Diagon Alley (Part 1)
Jacob woke early the next morning. He was laying on the floor of a shack that looked about ready to cave in, under a huge thick black coat, next to Harry, who was holding onto him even as he slept. It took Jacob a few seconds for his mind to process what was going on, but he finally remembered last night. The overabundance of letters, the boat ride to the shack on a rock, Hagrid appearing, him telling them that they were wizards, the truth about their parents, and some history about a man named Voldemort. Harry began to stir from beside him.
“It was a dream,” he murmured to himself firmly. “I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell us we were going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes, we’ll be at home in our cupboard.”
Jacob scoffed. “Even if Hagrid had been a dream, we’d still be in this miserable little shack.”
Harry opened his eyes, hazy confusion clouding the green orbs. He blinked a few times as he looked around. They both sat up, Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off of them. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, and Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa.
“It was all real? We really are wizards, then?”
Jacob smiled at his brother.
“Apparently.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The boys looked over towards the sound. There was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. They looked at each other, then back at the owl. Harry scrambled to his feet, went straight to the window, and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat. Jacob reached out to pet the owl. Its feathers were soft, and appeared to be well-cared for.
“Hagrid!” said Harry loudly. “there’s an owl – ”
“Pay him,” Hagrid grunted into the sofa.
“What?”
“He wants payin fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.”
Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags… finally, it was Harry who pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. Jacob looked at them curiously.
“Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily.
“Knuts?” both boys questioned.
“The little bronze ones.”
Harry counted out five little bronze coins and gave them to Jacob, who was closer to the owl. The owl held out his leg so Jacob could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.
Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.
“Best be off, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.”
Harry and Jacob were turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. They had just remembered something from last night, which worried them. It was Harry, though, who voiced their concern.
“Um – Hagrid?”
“Mm?” said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.
“We haven’t got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night… he won’t pay for us to go and learn magic…”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?”
“But if their house was destroyed – ”
“They didn’ keep their gold in the house! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold – an’ I wouldn’ say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, neither.”
“Wizards have banks?” Harry asked, looking astonished.
“We just found out that they have their own form of currency, so it would be safe to assume that they have banks. How many do you have, anyway?” Jacob questioned as he ate his sausage.
“Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins.”
Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding while Jacob looked at Hagrid, frozen in shock.
“Goblins?” thy questioned simultaneously.
“Yeah – so yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it, I’ll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe – ‘cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o’ fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business.” Hagrid drew himself up proudly. “He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin’ you two – getting’ things from Gringotts – knows he can trust me, see.
Got everything? Come on, then.”
Harry and Jacob followed Hagrid out onto the rick. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.
“How did you get here?” Harry asked, looking around for another boat. Jacob just looked at Hagrid questioningly, waiting for an answer.
“Flew,” said Hagrid.
“You flew?” both boys repeated.
“Yeah – but we’ll go back in this. Not s’pposed ter use magic now I’ve got yeh.”
They settled down in the boat, Harry and Jacob still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.
“Seems a shame ter row, though,” said Hagrid, giving the boys another of his sideways looks. “If I was ter – er – speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin’ it at Hogwarts?”
“Of course not,” said Harry at the same time Jacob replied, “Go right ahead.” Both were eager to see more magic. Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.
“Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?” Harry asked as Jacob looked at Hagrid questioningly.
“Spells – enchantments,” said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. “They say there’s dragons guardin’ the high-security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way – Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh’d die of hunger tryin’ ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat.”
The Potter twins sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. They had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this. However, it was very difficult for Harry, as he’s never had so many questions in his life. Jacob also had more questions than he’s ever had before, but he held his tongue and kept his thoughts to himself.
“Ministry o’ Magic messin’ things up as usual,” Hagrid muttered, turning the page.
“There’s a Ministry of Magic?” Harry asked, before he could stop himself. Jacob elbowed him in the gut.
“ ‘Course,” said Hagrid, who didn’t see anything. “They wanted Dumbledore for Minister, o’ course, but he’d never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin’ fer advice.”
“But what does a Ministry of Magic do?”
“Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there’s still witches and wizards up an’ down the country.”
“Why?” Harry asked, confused.
“Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone’d be wantin’ magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we’re best left alone.”
