I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling deeply. "Yeah, okay. I get it. Sort of."
Dudley looked relieved, clapping me roughly on the shoulder. "Listen, Potter, whatever you decide to do, I've got your back. I might not get all this wizarding shit, but you're still my cousin."
I felt myself relax a little, smiling faintly at his earnest expression. "Thanks, Dud. That means a lot."
"Anytime," he said with a grin, nudging me lightly. "Now, how about we at least grab a beer somewhere before heading home?"
I chuckled softly, shaking my head as we started walking. "Sure, Dud. One beer. And you're paying."
Dudley and I had ended up at a crowded, noisy bar downtown. Music thumped loudly, neon signs glowed brightly, and people filled nearly every inch of space, laughing and talking over each other. We sat at the bar, Dudley downing his beer quickly while I slowly sipped mine, thoughts drifting constantly back to Fleur, Gabrielle, and the bizarre revelation they'd shared with me.
Throughout the evening, several women approached us. Some were young, probably university students like us, and others were more mature, bold enough to openly flirt and drop clear hints that they were interested. They leaned against the bar, offering to buy drinks or simply asking if I was alone tonight.
"Hey there, handsome," a tall blonde in a tight dress purred, sidling up next to me. "Need some company tonight?"
I shook my head politely, giving her an apologetic smile. "No thanks, just hanging out with my cousin."
She shrugged, disappointed, before moving away. A couple more girls tried the same, flashing inviting smiles and making it clear they were interested. But after the strange day I'd had, after meeting Fleur and Gabrielle and learning about magic-real magic-I simply wasn't in the mood.
None of these girls compared to the intrigue and mystery of the French sisters or the wizarding world they'd hinted at.
Dudley, however, had no such thoughts. He enthusiastically chatted with every girl who approached, finally focusing his attention on a particularly pretty brunette in a short skirt and tight top. She giggled at all his jokes, touched his arm repeatedly, and soon enough, Dudley had convinced her to come home with us.
We climbed into Dudley's car, the girl squeezing herself between us in the front seat. I sat awkwardly against the passenger door, trying to give them as much space as possible. Dudley grinned widely as he drove, obviously pleased with himself.
The brunette glanced at me with a mischievous smile, her eyes glazed slightly from alcohol. Suddenly, without warning, she tugged down the neckline of her top, baring her perky tits and pink nipples to me openly. "Would you like to join in?" she asked boldly, her voice playful and sultry. "I'm always down for a devil's threesome."
Dudley's eyes immediately darted sideways. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, swerving the car sharply, barely managing to keep control!
"Dudley, keep your eyes on the damn road!" I snapped, grabbing the dash for support as the car steadied again.
He chuckled nervously, refocusing on driving while still stealing glances sideways.
Turning my attention back to the girl, I shook my head firmly but politely. "Thanks for the offer, but no thank you."
She pouted dramatically, obviously disappointed. "Aw, that's no fun," she sighed, shifting her attention fully back toward Dudley. "Guess I'll have you all to myself, then."
Her hand drifted toward Dudley's lap, fingers tracing slowly along his thigh before boldly reaching for his zipper. Dudley swallowed audibly, struggling to keep his attention on the road as her hand slipped inside his pants.
That was my cue to leave.
"Dudley, just let me out here," I said firmly, already reaching for the door handle. "We're close enough. I wanna check out that address Gabrielle gave me anyway. I won't be able to sleep if I don't."
"Sure thing, man," Dudley responded distractedly, clearly more focused on the girl's exploring hand than on anything I was saying. He barely slowed the car enough for me to safely hop out onto the sidewalk.
"Have fun!" I called sarcastically over my shoulder as the car pulled away, Dudley's laughter mixing with the girl's loud giggles.
I walked down the street for a few more blocks as the sun dipped lower, casting a soft golden glow over the buildings. My heart thumped steadily with anticipation as I moved closer to the address Gabrielle had whispered to me earlier. The street was mostly quiet now, shadows stretching out and deepening around me. But as I approached my destination, an odd sensation prickled at my skin, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
My senses suddenly felt overloaded, like there was something heavy and buzzing in the air. I'd never experienced anything quite like this before. Was this magic? Real magic from other people? Until now, I'd only ever sensed my own powers, and this was completely different.
