NOVEL NEXT Chapter 3: The Versatile Galleon
Diagon Alley certainly lived up to its title as the greatest pedestrian street in the wizarding world. Even Allen, someone well-versed in the splendor of modern commercial districts, couldn't help but be captivated. Tom, the Leaky Cauldron's barkeep, looked quite proud of this, though Allen was tempted to point out that his grimy pub contributed nothing to the street's charm and might even qualify as Diagon Alley's eyesore…
But for someone from the modern world, it wasn't the colorful buildings or magical trinkets that impressed Allen most. It was the shop window display of a self-stirring cauldron, which was currently using its stubby bronze arms to toss various ingredients into itself with impressive urgency.
Everyone knew that Professor Snape, the long-time Potions Master, held an open grudge against every Gryffindor in sight (presumably due to heartbreak and possibly losing his pants in the process). Allen briefly entertained the idea that this cauldron might help him dodge some of that infamous Snape-hate in class.
That thought didn't last long. In his mind, he could already hear Snape's cold, mocking voice:
"Oh, look at our brilliant little first-year. You think potion-making is just waiting around while your cauldron does the work? Use what little brain you have, magic isn't meant for simpletons!"
Yeah. Probably not worth it. The contraption was likely as reliable as Filch's "Squib Self-Defense" class, more gimmick than game-changer. If it were truly that effective, Snape would've been out of a job by now.
Allen ignored the overhead sign that read, "Copper – Brass – Pewter – Silver Cauldrons! Fully Automatic! Foldable!" and moved on alone. Old Tom, who had pointed him to Gringotts earlier, had already taken off. They weren't family, after all, Allen figured the barkeep felt he'd done enough.
Gringotts stood proudly above the surrounding shops, its snow-white façade gleaming. Bronze doors shimmered beneath the sunlight, and a goblin in crimson-and-gold-trimmed uniform stood guard, one of the wizarding world's most "unreliable" magical creatures.
Goblins were infamous for their occasional rebellions, but their importance was undeniable. They excelled at crafting magical artifacts and were bound by a strict, if sometimes alien, code of contracts. They wouldn't steal a single Knut of human gold, and Gringotts was their sanctuary. Only the best goblins were assigned there, drawn to the vaults of unimaginable treasures. Amusingly, even during rebellions, Gringotts never shut down. Goblin logic truly defied comprehension.
Not that Allen cared about any of that. At the moment, he was at the currency exchange window, trading his Muggle money for wizarding coins. In the wizarding system:
17 silver Sickles made 1 gold Galleon
29 bronze Knuts made 1 Sickle
5 pounds exchanged for 1 Galleon
Allen was instantly annoyed. Who designed this ridiculous exchange rate? Try saying that conversion out loud, it was a nightmare!
When the exchange was done, he walked away with a hefty bag of coins, not all of it from scholarship funds. Now that he had a system, Allen had no problem doing a bit of vigilante work. After all, defeating a few bad guys and pocketing some loot was basically tradition in isekai stories, wasn't it?
Curious, Allen pulled out one Galleon to examine it, and just then, he heard a cheerful ding from the system:
"Congratulations! Gold coin detected. Use it as system currency?"
Allen blinked.
He'd tried everything before, but the system ignored all other currencies. Who would've guessed it would accept Galleons?
Of course! It made perfect sense for a magic-based system to recognize wizarding money.
Naturally, Allen chose yes.
The system's gold counter jumped from 0 to 10. Not bad, 1 Galleon equaled 10 system coins.
Or so it seemed.
Actually, what a scam!
Allen couldn't help but curse. Ron Weasley once said he didn't even have a single Galleon. At the rough conversion, 1 Galleon equaled about 10 pounds. In most games, 10 pounds gives you about 100 gold coins. That meant Allen just spent 10 pounds for 10 system coins, a rip-off of epic proportions.
To put it in perspective:
Anyone who's played League of Legends knows the number 6300, the price of many champions. That would mean 630 Galleons for just one item!
And let's not forget, the Triwizard Tournament prize was 1000 Galleons, not even enough to buy two 6300-coin items…
What had once felt like a bag full of wealth now seemed miserably inadequate. All Allen could think was:
"I'm broke."
Somewhere, Vocaloid goddess Luo Tianyi might still be singing in another world, but her so-called knight had probably been paid in counterfeit gold...
Outside Gringotts, the blazing sun hung high in the sky, glowing bright as a golden Galleon. It should have filled Allen with joy…
But poverty has a way of dampening even the sunniest moments.
Ignoring the system's persistent recharge prompts, Allen steeled himself. His first destination was the most important: Ollivanders Wand Shop.
For a wizard, nothing was more crucial than a wand. Without it, one's magical ability was more than halved. A wand wasn't just a tool, it was a wizard's most loyal companion.
So when Allen arrived at the only wand shop in all of Britain, he was stunned.
The place was… tiny. And dingy. The gold letters on the sign were peeling, and the entire storefront looked like it belonged on a condemned property list. This couldn't be the legendary shop every Harry Potter fan dreamed of visiting.
If not for the worn sign reading:
"Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C." and the lone wand resting atop a faded purple cushion in the dusty display window, he would've assumed the shop was about to go out of business.
He hesitantly pushed open the surprisingly well-maintained door, and was greeted by a gentle voice:
"Ah, another eager first-year, I see?"
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