beyond lay a four- or five-meter-wide alley, cobblestones worn smooth. Strange shops lined both sides.
Street stalls displayed baffling wares; robed wizards bustled in and out; owls swooped everywhere...
This was Diagon Alley, gateway to the wizarding world!
Even Ted, who'd seen it countless times in films and videos, stood stunned. He nearly forgot the system pinging in his head.
"Ding~ Quest triggered:
[Explore Diagon Alley (Green)].
Britain's most famous wizarding shopping street—gotta browse it all! No shop skipped!
Objective: Reach 100% Diagon Alley exploration.
Progress: 1%.
Rewards: 100 EXP, random card.
Fighting's way more fun than shopping~*
Seeing Ted gawking, Professor McGonagall smiled faintly. "Alright, Ted—plenty of time to gape later. First, let's get your funds. You've got quite a list to buy..."
Professor McGonagall moved briskly, pulling Ted along.
Ted's eyes darted everywhere, overwhelmed, barely keeping up.
After five or six minutes, they reached a fork. Professor McGonagall stopped.
Across stood a three-story white building.
Other shops were at most two stories, mostly wood—but this was white stone, impressive from afar.
Up close, though: Good lord! The white marble pillars outside Gringotts were crooked!
Each leaned uniquely—not even aligned vertically, let alone in the same direction across floors!
As someone who'd once bucketed away from dodgy builds, this hit too hard!
Ted itched to run over and straighten them.
At Gringotts' bronze doors stood haughty goblin guards in scarlet-and-gold uniforms, eyeing folk unpleasantly.
Further in gleamed silver doors, engraved boldly:
Enter, stranger, but take heed,
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
If you would steal what you do not own
From Gringotts' vaults by trick or loan,
Thief, you have been warned, beware—
Of getting more than treasure there.
Ted smirked. "They seem really insecure."
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Indeed."
Most would see goblins as rude to wizards.
But Ted spotted their bluster hiding fear.
Insecure, scared, yet greedy and proud—forcing a brave face.
Professor McGonagall soon fetched Ted's student loan from the tall counters lining the hall.
The goblins used 1.5-meter-high chairs behind counters for superiority—probably needed stepladders.
Weren't they a type of goblin, really?
Early Westerners had poor vocab; similar critters all got called "goblin."
Hence hobgoblins, goblins, goblins, dwarves—impossible to tell apart.
Goblins were far from human beauty standards—ugly as sin. "Monster" fit better than "goblin."
Poetry proved it: Short as dwarves but slimmer by five, half-height at three inches high; broad face, sunk nose, amber eyes, pointed ears, sharp fangs to the knee-fist size. Maces swing eclipsing sun and moon, wolf-mounts howl ghosts to swoon; kin across the nine lands known, nicknamed goblins, foul and loathsome.
Their mindset was odd: they owned what they made; payments were mere rent. Once the first owner died, they reclaimed it.
Gryffindor got scammed forging his sword—beaten badly after.
Ted: Don't make me go goblin slayer~ Wand in hand, follow me! Slay goblins, raid Gringotts!