Thrifting in Diagon Alley
1756 words
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Jen almost walked past the entrance to the pub. It was little more than a narrow storefront clad top to bottom entirely in black wood, with only a small sign spelling ‘The Leaky Cauldron’. Upon spotting it, however, it stood out as clearly as a black bear hiding behind a lampost.
She dashed to grab her mother.
Folk music drifted over the hum of conversation. Candles gently illuminated round wooden tables and scattered stools hosting jolly clusters of mostly greying cloaked figures.
Behind the bar, a stocky man in a tan apron methodically polished beer glasses. The sleeves of his rumpled white button-down rolled up to his elbows. Deep lines were engraved on his forehead and around his eyes. The candlelight cast harsh shadows across his face as he worked.
Meena’s red-bottomed heels echoed across the stone tiled floor, clicking sharply with each languid step. She approached, inquiring about Diagon Alley.
The barkeep, Jotaro, kindly led them to the storage room in the back, and casually walked up to a random wall.
“Tap.”
For a heartbeat or two, there was pin silence.
Then the old red bricks crumbled like dominos, peeling away to reveal a scene unlike anything Jen had ever seen. The world exploded into hustle. Colours that seemed like they were freshly torn from a rainbow seared into her retinas.
Her eyes were drawn upwards by a broom stick on a joy ride, weaving effortlessly between rooftops. The wizard waved cheerfully at her from thirty feet in the air. He swept low over Jen's head and did a loop.
Victorian buildings leaned precariously around them, as though perpetually on the verge of toppling, lumped over one another like a toddler’s Lego tower. Dormers, balconies, and extensions tilted drunkenly over the street. A witch reached out of a third-floor window to collect her post from an owl without breaking conversation with her neighbour on the opposite balcony.
Just below, a crowd of bobbing hats flooded through the alley. The folk were clad in medieval dress, from vibrant tunics to ballooning robes.
Some people reached into coin pouches and pulled out entire houses without a care, as if this was a normal Tuesday for them.
A young boy left an ice cream shop, only burst into tears moments later when his brother waved his wand and turned his ice cream into frogs.
Every sign seemed determined to shout louder than the last- flashing, bouncing, or occasionally arguing with its neighbours - at storefronts upon storefronts crammed inches from each other.
One shop window practically demanded her attention. Vintage sweets pressed eagerly against the shatterproof glass beneath a sign reading ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’, whining to be let out to play with every passing child.
Beside it was a store that almost looked like it was made entirely of stacks upon stacks of books, if not for the sensible front door and window display peeking out.
Jen hardly knew what to look at next.
A girl gasped. She pointed up, eagerly shaking her friend’s shoulder and insisting she saw a golden snidget. Jen’s gaze climbed higher.
Standing tall above every other structure in the skyline, which was no small feat, was an immense domed building ringed in Roman pillars and marble filigree.
Carved in delicate, swooping cursive above the great stone doors were the letters ‘Gringotts Bank’. On either side of the grand double doors stood two squat figures encased in ornate silver armour. The fingers of their gloves curled into long delicate knives. Sharply pointed boots matched their helmets, whose shiny crests curved into a regal raven’s beak. All that could be seen of them beyond elegant eye openings were glittering eyes coloured black throughout the sclera.
Jen and her mother exchanged wide-eyed looks as the brick wall silently smoothed out behind them.┓
────────Ahead, the rest of Diagon Alley unfolded.────────
Reducio
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⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ 
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⟡˖ ࣪
╱|、(˚ˎ 。7|、˜〵ᓚじしノ┓┗
┗ After hours of shopping, the crowds had finally become too much. Jen looked around in search of a moment of calm.
Turning into a dark corner, Jen nearly tripped over a solid shadow. There sat a lump of matted dark fur. The thing licked its paws menacingly and directed its calculating glare down the road, drawing Jen’s gaze to a shop crawling with chaos. Creatures spilled out of every opening, while harried teenage workers hurried to wrangle them in. Beyond the display were city blocks of cages, stacked up like high rises. Every imaginable noise poured out of the place - honks, howls, screeches, squawks.
Jen huffed, meaning to turn away.
