"Diagon Alley!"
Mum's voice, perfectly clear and sharp, zoomed through the big Floo fireplace, and then poof! she was gone in a green swirl. Daphne, always super calm and proper, followed right after, just a graceful blur. Then came Astoria, who looked less like she was doing magic travel and more like a grumpy garden gnome had just launched her into space, hugging Mr. Snuffles for dear life.
"My turn," I muttered, stepping into the fireplace grate. The Floo Network. Man, it's still as charming as getting painfully squeezed through a clogged drainpipe full of glitter and razor blades. I took a deep breath, trying not to think about ash getting into my brand new, secret super-brain. That would be a huge pain!
"Diagon Alley!" I yelled, maybe a tiny bit too loud for a fancy Greengrass.
WHOOSH.
Yup, just as awful as ever. That feeling of being squished through a tight tube, all those blurs of chimneys and fireplaces flashing by, and then – thump! I landed with only a little stumble, managing a dignified cough to clear the ash. But then, wow, the world just exploded with vibrant, unfiltered color.
Diagon Alley. It hits you like a brightly painted, slightly crazy, super magical brick. The cobblestones shimmer underfoot, practically humming with old spells. Banners for Flourish & Blotts flap overhead, promising new books and ancient secrets. Shops lean in close, like old friends sharing whispered enchantments. Ollivanders looms, dark and mysterious, practically screaming about destiny, while Madam Malkin's shows off robes on mannequins that just look like they're judging your life choices. Some wizard on a unicycle (seriously, why?) juggles enchanted ink bottles, never dropping a single one. And every now and then, a cauldron from Potage's lets out a loud, wet, totally undignified burp. It's loud, alive, ridiculous, and absolutely amazing!
"Still way better than the movies," I whispered to myself, remembering that other life that feels more and more like a really, really detailed dream.
Daphne, who, of course, stepped out of her Floo trip looking totally perfect and unbothered, just raised an elegant eyebrow at me.
"What cinematic masterpiece are you talking about now, Lucian?" she drawled, her voice a smooth, exasperated sigh. "You say that same weird thing every single time we come here."
"Nothing! Seriously, nothing at all," I replied, waving my hand like, whatever. "You wouldn't get it. Besides, it's way too early for me to explain. My brain's already crunching tons of raw data." My new Great Sage skill was humming a quiet, constant tune in the back of my head, just gobbling up every piece of info. It was like having a super smart assistant doing a full check-up on reality itself:
'Analyzing shop layout: Optimal path to Gringotts detected.
Probability of encountering troublesome individuals:
Moderate. Atmospheric magical saturation: High.
Recommend active observation.'
Okay, System. Got it. But I also need to, you know, actually live it, not just get a tactical report.
Astoria, meanwhile, just looked around with big, serious eyes, hugging Mr. Snuffles even tighter, like he was her magic anchor. She wasn't overwhelmed; she was just... soaking it all in. Like a tiny, silent sponge for pure magical reality. She'll probably write a whole paper on enchanted dust bunnies later.
"Alright," Mum announced, pulling us together with her usual practiced grace. Her eyes were already fixed on the huge marble bank. "Gringotts first. We need to get our money sorted. Then we can tackle the less... stressful parts, like robes and wands."
The bank trip was, as always, a cool mix of ancient magic, stone-faced security, and those super quick goblins. Goblins! So many goblins. Their sharp eyes and sharper suits were everywhere, watching everyone with an intense stare. As we walked through the echoing marble hall, my Great Sage hummed again, spotting faint, almost invisible wards, noticing tiny shifts in the air pressure from the vault carts whizzing around below, and even quietly suggesting the best ways to avoid the grumpiest tellers. It was like having a super-powered assistant whispering secret facts right into my brain. Surprisingly helpful, even if a little distracting sometimes.
"Lucian, dear, try to look at eye level," Mum gently scolded, her voice a soft warning. I hadn't even noticed I was staring straight up at the ceiling. My new skill was trying to figure out how strong the stalactites were in the deep vault tunnels. Priorities, right?
After all the clanking, whirring, and that slightly terrifying roller-coaster ride down to the family vault (which was pretty small but packed, like most pure-blood vaults, though definitely no dragon's hoard), we finally came out, blinking, into the brighter main alley. Next stop: Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
"School robes, now," Mum said, and you knew she meant business.
Daphne's face actually lit up. Even she, with all her proper Greengrass manners, couldn't resist new clothes, especially fancy, custom-made ones. Me? I just braced myself. Madam Malkin's is famous for its weirdly judgmental mannequins and sales witches who are way too excited. As soon as we stepped inside, a plump, always-smiling witch swooped down on us like a hawk eyeing a super stylish mouse.
