Chapter 11: Visit to Diagon Alley
After hearing everything the professor had explained, my mother turned to her and asked, "What if we decide not to send our son to your school?"
"I'm sorry to say this, Mrs. Willson," Professor McGonagall replied gently, "but your son must attend Hogwarts. Before you misunderstand, please allow me to explain."
"Young children who possess magical talent naturally store magic within their bodies. As they grow older, they must learn to release and control that magic by using it. If they suppress it instead, refusing to channel or express it, they run the risk of developing into what we call an Obscurial."
"An Obscurial is someone who has developed a parasitic, destructive force known as an Obscurus. This condition arises when a young witch or wizard represses their magical abilities for too long. The Obscurus causes the child to lose control of their senses and eventually transform into a dangerous, uncontrollable entity capable of harming their surroundings. Sadly, those who become Obscurials rarely survive long—they often die young, consumed by their own magic."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle before continuing.
"And from what I can see, your son possesses an unusually high level of magical energy. Thankfully, Ashton seems to have a natural talent for controlling his magic. Had his control been any weaker, his frequent accidental outbursts could have posed a serious threat not only to himself but also to both of you."
"His magic is denser than that of some fully trained witches and wizards. His ability to perform wandless magic at such a young age is a clear sign of both his innate talent and immense raw power."
After hearing this explanation, my parents finally came to a decision—they agreed that I needed to enroll at Hogwarts, the school for magic.
My father stood up and sincerely thanked Professor McGonagall.
Then she asked if my parents would like to accompany her to Diagon Alley to help with my school shopping.
"Really? Can we actually come with you?" my mother asked, eyes widening in surprise and excitement.
Professor McGonagall smiled warmly. "Of course. It would be a pleasure to have you see the magical world for yourselves."
With that, we all stood up, preparing to leave the house, but the professor raised a hand to stop us.
"There's no need to leave the house to get there," she said calmly. "I can take us from here."
We all stopped and looked at her in curiosity. I had a feeling I knew what she meant—Apparition.
Apparition is a highly advanced magical technique that allows a witch or wizard to instantly transport themselves from one place to another.
"I'll take each of you one by one to the entrance of Diagon Alley," she said. "When I approach you, please hold my hand tightly. It might feel uncomfortable at first, but you'll be fine."
She then took hold of my father's arm, and with a loud pop, they vanished right before our eyes. A few moments later, she returned and took my mother, disappearing again. Lastly, she came back for me. I grasped her hand tightly, and in an instant, we both vanished into thin air.
When I opened my eyes, it felt like we were flying through a narrow tunnel of swirling colors and lights, a space where two points were somehow joined in a tiny vortex. Moments later, we appeared at the front entrance of a slightly run-down pub—the Leaky Cauldron, located in London.
To my surprise—and to everyone else's—I felt completely fine after Apparating. Apparition was supposed to be disorienting, sometimes even painful, especially for first-timers. But I hadn't felt a thing. It was strange, but I decided to think more about it later.
For now, we turned our attention to our surroundings. My mother and father exchanged uncertain glances, taking in the rather shabby exterior of the pub. My mother voiced her concern.
"This doesn't seem like the best place to bring new students from non-magical families. It doesn't make a very good first impression."
Professor McGonagall responded with a calm smile. "Mrs. Willson, please don't judge a book by its cover. This place is designed this way intentionally—to keep it hidden from the Muggle world. In fact, there's a Muggle-Repelling Charm on it, which prevents non-magical people from noticing it. You're only able to see this place because you're accompanied by a witch."
"You can just call me and my husband by our first names," my mother said kindly. "There's no need to be so formal."
The professor nodded. "All right, then. Let's go."
We stepped inside the pub. Almost immediately, all eyes turned to us. A balding man behind the bar grinned.
"Ah, Minerva! You've arrived. These must be the family of a new student. Come, have a drink!"
"Hello, Tom," Professor McGonagall greeted the innkeeper. "Yes, you're right, but we're in a bit of a hurry today. I'll catch up with you another time. Goodbye!"
We passed through the pub and exited into a small, enclosed courtyard with a rubbish bin pushed into the corner. The professor turned to me.
"To enter Diagon Alley, you'll need to tap the right bricks in the wall behind us. Remember this well—you'll be coming here on your own next year. From the dustbin, count three bricks up and two across."
She demonstrated, tapping the bricks with her wand. The wall began to tremble and fold back on itself, forming an archway that revealed a bustling, colorful street filled with people in robes and countless magical shops.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," said the professor.
"Our first stop is Gringotts Wizarding Bank. You'll need to exchange your Muggle money for wizarding currency. The bank is run by goblins, and they can be quite... unfriendly. So please, stay calm and don't be offended."
At the entrance of Gringotts, there was an inscription carved into stone. Reading it aloud, we realized how strict—and greedy—the goblins could be.
Inside, we approached a grand desk where a goblin named Griphook was seated. Professor McGonagall introduced us.
"Mr. Willson would like to exchange some Muggle money for Galleons."
Griphook stared at me for a long moment before speaking. I narrowed my eyes curiously, waiting to hear what he had to say. He explained that the gold Galleon is the highest denomination in the wizarding currency. One Galleon equals seventeen Sickles or 493 Knuts. However, he also warned that individuals are only allowed to exchange up to one hundred Galleons per year.
My father turned to the professor and asked, "Will a hundred Galleons be enough for Ashton's school supplies?"
She nodded reassuringly.
We exchanged the money and prepared to leave the bank. Just before we exited, I turned to Griphook and spoke in his native language, Gobbledegook.
"May your gold flow forever and may your enemies flee in terror."
Griphook's eyes widened in astonishment. Then, slowly, he broke into a smile and returned the farewell in kind.
Everyone around me looked surprised. "Where did you learn to speak that?" my mother asked.
I shrugged. "I overheard another goblin say it inside the bank."
But deep down, I knew there was more to it. Somehow, I could understand the language of magical creatures—a rare and powerful gift. At first, I'd been surprised myself, but now, I was beginning to accept that there might be more to my magic than anyone expected.
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