As they reached the back alley, Dumbledore drew his wand. Erwin couldn't help but stare at its gnarled shape, like a series of knotted joints. This was the Elder Wand.
"Mr. Cavendish," Dumbledore said, "pay close attention. Next time, you'll need to enter alone. Tap the third brick up from the trash can, then the one to its left."
With that, the Elder Wand flicked against the two bricks. The wall shuddered, bricks sliding over one another like a living puzzle, until the bustling street of Diagon Alley lay revealed beyond.
Seeing the magical world unfold just like in the stories filled Erwin with a thrill of excitement and wonder. He was already pondering the mechanism—could he replicate something like this at home? Imagine a wall in his bedroom: tap once for the kitchen, twice for the garden. Far handier than stairs or lifts.
Dumbledore pocketed his wand. "Did you catch that?"
Erwin nodded. "Yes, but what if the trash can's moved?"
The old wizard chuckled. "A sharp question—two of your predecessors thought the same and tested it by shifting the bin. But it's under a restoration charm; it always snaps back. No worries there."
"Brilliant magic," Erwin murmured.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You'll encounter plenty more wonders soon. This is a whole new world, and with your quick mind, I suspect you'll thrive in it. Now, let's head to Gringotts to exchange some gold. You won't get far in Diagon Alley without Galleons."
Erwin agreed, and they ventured deeper into the alley. It was a single, vibrant street lined with shops bursting with oddities: cauldrons bubbling over hearths, broomsticks gleaming in windows, owls hooting from perches. At the far end loomed Gringotts, its white facade towering like a marble fortress.
The main entrance had two sets of doors. The outer pair were massive bronze, flanked by goblins in scarlet-and-gold uniforms who bowed stiffly to passersby. Beyond lay silver doors etched with golden warnings:
Enter, stranger, but beware.
Those who seek to steal that which is not theirs
Shall find not gold, but ruin.
Thief, heed this: retribution awaits.
Erwin smirked inwardly. The safest vault in the wizarding world? From what he remembered, it had been breached more than once. And trusting goblins with fortunes? They were infamous for greed—wars had erupted over it. Different race, different motives. Did wizards truly believe charms and contracts could keep them in line?
Pushing through, they entered a vast marble hall, opulent and echoing. Chandeliers cast sparkling light over counters where dozens of goblins scribbled in ledgers, weighed coins on antique scales, or peered through eyeglasses at gems. The air hummed with the clink of gold and the faint gleam of treasures.
Dumbledore steered Erwin to a free counter. A goblin in spectacles peered over them, then hopped down from his stool with surprising agility.
"Professor Dumbledore! Welcome to Gringotts. How can we assist?"
The headmaster inclined his head. "Mr. Cavendish here needs to exchange some gold for Galleons. I'll be withdrawing a few items from my vault."
The goblin nodded briskly. "Right away. Shall I escort you?"
Dumbledore turned to Erwin. "Can you handle the exchange alone?"
"Absolutely, Professor. Go on—I can manage."
Leaning in, Dumbledore whispered, "Goblins drive hard bargains. If the rate seems off, drop my name. I'm old, but not entirely useless yet."
Erwin grinned. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
With a nod, Dumbledore followed the goblin down a side passage. Erwin watched him go, a faint frown creasing his brow. The headmaster was being awfully generous—almost suspiciously so. But there was no time to dwell; another goblin approached to handle the exchange.
Mentioning Dumbledore's name worked like a charm. The process was swift and fair: Erwin traded two small chests of gold bars for five thousand Galleons. The coins felt solid and warm in his pouch, each one stamped with intricate wizarding runes.
With time to spare before Dumbledore returned, Erwin finally turned his attention inward. He'd been too caught up in the whirlwind of arrival to examine his System properly, but now, with the magical world stretching before him, it was time. This system would be his edge.
Silently, he thought, System? Are you there?
[The Ultimate Reputation Card-Drawing System at your service, Host!]
[Hello, Erwin Cavendish.]
The chime echoed in his mind, stirring a familiar twinge—like some over-the-top game from his old life. Erwin glanced around; the goblins carried on oblivious. Only he could hear or see this.
"Explain yourself," he thought.
[This system lets you draw cards using Reputation Points earned in the magical world. Rewards include spells, talents, and more. Currency: Magic World Reputation Points. For convenience, your profile is now digitized. View it?]
Yes.
A translucent panel shimmered into existence before his eyes, invisible to all but him.
[Name: Erwin Cavendish]
[Age: 11]
[Identity: Current Head of House Cavendish; Hogwarts First-Year]
[Talents:]
[Transfiguration: 3/10]
[Common Spells: 4/10]
[Talent in the Dark Arts: 9/10]
[Potions: 6/10]
[Ancient Magic: ?/10 (Locked—requires special activation)]
[Pets: None]
[Special Skill Cards: None]
[Spell Mastery Cards: None]
[Items: None]
[Current Reputation Points: 50]
Erwin absorbed the details, a spark of anticipation igniting. Low scores in most areas, but that near-perfect affinity for the Dark Arts? It hinted at untapped potential—and risks. The Ancient Magic lock intrigued him most; whatever "special means" it demanded, he'd uncover them. This system wasn't just a tool; it was his ticket to power in a world that could turn treacherous fast.
As Dumbledore reemerged from the passages, pouch in hand, Erwin dismissed the panel with a thought. The headmaster smiled. "All set? Excellent. Now, let's get you properly equipped for Hogwarts."
Erwin nodded, falling into step beside him. Diagon Alley awaited, full of mysteries—but with the system humming quietly in the back of his mind, he felt ready for whatever came next.