The girl looked slightly sulky as she pulled her parents forcefully toward them. When they reached the building, she let go of their hands and pointed at the entrance.
"Look, it's right there! You still don't believe me."
A triumphant expression lit up her face. Actions spoke louder than words; finally, she could prove she wasn't lying!
However, what little Hermione didn't expect was her parents exchanging glances and saying helplessly,
"Hermione, look closely. That's a bookstore."
"A bookstore?" Hermione squinted. The shop was clearly next to the pub.
"No, I'm talking about the pub to the right of the bookstore," she quickly corrected.
"To the right of the bookstore is a record store… Oh, wait, is that the Queen Live Aid original recording?" her father muttered, taking a couple of steps forward to confirm.
Albert glanced over and, indeed, it was Queen's vinyl record. The two adults walked toward the record store window in unison. Albert suddenly thought of the phonograph Harry had repaired and wondered if it could be used here…
"Dad, it's right next to you—the Leaky Cauldron!" Hermione tugged her father's hand, pointing firmly at the pub's sign.
"Good girl. Stop messing around." Her father patted her fluffy head. "How about we take a look in the bookstore?"
Hermione felt deeply aggrieved. It was right there in front of them! Why were her parents pretending not to see it? Did they think she liked to lie? If it was a joke, it had gone too far!
"She's telling the truth."
A childish voice suddenly sounded beside her. A boy in loose clothing and a headscarf stood nearby.
"Little friend? What did you say?" the man asked, bewildered.
Albert shifted his gaze from the display cabinet to the couple, then surveyed the teary-eyed little girl beside them.
"That's right, your daughter isn't lying," Albert confirmed. He smiled reassuringly at Hermione.
"You didn't see wrong. There really is a pub next to us, sandwiched between the bookstore and the record store."
"I told you so!!" Hermione jumped happily, holding her dad's hand. Her face beamed with joy.
"Sir, please don't indulge my daughter's nonsense," her father frowned, slightly displeased. If it weren't for the boy's strange attire and unusual demeanor, he would have labeled him insane.
Albert waved his hand at her. "The only way to settle this is to have you lead them inside."
Harry stood to the side, watching Hermione. "I'll take you in. Once you're inside, everything will make sense."
He had read enough to understand the "Anti-Muggle Charms" that many locations in the Wizarding World had. "This pub has been enchanted; ordinary people can't see it."
"Enchanted?" her father muttered, confused, though the next moment, Hermione tugged him forward again. She was determined to prove herself.
Hermione was furious. She had to show her parents that she wasn't lying. Enchantments were irrelevant; right now, all that mattered was their belief.
Harry stepped forward and pushed open the wooden door, leading the way. The two adults were thus dragged toward the Leaky Cauldron.
As they neared the gap between the bookstore and the record store, the air seemed to distort. A dilapidated storefront appeared to rush toward them, enlarging rapidly before their eyes.
Creak—
Suddenly, the surrounding sounds ceased. It was as if they had broken through a thin membrane. The next moment, various rustling noises filled their ears.
When they opened their eyes, they found themselves in a dark, grimy space. The pub was crowded with shadowy figures, chattering quietly until the newcomers arrived. Then the noise died down.
"This is…" the man pulled his wife and child closer, glancing warily around.
"Don't be nervous. Welcome to the Wizarding World," Albert said from behind them, patting the man on the shoulder.
"Wizard?" the man asked, looking at Albert and then at Hermione.
Hermione's small hand trembled. The place felt dangerous, unfamiliar.
Harry crouched beside her. "Don't worry. It may look scary, but just follow through. The entrance is at the back."
"Entrance?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
"The entrance to Diagon Alley, a commercial street for Wizards," Harry explained. "You are a Wizard, just like me."
"Yes, I think your daughter is a Wizard. That's why she can see the Leaky Cauldron," Albert added.
Her father felt dizzy. Wizardry? It was too fantastical, yet the truth now stood before him. He gripped his wife's hand tightly to calm himself.
Albert looked at Harry. "Kid, we have to go." He led the way toward the back of the pub.
At the back courtyard, Albert pulled out his wand and began counting bricks. A voice called out behind him.
"Sir, please wait."
Albert turned to see Hermione and her parents approaching.
"I thought you would go back to Charing Cross Road," Albert said, surprised. "After all, the news shouldn't be easy to digest…"
Her father hurried forward, trying to compose himself. "It should have been like that… Sorry, I don't know what to say. But I want to ask some questions—about my child."
He extended his hand. "I'm Chris Granger. This is my wife, Martha, and our daughter, Hermione Granger."
Albert understood immediately. "I'm Albert Jones. And this is Peter," he said, nodding toward Harry.
Harry blinked. "I… uh, yes, I'm Peter." He didn't correct the name; it had appeared in several books, so it seemed safe. Still, he wondered if Albert had just made it up.
"Hello, I'm Hermione," the girl said politely, shaking Harry's hand. Her eyes caught the small wooden stick in Albert's hand.
"Is that a wand?" she asked curiously.
Albert lightly tapped the bricks twice. "Yes."
Suddenly, the wall bricks rotated, forming a cobblestone path. The bustling sounds of the street, the calls of owls, and the chatter of witches and wizards appeared before their eyes.
Harry's face lit up. "This is Diagon Alley!"
Hermione's parents exchanged astonished glances. The impossible was now real, and there was no denying it.
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