3. diagon alley

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The Leaky Cauldron turned out to be a dingy looking pub in the middle of London. He had never been to London before, but all of his focus was on the old building. Harry's brow furrowed slightly, wondering what they were doing there. Could something that looked like that really be magic?

Professor Snape opened the door and followed Harry inside. It was dark, lit by fire instead of electric lights, and filled with people wearing strange-looking clothes. Professor Snape placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him through the pub quickly. Harry wasn't trying to linger, but it seemed that the professor wasn't eager to remain too long.

"Professor Snape!" the barman exclaimed as they passed him. "Can I offer you a drink? Perhaps some butterbeer for the young lad?"

Snape glanced at the barman, black eyes glittering in the darkness.

"No thank you, Tom, not today," he said brusquely, urging Harry on.

"My word," the barman, Tom, breathed. "It can't be... Harry Potter?"

The Leaky Cauldron suddenly went dead silent, as if Tom's quiet words had been broadcasted out over them all.

"Harry Potter?" the murmur rose. "The Harry Potter?" People stood to get a better look at him. Harry swallowed heavily, not liking all the attention at all.

Tom hurried out from behind the bar, reaching for Harry's limp hand.

"Mr. Potter, what an honor to meet you," he said, his grip firm in Harry's. "Welcome back, sir, welcome back."

That seemed to let loose a flood of people, and suddenly everyone in the pub wanted to shake his hand. They crowded around him, all speaking at once, and Harry shrunk back against Professor Snape, hoping desperately that the man would help him.

Before another person could approach, however, there was a loud bang. Harry flinched, and looked toward the sound. Professor Snape's wand was in the air, a look of fury on his face.

"If you're quite finished," he said coldly, his voice echoing throughout the room. "Mr. Potter is here to get his school supplies, not to be gawked at. I suggest you let us pass."

Whether it was the wand in the air, or Professor Snape's foreboding expression, the crowd parted, leaving them a path to the back of the pub. Once they arrived there, a pale young wizard moved forward, apparently not intimidated.

"Quirinus," Professor Snape greeted as he escorted Harry into the alley behind the pub. The wizard followed.

"S-severus," he stuttered, though he was looking down at Harry. "M-Mister Potter, wh-what an honor it is to m-meet you."

"This is Professor Quirrell, Potter. He'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts," Professor Snape explained as Harry shook Quirrell's hand.

Professor Snape's wand was still in his hand, and he reached forward, tapping the bricks on the wall at the back of the alley. Harry gasped as the bricks began to shift, leaving a wide archway behind. On the other side, Harry could see a street full of witches, wizards, and shops, and he couldn't help but gape.

"W-well, I'll leave you to y-your shopping," Quirrell said, with a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Be s-seeing you at H-hogwarts, P-potter." And he swept off.

Harry glanced up at Professor Snape.

"Will everyone be like that?" he asked.

"I should hope not," Professor Snape replied with a frown. "Now, we'd best head to the bank. The goblins have been taking care of your inheritance."

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