I slowed my pace, taking a careful look around. Several people had appeared, wandering down the street dressed in the strangest clothes I'd ever seen. My eyes widened as I took in their odd attire. They wore robes-actual robes that looked like something out of a historical movie or a fantasy novel.
"Are they seriously wearing old-timey robes?" I muttered quietly to myself, blinking in disbelief.
As I got closer, I realized many of them looked slightly unkempt. There was dirt on some robes, unbrushed hair, and disheveled appearances overall. It made me wonder uneasily if maybe the magical people in London were all homeless or something.
"Doesn't magic come with showers?" I asked under my breath, shaking my head a bit.
Still unsure, I spotted an old pub on the corner. A faded, slightly crooked sign swung gently in the evening breeze, creaking softly as it read "The Leaky Cauldron." The pub didn't exactly look inviting, but the oddly dressed people were moving in and out like it was perfectly normal. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The interior was dimly lit, the air thick and smelling strongly of old ale and stale smoke. I squinted a bit, trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness. The pub itself looked ancient-cracked wooden tables, worn benches, and walls stained with age. A few patrons glanced up briefly, giving me indifferent looks before returning to their conversations.
As I stood there, still adjusting to my surroundings, I noticed a small group moving quietly toward the back of the pub. There were three of them-a middle-aged man in dark blue robes, a younger woman wearing bright green, and an older woman with long, gray hair cascading down the back of her scarlet robes. They spoke quietly to one another, their voices low but audible enough to catch my attention.
"Come along, we still have some shopping to do in Diagon Alley," the older woman said impatiently.
Diagon Alley.
That was the place Gabrielle had mentioned to me earlier. Without a second thought, I discreetly fell in step behind them, hoping no one would notice or object.
They didn't even glance my way as they walked through the back door of the pub into a small, cramped courtyard. The younger woman stepped forward, pulling out a thin wooden stick from her robe pocket.
"Right then, stand back," she instructed, tapping several bricks in a quick, deliberate sequence.
I watched carefully, committing the pattern immediately to memory. I'd always had a knack for remembering details like this.
As she tapped the last brick, I jumped slightly in shock as the entire wall began shifting and rearranging itself right before my eyes. Bricks moved fluidly, sliding smoothly aside to form an archway that revealed an entirely new street-bright, bustling, and packed full of people.
"Bloody hell," I whispered in awe, stepping forward slowly. The sight before me was incredible. It was like stepping into a completely different world. Shops lined both sides of the cobblestone street, their windows filled with strange and exotic items that I couldn't even begin to name. Owls fluttered overhead carrying small packages, children raced excitedly past holding ice creams that appeared to change colors, and groups of robed people chattered animatedly.
Diagon Alley was definitely way nicer and cleaner than the shitty-ass pub I'd just walked through. I took slow, curious steps along the cobblestone path, eyes wide and trying to absorb everything at once. All around me, magical people strolled casually, chatting and laughing in their strange old-fashioned robes. Shops lined both sides of the street, each packed with brightly-colored displays and objects I had absolutely no clue about.
I paused briefly, glancing into the nearest shop window. Brightly polished instruments spun slowly on stands, their surfaces glittering in the lamplight. I had an urge to step inside immediately and ask what the hell all these weird gadgets actually did, but I hesitated. I really didn't want everyone here thinking I was some clueless bumpkin from nowhere.
Turning away, my gaze shifted toward a small group of kids gathered near an ice cream shop. The storefront was cheerful, brightly painted with stripes of pink and yellow. A smiling older man behind the counter scooped ice cream into cones and handed them to eager customers.
Curious, I moved a bit closer to watch. The kids reached into their pockets, but instead of pulling out pounds or notes, they held small metal coins, gleaming silver, gold, and bronze in their palms.
I patted my own pockets lightly, frowning. I definitely didn't have anything like those metal coins. I wondered briefly if they'd even accept normal money here at all.
"Thanks, Mister Fortescue!" a young boy said cheerfully, handing over a few bronze coins and eagerly taking his ice cream cone. He licked it enthusiastically, grinning widely as he walked away.