"Hogwarts, dear? First year, I presume? Oh, how delightful!" she chirped, her tape measure already floating around, looking kind of menacing, circling Daphne like a hungry snake.
As she started measuring Daphne, her voice was a non-stop chatter about fabric, uniform rules, and how important a perfectly ironed hem is. Great Sage immediately highlighted the subtle way Daphne was getting uncomfortable. She was being polite, but all that poking and endless talking was clearly annoying her fancy pure-blood self. An idea popped into my head, bright and mischievous. This was the perfect chance for 'Instant Object Manifestation'!
I subtly focused, thinking of the most boring, yet totally distracting, thing I could. Something that would break her flow but cause no real trouble. A small, perfectly round, slightly fuzzy dust bunny. You know, the kind that lives under really old furniture.
POP!
A tiny, almost silent sound, and there it was, sitting right in the middle of Madam Malkin's perfectly clean, shiny, expensive floor.
The sales witch froze mid-sentence, mid-measurement. Her eyes went wide, a look of pure horror on her face. "Oh, dear! A... a dust bunny! How utterly dreadful! Where on earth did that come from?"
She instantly ditched Daphne, her tape measure still floating randomly, and bent down, looking totally grossed out, to carefully sweep the offending fluff into a tiny, velvet bag she pulled out of nowhere. Daphne shot me a quick, almost invisible glance over the witch's bent back. Her lips twitched. A silent thank you.
"Well done," I thought, mentally patting myself on the back. 'Instant Object Manifestation' – mission accomplished for laughs and strategy. My brain was already figuring out all the cool ways I could use it.
Mum, meanwhile, was already guiding us toward Ollivanders, totally unaware of my subtle magic trick. She was probably still debating the virtues of dragon hide versus acromantula silk in her head.
As we walked, the alley remained a vibrant assault on the senses. Then, a sudden shift in the crowd's energy. A ripple of whispers, a few pointing fingers. My Great Sage skill immediately picked up on a huge spike in public interest, like everyone's focus suddenly jumped to one spot.
'Subject: Harry Potter.'
'Status: Unwilling Icon.'
'Probability of future world-saving endeavors: Undeniably High.'
'Recommend subtle long-term observation.'
--------------------------------------------
'Subject: Rubeus Hagrid.'
'Status: Half-Giant, Keeper of Keys and Grounds.'
'Probability of unintentional property damage and social faux pas: Also High.'
Thanks, System. Super helpful. And yeah, kind of judgmental, too.
Just then, Hagrid's huge hand gestured wildly, and his elbow accidentally swiped a display of shiny quills outside Scribbulus. They crashed onto the cobblestones with a loud clatter. The sudden noise got everyone's attention, including Mum, who stopped, her perfect posture stiffening for a second. Her cool, assessing eyes shot right to the commotion.
"Oh, man," Hagrid rumbled, bending down to pick up the fallen quills. His booming voice carried over the din. "Clumsy old me. Didn't see ya there, miss." He clearly didn't pick up on Mum's high-class disapproval.
Mum gave a tight, almost invisible smile, her head barely dipping. "Indeed. No harm done, I trust." Her gaze then shifted, with a tiny, subtle hint of distaste, towards the boy next to Hagrid. She definitely knew who Harry was, but making a big fuss over him in public? Nope, not her style.
I nudged Daphne.
"Harry Potter," I whispered, just loud enough for her.
Her head snapped toward me, eyes wide. A flicker of genuine surprise broke her calm face for a split second. She knew the name, of course. Every pure-blood family whispered it, often with a mix of awe, suspicion, and a tiny bit of annoyance. Her eyes, sharper and more analytical than Mum's, carefully sized up the messy-haired boy.
"The Boy Who Lived?" she whispered back, her voice low, a super thin edge of pure-blood disdain barely hidden. "Here? With him? And why does he look like he just wrestled a Niffler?"
"Also, how do you know that is him, Lucian?" Daphne asked, her voice quiet but sharp. She wasn't asking how I knew the name, but how I knew the person, without being officially introduced.
"Well…, Daph," I replied with a casual shrug. "Everyone's whispering his name, right? And that scar, it's pretty hard to miss"
I kept my voice light, but inside, my Great Sage was already running a diagnostic on her skepticism. To my defense, it wasn't lying; it was just... simplifying.
