July 31st. Clear skies today.
In the living room, Rock made sure the Bowtruckle was fed before turning to Grandpa Newt.
"Grandpa, when are we heading out?"
Newt, his white hair scattered a little, was crouched beside his suitcase, checking through his supplies. He didn't respond at all—he might as well have been deaf to Rock's voice.
"Moonstone powder… dragon liver… right, and also…"
Rock puffed out his cheeks. His grandpa really loved messing with him.
But then Rock smirked.
"Grandma! Didn't you say you wanted to hear Grandpa talk about that time he studied that weird Southeast creature—"
Smack!
Newt shot to his feet, snapping the suitcase shut with a loud clap, waving his hands frantically.
"Rock! Don't—"
Rock spun away dramatically, pretending not to see Newt's panic, his grin stretching even wider. "I heard Grandpa telling me all about it the other day~"
Newt practically jumped, like someone stomped on his tail, and tackled Rock just enough to slap his hand over the boy's mouth.
"Shhh! You little devil… You promised you wouldn't say that… you sneaky rascal…"
Rock laughed through Newt's fingers, voice muffled. "So does that mean you'll take me to Diagon Alley now?"
Newt nodded so fast his necktie went crooked.
"Yes yes yes—now! Right now!"
---
Tap… tap…
Grandma Tina came down the steps wearing a gray coat, her silver hair pulled into a neat bun. Her gaze drifted between the two clowns on the floor.
Stepping off the last stair, she smiled—not a sweet smile, but a knowing one.
"Rock, honey, I thought I heard you calling me. Maybe my ears are getting old."
Newt hurriedly let go of Rock and scrambled upright, fussing with his clothes before facing Tina.
"Dearest, no, nothing—Rock and I were just… uh… talking about Bowtruckles."
"Grandma, you're not old at all. Grandpa just said we should hurry to Diagon Alley."
Rock bounced up, quickly going to Tina's side and helping her down the last step.
Tina wasn't actually old enough to need help, but she enjoyed the gesture from her grandson.
"He says we need to get all the things for Hogwarts right away~ Isn't that right, Grandpa?"
Rock shot Newt a wink.
"Uh… yes! Exactly!" Newt agreed a little too fast.
Tina chuckled softly. She didn't expose either of them—she simply walked calmly to Newt, straightened his flipped-up collar, and let her fingers linger for a moment on his slightly flushed ear.
"Yes, we should head out soon. And as for the Bowtruckle story… we can talk about it tonight~"
Rock's head dropped instantly.
Uh oh.
So Grandma had overheard that conversation last time…
Newt froze. He wasn't stupid—Tina's tone made it painfully clear she already knew.
Tina patted Newt's chest lightly, then crouched to eye-level with Rock and tapped his forehead.
"Rock, don't do that again."
"She's been protecting the biggest fool I've ever loved. If it happens again, you'll be in charge of cleaning the Occamy's shed skin in the basement!"
Rock's heart dropped.
Great. He'd been so busy teasing Grandpa that he forgot Grandma was the real final boss.
"I'm sorry, Grandpa, I just—"
Newt put a hand on Rock's shoulder, gently patting it. He knew his grandson's heart was in the right place.
And honestly… it did bring back a few memories. But still—
"Grandma's right. Your punishment: no broomstick this year."
Tina shook her head. Rock was a first-year at Hogwarts—what would he even need a broomstick for?
"Alright," Tina said after checking the magic clock on the wall, "if we don't go now, we'll be late."
Newt flicked his wand and the suitcase floated neatly to Rock's feet. He took Tina's hand and winked at Rock.
"Hold on tight. You might feel a bit dizzy—like that time the Niffler jumped on you and spun around twice."
Rock wanted to tell him he did not need such a detailed reminder.
He had absolutely been manhandled by that furry menace like a stuffed toy.
"Don't worry, I'll hold on to you. Just grab the suitcase." Newt nodded toward the case at Rock's feet.
The moment Rock bent down to grab the handle—
"Apparate."
Rock felt like he'd been stuffed into a flushing toilet. Everything twisted and folded at once.
A moment later, the three of them appeared in a narrow alleyway.
Rock exhaled hard, fighting the urge to puke.
Newt and Tina exchanged a look—most first-timers got dizzy, but Rock looked surprisingly steady.
"Bleh—"
Spoke too soon. Rock lurched toward the corner and threw up.
"Grandpa! You did that on purpose! This alley smells horrible!"
Rock wiped his mouth, glaring weakly.
Uh…
Newt looked around, touching his nose sheepishly. This was the same alley he visited the last time he came to Knockturn Alley.
So… yeah. He kinda brought them here by accident.
And now that Rock mentioned it, Tina wrinkled her nose too. The stench was awful.
"My mistake… let's get you some lemon drops later."
Newt patted Rock's back as they walked through a few alleys and finally reached a bustling street.
Rock lifted his head, eyes sparkling.
So this was the real magic world?
Crowds moved in every direction. Shops lined both sides of the street. Voices shouted from storefronts.
Owls swooped over the crowd. In one clothing shop, the displays were—dancing?
Rock's eye twitched. If this happened at night back in America, it would 100% be considered nightmare fuel.
Newt and Tina shared a laugh.
"Alright," Newt said, tucking away his wand, "first stop—Gringotts."
They turned a corner, and Rock stared at the crooked, leaning building ahead of them.
It looked like it might fall over any second.
"Kinda gives off that 'abandoned haunted house' vibe, doesn't it?"
Newt grinned, delighted by Rock's expression—somewhere between amused and horrified.