Time flew on, and before too long Alexandra found herself being driven through the streets of London by her disgruntled uncle. The man was holding onto the steering wheel tightly, his face still coloured a pale purple, the wheel creaking slightly in his hands. Alexandra paid very little attention to her uncle as she looked out the window, seeing book shops, music stores, cinemas, bars, and schools slide by before her eyes, but nowhere in sight was a shop which was magical in nature. Just ordinary streets full of ordinary people. Could there really be hundreds of wizards near them? Were there really shops that sold wands, cauldrons and broomsticks?
If the Dursleys had had a sense of humour, which they definitely did not, she might have thought all of this was just one big awful joke. As it was, even if the news she received yesterday were unbelievable, she couldn't help but believe it. A chance to escape Little Whinging and her 'family' for good? She was almost giddy with the possibilities.
Hogwarts. She wondered what her new school looked like, what she would learn there. She also wanted to know who had had the idea to name a school that. Hogwarts, frankly, was a ridiculous name. She also wondered if she was behind in the magical curriculum as she had had no contact with this new world before this week.
She had only started using magic consciously at the age of eight when she had used it to destroy the cupboard under the stairs beyond repair. (Vernon had not dared to hire a firm to repair it for fear someone called the authorities.) She supposed she would be at a disadvantage against children who knew that magic was the real deal and not an "abnormality" to be punished at all costs. She would need a lot of time and training, she was sure, to compensate for this. While she was lost in her thoughts, the car progressively decreased its speed and then slowed to a stop. The somewhat grunt of her uncle's "Get out!" was the confirmation she had. Indeed, they had arrived.
Alexandra nodded slowly to acknowledge her uncle's groan, then unstrapped her seat belt, opened the car door, and stepped out. "Thank you, Uncle Vernon", she said politely, in case she needed the assistance of her uncle one more time. Not likely, but not impossible. Her uncle emitted something between a groan and a grunt again, and the moment she had closed the door he raced away at full speed, no doubt in a hurry to put the maximum of distance between him and the 'freaks'.
She took a moment to observe her surroundings in the street she was standing. While she had imagined the entrance of Diagon Alley as a bright and shining place where magic ruled supreme, the reality appeared really disappointing. The street was as normal as the dozens she had passed in her uncle's car to come here and the dozens she frequented near the Dursleys house. As for the Leaky Cauldron, far from a palace or a monument the size of a supermarket, it appeared to be a tiny, dirty pub looking from the outside, which seemed to have seen better days. The other persons down the street didn't even glance at it. It's like they didn't even see it. Which was probably the case, she mused.
Before entering the Leaky Cauldron, she took a moment in a backside alley to change the colour of her hair and her eyes from their black and bright green to a brown and blue. She might be paranoid, but she didn't know anything at all about the magical world and the place her parents lived in it. A bit of prudence was suggestable, and she could always change back to her real appearance if she needed it.
Entering the pub, Alexandra noted that for an entrance to the wizarding world, it was not a very clean or engaging place. Instead, it looked dark, filthy, and almost deserted. Perhaps it was the fact it was early for a Monday, but it looked like there was no more than half a dozen patrons, all of them having a shabby and shady look. Old men and old women were all drinking tiny glasses of unknown beverages and half of them smoking pipes. As the instructions of her aunt somewhat stopped there, she approached the bald man standing at the bar who likely was the owner. She noticed the small noise of conversations had died down as she entered the pub.
"Excuse me, Sir?" she said in her best engaging voice.
"Hogwarts, miss?" said the old man, opening a mouth which had lost quite a few teeth.
"Yes, Sir. I need to go shopping to Diagon Alley and..."
"Not a problem, my dear." said the bartender. "You're not the first to ask and you won't be the last. But, but please, don't call me Sir. I'm Tom, owner of the Leaky Cauldron. You don't have your parents with you?"
Before she had the time to formulate an excuse she heard a client speaking behind her in a loud and drunken voice "Another Muggle-born to enter our world! What a disgrace!" The man abruptly stopped when Tom threw him a threatening glare.
The issue of parents apparently forgotten due to the interruption of the rude wizard who vaguely looked like a mummy, Tom then led her through the bar to a small courtyard where there was nothing but a few weeds.
With a move that seemed to be almost automatic, the old man got out his wand from his robe and tapped a brick of the wall three times with the point.
"Stand back, miss." He whispered.
The brick he had touched quivered – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider and wider – a second later they were facing an archway large enough for up to three people to pass through together. It was an entrance onto a crowded street which appeared to be very long and weirdly tortuous.
"Welcome," said Tom, "to Diagon Alley."