“Professor Flitwick, Feisuoen, I wish you all the best.”
Russell suppressed the urge to vomit and watched the Knight Bus drive away. He had been wrong, and terribly so. The Knight Bus was much bumpier than a Muggle car.
Flitwick’s face was also a bit pale. If Russell hadn't quickly grabbed him just now, he might have fallen forward.
At this moment, they were on a bustling street, with people flowing like a river. Yet, in such a place, there stood an extremely old-looking pub, and passersby nearby seemed to ignore it, as if there was nothing out of place.
But to Russell, it was so conspicuous, as if it was inviting him in. This was the Leaky Cauldron, the only way to Diagon Alley from the Muggle world.
“The Muggle-Repelling Charm, a very simple but practical spell,” Flitwick said with light steps. “It can confuse muggles’ perceptions, making them subconsciously overlook certain things.”
With a creaking sound, they pushed the door open and walked inside.
The pub was not large, even a bit cramped. The wooden tables were full of traces left by time, appearing somewhat dirty. Most of the guests were shrouded in their hoods, sitting in groups of three or five, whispering. Seeing someone enter, they all cast scrutinizing glances at them.
Most people just glanced over and then continued their conversations. However, in an unnoticed corner, the faces of several wizards hidden beneath their hoods suddenly turned grim.
“Damn it, why is Flitwick here? He won’t affect our plans, will he?” one of them said in an extremely low voice, with a hint of panic.
“Calm down, Golden Finger,” a dry, hoarse voice beside him said. “Didn’t you see the boy next to him? He’s probably a new student from a Muggle family. He’s just here to take him shopping; he won’t go to Gringotts.”
“Hogwarts is becoming more and more degenerate. Damn Dumbledore! If it weren't for him, how could so many mudbloods pollute this sacred soil?” The last person, dressed in a purple robe, was the shortest in stature but had the strongest aura among the three.
However, he was only talking big. Forget Dumbledore, he might not even be a match for a decent seventh-year student. Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of sadness. He was clearly a pure-blood wizard, and from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, so why had he fallen to such a state today?
He looked at his two companions beside him with disdain. Now, only these vermin were left by his side. When would he be able to revitalize his family? Thinking of this, he couldn't help but touch his arm, a mix of excitement and apprehension welling up in his heart.
Tom, the hotel owner, was very old. His hair was almost gone, he had no teeth, and his face was full of wrinkles, looking like a shriveled walnut. Russell was afraid he would collapse in front of him at any moment. Although there shouldn't be such a scam as ‘pengci’ in the wizarding world, he still remained vigilant.
Flitwick and Tom chatted very warmly. It was clear from their conversation that they were old friends. Just as Tom asked Flitwick if he wanted a drink, a clear look of longing appeared on his face, but then he waved his hand, refusing Tom’s kind offer.
“Tom, next time. I have things to attend to today.”
After bidding farewell to Tom, he led Russell through the back door into a courtyard, arriving in front of a wall. In the corner of the wall, there was an empty trash can.
He pulled out his wand and lightly tapped the trash can. The trash can immediately transformed, as if dissolving, and stuck limply to the ground. Flitwick walked forward, and the trash can skillfully supported his body, lifting him up.
“Remember this spot,” Flitwick pointed to a specific brick, “just a light tap with your wand, and the door will open automatically.”
With a soft tap of the wand, the wall instantly split open to both sides, flipping like dominoes, revealing the street beyond.
“This looks amazing,” Russell curiously surveyed the scene before him. Everything here was new to him.
“Many young wizards from backgrounds like yours are like this the first time they come to Diagon Alley,” Flitwick’s words contained a smile. It was only at times like these that he felt Russell was just an eleven-year-old child.
Flitwick took a bag with the Hogwarts crest out of his pocket and handed it to Russell.
“Thank you, Professor,” Russell took the money bag, and the coins inside jingled pleasantly.
“There are thirty Galleons inside, enough to buy the items listed on the checklist.”
Russell frowned upon hearing this. He remembered that one wand alone cost seven Galleons, plus cauldrons, robes, textbooks, and so on. After buying all of these, there wouldn't be much left. He also wanted to buy a pet and some gifts for the Adams Family, as they had taken good care of him.
Thinking of this, Russell looked at Flitwick.
“Professor, is there anywhere I can exchange pounds for Galleons?” Russell touched his jacket pocket. Although he couldn’t fully control his parents’ inheritance yet, there was still a good amount of cash at home.
I am quite wealthy.
“Of course, look, Gringotts is right there. It’s the goblins’ territory.”
The Gringotts Wizarding Bank building was a tall, towering, snow-white marble structure, very conspicuous among the shops in Diagon Alley. Its main entrance faced Diagon Alley, with a white stone staircase leading to two gleaming bronze doors. Next to the doors stood a goblin dressed in a scarlet, gold-trimmed uniform.
It was short, with yellowish-gray skin, black eyes, and unusually long hands and feet, but relatively short legs.
Behind the bronze doors was a silver door, flanked by two more goblins, staring straight ahead without blinking.
Further inside was a tall marble hall. Hundreds of goblins sat on high stools behind a long row of counters, some weighing coins on brass scales, some examining gemstones with their eyeglass, and others scribbling in large ledgers.
“Welcome, esteemed customer,” a goblin sitting idly behind a counter spotted them and quickly walked over, enthusiastically saying, “My name is Pendant. How may I assist you?”
His gaze was entirely focused on Russell, not even glancing at Flitwick.
“I would like to exchange some pounds for Galleons.”
“Alright, alright, please follow me,” his initially warm expression immediately cooled, and he stretched out his words, slowly turning and walking towards the counter.
He had initially thought it was some big business, but it turned out to be just exchanging pounds for Galleons.
Goblins were very displeased with such matters, as Muggle currency like pounds was like waste paper to them. As for why they didn't exchange pounds for gold in Muggle society and then process it into Galleons, it was due to arrogance. Although they were merely subordinates to wizards, they looked down on Muggles just like pure-blood wizards.
