Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 10 Leaky Cauldron
"Kids, wake up! We have a lot to buy today!" Hagrid's gruff roar echoed from beside the first-floor closet, passing through the thick double-layered floorboards to reach Tyella and Harry's ears.

Harry sat up groggily, perhaps because of the excitement of stepping into the magical world, or perhaps because of the joy of gaining such a good friend as Tyella. Harry had tossed and turned until two or three in the morning last night.

Therefore, when he was awakened by Hagrid's extremely penetrating voice, he still felt a little unreal.

It was as if everything that happened yesterday was a dream. In the dream, his parents were no longer failures who had accomplished nothing, but heroes in the magical world fighting against evil forces. His parents' friends appeared on his eleventh birthday, not only bringing him the first sweet birthday cake of his life, but also taking him away from the Dursleys and making him the first friend of his life.

God, if this is a dream, please don't let me wake up.

Harry prayed silently and opened his eyes.

The morning sunlight streamed in through the skylight of the attic, where a boy with black hair and black eyes sat at an old wooden table, writing and drawing.

Seemingly noticing Harry's gaze, Tyella looked up from the pile of mathematical formulas on the table.

"You're up?" Tierra smiled at Harry, revealing two sharp little fangs, reminding Harry of the little fox he'd seen at the zoo on Dudley's birthday, which had also smiled at him with a mischievous yet adorable smile.

"Hurry up and get dressed and wash up," Tierra said. "We're going to Diagon Alley today!"

It wasn't until Tyrell tossed the clothes to Harry that he realized the clothes in his hands weren't the tattered and dusty outfit he'd arrived in, but a clean set of clothes he'd never seen before.

“I got up early today and had nothing to do, so I washed your clothes for you,” Tiera said with a smile. “Your clothes aren’t dry yet, so wear mine for now.”

Tierra and Harry were both eleven years old. Because they worked in a Chinese restaurant, Tierra had no worries about food and drink compared to Harry. Moreover, under the special care of the proprietress, Tierra was even a little over-nourished. Therefore, Tierra was not only half a head taller than Harry, but also a little stronger. Harry could wear his clothes without any problem.

Harry squeezed the clean clothes of Tyella in his hand, which still smelled slightly of soap, and quickly put them on his head.

Today is a big day for Harry.

If he had a choice, he wouldn't want to walk into the magical world wearing a set of ripped clothes.

Harry and Tyella, now dressed, were led by Hagrid to the Leaky Cauldron.

It was a dirty, cramped bar sandwiched between a huge bookstore and a record store on the other side, just two blocks from Tierra's loft. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, no one would have noticed such a run-down little bar.

In fact, Tierra had passed by this bar many times, as he had to go through this street every day on his way back to his attic in the old town from the Chinese restaurant where he worked.

Every time she passed by, Tierra only noticed the bookstores and record stores on both sides, never noticing the Leaky Cauldron between the two buildings.

“It’s hard for the average person to notice,” Hagrid winked at Tierra. “Unless someone is with them, a young wizard or Muggle who’s here for the first time won’t see the Leaky Cauldron, let alone get inside.”

Before Harry and Tyrell could even speak, Hagrid pushed them into the Leaky Cauldron.

As a place that was famous both in the wizarding world and in Tiera's past life, this place was really too dark and dirty, much dirtier than it was shown in the movies. Tiera thought that any third-rate restaurant in a third-tier city in China was cleaner than this.

Inside the Leaky Cauldron, several elderly women sat in a corner drinking sherry from small glasses, one of them smoking a long pipe. A small man in a top hat was chatting with the bar owner, who was almost bald and looked like a shriveled walnut.

As soon as they entered, the chatter abruptly stopped. It was as if everyone here knew Hagrid; they smiled at him, waved, and whistled.

"The usual, Hagrid?" A hunchbacked man sitting behind the counter looked at Hagrid as he wiped a glass.

