The Leaky Cauldron

"Why are your eyes red?"

On the streets of Spinner's End, Callan crunched into an apple, handing one to Snape while inquiring, "Did your father hit you? Or did your parents have another row?"

"Mind your own business!" Snape bit fiercely into the apple, as if to vent some inner turmoil.

Callan didn't take Snape's attitude to heart, instead muttering in confusion, "Does wizarding adolescence always hit so early?"

"What did you say?" Snape retorted instinctively, suspecting Callan's remark wasn't flattering, though he hadn't heard it clearly.

"Nothing important." Callan dismissed it casually, changing the subject. "You know where The Leaky Cauldron is, right?"

"I do," Snape replied grudgingly, still fixated on Callan's murmurs. "Between Charing Cross Road number 48 and Great Newport Street number 12. Muggles can't see it."

"Good to know where it is."

By now, they had stepped beyond the bounds of Spinner's End, with Callan scanning the surroundings.

Snape halted alongside him, discarding his apple core into a bin and frowning at Callan. "Why are we stopping? If we don't hurry, we'll miss the time we agreed to meet Lily."

"Walk?" Callan echoed with a laugh, "Walk the several miles there?"

"Then what's your plan?" Snape's face darkened, not finding the humor, but soon he was staring wide-eyed in astonishment.

Like a magician, Callan produced a wad of large-denomination British pounds, stating with a slight smile, "We're not walking. We're taking a cab."

Snape remained in shock even after disembarking, realizing the pounds in his own pocket paled in comparison to Callan's wealth.

"Where did you get so much money? Aren't you an orph—" Snape's frown deepened, but he stopped short of finishing the word, his time with Lily having taught him better than to bring up such matters.

"Oh?" Callan raised an eyebrow but didn't directly address the question. "Seems I'm not only stronger than you, but wealthier too."

Snape stayed silent, his hand clenching inside his pocket.

"Let's get moving, no time to waste," Callan urged, seemingly oblivious to Snape's discomfort.

The Leaky Cauldron was just as Snape described—unseen by Muggles, an enigma even on a map.

Due to the letters of acceptance, a few parents accompanied their children into the pub, but groups comprised entirely of children, like Callan and Snape, were indeed rare.

Ignoring the curious stares, Callan led Snape inside the infamous establishment.

Despite his mental preparation, Callan couldn't help but disdain the squalor. For a place of such renown, it was too dark, too dirty—unworthy of being the gateway to Diagon Alley, especially for first-time Muggle families.

The young Tom, the bartender, bore little resemblance to his older self, his thinning hair the only sign of middle age. He was mid-complaint to an elderly patron about Fleamont Potter's premature retirement, lamenting the limited utility of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion for the hairless, arguing that Hair-Growing Potions would have been far more profitable.

As Tom ruefully stroked his hair, the old man nodded in agreement.

Upon noticing Callan and Snape, Tom hurried over, his surprise evident. "Merlin's beard, children, are you new students? Where are your parents? Didn't they come with you?"

"Yes, we came by ourselves," Callan replied, offering no further explanation.

"Ah, I see," Tom nodded, understandingly avoiding further questions. Students with such backgrounds were few, but he remembered, from the days when he had more hair, a similarly unfortunate newcomer named Tom.

Tom regarded the two with pity, pondering whether to offer them a complimentary beverage, leaving Snape unsure whether to correct the assumption or remain silent.

Fortunately, before Snape could decide, Callan spoke up, "We plan to head to Diagon Alley. Could you assist us, sir?"

"Of course, not a problem," Tom said warmly, leading them through the bar to a small, walled courtyard, which held nothing but a trash bin and some weeds.

"Excuse me," Callan interjected, "but do you sell Gamp's Old Gregarious here?"

"Indeed, child," Tom replied kindly. "Named after the first Minister for Magic, Ulick Gamp, to honor his decision to let The Leaky Cauldron be after the International Statute of Secrecy. It's pricey, costing a whole Galleon, but finishing a pint grants you a 100 Galleon prize. However,"

Tom noted Snape's expression, adding with a smile, "the brew is exceptionally bitter. Since the 18th century, no one has managed to finish it."

Emphasizing his point, he concluded, "Not a single one."

Callan glanced at Snape with a similar smile, then focused intently on Tom's actions.

"Watch closely, children." Tom produced his wand, tapping it on the trash bin. "Count three up from the bin, then two across. But don't worry if you forget, you can always ask me for help."

With that, Tom tapped the brick thrice.

The brick quivered and shifted, creating a small hole that grew wider and wider. Soon, a vast archway unveiled, leading to a winding cobblestone street that stretched out of sight.

"Welcome," Tom turned with a smile, "to Diagon Alley."