Daphne's brow furrowed, but she gave a slow, deliberate nod. She clearly wasn't entirely convinced but knew better than to press me further in public. Some things, my dear twin knew, were just Lucian being Lucian. And sometimes, Lucian just knew things.
"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, at yer service!" Hagrid cheerfully cut in, totally unaware he was messing up a fancy social moment. He grinned at Mum, then at us, his eyes twinkling. "And this here's Harry. Harry Potter."
Harry, looking even more overwhelmed by this sudden, formal meeting, managed a shy, quick wave. His emerald eyes, wide with a mix of awe and bewilderment, darted from Mum's elegant robes to Daphne's perfectly calm face, then landed on me, a little spark of curiosity. My Great Sage instantly picked up his inner chaos:
'Subject: Harry Potter.
Current emotional state: Overwhelmed, curious about new subjects, slightly intimidated by formal attire, contemplating appropriate social response.
Probability of social awkwardness: High.
Prediction: Subject will likely attempt minimal verbal communication.'
"A pleasure, Mr. Hagrid," Mum replied with a crisp, formal politeness that could practically cut glass. "And Mr. Potter, it's... certainly an encounter. I'm Lady Selene Greengrass, and these are my children, Daphne and Lucian. And our youngest, Astoria." She gently pushed Astoria forward, who quickly hid half her face behind Mr. Snuffles, totally sensing the awkwardness in the air.
Daphne stepped forward, her curtsy perfect, though her eyes held a sharp, analytical curiosity as she looked at Harry.
"A pleasure, Harry" she said, her voice soft, perfectly polite, but with a subtle tone that just screamed 'how utterly quaint.'
My turn. I gave a slight, formal nod, keeping my face neutral. "Harry. It's a pleasure too." My mind was spinning. This was the Harry Potter. The guy who'd fight Voldemort. The one who probably had no clue about half this stuff throughout his life, well most of it!!
"Hi, nice to meet you all." Harry said
"So... are you excited for Hogwarts?" Daphne asked, her curiosity overriding her usual reserve. She managed to make the question sound polite, even a little formal, but there was a genuine flicker in her eyes.
Harry blinked, clearly surprised by the direct question from someone other than Hagrid. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so. It's... a lot." He gestured vaguely at the bustling alley. "Are you going too?"
"We are," I chimed in, with my own nod. "My sister and I. Greengrass, naturally."
"Right. Greengrass," Harry repeated, a faint frown creasing his brow.
'Subject: Harry Potter.
Memory Search: Greengrass.
Results: None.
Deduction: Negative reaction likely due to unfamiliarity with formal pure-blood customs, or general discomfort with perceived authority figures (Dursley influence).'
"I hope it's not too... overwhelming," Daphne added, her tone carefully neutral, though I caught the slight tilt of her head that suggested she found his current state amusing.
"It's just... a lot to take in," Harry mumbled, shifting his weight. "All the magic. And everything."
"Oh, you'll get used to it," I said, a faint, knowing smile playing on my lips. "There's always more than meets the eye here. Trust me."
Harry looked at me, a flicker of something in his emerald eyes. Was it understanding? Confusion? Probably both.
Harry's gaze stayed on my scar-free forehead for a moment, a faint, lingering question in his eyes, then he gave another shy nod.
"Come now, Harry," Hagrid boomed, gently pulling him away. "We still need ter get yer wand!"
"Indeed," Mum chimed in, smoothly, already subtly moving our group to keep going. "We're just heading to Ollivanders ourselves. Perhaps we'll see you in there, Mr. Potter." That subtle emphasis on "Mr. Potter" wasn't lost on me. It was a polite, but clear dismissal.
Hagrid's huge body easily cut through the crowd like a ship through water, taking a still-bewildered Harry with him. Harry glanced back over his shoulder once, a faint, curious look on his face, before they disappeared into the throng.
"Well," Mum said, turning back to us, her composure completely back, though a faint line of displeasure showed between her brows. "That was certainly... an encounter. He seems like a rather... unpolished boy. And his companion... quite boisterous."
"Unpolished for now," I thought, a grin spreading across my face.
Suddenly, just as Harry turned to leave, my Great Sage skill suddenly pulsed, a sharp, insistent notification overriding all other data.
'Anomaly Detected: Residual Soul Fragment.'
'Identification: Extremely Dark, Sentient.'
*'Affiliation: Tom Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort).'
'Query: Would you like to acquire this entity as a Subordinate Program?'
I blinked. My jaw, if I hadn't been a refined Greengrass, would've dropped to the cobblestones. Voldemort? The Dark Lord? And the System was offering him up as a... subordinate program? Alright, this was just... wild.