In the heart of a bustling corner of London, immersed in the surge of crowd, a young man stood, adorned in a robe of pitch black that stood in stark contrast to the contemporary styles of dress of the muggle passersby. He held an air of both strikingly tall and slender, buried deep in the task of scrutinizing an address transcribed from a book in his hands.
The man was, of course, none other than Sherlock Forester, and while the passersby stared at him with curiosity, they seemed to do nothing to ruffle his calm demeanor. Though he wasn't socially inept by any measure, his ability to overlook the uncomfortable attention commanded by his presence in a muggle street spoke of an impressive, hardened ability, honed through countless similar experiences.
The address he studied so intently was lifted from a publication concerning a wizard's journey into the world of magic and led him to a timeworn pub tucked away inconspicuously among the modern shopping fronts of London. This establishment, christened 'The Leaky Cauldron,' was indeed open for customer service – even though the throng of people swarming its flanks, lost in their daily routines, seemed blind to its existence.
Having spent the past month immersed in secluded study, engrossed in unraveling the secrets of basic magic, he knew why from the perspective of the unsuspecting Muggles hurrying by, the pub was hidden. It was subject to the stealth magic of the 'Muggle-Repelling Charm,' a commonly employed spell executed by wizards in the pursuit of practicing obscurity. However, for an informed wizard like Sherlock, the welcoming sign of 'The Leaky Cauldron' shone brightly in his sight.
Venturing out was certainly a risk; Sherlock had no insights on his predecessor's affiliations within the wizarding community. A familiar face might recognize him in the Leaky Cauldron or perhaps in Diagon Alley, exposing his identity beneath an otherwise perfect disguise should he fail to act as expected of him. Yet, considering the requisites for his upcoming journey to Hogwarts that required purchasing supplies and ensuring a stable supply of Galleons for everyday use from his predecessor's vault at Gringotts, the visit to Diagon Alley was inescapable.
Despite the looming dangers, Sherlock was sure that he wouldn't cause much attention, given his reclusive nature. As he stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, he found that barely anyone registered his presence. The patrons, almost all robed with somewhat similar attire, were content in their bubble, enjoying their drinks. Only the pub's owner, Tom, acknowledged his entrance.
"Ah, haven't seen you here before. Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, what can I get ya?" Tom inquired.
Attempting to keep up his indifferent façade, Sherlock ordered a Butterbeer and found himself a vacant corner to sit. With the arrival of his Butterbeer, he took a sip but found the sweetness not to his liking, setting the drink aside. Instead, he waited patiently.
Sherlock remembered that the route to Diagon Alley was through the pub's rear courtyard by tapping a specific sequence of bricks with a wand – a fact he remembered reading about in the first book in the series, but he had failed to recall exactly which bricks he had to tap. And so his plan was to simply wait for someone to use the passage, so that he could watch them open it.
Roughly fifteen minutes passed before a trio comprising of what appeared to be a family with a young girl walked into the Leaky Cauldron. A wand peeked out from the frizzy-haired girl's pocket, the stitching on her robe identifying her as a Hogwarts student. As if guided by instinct, they navigated through the pub and headed towards the back courtyard. Sherlock, observing their movement, left a few Knuts, which he had found in the study, on the counter as payment for his untouched Butterbeer and followed behind them.
As he walked to the backyard of the pub, he saw the little girl and her family standing by the wall, counting the bricks. "Do you remember which one it is?" her mother asked.
"Of course, Mom, how could I forget such an important thing?" replied the girl, holding her head high and proud as she used the trash bin as a reference point and started counting.
"Go up three bricks, then two bricks sideways... Yes, then this one aand.." she whispered, pulling out her wand and gently tapping a few seemingly random bricks.
As she spoke the brick she tapped started to shake and move, revealing a small hole that quickly expanded into a wide archway leading to a cobbled street that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Sherlock, standing behind them, observed the whole process and carefully noted the position of the bricks the girl had tapped.
He then passed by the "helpful" family. "Excuse me, coming through," Sherlock said, as the little girl's family remained oblivious to the fact that they had just become Sherlock's tools.
For the second time, the couple found themselves visiting Diagon Alley with their daughter, still amazed by everything here. Sherlock maintained his aloof demeanor as he made his way to Gringotts. As such, he didn't hear the conversation of the little girl's family behind him.
"Where should we go first, Hermione?"
"I made plans to meet Harry and Ron in Diagon Alley today, so we should wait for them at the entrance of Gringotts."
Hermione Granger, a second-year student at Hogwarts, said to her father.
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