NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: The Leaky Cauldron
It was immediately obvious that even something as ordinary as an acceptance letter was vastly different in the world of Hogwarts compared to the Muggle world.
For example, the orphanage director, who had previously been firmly set on sending Allen to a public school, signed the return slip without hesitation after seeing the letter. He didn't question the strange list of magical supplies required or show the slightest bit of doubt about a school he'd never heard of. Clearly, the magic embedded in the letter had obscured the truth from Muggle minds, brushing aside what would otherwise be a major breach of the Statute of Secrecy.
And take now, for instance, when Allen gave the cab driver the destination, "The Leaky Cauldron," the driver, who moments earlier had looked at him like he was joking, suddenly had a look of realization cross his face.
It seemed the magic of the letter also helped the driver ignore the enchantments concealing the Leaky Cauldron, just like the Grangers had experienced when they went shopping for Hermione's school supplies, without a friendly Hagrid to guide them.
With a proper address, the rugged driver carried out his task far better than Allen had expected. Half an hour later, the taxi came to a halt in front of a bar so dilapidated it looked like it could be torn down any second.
After paying the fare, Allen stepped out. As expected, the driver mumbled to himself as he drove off, likely already beginning to forget the bar's existence under the spell's influence. After all, the Ministry of Magic kept a close eye on this, the entrance to London's most magical shopping street.
Allen took a moment to observe the famous yet shabby-looking Leaky Cauldron. Its grimy windows and faded sign didn't live up to the legend at all. As described in the books, it was dim, dirty, and in stark contrast to the two bright and tidy shops flanking it. Anyone looking at it for the first time would likely assume it was a seedy dive serving cheap booze, clouded in cigarette smoke, with loud music and garishly dressed barmaids.
Allen even wondered if there might be a drunken patron out front relieving himself, though considering this wasn't some hidden alley but the literal entrance to the wizarding world, doing that would probably be the magical equivalent of livestreaming such a disgraceful act. He snorted to himself, maybe someone that dumb would get a headline in the Daily Prophet.
Inside the pub, Allen was immediately greeted by the sight of the nearly bald, nutcracker-faced bartender, Tom. He was vigorously scrubbing a beer mug with a filthy rag, Merlin helped whoever drank from that cup next.
Under the dim glow of a candle-lit chandelier, Allen took in the sparse clientele. A few wizards in pointed hats were playing bridge and drinking heartily. Why were wizards playing a Muggle game like bridge? Who knew, maybe ask Merlin.
At another table, two wizards were noisily playing wizard chess. Judging by the volume and rage of one of the chess pieces, a knight currently yelling, "You dung-brained goblin! How dare you send a noble knight like me into that position? That's what pawns are for! Use him instead!", Allen figured it might be time for those two to buy a new set.
If Allen had a chess piece like that, he might've thrown it straight into the fireplace.
At the last table sat a man enjoying a cigarette, or so it seemed. Upon closer inspection, Allen noticed the cigarette had lit itself and, with comically stubby legs, had walked over and climbed into the man's mouth. Allen rolled his eyes. "You don't even know how to enjoy a proper smoke?"
As Allen scanned the room, Tom, the kindly bartender, had already noticed the new arrival and waved him over.
"Well, well, a fresh face! Though, by law, you're a bit young for the usual fare. How about a glass of dandelion juice?" he offered cheerfully.
Allen put on his best shy-kid-in-a-strange-place expression and replied, "Sorry, sir. I don't even have a single Knut on me. I'm a new student at Hogwarts. I just need to head to Gringotts to exchange some money."
"Oh ho! Is it that time again already?" Tom slapped his balding head and pulled a pale green bottle from the shelf. With a pop, he uncorked it and poured its contents into the very glass he'd been wiping. He pushed the drink toward Allen and said with a grin, "No worries, this one's on the house! Consider it old Tom's way of congratulating you on getting into Hogwarts, it's a fine school, lad."
It was a generous gesture, and Tom certainly seemed like a good man. Allen was touched, and also desperate to refuse.
But it was useless.
Judging from the room, the only person capable of opening the way into Diagon Alley was Tom. So, Allen did what he had to: he accepted his fate, picked up the glass, and downed the drink in one go, like a bitter herbal medicine.
Surprisingly, it wasn't bad at all. A bit of bitterness gave way to a gentle sweetness that lingered on the tongue, and Allen felt a wave of energy sweep through him. After everything that had happened, he hadn't exactly been sleeping well, so the drink's rejuvenating effect was a godsend.
"That was amazing! Easily the best drink I've ever had!" Allen praised without holding back.
Tom clearly appreciated the compliment. He opened the bar gate, gave Allen a hearty clap on the shoulder, and beamed. "With taste like that, lad, you'll definitely be top of your class!"
Allen mentally grimaced. What does a drink and "taste" have to do with being a good student? It's wizard school, not pilot school. Are you saying kids with glasses like Harry are automatically failures?
Suppressing the urge to sigh, he cautiously asked, "Mr. Tom, would you mind sparing a moment to help me get into Diagon Alley?"
"Of course, lad! That's a simple thing. Follow me." Tom led Allen to the back door and out into a small walled courtyard.
"Now watch closely, lad," said Tom, moving over to a trash bin and pulling out his wand. "Count three bricks up, then two across. Yes, right here! Remember it!"
He tapped the brick with his wand.
The brick began to tremble, then shift. A small opening appeared, growing wider and wider until a broad archway emerged, tall enough for even Hagrid to pass through, revealing a winding cobblestone street that stretched beyond sight.
And so, the gate to the magical world opened.