The furry beast, still in her way, meowed pitifully.
She looked back. Every other creature in the shop seemed frantic. The furball looked up at her with patient, almost human appraisal.
“Don’t you give me that, I’ve already spent close to a million galleons in this place. Well, that’s an exaggeration, but there really is so much to look at here – infinitely roomy trunks, self-heating ceramics, flying carpets, sentient books, enchanted mirrors - enchanted everything really, I could go on.”
Its golden eyes continued to bore into her, as if reading her soul.
“I can’t go around liberating animals without a warrant now- “
It gave a low, gravelly meow. Jen looked closer at him, squinting.
“Are you even for sale? I doubt even a mangy understaffed and over animalled pet store would keep you that filthy”
He glared, as if he understood what she had said and was appropriately miffed by it. Jen’s eyes widened.
"Oh. You must be magical."
Jen blinked. "Earlier I watched enchanted Daily Prophet clippings beat each other to pieces, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you understand me. Magic gives every silly little thing a personality."
He snarled, hissing at her.
“Can you talk too?”
He flicked his tail at her as he stalked off.
“Come on now I didn’t mean to say you’re stupid. You seem very intelligent." Jen angled her head. " I can get you out of here if you’d like. I’m heading to Hogwarts in a few weeks. From what I skimmed in Hogwarts: A History, there’s a huge open field, and lots of turrets”
He paused, as if considering what she was saying. Jen grinned, leaning back.
“Now that I mention it, I recall the castle having a forest that stretches miles into the highlands, stocked full of little scimpering mice and voles and all those types. Did I mention how spacious this castle is, because my lord it’s a big one, mm hm, real huge.”
He squinted at her, but he hadn’t walked away yet. He circled her thoughtfully, sizing her up like prey.
“So, what’ll it be, old buddy old pal. What say we ride together into the Scottish sunset”
Yellow eyes slowly blinked at her. He sat down at his old spot and continued licking his paws, tail swishing from side to side.
“Okay? Not one for heroics, are you? I have heated cushions?” Jen squatted and held out her palm above his head. He tilted his head up, leaning into her strokes, and trundled forward into her lap.
Jen giggled at his demands. “You’re right, I am also a heated cushion.”
She hauled him up around his haunches, getting a good look at him. He was a gorgeous midnight black cat, or at least he would be, after a proper bath. Up close he looked a lot scruffier. It seemed the fur made up for the lack of mass. He gave her a disgruntled look. She had expected a monster but was instead a starved cat wrapped in enough fur to impersonate one.
“Come on,” she said as she got up, half tucking him into her shirt. She strolled back towards the shop her mum was browsing. “Hmm, what to call you?”
He said nothing as he got comfortable on her shoulders, jiggling about.
“How about Jelly? You much of a fan of the stuff?”
“Meow”
“True say, Jelly”
Jen walked into Flourish and Blotts, where she found her mother muttering in a corner with a spread of books around her, mainly on the Hogwarts school subjects.
“God, what are they teaching here?”
“Hey mum”
Meena’s head snapped up.
“Jen, where have you been? And what on earth is that? Anyway, look at this codswallop of a maths curriculum!”
She jabbed a pointed fingernail on a page full of strange symbols and charts. Jen looked at it. It looked like maths.
“Oh, I just picked this guy up from the pet store. His name’s Jelly, and he’s some sort of magical cat. Can I pick up something on magical cat care? Pretty please.”
“A magical cat?” Meena stared at Jelly as if expecting him to do a backflip at any moment. “I guess that’s your thing now, isn’t it?”
Meena sighed at the textbook, snapping it shut before standing up with a hand from Jen. She brushed herself off, gathered the textbooks, and aimed a glare at Jen. “Don’t you think you’re getting away from a proper education, young lady. We will be discussing this, preferably with a member of staff!”
Jen gulped, “Yes ma’am”
The cat meowed.
“Go get your things, we’ll meet at that wall we came out of.”
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Last edited by Jen Noor on 10 Sep 2026, 18:28, edited 68 times in total.
