บท 5: Chapter 5: Professor McGonagall's Terrifying Presence

"Professor, where is Diagon Alley?"

"London, Charing Cross Road, in Westminster. There is a famous landmark of the magical community there, the Leaky Cauldron. Go through the Leaky Cauldron, and you will reach Diagon Alley."

Perhaps because she had answered the question many times before, Professor McGonagall responded without even thinking.

"London, Charing Cross Road, Leaky Cauldron," Andrew repeated the location. "Alright, Professor, I've got it. So, how do we get there?"

"Knight Bus, Floo Network, Apparition, or by Muggle transport," Professor McGonagall replied, nodding slightly. "If we were in London, I'd suggest using Muggle transport, but since we're a bit far and there's no major Floo Network node nearby, we'll Apparate."

"Apparition? You mean—using a spell to move a person from one place to another?" Andrew kept up his talkative persona. "That sounds like an incredible spell..."

"Most students attempt to learn it when they come of age, but it requires sufficient magical knowledge and power as a foundation," Professor McGonagall nodded. "Hold onto my arm, Taylor. Do not let go, or we may have some issues."

Andrew complied, never foolishly underestimating the unknown.

"Close your eyes, Taylor. Get ready—one, two, three."

With the last word, a dense darkness enveloped Andrew, accompanied by an intense feeling of being squeezed. It felt like diving deep underwater, with pressure coming from all sides.

However, the discomfort quickly disappeared, and Professor McGonagall's voice soon followed. "Alright, you can open your eyes now, Mr. Taylor. That was an excellent Apparition experience."

Even amidst the discomfort, Andrew could tell that Professor McGonagall's voice circled around him, as if she were checking for something.

"Is something wrong, Professor?"

"No, everything is fine, nothing to worry about, Mr. Taylor," Professor McGonagall said with certainty. "I was merely conducting a routine disapparition check. If you hadn't held on tightly, issues could have arisen."

"Just like you said, one of the consequences of improperly using magic?"

"Exactly, Taylor." Professor McGonagall nodded. "But for now, you can focus elsewhere. We've arrived at the Leaky Cauldron."

The name was famous indeed.

The surname McGonagall might not immediately bring to mind the magical world without the title "Professor," but the Leaky Cauldron was another story.

Andrew looked up at the pub in front of him—or perhaps it was more like a small tavern. Compared to the bookshop and record store next door, it certainly lived up to its name.

"Quite fitting as a concealed entrance."

Andrew evaluated it. "People around here don't seem to notice it, and they ignore our sudden appearance—is that another spell?"

"Not just one. There are multiple concealment charms protecting this tavern and the land it stands on. However, we should head inside quickly, so as not to obstruct anyone else entering." Professor McGonagall nodded and seemed to change her mind.

His insight and reasoning abilities were impressive, and he showed restraint. Considering that, his earlier quirks were not such a big deal.

They entered the pub.

Andrew noticed that as soon as the bar's patrons saw that it was Professor McGonagall entering, the temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees—maybe more.

The boisterous cheering, the near-arguments, and the hearty laughter all vanished, as if someone had cast a spell forbidding sound.

Not only that, but most of the patrons seemed to have suddenly fallen under some strange spell; their necks bent forward, as though they could no longer support the weight of their heads.

In that atmosphere, Andrew didn't dare say a word, even though he wanted to maintain his persona. He simply followed Professor McGonagall obediently.

As she exchanged greetings with the bartender, Andrew noticed several glances being shot their way, only to quickly turn away. Still, the tavern remained so quiet you could hear the breathing of those inside.

In fact, it wasn't until Professor McGonagall led Andrew out through the back door that the volume in the pub began to rise again—but even then, it was a hushed increase.

"Here we are," Professor McGonagall pointed to a wall. "From here, count three bricks up and two in. Use a wand to tap it."

Andrew's scattered thoughts immediately focused as he memorized the brick. He then watched as Professor McGonagall tapped it with her wand, causing the bricks to begin moving rapidly, making way for a wide passage.

"This is Diagon Alley," Professor McGonagall said as she handed Andrew a money pouch—a small bag that seemed, by its appearance, to be too tiny to hold anything substantial. Yet, the deflated pouch could apparently hold four times its own size. It was clear that this was yet another kind of magic.

"This is the school's fund for students: seventy Galleons to purchase books, a wand, robes, and class supplies. Every year, thirty Galleons are provided for buying new books and supplies—the money may not be enough, so you might need to buy some second-hand textbooks."

(Note: According to Dobby's original wage of ten Galleons per week, and considering that wands are likely subsidized by the Ministry of Magic, their price cannot be used as a standard. Exchange rates are supplementary information; set at five pounds per Galleon but subject to change. Back in 1991, the minimum hourly wage in the UK was 2.45 pounds, and doctors made about 850 pounds per week, while dentists earned even more.)

"The gold coins in the bag are Galleons. Seventeen silver Sickles equal one Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts make up one Sickle."

"The items you need to buy are listed in the letter." Professor McGonagall handed Andrew a letter. "Take a look."

Andrew tucked the money pouch under his left elbow and used his right hand to open the letter. He knew the first page wouldn't be important, but he still took a full minute to read it carefully before flipping to the second page, which contained the list.

Textbooks, robes, cauldron and potion materials (he noted that there was a Potions class), a wand, and even a telescope.

"Excuse me, Professor," Andrew thought about what he knew about the cost of professional books and asked, slightly wincing, "Is it possible to exchange magical currency with regular currency?"

"Certainly. Each year, we admit suitable students from the Muggle world, but there's a limit on the amount of currency that can be exchanged annually, and income sources must be verified to confirm it isn't from illegal activities. However, Muggle-born students are exempt from providing proof until graduation, as long as the school can verify their status. Currently, the exchange rate is seven pounds to one Galleon."

(Note: Important things bear repeating—the original interview stated that the exchange rate fluctuates.)