Chapter 8
"No, I said no! We raised the boy to be a normal human being, and he has no need for any magic!" Vernon's booming shouting greeted me the moment I stepped out of the cupboard... My uncle was clearly in a terrible mood, trying to loom like an enraged boar over an impassive woman in a rather eye-scratching robe and pointed hat.
"Unfortunately, it is not for you to decide where the boy will study. He was enrolled at Hogwarts from birth, and his education has already been paid for. Besides, by law, we simply do not have the right to leave Harry without a magical education. An untrained wizard is dangerous to ordinary people!" the elderly witch firmly and weightily defended her position.
"At least it's not Hagrid," I thought with slight relief, though I still was not entirely sure who exactly had come to see us.
"By law!? What laws are those, damn it? I have my own business, young lady, I know the law very well... And I have no intention of obeying the rules of your magical backwater!" Vernon kept pressing on, for some reason defending my right to study at a normal school a little too fiercely.
"The laws of the magical world were approved by the Queen herself, Mr. Dursley. For us, she remains the highest and only authority in the country," the witch frowned, seeming to embellish her claims a little... But those words worked perfectly on my uncle. Britain still had a certain reverence for the royal family and the Crown.
"Well, that..." Vernon faltered the moment the witch mentioned the Queen's authority over the situation and the laws of the magical world.
"You may not know this, Mr. Dursley, but the magical and ordinary worlds exist side by side. And in many ways, our laws are similar. Children in both must receive an education. It is simply that for wizards, the education is their own and bears little resemblance to what can be obtained at an ordinary school," she continued, pressing the advantage as soon as she sensed weakness... It had to be Minerva McGonagall.
"Good morning... You're from Hogwarts?" Still half-blinking and struggling to gather myself after a far from peaceful awakening, I decided to step into the conversation.
"That is correct, Mr. Potter," the older woman switched her attention to me at once, while my guardians were still sluggishly processing my calm and overly informed reaction. "I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of one of the Houses, and Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Mm, you have a lot of titles," I nodded, calmly looking the witch over. Once I knew who she was, all my anxiety finally vanished, replaced by a kind of pleased calm. I did not know how it happened, but the Deputy Headmistress was far preferable to a terrifying half-giant groundskeeper.
"Is... that all you have to say to me, Mr. Potter?" the woman actually looked taken aback, and in her emotions she was starting to remind me of Vernon and Petunia, both of whom had gone strangely silent. Petunia had not uttered a word since dragging me out of the cupboard. She seemed stunned by how calmly I was taking all this.
"Well, I've always known about my magical abilities. And I already read the letter... So it's not as if I have no questions left, but I do understand what's happening. And I'm glad the letter didn't turn out to be some stupid prank," I gave a small smile, finding no particular urge to start jumping around the house with joy. I was too sleepy, and the drowsiness was making it hard to react too vividly. Though inside, my nerves were already beginning to tingle with rising excitement.
"Magic and Hogwarts are not some joke to you, Harry Potter... And do start getting ready to leave soon. We have a great many things to do today," the witch frowned sternly, clearly hinting at my rather unacceptable appearance. Fair enough, going shopping in pajamas was not the best idea. "And I, meanwhile, shall finish my conversation with your relatives."
"Right, I'll go wash up... and steal myself a couple of sandwiches for breakfast," I yawned lazily, catching sight of Dudley peeking at everything from upstairs. From the second floor, the boy had a perfect view of a real witch...
And the whole scene was driving him nearly wild. Dudley was burning with the most contradictory emotions. My cousin was being tossed between fear and sheer delight, which was why I practically had to run to the bathroom... just so I would not get grabbed by him right away. Let him bombard me with questions and excitement after I had already gone to the magical world.
Right now, even without Dudley, I was not in the best state. Even meeting a character I knew from the films had not fully woken me up... Though cold tap water helped a lot, as did the urge to do a little magic first thing in the morning. That last part was especially stirring, because the moment I started thinking about spellwork, the full realization of what was happening finally hit me.
It hit so hard that I practically bounded out of the bathroom, hurriedly changing clothes, swallowing a couple of sandwiches on the move, and then rushing back to relatives who at least seemed a little calmer... I had no idea how or why, since unfortunately I had not been able to hear anything from the bathroom, but Minerva had somehow managed to settle Vernon and Petunia down. They were still grumbling, but they were no longer trying to physically keep me in the house.
"You handled that well... It's usually not so easy to calm my aunt and uncle, especially when it comes to... unusual things," I looked at McGonagall with interest once we had left the house of my not especially beloved relatives. "Was that some kind of magic? The kind that lets you rummage around freely in people's heads?"
"What? Certainly not! Legilimency is hardly such a common art that one uses it carelessly over trifles," the witch said sharply.
"So that's what it's called... I'll have to look into that later," I nodded to myself, already wondering whether I might be able to buy something on local mental magic today. "Ahem, but if it wasn't magic, then how did you calm my relatives down?"