“Oh, no, Tom, I’d love to have a drink, but I’m on business at Hogwarts right now.” Hagrid patted the bartender on the shoulder with his enormous hand, almost knocking him over.

“You know, I never drink when I’m on a business trip, which is why Dumbledore trusts me,” Hagrid said proudly.

“My goodness,” the pub owner exclaimed, turning his attention to the two boys following Hagrid after Hagrid’s refusal. When he saw Harry’s almost emerald green eyes and the lightning bolt-shaped scar hidden in his disheveled hair, he shrieked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “Oh, Merlin, this is—this could be—”

The Leaky Cauldron fell silent. "Oh dear!" the bar owner seemed to realize his blunder and quickly whispered, "Harry Potter, oh Merlin's mustache, it's Harry Potter—it's an honor."

The bar owner rushed out from behind the bar, ran to Harry, grabbed his hand, and burst into tears.

“Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back.” Harry didn’t know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman smoking her long pipe kept puffing and didn’t even notice that her pipe had gone out.

Hagrid started chuckling, and the sound of chairs falling over echoed. All the wizards in the pub rushed over, young and old, men and women, all sorts of strange people surrounded Harry. If Tyrell hadn't been holding onto Hagrid's coat sleeve, he probably would have been pushed to the side by now.

Harry had never seen anything like it before. When he came to his senses that day, he suddenly found himself shaking hands with everyone at the Leaky Cauldron.

“I am Cordory, Mr. Potter. I can’t believe it, I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

"It's an honor, Mr. Potter, it's an honor."

"I've been looking forward to shaking your hand for so long—my heart is pounding."

“I’m so happy, Mr. Potter, I can’t even express how I feel. My name is Dee.”

“I’ve seen you before,” Harry shouted as Digg’s hat fell off in his excitement. “You bowed to me once in a shop.”

"He actually remembers!" Digg shouted excitedly to everyone present. "Did you hear that?! He, Harry Potter, he remembers me!"

So Harry shook hands with her again and again.

Cordoba, the first wizard to shake hands with Harry, always came over and asked to shake his hand again.

A pale-faced young man walked over, looking very nervous, with one of his eyes twitching.

“Professor Quirrell.” Hagrid nodded slightly as a greeting.

"Harry, Tyrell, let me introduce you. This is Professor Quirrell, your teacher."

“Po...Po...Potter,” Professor Quirrell stammered, grabbing Harry’s hand, “I’m so happy to see you, so happy that I can’t put it into words.”

Tyella stood next to Hagrid and noticed that Quirrell was wearing a pair of black gloves on the hand holding Harry's.

At that moment, a strange thought suddenly flashed through Tierra's mind.

If Professor Quirrell were to remove his gloves and shake hands with Harry now, would the first Harry Potter book end prematurely?

"What kind of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Professor Quirrell mumbled, as if he thought it best not to mention it. “You already… you don’t need to learn that, right, Mr.… Mr. Potter?”

Quirrell suddenly burst into a somewhat neurotic laugh. "So you're about to go buy what you need? Perfect timing, I, I, I also... I'm going to buy a book about vampires."

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell talk to Harry indefinitely. It took Harry about ten minutes to shake them off. Amidst the incessant chatter, Heracles, holding Tyrell's hand, raised his voice and called to Harry, "It's time to go, we still have a lot to buy. Come on, Harry, don't keep Tyrell waiting."

After Cordoba shook hands with Harry for the last time, Hagrid led him across the bar to a small courtyard surrounded by walls. There was nothing there except a rubbish can and some weeds.

“Sorry Harry, Tyella, I was going to take you to the Leaky Cauldron for breakfast. Their mashed potato sandwiches are absolutely amazing; even the house-elves at Hogwarts can’t make them like that.” Hagrid grinned at Harry and Tyella. “But now we’ll just have to grab something in Diagon Alley. Hmm… their delicious sausages are still on the way.”

As Hagrid spoke, he pulled out a pink umbrella.

(End of this chapter)