A Certain Magical Hogwarts

"Hagrid, how did you get here?"

William chatted with Hagrid the whole way, noticing that the big guy seemed a bit anxious.

Not only was Hagrid worried about the safety of Muggle cars, but he also seemed a little carsick.

"I came using Floo powder, and it was from Professor Dumbledore's office fireplace!"

There was a hint of pride in Hagrid's voice, as if using something from Dumbledore was an amazing feat.

"What's Floo powder?" Roy asked, now more interested in wizard transportation than the headmaster himself, after learning that Dumbledore was just an old man.

"Oh, I forgot Muggles don't have Floo powder," Hagrid apologized. "Floo powder is a glittering powder. You just grab a pinch, clearly say the destination, and sprinkle it into the fire, and it'll take you directly there. It's really convenient."

William stroked Boba Tea's tail and nodded thoughtfully.

It sounded like some form of instant teleportation, which was indeed convenient. But wait… what was that look Hagrid just gave him?

William was pretty sure he saw something in Hagrid's big eyes—a pity for Muggles living in "such hardship."

No magic.

No Floo powder.

Can't even go to Hogwarts.

How could they not be pitiful?

Absolutely pathetic!

"Are there other means of transportation besides Floo powder?" William asked.

"There are plenty: Portkeys, Apparition, the Knight Bus…"

Hagrid seemed to remember something unpleasant. He stared seriously at William and warned, "Remember, never take the Knight Bus. I threw up all the way last time, nearly died in there.

"By Merlin's beard, the Ministry of Magic should really ban that thing…"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a filthy, stained handkerchief to cover his mouth. He waved his left hand, signaling William to find another topic to distract him.

"Hagrid, you mentioned that Professor Robert died. Do we have a new professor then?" William handed him some olives and opened the car window.

Olives could slightly alleviate nausea, which should help Hagrid feel better.

Hagrid took the olives and answered, "That position's hard to fill. No one's willing to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts anymore."

"Poor Professor Robert…" Hagrid turned the dirty handkerchief over and blew his nose loudly, the sound like a trumpet call.

"I knew Professor Robert liked to drink, but I didn't expect him to be drinking even in the Forbidden Forest.

"I got up early, grabbed a basket of beans, and went to visit Aragog in the forest, only to hear a Hufflepuff student say Professor Robert was missing. We searched and found part of his wizard robe hanging on a thorn bush in the Forbidden Forest.

"Professor Flitwick said, 'Oh no, he must've been attacked by a magical creature.'

"Sure enough, we found Professor Robert lying in Devil's Snare, his belly torn open by a Graphorn, still clutching an empty bottle of firewhisky…"

Hagrid wiped his nose, looking extremely upset.

"Hagrid, what's Devil's Snare?" William asked.

Hagrid shuddered, as if recalling the scene of Robert's death. "Devil's Snare is a highly dangerous vine. Once it matures, its tendrils can ensnare anyone who gets too close, injuring them."

Hagrid grumbled, "If you ask me, all those dangerous plants should be destroyed. They're a threat to the fragile magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest.

"I have no idea why Professor Sprout insists on collecting Devil's Snare. What a weird hobby…"

William squinted, carefully noting down all this magical world knowledge Hagrid was sharing.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. In Hagrid's world, it seemed all magical creatures were fragile, cute, friendly, and innocent…

For example, the Acromantula Hagrid had just mentioned—Aragog. According to him, it sounded a hundred times cuter than Boba Tea.

Hagrid even invited William to come pet Aragog's leg hair with him sometime.

My goodness, could magical creatures really be this adorable?

William suddenly felt a strange longing to explore the Forbidden Forest.

…

The car ride lasted about half an hour before they reached their destination.

"This is it," Hagrid said excitedly, finally free from the car. He stood up with a grin, only to hear a loud bang as his head slammed into the roof of the car.

Rubbing his head, Hagrid didn't seem too hurt, but the roof now had a noticeable dent.

Roy stared blankly at it for a moment before perking up with excitement—finally, a good excuse to talk to Liana about buying a new car!

"Oh, sorry about that. I'll fix it," Hagrid said.

"No worries," Roy waved generously, pretending it was no big deal.

"Reparo," Hagrid muttered, pulling out his little pink umbrella and tapping the roof lightly. The dent instantly vanished.

"…" Roy realized something terrifying: once William learned magic, he might be stuck with this car for life!

After getting out of the car, Hagrid led them to a busy street packed with people.

There were bookstores, record shops, burger joints, and cinemas along the road—nothing out of the ordinary. But there was no sign of the Leaky Cauldron that Hagrid had mentioned.

Wait…

William finally spotted a sign in an unremarkable corner—it was a shabby one, painted with a black cauldron and marked with the words "The Leaky Cauldron" in glowing ink.

Hagrid smiled and said, "This is it—the Leaky Cauldron. It's a very famous place, the oldest pub in London, much older than any Muggle pub."

There was pride in Hagrid's voice, but Roy looked confused. He couldn't see anything at all.

"Ah, you can't see it. To prevent being noticed by Muggles, there are a lot of Confundus Charms cast here. Helping Muggle families get into Diagon Alley is part of my job," Hagrid explained.

According to him, Hogwarts also had Muggle-repelling charms and Confundus Charms around it, making it impossible for Muggles to enter without a wizard's guidance.

Despite Hagrid's pride in the Leaky Cauldron, they soon discovered it was a dirty, cramped little pub.

It certainly didn't live up to its grand image hagrid had helped them imagine.

William glanced around at the outdated, filthy infrastructure with disdain. It was not only old but also chaotic and dirty.

What a waste. This place had the best location and heavy foot traffic.

If William were the owner, he'd at least renovate it several levels up, turning it into the magical world's first integrated venue offering gourmet food, board games, baths, massages, and karaoke—a one-stop entertainment hub.

Forget calling it a pub. He'd rename it the "Leaky Cauldron Club"!

Renovation plans, marketing strategies, promotional campaigns, celebrity endorsements… William already had a rough blueprint in mind. The only thing he was missing was… money!

He felt his pockets and found only a few measly pence… So poor. How much money could you expect for a parent give to an eleven-year-old kid?

William couldn't help but reminisce about his lost lottery ticket.

He, too, wanted to experience that simple, yet luxurious life of the rich!