"That is called diplomacy and experience, Mr. Potter," the strict Hogwarts professor did not let my earlier remark pass unnoticed. "I quite often have to deal with anxious parents of my students... In your case, it was comparatively easy. The Dursleys at least know of magic and its existence."
"I see... I didn't expect it to be something so ordinary," I smiled, finding the answer amusing and yet perfectly plausible. "I thought wizards preferred to solve their problems exclusively by magical means."
"Magic alone is certainly not enough for every situation, Mr. Potter," McGonagall gave me a thin smile, and immediately launched into what sounded like a lecture she had delivered countless times about magic and the magical world... I could not say it was especially useful, since Krusho Zhelov had told me far more over the course of our acquaintance. But that did not stop me from wearing an interested expression, and I had no hesitation about asking a few leading and clarifying questions of my own.
Especially since, in addition to her lecture on magic and the magical world, the witch also showed me something in practice, summoning a blasted magical bus with a wave of her wand... It carried us straight to a rather shabby-looking pub somewhere in central London. Quite the ride. The jolts and swaying of the Knight Bus gave my sense of balance a real beating. But it was fast and took us straight where we needed to go.
"Hnh," I let out a thoughtful, slightly surprised sound, focusing on my ability to sense the magic around me and almost choking on how complex, heavy, and even frightening the enchantments wrapped around the outwardly unremarkable pub were. "This is more or less how I imagined the entrance to the magical world..."
"Really? Young witches and wizards raised among Muggles usually find it quite difficult to believe that this is the main entrance to Diagon Alley. And for the record, Diagon Alley is the main magical shopping street in Britain. Nearly every civilized country has its own equivalent. In France, for example..." Minerva continued her lecture concisely, once again proving that for her, this kind of work was perfectly routine and natural.
And in the Leaky Cauldron, no one seemed surprised by the appearance of the Deputy Headmistress of the country's main school. Only Tom the barman gave the witch a brief nod, introducing himself in an almost ceremonial manner and welcoming me to the magical world. An amusing little man...
"Watch carefully, Mr. Potter," McGonagall drew my attention, not quite whispering, but not raising her voice either, so that no one would accidentally hear my surname. "This wall is the entrance to the magical world. If in future you decide to visit this place on your own, you should know the proper sequence for opening the passage... Tom usually helps young witches and wizards through, of course, but it would be better if you remembered it yourself."
"I'll try," I nodded quickly, realizing that some response was expected of me, and truly focused all my attention on what was happening. And what was happening was... simple tapping with a wand against a brick wall. At least, that was how it looked with ordinary sight.
My magical sense told me that something far more complex and remarkable was taking place... Though of course I did not perceive all of it. I only understood that drops of magic from someone else's wand had somehow activated... an invisible pattern in the wall? I was not entirely sure how I was even supposed to perceive this kind of magic, but if necessary, I would be able to repeat the trick. Provided, of course, that I could reach some of the higher bricks...
"Ahem... This street really does knock you off balance. It feels as though I've been thrown backward in time again. This time to somewhere around the fifteenth to eighteenth century. I'm not exactly an expert in the details of the Middle Ages or the market streets of that era," I took in Diagon Alley with a hint of delight, while Minerva practically dragged me inside, having realized I had gone a little blank from trying to memorize and understand the method of entering the magical world.
And yes, it really did seem that Diagon Alley was in another world. The air here was different. Even the sunlight seemed to fall at a slightly different angle...
"Do not stand there like a post, Mr. Potter. We do not have much time for shopping... And we still need to visit the bank and introduce you to the goblins," the Transfiguration professor called out sternly, noticing that I was still somewhat dazed.
"Yes... I'm all right now. Just a little surprised," I shook my head from side to side, trying to settle the racing thoughts in my mind. "And why do we need to go to the bank? Are they supposed to give me a loan for school?"
"No, in your case it is much simpler than that... And you have not even reached minor magical adulthood, so no one would grant you a loan in any case. The Ministry of Magic pays for the education of Muggle-born wizards and orphans of the magical world. The first five years, to be precise," McGonagall explained, taking me by the hand.
"And the other two years?" I asked, already knowing from her own words that Hogwarts had seven years.
"They are considered optional and quite difficult even for Hogwarts students... But if a young wizard shows a certain degree of talent, the Ministry or some magical guild will sometimes grant funds for that wizard's education. In return, after school, that wizard is expected to work for several years for the organization that paid for it," came the concise and thorough answer.
"I see... And in my case?" I tilted my head, trying to keep pace with the surprisingly springy, hurried steps of the witch.
"In your case, your parents already took care of paying for your education. And as far as I know, they also left you more than enough money to live on... It is for part of your inheritance that we are now going. It is kept in Gringotts under the careful supervision of goblins, special magical beings who have served as bankers to wizards for the last several centuries," McGonagall explained with the faintest tension, apparently expecting me to start bombarding her with questions about my parents.
But I disappointed her expectations, deciding first to clarify a few details about my inheritance... And then it stopped mattering anyway. We entered the bank, and for the first time I saw the ugly little creatures that no amount of drunkenness could ever make anyone mistake for a human being. Their appearance was that alien and repulsive to the human eye...