Thrifting in Diagon Alley
Wiseascres Wizarding Equipment
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Jen slipped in, ogling the contraptions. Their prices far exceeded Jen's allowance, so she ventured towards the smaller knick-knacks, bagging a ceramic self-heating mug and a handheld brass lumenite lamp at a reduced price. A clock shaped like a black cat blinked sleepily at her from its shelf, its tail curled up around it. The enamel was chipped, and the glass on its clock body was scraped. Jen cradled it until it fell asleep, bundling it safely away.
Jen reluctantly made for the counter, dilly-dallying over magical tidbits. A pair of oval pink quartz lenses in rose-gold frames, encrusted in pink gemstones, could see telescopically long distances. There were fortune-telling teabags and a wand-customizing kit.
There were hundreds of little enchanted keyrings at a sickle apiece, like a silver acorn for good luck, a tiny hourglass that ran while you waited, a spider that came to life when something was hidden nearby, a frog charm that croaked before it rained, a green eye that opened when someone looked at you, a crystal dream-catcher that sparkled with the mood of your dream, angel wings that stirred a refreshing breeze, or a key that rattled at the right door.
She paused. Some watches were on a two-for-one sale. She eyed a gold chain-mail watch. Carved characters and hanging charms framed the clock face. Words like 'dream' or 'believe' were engraved into the gold carvings on either side. Instead of numbers, each interval was a word describing the colour of the hour.
Beside it was a black leather watch with copper accents. Its shimmery purple clock face was a mini planetarium encased in glass. It was lined with bronze markings detailing the time of year and day. Seven tiny coloured marbles moved in real time around a gold ball on an imprinted axis.
Jen's resolve broke. She bagged the watches and the wand-customizing kit and bee-lined for the counter before she could regret it.ᓚᨐ┓
Last edited by Jen Noor on 5 Sep 2026, 14:33, edited 20 times in total.
Thrifting in Diagon Alley
Second Hand Robes
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Jen ambled up to a detached store bearing the name ‘Twilfitt and Tattings’. Stone steps encircled the lavender double doors. Jen’s eye snagged on an elaborately tailored, abyssal-teal velvet dress robe in the display. It was embroidered with delicate, sparkling rose-gold threads to resemble a starry night, with a luminescent, gossamer-thin, misty grey-green net trailing over it to create depth. Elegant, spangled bronze buttons of varying sizes adorned the robe, along with ethereally trailing sleeves and ribbons. The enscribed price tag read ‘50 galleons’.
She tromped away from the bougie pocket, searching for something more within her price range. Down south, the shopfronts turned into doors, and even further on, the doors narrowed to strips, until one had to squeeze sideways to get in.
One such store hung a dingy little sign that read ‘Second-Hand Robes’. Jen squeezed through a rust-black door and stumbled out into a wide corridor lined with clothing racks. It vanished into more racks, all crossing one another. The articles themselves possessed no inkling of order. Upper benjamins neighboured lace ball gowns, which sat next to elf tunics, corset-backed blouses, lacy jean boots, and baby onesies.
She picked up a hat collecting dust on a high shelf. It was a soft, woolly felt witch’s hat, conical with a relaxed brim, a slouch around the crown, and a Luma charm dangling from its crooked tip. Its black dye had faded into a warm charcoal grey, hinting at its age. It felt homely to Jen, like a soft blanket on a rainy day.
The plump old witch rounded a corner and told her that the hat hadn’t had a head to sit on for twenty years. It had been one of many belongings of an old friend who had passed away. A brief hand-wash and a few passes with a lint roller revealed the hat’s fine material, while the Luma charm - enchanted with a freshening charm - dangled with new life.
When Jen asked about school robes, the store clerk yanked a lump from between the frillage. It unrolled into a lived-in black robe, donated by a wizard who had traveled the land for the latter half of her very long life. The store clerk assured Jen that it was undamaged but very comfortable. The fabric appeared smooth at a glance, but upon closer inspection, she noticed that its surface was made up entirely of a patchwork of slim pockets, the largest ones hugging the inside length of the sleeves. For some extra sickles, it she magically tailored it to Jen's measurements and charmed it to grow proportionally.
She stuffed it all in her extending trunk.ᓚᨐ┓