My eyes wandered further along the bustling street and finally settled on a huge building down at the far end of the alley. It was impressive, towering grandly over the smaller shops nearby. Shiny white marble and massive. Above the front entrance, an enormous sign read clearly in golden letters: Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
I stepped closer, gazing at it thoughtfully. A bank-exactly what I needed. Maybe they'd exchange some of the regular money I had in my pocket.
As I walked up to the bank, I immediately noticed something weird. Standing out front were guards dressed in full medieval armor, holding actual swords and long spears. Their armor was shiny but battered, like they'd seen plenty of action.
Did people try to rob this place all the time or something?
And their faces-I grimaced without meaning to-they had rough, twisted features, bulging eyes, hooked noses, and uneven, sharp teeth. Honestly, their ugly looks were something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies-not that I really had any.
Another strange thing was their height. These guys were seriously short. None of them stood taller than about chest-level to me, and they eyed me warily as I approached, gripping their weapons tighter. Their nervous little eyes darted back and forth, looking anxious, even fearful.
I slowed down as I approached, raising my eyebrows cautiously. What exactly had I done to freak them out this badly?
The guard at the front stepped forward. He held his spear out stiffly in my direction, his hands shaking a little.
"What is your business here, Devil?" he growled sharply, his voice scratchy and gruff. "Are you here to rob us?"
Devil? I frowned slightly, confused.
What was he talking about?
"Whoa, relax," I said calmly, lifting my hands a little to show I wasn't a threat. "I'm just here to exchange some currency. You know, regular pounds into-uh-wizard money or whatever..."
"Oh," the guard said, visibly relaxing. He lowered his spear immediately, shoulders dropping as if relieved. Behind him, the other guards also eased up, their grips on their weapons loosening. "You should have just said so in the first place, Devil. Go on in, then. Talk to the Goblin teller Grubstomper, first desk on your left. Your kind doesn't have to wait in line like the humans."
He moved aside and gestured toward the large double doors behind him. As if sensing me coming, the doors swung open on their own, revealing the gleaming interior of Gringotts Bank.
Goblins huh? At least now I knew what these things were.
"Um, thanks, I guess," I muttered uncertainly, still caught off guard by the weird interaction. I stepped carefully past the guards, feeling their beady eyes follow me until the doors closed behind me.
Inside, the bank was just as grand as I'd imagined. Tall marble columns, pristine marble floors, and long rows of elegant desks stretched before me. Small creatures sat behind those desks, scribbling rapidly on parchment with feathered quills. They were clearly the same species as the guards out front, short, ugly, and sharp-eyed.
My mind drifted again to the word "Devil." Yeah, I'd always known I had wings. But I'd never seriously considered myself as anything other than human. Maybe I was some kind of mutant, like in those American comic books Dudley was always reading.
But now, after everything I'd experienced today, I was starting to realize I might've been wrong about that.
I found Grubstomper's desk easily, first on the left as instructed. The little creature sitting there glanced up nervously from his ledger, blinking his tiny, dark eyes quickly.
"Uh...are you Grubstomper the goblin?" I asked, stepping closer to the desk and resting my hands on the polished wooden surface.
The goblin swallowed, seeming uncomfortable and wary as he stared up at me. "Y-yes, I am Grubstomper. How can I help you...sir?"
"I just want to exchange some pounds for wizard money," I explained patiently, trying to sound friendly and non-threatening. I reached slowly into my pocket, pulling out my wallet and taking out several notes. "Can you do that here?"
"...It may not be necessary for you to exchange your Muggle currency at all. Your clan likely has an open account here at Gringotts. You might be able to withdraw funds directly."
I blinked at him in confusion.
Clan?
What the hell was he talking about? First I'd been called "Devil," and now I apparently had some kind of clan? For a second I opened my mouth to ask questions, but quickly changed my mind. Honestly, the way things had gone today, it felt better to just roll with it.
"Okay," I said simply. "That sounds... convenient."
The goblin nodded seriously and stood up from behind his tall wooden desk. He stepped around it and gestured for me to follow. "Come this way. We'll verify your lineage and see what vaults are accessible to you. My private office will provide more privacy for this matter."
