Harry Potter: Elemental Magic Changes the World

"Harry, it's a magical world—at least, that's what your parents believed," said Hagrid, his voice gruff but kind.

"From now on, you're going to be a wizard."

"Of course, before officially becoming one, there are a few things you'll need to prepare."

"Every student attending school must bring the essentials…"

"For example, a standard-sized No. 2 cauldron."

"If you'd like, you can also bring an owl. They're loyal and can help deliver letters."

"Or, if you prefer, you can bring a cat or a toad. Between the two, I'd suggest a cat—much cuter than a toad, don't you think?"

"But I'm not a fan of cats; I'm allergic," Hagrid added with a laugh.

The bustling streets were filled with people, as a towering figure and a small boy walked through the crowd.

The boy, wearing glasses and with a charmingly youthful face, was none other than Harry Potter.

Beside him was a scruffy, bearded giant of a man named Rubeus Hagrid. His oversized coat made him look like a homeless man wandering the streets of London.

Hagrid had found Harry and taken him from his aunt and uncle's house. Along the way, Hagrid spoke endlessly about magic, much like a chattering crow, his words seemingly never-ending.

Harry, eager to escape the oppressive environment of his relatives' home, listened intently, his curiosity about magic growing by the minute.

"Hagrid, can we find what you're talking about in London?" Harry asked, his excitement bubbling over.

"Of course we can!" Hagrid bent down slightly, his exaggerated smile reassuring Harry. "Let's keep going and see for ourselves."

Harry's anticipation grew as he followed Hagrid. Before long, they arrived at the entrance of a small pub.

The Leaky Cauldron.

"Hagrid, I'm underage—I can't drink," Harry said hesitantly, staring at the pub's door.

Hagrid laughed heartily, patting Harry's shoulder. "You're right—you're too young to drink. But I'm not, and I can."

With that, Hagrid pushed open the black door and stepped inside.

The Leaky Cauldron, a tiny and somewhat dilapidated inn and pub, was tucked between a large bookstore and a record shop on Charing Cross Road.

While not technically part of Diagon Alley, it served as a bridge between the Muggle world and the wizarding one.

As Harry followed Hagrid into the dimly lit pub, he saw witches and wizards chatting and drinking. Uncertain and slightly overwhelmed, Harry stood by the door.

These people are all wizards, he realized.

Hagrid, however, seemed perfectly at home and was immediately greeted.

"Oi, Hagrid! The usual?" called Tom, the bald, middle-aged bartender.

"Not today, Tom, thanks!" Hagrid replied, his booming laugh filling the room. "I'm on Hogwarts business!"

He gestured to Harry, who was still hovering uncertainly. "This is Harry. I need to help him pick up his school supplies."

At Hagrid's words, the pub fell silent.

"My goodness… He's Harry Potter?" Tom was the first to react, his voice tinged with shock.

Whispers spread through the room like wildfire. Wizards and witches turned their attention to Harry, some murmuring in awe, while others approached him with warm smiles and outstretched hands.

"Welcome back!" one of them said, shaking Harry's hand enthusiastically.

Others expressed their excitement, their eyes shining as they looked at him.

Harry, meanwhile, was utterly bewildered.

Welcome back? What does that mean?

Why are they so enthusiastic?

Do I know these people?

The pub's door creaked open, drawing everyone's attention.

A young man walked in, his strikingly handsome features and aristocratic air commanding the room.

"Oh, my goodness! What a dashing gentleman!" murmured a witch named Kotori, her face flushing as she hurried over to greet him.

"Good evening, sir. I'm Kotori," she said, her voice sweet and slightly shy.

The young man, Callister, removed his purple top hat with a graceful motion, bowing slightly in perfect gentlemanly etiquette. "Good evening, Lady Kotori."

Kotori blushed even harder, her hands clasped together as if to steady herself. The charm of his deep, magnetic voice and polished demeanor left her utterly smitten.

Callister offered a polite smile before turning to the rest of the room, nodding in acknowledgment. Then, he placed his hat back on his head and made his way to Harry.

"Harry Potter," he said warmly, extending a hand. "The lightning scar… The Boy Who Lived. You must be him. I'm Callister. A pleasure to meet you."

Harry, startled to hear his name, hesitated briefly before shaking Callister's hand with a smile. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Callister."

"You're brave and clever," Callister said with a nod, his kind words putting Harry at ease.

"Thank you. You're… incredibly cool. I think you might just be my new idol," Harry admitted, his voice full of admiration.

Hagrid observed Callister, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. Where have I heard that name before?

"Harry Potter!" A timid, scarf-clad man stepped forward, nervously clasping his hands. His excitement was palpable as he stammered, "I-it's such an honor to meet you!"

"Ah, Professor Quirrell!" Hagrid exclaimed, surprised. "Didn't see you there earlier. You've certainly caught me off guard!"

Turning to Harry, he added, "Harry, this is Professor Quirrell. He'll be teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

"It's an honor, Professor Quirrell," Harry said, extending his hand with a polite smile.

Callister, watching the interaction, smirked slightly. The gleam in his eye suggested he knew more about Quirrell than he was letting on.

After all, if he wasn't mistaken, the position Dumbledore had hired him for seemed destined to clash with Professor Quirrell's domain.