The Boy Who Never Was - A Harry Potter Fanfic

The Granger family, Professor McGonagall, Hermione, and I stood just outside the unassuming facade of the Leaky Cauldron.

The pub, nestled between a record shop and a large bookshop, seemed invisible to the passersby on Charing Cross Road.

To us, however, it shimmered faintly, like it existed in a world just slightly out of sync with this one.

"Come along," Professor McGonagall said,

pushing open the creaky wooden door and leading the way inside.

The interior was dimly lit, with a low ceiling and a cozy yet chaotic arrangement of tables and chairs.

The air smelled of old wood, ale, and something sweet with a sprinkle of cinnamon.

Tom, the barkeeper, a bald and toothless man with a genial smile, greeted us from behind the counter.

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall. Bringing new students, are you?"

"Indeed, Tom. This is Miss Hermione Granger, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and Mr. Sky Kingston," McGonagall introduced, gesturing to each of us in turn.

"We're here for a visit to Diagon Alley."

Tom nodded. "Ah, first time, eh? Well, you're in for a treat. Straight through to the back, Professor?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied.

We followed her past the bar, through a narrow corridor, and into the courtyard at the rear of the pub.

The area was small and unremarkable, save for a brick wall opposite the door and a large trash bin positioned to one side.

Professor McGonagall withdrew her wand, her demeanor as strict and efficient as ever.

"Now, pay attention," she instructed.

"To access Diagon Alley, you must tap the correct bricks in the proper sequence. Watch closely."

She approached the wall, pointed her wand, and tapped a brick three up from the top of the trash bin and two to the right.

A faint clicking sound echoed, and the bricks began to shift and rearrange themselves.

The wall folded outward, brick by brick, until it formed a large archway, revealing a bustling street beyond.

Hermione's eyes went wide, her mouth slightly agape.

Her parents exchanged astonished glances, and I couldn't resist letting out a low whistle.

"Neat," I muttered.

As we stepped through, I discreetly stored the trash bin in my inventory.

No one seemed to notice, though McGonagall shot me a sharp look, perhaps sensing something.

I just gave her an innocent smile standing directly in front of where the trash bin should have been.

Diagon Alley was a riot of color and sound.

Shops with whimsical signs and displays lined the cobblestone street, and witches and wizards in robes of every color seemed to occupy the busy street.

To our left was a shop with a towering stack of cauldrons in varying sizes labeled "All-Purpose Cauldrons."

On the right, a store's window showcased an array of dicta-quills and enchanted parchment.

"This place is amazing!" Hermione exclaimed, craning her neck to take in the sights.

"Stick close," McGonagall said, guiding us through the throng.

"Our first stop is Gringotts Bank."

As we approached the towering white building with its crooked columns, I noticed the inscription above the grand bronze doors.

Gringotts was a masterpiece of goblin architecture that seemed to defy physics judging by the leaning columns responsible to supporting its structure.

The presence of armed guards flanking the entrance added to its imposing aura as well.

"Look at this," I said, reading the inscription aloud:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed.

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"Huh, neat," I commented, smirking.

"This sound like a challenge right?"

"Absolutely not!" McGonagall snapped, her voice sharp enough to turn heads.

I raised my hands in mock surrender.

.....

yeah, definitely a challenge

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We stepped through the doors into the marble hall of Gringotts.

The vast space was lined with long counters behind which goblins worked diligently.

The goblins were short and pale-skinned, with long, pointed noses, large ears, and thin, bony fingers.

Some were bald, and their dark, slanted eyes gleamed with a shrewd intelligence.

They wore tailored formal attire, and their movements were precise, almost mechanical.

McGonagall led us to a teller at the far end of the hall. The goblin looked up as we approached, his sharp features impassive.

"Good afternoon," McGonagall said briskly.

"These are Muggle parents and their daughter, a new student attending Hogwarts. We're here to exchange currency."

The goblin inclined his head.

"Of course. The current exchange rate is 29 Knuts to a Sickle, 17 Sickles to a Galleon, and 10 British pounds to a Galleon. How much will you be exchanging?"

Hermione's parents hesitated, but I reached into my pocket and pulled out a thick wad of British pounds.

The Grangers' eyes and the Professor widened in shock.

"Where did you get all that money from?!" Emma said in disbelief.

"I earned it from good old hard work and plenty of effort." I said with a smirk.

"This is around 5000 British Pounds, is this enough?" I asked, casually placing the stack on the counter.

Hey, I told you the orphanage I stayed at previously was seedy.

I put a lot of work in not getting caught. 

Hey!! Five-Finger discounts are hard to get.

The goblin's lips twitched in what might have been amusement.

"More than sufficient."

As the goblin began counting the pounds and preparing the exchange, I leaned in.

"Do you do inheritance tests here?"

The goblin's dark eyes narrowed slightly. "We do for vault holders."

I looked contemplative, "and how much is needed to own a vault?"

"You need to either be from a wizarding family or at least make a 100 Galleons Deposit. If your not from a wizarding family, you will be asked to either maintain the 100 Galleons in your vault, at least make a monthly deposit of 5 Galleons a month, or be surcharged 5 Sickles a month."

I nodded thoughtfully, filing that information away for later.

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