‘Actually, that would be a pretty good business opportunity, as long as we’re smart about it.’
At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.
Passersby stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. Harry and Jacob couldn’t blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, “See that, you two? Things these Muggles come up with, eh?”
“Hagrid,” said Harry, panting a bit as he and his brother ran to keep up, “did you say there were dragons at Gringotts?”
“Well, so they say,” said Hagrid. “Crikey, I’d like a dragon.”
“You’d like one?” Harry said in disbelief. Jacob, however, nodded his head in understanding. Now that he knew that dragons were real, he wanted one himself.
“Wanted one ever since I was a kid – here we go.”
They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes’ time. Hagrid, who didn’t understand ‘Muggle money,’ as he called it, gave the bills to Harry and Jacob so they could buy their tickets.
People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.
“Still got yer letters?” he asked the twins as he counted stitches.
Both boys took the parchment envelopes out of their pockets.
“Good,” said Hagrid. “There’s a list there of everything yeh need.”
Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn’t noticed the night before, and both twins read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupil’s clothes should carry name tags
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
• The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
• A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
• Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
• A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
• One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
• Magical Draughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
• Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
• The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
• 1 wand
• 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
• 1 set glass or crystal phials
• 1 telescope
• 1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
“Can we buy all this in London? Harry wondered aloud.
“If yeh know where to go,” said Hagrid.
Jacob looked over his list. These wouldn’t be enough books, he’d have to get some more while they were shopping.
Harry and Jacob had never been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.
“I don’t know how the Muggles manage without magic,” he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling lined with shops.
‘Maybe because they didn’t really have much of a choice.’ Jacob thought, but he held his tongue. The giant man had been nothing but kind to them so far, so the least he can do is return the favor.
Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all the twins had to do was keep close behind him. They passed book shops (that Harry had to drag Jacob away from) and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Where there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Dursleys had cooked up? If Harry hadn’t known that the Dursleys had no sense of humor, he might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told him so far was unbelievable, Harry couldn’t help trusting him. Jacob didn’t seem to have such doubts, having readily accepted that they were magic when they first read their letters.
“This is it,” said Hagrid, coming to a halt, “the Leaky Cauldron. It’s a famous place.”
It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn’t pointed it out, Harry and Jacob wouldn’t have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn’t glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn’t see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, the twins had the most peculiar feeling that only the three of them could see it. Before either boy could mention this, Hagrid had steered them inside.
For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, “The usual, Hagrid?”
“Can’t, Tom, I’m on Hogwarts business,” said Hagrid, clapping his great big hands on Harry and Jacob’s shoulders and making their knees buckle.
“Good Lord,” said the bartender, peering at Harry and Jacob, “are they – can they be – ?”
The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.
“Bless my soul,” whispered the old bartender, “Harry and Jacob Potter… what an honor.”
He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward the Potter boys and seized their hands, tears in his eyes.
“Welcome back, Messrs. Potter, welcome back.”
The twins didn’t know what to say. Everyone was looking at them. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.
Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harry and Jacob found themselves shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.
“Doris Crockford, Messers. Potter, can’t believe I’m meeting you two at last.”
“So proud, Messers. Potter, I’m just so proud.”
“Always wanted to shake your hands – I’m all of a flutter.”
“Delighted, Messers. Potter, just can’t tell you, Diggle’s the name, Dedalus Diggle.”
“We’ve seen you before!” said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle’s top hat fell off in his excitement.
“Yeah, you bowed to us once in a shop.” Jacob finished, recognizing the small man as well.
“They remember!” cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. “Did you hear that? They remember me!”
The Potters shook hands again and again – Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.
A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.
“Professor Quirrell!” said Hagrid. “Harry, Jacob, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts.”
“P-P-Potters,” stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping their hands, “c-can’t t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you two.”
Jacob looked at the man suspiciously. He didn’t trust him. Harry, however, didn’t seem to share his brother’s concern.
“What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?”
“D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts,” muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he’d rather not think about it. “N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potters?” He laughed nervously. “You both’ll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I’ve g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself.” He looked terrified at the very thought. Something felt off, though, as if this was all an act. Jacob decided he’d keep an eye on Quirrell when they got to Hogwarts.
