Chapter Four: A Gringotts Exchange
Elian hunched over, hands on his knees, fighting a wave of intense nausea. The world swam unpleasantly before his eyes.
"Quite normal for a first time," Professor Dumbledore said pleasantly, not seeming the least bit winded. "It does get easier, I assure you."
After a few deep breaths, Elian managed to stand upright, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm alright," he said weakly, though his stomach still churned. "It's… quite a sensation."
Dumbledore gave him an understanding smile before pushing open a heavy, dark-wooden door. Elian looked up. The building was shabby, sandwiched between a bookshop and a record store, its windows boarded up. A creaking sign above the door depicted a cracked cauldron.
The Leaky Cauldron.
Elian's heart gave a little leap of recognition. He followed Dumbledore inside, into the dim, smoky pub. The buzz of conversation dipped for a moment as patrons recognized the headmaster. Witches and wizards nodded respectfully, raised their tankards, or tipped their hats. Dumbledore acknowledged them with gentle nods as he led Elian straight through the crowded room to a small, walled courtyard at the back.
"Now, pay close attention," Dumbledore said, drawing his wand. He tapped a specific brick on the wall—once, twice, a precise rhythm. "This is the most common entrance from the non-magical world. Of course, once you are proficient with apparition or Floo powder, you may use those."
As he spoke, the brick he'd tapped quivered. Then, with a soft grinding sound, the wall began to shift. A small hole appeared, widening rapidly into a perfect archway, revealing a scene that stole Elian's breath.
A cobblestoned street, narrow and winding, stretched out before him, buzzing with life. Witches and wizards in colourful robes bustled past, their arms full of packages. Shops with crooked roofs and fantastical signs sold everything from shimmering telescopes to live, squawking owls. The air smelled of baking bread, strange spices, and something faintly like gunpowder.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Mister Throne," Dumbledore said, a note of amusement in his voice as he watched Elian's wide-eyed wonder. "The heart of Britain's wizarding commerce. Now, let us proceed to Gringotts. You'll need funds for your purchases."
Elian followed, his head swiveling to take in every detail: Eeylops Owl Emporium, Flourish and Blotts, the apothecary with its jarred ingredients. Soon, they stood before a towering, snow-white building that leaned slightly against its neighbours. It looked more like a Greek temple than a bank. Two goblins in scarlet and gold uniforms stood guard at the burnished bronze doors, bowing stiffly as Dumbledore approached.
They passed through the bronze doors, then a second set of silver doors. Etched into the silver was a poem of warning about greed and theft. Elian read it, a faint smile touching his lips. Not so safe that they don't need warnings, he thought.
Inside, the main hall was vast and marbled. Long counters stretched along its length, behind which over a hundred goblins laboured, weighing coins, examining gems, or scribbling in large ledgers. The clink of gold and the scratch of quills created a busy, serious atmosphere.
"This is Gringotts," Dumbledore said, lowering his voice. "You will find the currency exchange desk here. I must leave you now—other duties call. You can manage the rest of your shopping alone, yes? And a word of advice," he added, his blue eyes serious. "The alley that branches off nearby is called Knockturn Alley. I do not recommend you visit it alone."
"Of course, Professor. Thank you for bringing me," Elian said, meaning it.
With a final nod, Dumbledore turned and melted back into the crowd outside.
Elian was alone. He took a steadying breath and began scanning the counters, looking for any sign indicating currency exchange. The goblins ignored him, utterly absorbed in their work. He was about to approach one when a familiar, confident voice cut through the hall's murmur.
"…thirty Galleons, fifty Sickles, and one hundred Knuts. I've already calculated it. Here are the pounds. I've counted them three times, so you shouldn't need to count them again."
Elian turned.
There, at a counter, stood a girl with a bushy mane of brown hair. She was dressed in neat jeans and a jumper, looking impatiently at the goblin who was slowly, meticulously counting a stack of Muggle banknotes.
Hermione Granger.
Even out of school robes, she was unmistakable. Her posture was straight, her expression one of slight exasperation at the inefficiency. Elian's mind raced. She's here. She looks… fifteen? Sixteen? So Harry and Ron are around too. Which year is this?
He watched as the goblin, unfazed, continued his methodical count. Hermione tapped her fingers on the counter, clearly eager to be off to the bookshop.
Seeing his chance, Elian smoothed his expression and walked over. He stopped a polite distance away, waiting until she glanced his way.
"Excuse me," he said, offering a friendly smile. "Hello. My name is Elian Throne. I'm a new student for Hogwarts. I was wondering, is this the counter where I can exchange Muggle money?"
Hermione's brown eyes, bright and intelligent, shifted from the goblin to him. She took in his appearance—older than a typical first-year, looking slightly lost in the grand hall. Her expression softened from impatience to helpful curiosity.
"Oh! Yes, it is," she said, her voice brisk but not unkind. "You just have to wait for them to finish. They're very… thorough." She shot a look at the goblin, who didn't look up. "Are you a first-year? You seem a bit…" She trailed off, tactfully.
Elian chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's a long story. A very long story. But yes, first-year. I'm a bit behind schedule."
"Well," Hermione said, her natural instinct to organize and assist taking over. "Once you get your money, the list is quite straightforward. I could point you in the right direction if you like. Most of the shops are easy to find."
For the first time since arriving in this bewildering, wonderful world, Elian felt a genuine connection. He grinned. "I would really appreciate that. Thank you…?"
"Hermione," she said, returning the smile. "Hermione Granger."
(End of Chapter)
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