"To my knowledge, there are no places or shops in Cambridge that are suitable for buying your school supplies. We will travel to Diagon Alley in London using magical means. For your information, Diagon Alley is one of the largest magical communities in Great Britain."
She continued: "Diagon Alley is a place where witches and wizards gathered in the late 16th century to hide from witch hunts. Hidden by the then newly created Muggle protection spell, it became a safe zone where witches and wizards could hide."
She glanced at me briefly out of the corner of her eye.
"Oh, yes, the Muggle-Repelling Charm is a spell that prevents Muggles from entering a room."
I paused briefly, opening my mouth to learn more about the spell, but her answer left me silent.
"Don't worry, you'll learn how this fundamental spell works in Charms class."
We turned right into a deserted-looking alleyway.
Clearing her throat, she continued her explanation.
"Back to the history of Diagon Alley."
"Over the centuries, it developed into the most important shopping centre for witches and wizards in Great Britain."
"Whether it's ingredients for potions, wands, broomsticks or all kinds of accessories..."
"You'll be surprised how different the magical community is from the Muggle community." The word 'Muggle' had a surprisingly intense undertone that I almost missed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Professor McGonagall. With my inner gift, which gave me enhanced perception, I saw a brief flash of disgust and hatred, which quickly faded away.
Oh? Interesting.
Professor McGonagall suddenly stopped in front of a door.
An antique-looking door, overgrown with moss and vines, stood before us. Metallic decorations were embedded in the wood.
With the passive ability of my inner gift, I saw silver magical particles streaming out from the bottom of the door.
Waiting, I watched Professor McGonagall's next move.
With a flash, blue magical particles gathered in her palm. A long wand materialised in her hand.
She stretched out her wand and made a sweeping motion that resembled the infinity sign.
Silver particles streamed from her wand and solidified on the door.
Suddenly, the antique-looking door swung open.
A completely bare small room, measuring 4m², was revealed. Runes, which I could see thanks to my inner gift: The Eyes of Destiny, pulsated with magical power.
Professor McGonagall stepped into the small cabinet without hesitation. After a moment's hesitation, I followed her.
I probably won't be apparating with her to Diagon Alley. Well, at least I'll learn where wizards gather. This will definitely be useful in the future...
After Professor McGonagall and I entered, the door closed silently.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed runes carved into the floor beginning to pulsate. Others began to absorb magical particles in the air.
Suddenly, the room, no, the lift, jerked downwards.
Surprised by the sudden movement, I almost lost my balance. I managed to find support on the wall.
Professor McGonagall looked at me with a well-concealed expression of slight amusement. However, she quickly smoothed her features back into a serious facade as I regained my balance.
But how could she hide her amusement from a wizard who, thanks to his inner gift, had enhanced powers of observation?
"*Ahem*", what exactly is this, this...lift? And where does it go?"
Professor McGonagall, who had regained her usual expression, quickly answered my question.
"As you already know, the magical people had to go into hiding in the late 16th century due to the witch hunts. Over the years, places were established where wizards and witches could meet safely, no matter where they were, thanks to a new revolutionary means of transport! At the time, it was an incredible achievement that revolutionised our transport options."
After a short pause, she continued.
"One of these rare places is here in Cambridge, 400 metres underground. These places were created in the late 18th century by Anderson Diggory, who had an inner gift for coordinates and locations, connecting the whole of Great Britain! According to his wishes, such places were called: The Underground Diggory Safe Place Station, or TUD-SPT for short."
"A very talented wizard, no question, although his talent for choosing names is questionable..." complained Professor McGonagall.
While Professor McGonagall complained to Anderson Diggory about his poor talent for naming, I focused more on the Diggory family.
According to Francois' memories, the Diggory family appears in the fourth book. The Weasley family and the Diggory family, not to mention Harry Potter, of course, had arranged to travel to the Quidditch World Cup using a Portkey. Cedric Diggory is also introduced, but this character dies at the end of the fourth series.
He should also be in my year...
Whatever, but what's even stranger is that there is no Underground Diggory Safe Place Station in the books, nor is it mentioned.
Not to mention inner gifts...
The lift stopping brought me out of my thoughts.
Without much of a commotion, the door dematerialised, revealing the underground landscape.
"Welcome to the magical world, Mr. Noir." Professor McGonagall said to me.
The view was truly breathtaking.
The enormous stalactites and stalagmites immediately caught my eye. They glowed like candles in the dark, illuminating the underground village. Houses and shops were built into the rock, and laughter and conversation filled the refreshingly cool cave. Various floors were built into the cave. You could go up or down via the natural giant columns, which served as spiral staircases.
A huge waterfall cascaded from the top floor down to the lowest levels. Colourful fish swam up the huge stream, defying gravity.
Large, pitch-black bats fluttered wildly around, leaving dark magical waves behind them, creating fantastic-looking patterns in the air.
The streets were crammed with wizards. Pointed hats of all kinds could be seen in droves.
Many wore clothing from the Victorian era. Most wizards wore wizard robes, but trench coats or dresses were actually much more common...
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Professor McGonagall watching me. I turned to her questioningly, raising an eyebrow.
With a slight smile, she stepped to the right and waved to me.
"Come, we don't have much time before the next transport to Diagon Alley."
She strode through the narrow streets and I followed her along the narrow streets. I looked around in amazement.
The concentration of magical particles was the most intense I had ever seen in my life. Fascinated, I watched the magical particles of all colours dancing around my fingers. Suddenly, a particularly large bat flew over me, dripping with magical particles.
