Daphne and I stood side by side in matching formal robes, polished shoes, and identical expressions of mild dread disguised as Greengrass composure.
Father handed me a pinch of silver Floo powder, his face unreadable. "Say it clearly. Don't stumble. I will go first."
"Got it," I said, already vibrating inside.
"Clearly, Lucian."
"I said I got it."
He stepped into the fireplace with a practiced motion and tossed the powder at his feet.
"Diagon Alley!"
A flash of emerald flames, and he was gone.
Daphne stepped up next. She hesitated only a heartbeat before disappearing with her own flash of fire.
Now it was my turn.
I inhaled. I stepped in. I tried not to scream like a kettle.
"Diagon Alley!"
WHOOSH.
If you've never traveled by Floo Network, imagine being stuffed into a glass tube, spun like a blender set to "obliterate," and flung across a mosaic of chimneys while your soul briefly questions its life choices.
Then silence.
I landed in a fireplace at the back of an old shop, coughed out ash, and stepped into sunlight.
Then I froze.
Diagon Alley.
It wasn't just magical. It was magic.
The cobblestones shimmered underfoot, humming faintly with age-old spells. Above us, banners for Flourish & Blotts fluttered in a wind that didn't touch the ground. Storefronts leaned slightly toward each other like old friends sharing secrets.
To our left, Ollivanders loomed like a cathedral of wands, its windows filled with floating boxes that occasionally rearranged themselves with soft clicks. Across the way, Eeylops Owl Emporium had a giant bronze owl perched above its roof, its glowing eyes blinking slowly.
Madam Malkin's displayed silver-trimmed school robes on a mannequin that kept adjusting its collar dramatically. A wizard on a unicycle juggled enchanted ink bottles outside Scribbulus. Every so often, a cauldron from Potage's let out a loud burp.
It was loud, alive, ridiculous and I loved it.
I turned to Daphne, eyes wide.
"This is way better than the movies."
She squinted at me. "What movies?"
"Nothing. Ignore me. I'm overwhelmed and making references you'll never understand."
"You are really weird sometimes, brother."
We followed Father through the crowd, his figure tall and composed. Daphne walked like she belonged. I walked like someone pretending not to gawk at a levitating top hat doing cartwheels.
He turned down a quieter side street near Twilfitt and Tattings, where a pale figure in perfect robes stood waiting like he owned the entire continent.
Lucius Malfoy.
Next to him stood infamous "I will tell my father about this" Draco Malfoy, looking like he had just judged everyone in the alley unworthy and found them guilty of existing.
"Lord Greengrass," Lucius greeted smoothly.
"Lucius," Father replied. "A pleasure. May I present my children."
Daphne stepped forward with a graceful nod. "Daphne Greengrass."
Lucian Greengrass. Five years old. Polite on the surface. Inner chaos professionally contained.
I gave a tiny bow and kept my mouth shut, mostly because one of them will finance sponsor for dark lord, and the other looked like he'd grow up to host them. No need to be the reason little Draco learns his first Unforgivable.
Draco looked me up and down. "He doesn't say much, does he?"
"He says plenty," Daphne replied. "Usually when it's least appropriate."
Draco turned to her. "We've just returned from a holiday in France. Father wanted me to see proper wandcraft up close."
"How cultured," Daphne said. "We've just returned from reading seven books in a row."
"It's important to experience the world," Draco said. "Not everyone can afford to travel, of course."
"Sure," I said quietly, finally chiming in. "But not everyone needs a vacation to learn how to act."
Draco blinked. "What does that mean?"
I smiled sweetly. "Exactly."
While the fathers discussed Very Important Pure-Blood Business over tea, the three of us sat at a separate table, locked in a tense triangle of inherited pride, forced politeness, and mutual judgment.
Draco finally broke the silence.
"I've already started private lessons," he said, casually brushing dust off robes that weren't dusty. "Father says it's good to be ahead of the curve. I've mastered three spells already."
Daphne arched an eyebrow. "That's impressive."
He puffed up. "Yes. Scourgify. Lumos. And the jelly-legs jinx."
I glanced at Daphne. "The classics."
Draco tilted his chin. "Of course, not everyone has the discipline to study early."
I finally spoke. "Right. Some of us have hobbies. Like sleep."
Draco frowned slightly. "Well, I prefer to use my time productively."
"And I prefer my legs not to jiggle on command," I said. "But here we are."
Lucius clapped once, sharply. "Draco. Time to go."
Draco turned, gave us a final superior glance. "See you at Hogwarts. Try not to embarrass yourselves."
"We'll do our best," I said.
They left in a flourish of cloaks and ancestral entitlement.
After the meeting, father allow us to spent the next hour gathering supplies and stuff we would like to buy.
At Flourish & Blotts, Daphne disappeared into the potions section and didn't come out for ten minutes. At Slug & Jiggers, I accidentally activated a vial that sang when shaken. At Quality Quidditch Supplies, I stared too long at a Nimbus 1990 and whispered, "One day…"
We passed a side alley with a sign reading "Cursed Curios & Questionable Candies." I took one step toward it. Daphne yanked me back like a parent grabbing a toddler near a snake pit.
We ended at Florean Fortescue's, eating ice cream. Mine was fizzing and probably illegal. Daphne's was dainty and minty and made her look like she disapproved of sugar in general.
"I like it here," I said through a mouthful.
She glanced at the crowd. "Too many people."
As the sun dipped low and golden light spilled across the alley, Father gathered our bags with a flick of his wand.
"Time to go."
Daphne rose smoothly, brushing imaginary dust from her robes. I took one last look around the swaying shop signs, the glittering windows, the owl that was still staring at me for some reason.
"Goodbye, suspicious cauldrons," I said solemnly.
"Farewell, cursed teapots."
"Rest easy, broom I wasn't allowed to buy."
Daphne sighed. "You're talking to inanimate objects again."
"They understand me."
She rolled her eyes but waited for me at the fireplace.
I stepped in last, grinning. "I'll be back," I whispered to the alley.
The green flames flared.
And just like that, the cobblestones vanished behind me — but the magic will always stayed.