Shopping

"Let's go, let's get to Gringotts and exchange some money. 

I can tell you're excited to see what you've got," Professor McGonagall said with a knowing smile. 

She had noticed how much Alex seemed to have, and it amused her.

As they walked, Professor McGonagall gave him a brief introduction. 

"Gringotts is the only wizarding bank in the UK. 

It's run by goblins and is known as the second safest place in the world, after Hogwarts."

Alex followed as she led him through the streets of Diagon Alley. 

The street soon split into two: one path leading to Knockturn Alley, a darker, more sinister part of the magical world, while the other continued along the main road. 

At the intersection stood Gringotts, a gleaming white building with a goblin guard standing proudly at the entrance, dressed in a striking scarlet and gold uniform.

As they entered, they passed through a set of large bronze doors. 

The goblin guards bowed respectfully, and Alex couldn't help but feel a little out of place. 

They passed through a second set of silver doors and stepped into a grand marble hall. 

The room was bustling with activity; goblins sat behind long counters, scribbling in enormous ledgers, weighing stacks of coins, and examining sparkling gemstones with tiny eyepieces. 

Despite the chaos in the world outside, the goblins seemed completely unbothered, calmly going about their business.

McGonagall led Alex to one of the counters. 

He presented his Hogwarts admission letter, and after a brief conversation, he received a bursary of 12 gold Galleons meant to help less wealthy students.

Alex had planned to exchange his pounds anyway, so he took the bursary and exchanged an additional 100 Galleons with his British pounds. 

For an eleven-year-old, it was an enormous sum, and his leather pouch now felt satisfyingly heavy with the weight of gold.

As they stepped outside, Alex curiously examined one of the Galleons in his hand. 

"It looks like pure gold, but it feels a little different." 

"That's because goblins made them," Professor McGonagall explained. 

"They use special goblin crafting techniques and enchantments, making sure no one can forge them outside the bank."

She glanced at Alex's gold-filled pouch and smiled. 

"I imagine you're eager to get your own wand now.

In the wizarding world, you can't do much without one."

Alex nodded as they made their way to Ollivander's, the famous wand shop with a long, ancient history. 

The shop was small and a bit shabby, but it had an air of mystery about it. 

In the front window, a single wand lay on a faded purple cushion, and inside, towering shelves were crammed with narrow, dusty boxes stacked to the ceiling. 

Behind the counter stood a thin old man polishing a wand with great care. His pale eyes flicked up as they entered.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander. 

We're here to buy a wand," Professor McGonagall greeted him warmly.

"Ah, Minerva," Ollivander said in a soft, raspy voice.

"Nine and one-half inches, cold wood. I remember it well." 

He looked at Alex, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Ah, a new student! 

Ready for your first wand?"

 "Hello, sir. My name is Alex Wilson."

Ollivander gave a small smile. 

"Ah, polite young man—rare these days." 

He pulled a long silver measuring tape from his pocket. 

"Let's see which wand is right for you.

Which hand do you use?" 

"My right hand," Alex replied.

Ollivander measured him from shoulder to fingertip, wrist to elbow, and even around his head. 

He hummed thoughtfully as he felt Alex's arm.

"Quite strong for your age. Impressive!"

Alex tensed slightly, feeling a little uneasy at the old man's touch. 

'Isn't he just supposed to measure me? 

Why's he feeling my muscles?' 

Ollivander quickly retrieved a wand from the shelf.

"Try this one—ash, phoenix feather core, eleven and a half inches, Quite sturdy."

Alex took the wand and gave it a gentle wave. 

The tip sparked into a small flame.

"Hmm, no, that's not quite right," Ollivander muttered, taking the wand back and handing him another. 

"Elm, dragon heartstring core, nine and three-quarters inches. Wisdom and grace."

The moment Alex touched it, Ollivander snatched it back. 

"No, not this one either."

After trying a few more, Ollivander pulled another box from the shelf, his eyes glinting with interest.

"Now, try this. Ebony, with a core of Ptarmigan feathers, twelve and a quarter inches. 

Firm, unshakable. 

A wand for someone with great determination."

As soon as Alex grasped the wand, he felt a strange connection, as if it were an extension of his arm. 

The dark wood gleamed in his hand, and the tip flickered with a faint electric light.

Ollivander's face lit up. 

"Ah, there it is. A perfect match. 

It's always satisfying when a wand finds its true owner."

Alex couldn't help but smile as he gently waved the wand again. 

The connection felt natural as if the wand was meant for him. 

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I really like it."

"Ebony is excellent for combat magic and transfiguration.

This wand will serve you well.

Remember, your first wand is priced at seven Galleons, and the rest is covered by Hogwarts. 

Be careful with it—wands are irreplaceable once bonded."

Alex paid the gold, thanked Ollivander once more, and left the shop with Professor McGonagall by his side. 

His heart raced with excitement as they walked down Diagon Alley. 

He finally had his own wand, and the magical world felt a little more real with it in his hand.

"Okay, Alex, we've spent quite a bit of time picking out the wand. 

We need to hurry and get the rest of your school supplies," Professor McGonagall said, glancing at the sky as it started to shift toward the evening.

"Got it, Professor," Alex replied, eager to continue.

Accompanied by Professor McGonagall, they made their way to various shops across Diagon Alley. 

At the Transforming Ink Stationery Store, Alex bought parchment, ink, and a few quills. 

Afterward, they visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where he was fitted for his Hogwarts uniform. 

They moved on to the Potage Cauldron Shop to purchase a standard pewter cauldron and then picked up a full set of textbooks at Blossom Bookstore.

Alex also visited the Magical Menagerie, where he bought an owl—an excitable creature with bright eyes—and pet supplies to take care of it. 

He felt oddly happy with the owl, sensing it would be a good companion.

By the time they finished shopping, the sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the street.