I met this guy named Professor Quirrell too, who's supposed to be my Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And, look, I try not to be judgmental, but this guy doesn't look like he can defend himself against a gentle breeze. He seems to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He's also got a gigantic stutter, but that's sort of neither here nor there, right? He seems like he needs loads and loads of therapy. But then again, so do I, so who am I to judge? On the bright side, if he's under so much stress, surely he wouldn't give himself more by assigning tons of homework. I hope.
But all of this paled in comparison to the true attraction of the day: Diagon Alley itself. Hagrid opened up a secret entrance in the wall and we were in a huge street, somehow in the middle of London. It did not seem to make sense and I wonder if it was located in a pocket dimension of some sort. But then again, I think stuff not making sense is going to be a running theme of my magical education.
What's more relevant is that Diagon Alley is awesome! Here, let me show you a photograph.
[Image description: A cobbled street filled with people in stereotypical wizard and witch outfits, with buildings that leaned haphazardly, selling things such as cauldrons, owls, and eels' eyes.]
All these years, and I never suspected in the slightest there was a secret world right under my nose. It's beautiful. As I walked down the street, I realized instinctively that I belong here. I felt a sense of belonging unlike anything I've ever felt before. Granted, anything is better next to Privet Drive, but still, I feel it in my bones. I'm meant to be here.
I'm glad all of you get to see this too for the first time. I was kind of worried I was breaking some sort of rule, because, well, it makes sense the magical world would be secret. There should be some sort of Statute of Secrecy, right? But Hagrid says I have nothing to worry about and that my blog is doing extremely important work. He says the Muggles have to understand. He was very keen on emphasizing that, which is weird, but whatever. I'm sure Hagrid wouldn't lead me astray!
We quickly arrived at Gringotts. And sure enough, there are goblins here! It's so awesome! I never, ever thought I'd ever get a chance to meet a member of another sentient species, but here they are. More photographs!
[Image descriptions: Image one is Gringotts Bank, a edifice of white marble towering over the buildings in the rest of Diagon Alley. Image two is me taking a selfie with the goblin guarding the door, who looks like he has absolutely no idea what's happening. Then he shoved me to the ground and told me never, ever to do something like that again. But, hey, YOLO, mates.]
After the encounter with the guard, I decided maybe it was a bad idea to tempt their wrath further by taking more pictures, so I just strode right in. At that point, it turned out that Hagrid somehow had the key to my vault. I decided right then and there to use the utmost in subtlety to trick Hagrid into telling me just why he had my key.
"Hagrid, why do you have my key?" I asked craftily.
"Oh, well…" He looked embarrassed. "Professor Dumbledore gave it to me."
Professor Dumbledore, I should say now, is the headmaster of Hogwarts. And the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, which I am given to understand is like the Speaker of the House of Commons. And he's the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, which seems to maybe be the same type of job? The point is, he's got three very powerful positions and I don't understand how he manages to keep up with all of them without going insane. Maybe he uses some sort of time machine to be in several places at once? No, even by the standards of the magical world, that's just silly.
From what I've heard about him, he's basically Gandalf. He was the commander of the forces against Voldemort. My parents directly served under his command. He's got more magical power in his pinkie than most people can dream of. And he's apparently obsessed with lemon drops for some reason. Some people say he's going a bit senile these days, but others think he's still sharp as a tack and just pretending to get people underestimating him.
None of this, you might note, explains why he has the key to the vault containing my money.
"Look, Harry, would you rather the headmaster had it or Petunia Dursley?" Hagrid asked when I pointed this out to him. I could not deny this was a very good point. They'd have drained the vault instantly. Yet it was still not an answer to my question. Hagrid sighed. "Your parents appointed Dumbledore as executor of their estate."
I froze. Dumbledore was in charge of following my parents' wishes. Like which guardian I would be placed with. Still, this didn't mean at all he knew about how bad the Dursleys were. It was perfectly logical to place me with my mother's sister. I was probably safer hiding in the Muggle world, objectively. But still…this didn't sit right with me. "Can I have it now?"
Hagrid tilted his head. "Sure, if you want. But you won't be able to use it till you've turned 17 and you're an adult, just so you know, without getting Dumbledore's approval. Or your guardians, I suppose, but I think we both know how that'll go."
Oh, yeah. I'd be doomed if Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon got their hands on that key. They'd probably decide to take all the money and move to the Caribbean, leaving me in the lurch. "You know what, Hagrid, you keep the key. I trust you."
.....
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