But the others wouldn’t let Professor Quirrell keep Harry and Jacob to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.
“Must get on – lots ter buy. Come on, you two.”
Doris Crockford shook Harry and Jacob’s hands one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.
Hagrid grinned at Harry and Jacob.
“Told yeh, didn’t I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin’ ter meet yeh – mind you, he’s usually tremblin’.”
“Is he always that nervous?” Both boys asked at once.
“Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin’ outta books but then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience… They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o’ trouble with a hag – never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject – now, where’s me umbrella?”
Vampires? Hags? Harry and Jacob looked at each other, as if they could read each other’s minds. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.
“Three up… two across…” he muttered. “Right, stand back.”
He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.
The brick he had touched quivered – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider and wider – a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.
“Welcome,” said Hagrid, “to Diagon Alley.”
He grinned at Harry’s amazement and Jacob’s eager smile. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall. Jacob, however, continued looking forward.
The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons – All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver – Self-Stirring – Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.
“Yeah, you both’ll be needin’ one,” said Hagrid, “but we gotta get yer money first.”
Harry and Jacob wished they had about eight more eyes. They turned their heads in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, “Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an once, they’re mad…”
A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium – Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry and Jacob’s age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. “Look,” the twins heard one of them say, “the new Nimbus Two Thousand – fastest ever – ” There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments the Potter brothers had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels’ eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…
“Gringotts,” said Hagrid.
They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was –
“Yeah, that’s a goblin,” said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps towards him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, the boys noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:
‘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.’
“Like I said, yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it,” said Hagrid. Jacob was inclined to agree with him, though he was curious as to the safety measure the goblins had placed.
A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid, Harry, and Jacob made for the counter.
“Morning,” said Hagrid to a free goblin. “We’ve come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry and Jacob Potter’s safe.”
“You have their key, sir?”
“Got it here somewhere,” said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin’s book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals. Jacob noticed the goblin to their left was exchanging pounds for the weird wizarding coins.
“Got it,” said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.
The goblin looked at it closely.
“That seems to be in order.”
“An’ I’ve also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore,” said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. “It’s about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen.”
Jacob perked up at that, paying extra close attention as Hagrid handed over a letter to the goblin. The goblin read the letter carefully.
“Very well,” he said, handing it back to Hagrid, “I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!”
Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he, Harry, and Jacob followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.
“What’s the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?” Harry asked. Jacob didn’t think he’d get an answer, but he was curious about how Hagrid would respond.
“Can’t tell yeh that,” said Hagrid mysteriously. “Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore’s trusted me. More’n my job’s worth ter tell yeh that.”
“Dumbledore must really trust you,” Jacob smiled up at Hagrid, who beamed back at him.
Griphook held the door open for them. Harry and Jacob, who had expected more marble, were surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in – Hagrid with some difficulty – and were off.
At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn’t steering.
Jacob had his eyes closed, feeling the chilly wind whip at his face with a gentle smile on his lips. Harry’s eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted to see if it was a dragon, but too late – they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.
“I never know,” Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, “what’s the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?”
“Stalagmite’s got an ‘m’ in it,” said Hagrid. “An’ don’t ask me questions just now, I think I’m gonna be sick.”
He did like very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.
Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped while Jacob’s eyes widened. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.
“All yours,” smiled Hagrid.
All Harry and Jacob’s – it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn’t have known about this or they’d have had it from them faster than blinking. How often had they complained about how much the Potter twins cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to them, buried deep under London.
Hagrid helped the boys pile some of it into two bags.
“The gold ones are Galleons,” he explained. “Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it’s easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o’ terms, we’ll keep the rest safe for yeh.” He turned to Griphook. “Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?”
“One speed only,” said Griphook.
They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry and Jacob leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled them both back by the scruff of their necks.
Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.
“Stand back,” said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. Jacob watched in fascination.
“If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook.
“How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?” Harry asked as Jacob inspected the remains of the door.
“About once every ten years,” said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.
Harry and Jacob shared a look. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, they were sure, and both leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least – but at first they thought it was empty. Then they noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry and Jacob longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.
“Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don’t talk to me on the way back, it’s best if I keep me mouth shut,” said Hagrid.