As if drawn by a magnet, the magical particles flew from my fingers to the bat, which flew a few metres above me. All the particles in the area flew after the giant jet-black bat, which had a wingspan of at least 6m².
The magical particles, which bore an astonishing resemblance to the Northern Lights, streamed after the monstrous bat.
As the breathtaking bat slowly disappeared from my field of vision, I was unfortunately unable to focus my attention on the path ahead of me.
It was a surprise when a young man radiating a strong magical aura bumped into me.
"Hey, watch where you're going, idiot!"
I lowered my gaze back to the road. Opposite me was a young wizard of about 15 years of age who was glaring at me angrily with his hazel eyes. His smooth brown hair ran down from his forehead. His fringe covered his eyebrows, making his annoyed, narrowed eyes more prominent. His pale skin, which looked like marble, gave him the appearance of a beautifully crafted doll.
He wore an expensive-looking dark robe that fit tightly around his body. An intricate-looking coat of arms was knitted into the left side of the robe. With my enhanced perception, I saw that Parkinson was written beneath the crest.
Hmm, Parkinson?
A girl in Harry Potter's year had the surname Parkinson. Pansy Parkinson, sorted into Slytherin, not to mention a pureblood.
An older brother or relative of that age was not mentioned in the books...
"Oh, excuse me. It's the first time I've seen the magnificence of the wizarding world. I was too impressed by my surroundings and unfortunately didn't pay attention to the path in front of me."
Somewhat surprised by my calm reaction, his annoyed expression relaxed.
"*Hmph*", just be more careful next time..." he replied, brushing the non-existent dust off his shoulder that had been kicked up during our collision.
"I hope you won't remember our meeting badly, after all, we'll probably see each other again during our years at Hogwarts, Mr.?" I replied.
When I mentioned that I was going to Hogwarts, I caught a hint of surprise and, if I'm not mistaken, joy? But these expressions quickly faded.
"It's nothing, don't worry about it. My name is Asterius Parkinson. And you are?" His eyes widened slightly in anticipation.
"Kiran Noir, a pleasure." I replied.
His attitude towards me underwent a drastic change. A slight smile played around his lips. The one-sided confrontation was forgotten.
What an interesting development.
"See you at Hogwarts, Mr. Parkinson." I said goodbye.
I quickly made my way to Professor McGonagall, who was waiting for me a few metres away.
"I apologise for the minor incident, Professor McGonagall." I said.
Professor McGonagall did not respond at first, and we continued on our way.
"Mr Noir, I have a piece of advise for you."
I turned my head towards her.
Her face radiated its usual seriousness and authority. However, the intensity with which she pressed her lips together did not fit with this appearance.
"I'm listening..." I replied, my attention completely focused on her.
She took a quiet, deep breath.
"In magical Britain, powerful so-called pure-blood families, in particular the Holy 28 pure-blood families, have held power in Britain for centuries. Even though the Ministry is increasingly limiting their power, they hold high positions, which often allows them to get away with things."
"Some of these pure-blood families supported and some joined a terrorist organisation called the Death Eaters. These terrorists believed that the descendants of non-magicians were not worthy of the gift of magic."
"Even today, there are wizards who believe this and have bad motives. Even at Hogwarts, one of the best wizard schools in the world, is still influenced by it."
I dodged a small girl who was laughing as she ran after another child before asking:
"What do you mean by Hogwarts still being influenced, Professor McGonagall?"
A long sigh escaped her, and she reflexively scratched her hair.
"You must know that only particularly talented muggle-borns are invited to Hogwarts. For half-bloods and pure-bloods, it's not a matter of course. The school board, which consists of 12 governors, has rejected the idea of allowing less talented muggle-borns to attend Hogwarts due to a 'lack of funds'. The remaining students are invited to other magic schools that are funded by the Ministry."
Well, that explains the previous surprise of Asterius Parkinson, who was surprised that I, a muggle-born, could attend Hogwarts.
As a particularly talented muggle-born, I would undoubtedly be of great use.
The information that Asterius Parkinson wanted to exploit me had long been deduced from my enhanced perception, his amateurish acting skills, and, not to mention, my Legilimency, which allows me to sense superficial emotions.
But that only particularly talented muggle-borns were accepted into Hogwarts was, even for me with my meta-knowledge that I am beginning to doubt, new.
This major change will most likely trigger a butterfly effect that will destroy my advantageous knowledge.
*Heh*, actually, I can no longer give my meta-knowledge any credibility either.
What a pain in the ass.
A long sigh escaped my mouth.
Professor McGonagall looked at me pityingly, completely unaware that my reaction did not match her interpretation.
"Do not worry, Mr Noir, you're safe at Hogwarts. It's one of the safest places in the world! If you ever find yourself in trouble, you're welcome to come to me for help."
*Pfff*, I almost let out a mocking laugh. Hogwarts, the safest place in the world?
"Who are you kidding, Professor?"
What a funny joke.
Outwardly, however, I maintained a grateful, somewhat fearful and tense expression.
This expression revealed the inner turmoil of an 11-year-old boy who had been transported into a new world and had just discovered that racists, mentally retarded and arrogant people ruled this new world.
Well, I suppose anyone in my situation would react that way.
Let's hope that's accurate.
Professor McGonagall led me silently on the way to the magical transportation that would take us to Diagon Alley.
***
[A/N:
Hey guys,
Sorry for the irregular updates. Procrastination and depression are kicking in. Whatever happens, I will now update regularly.
Hopefully :)
Take care.
Byee
]
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