Diagon solo

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ᨐᓗ 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. Meena Noor was still on the lookout up ahead, frowning up at storefronts like they owed her money. Together, Jen and her mother approached the glossy black door. Meena glanced at her daughter, who, with a deep breath, gave it a tentative push. She took her first step into the world of magic. The door creaked shut behind them. Folk music drifted over through the hum of conversation. Candles gently illuminated round wooden tables, scattered stools, and jolly clusters of mostly greying cloaked figures. On the far end of the room stood the bar. A stocky man in a brown apron methodically polished beer glasses with the sleeves of his rumpled white shirt rolled to his forearms. Deep lines were engraved on his forehead and around his eyes, likely from decades spent behind the same counter. The candlelight cast harsh shadows across his face as he worked. Meena’s heels clicked sharply across the stone tiled floor, echoing through the room with each languid step. She approached and inquired about Diagon Alley. The barkeep, Jakoby, 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 chipped red bricks fell like dominos, peeling away to reveal a scene unlike anything Jen had ever seen. The world exploded into bustling noise. Colours that seemed like they were freshly torn from a rainbow seared into the back of her eyes. Everywhere she looked, the cobbled street screamed its denial of physics. Her eyes were drawn upwards by a broom stick on a joy ride, weaving effortlessly between rooftops. Jen only realized someone was riding it when a lady waved cheerfully at her from thirty feet in the air. She did a loop. An owl swooped dangerously low over Jen’s head, before swiftly sweeping upward to weave between chimneys, along with other creatures that fluttered, hooted, croaked or brayed, all going about their business as casually as pigeons in Trafalgar Square. Victorian buildings leaned precariously, 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 the neighbour hanging upside down from the opposite balcony. Just below, a crowd of bobbing hats flooded through the alley. The folk were clad in medieval finery in all shapes and sizes, from colourful velvet tunics with matching hats to long swishing robes. Most held stylish batons that trailed sparks when twirled. Some people reached into coin pouches and pulled out entire houses without a care, as if this was a normal Tuesday for them. A girl chased after escaped socks. 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. An explosion erupted somewhere down the street. A pair of the oldest folk ever didn't even bat an eyelid, despite looking as though a stray wind would disintegrate them into dust at any moment, built like aged paper as they were. 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 crystal 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 boy gasped and pointed up, eagerly shaking his friend’s shoulder and insisting he 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 intricate stone detailing. Carved in delicate, swooping cursive above the great stone doors were the letters ‘Gringotts Bank’. On either side of each door stood two small figures encased in ornate silver armour. They were proportioned rather differently to others of their height, being slightly more broad-shouldered. 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 couldn’t help but stare. They exchanged wide-eyed looks as the brick wall silently smoothed out behind them and turned to the pavement over on the side.

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────────Ahead, the rest of Diagon Alley spread out before them.────────

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(˚ˎ 。7

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ᓚじしノ

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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. In her path sat a lump of matted black fur. It 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 furry thing 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 seems determined to give even the silliest little things 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. 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 Scotland, stocked full of little scampering 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 younger. 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 holding an underfed kitten 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.” ᓚᨐ

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