Upon returning to Moonlight Fortress, Harry skillfully dismounted his flying broom, looking like a seasoned flying broom rider.
"It seems you have quite a talent for flying," Howl said with a smile.
Harry was somewhat flustered by Howl's sudden praise, holding the broom in one hand and unsure where to put the other, finally scratching the back of his head: "I… I don't know either."
Howl smiled and led the way into the Castle: "Get ready, we're heading to London."
Harry was a bit surprised and quickly followed behind: "Uncle Howl, am I going too?"
"Of course, kid. Otherwise, who will carry the things I buy?" Howl walked straight to the second floor, saying loudly without looking back: "Lucifer, get me some money."
"How much?" Lucifer emerged from the fireplace.
"One… No, two."
Lucifer nodded, then looked at Harry, a bit puzzled: "Aren't you cold?"
Harry then realized he hadn't put on his clothes yet, revealing his lean body, looking like a vagrant.
However, from the fact that he couldn't even get enough to eat, he wasn't much different from a vagrant.
About ten minutes later, he saw Uncle Howl coming down, also wearing a khaki coat that complemented his lower body.
"How are we going?" Harry stood up and asked.
Howl walked over to Lucifer, and Lucifer opened his mouth, spitting out two gold bricks. Howl placed the gold bricks into his cuff, and they were "eaten" as if by Magic.
"By flying, of course…" Howl said casually, then realized that if he flew directly, he would likely be caught by the Ministry of Magic again.
"Lucifer, do we have any transportation?"
Lucifer thought for a moment: "There's still a shuttle and a glider in the basement."
…
Harry showed a look of disbelief. He didn't know what a shuttle was, but… a glider??
"No, I mean something less flashy, with wheels."
"A carriage?"
Howl was silent for a while, then looked at Harry and said: "We might have to choose the method you're least willing to accept."
"What?"
"Teleportation." Howl smiled slightly, placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, and gripped it tightly: "I haven't been to London many times. So I don't have an impression of most places. There's only one place where I can guarantee we won't get stuck in a wall after we teleport."
"Where is it?" Harry suddenly felt nervous when he heard there was a risk of getting stuck in a wall.
"Big Ben!"
After he spoke, there was a sudden sound of air being rapidly stirred, and at the same time, the surrounding space collapsed around Howl's body.
The next moment, the two disappeared from their original spot.
London, Westminster District, also commonly known as the West End, is the absolute center of London.
At the top of Big Ben, accompanied by a rush of air, two figures suddenly appeared.
"This is…" Harry's mouth hung open as he looked at the River Thames below and the Houses of Parliament nearby, a sense of unreality surfacing in his heart.
However, the cold wind that followed immediately confirmed the reality of what he was seeing.
Howl didn't pay much attention to this; he quickly searched the street below, soon locking onto an empty alley. The next moment, the two disappeared from their original spot again.
To the west of Trafalgar Square, in an deserted alley, Howl led Harry out.
Harry hadn't recovered from the two consecutive teleports, his face a shade of liver-red, when Howl waved at a passerby ahead and asked for directions.
By the time Harry recovered, Howl was already sitting in a black taxi, typical of London.
Once he got in the car, Howl handed him a scarf.
"This is?"
"To cover the scar on your forehead," Howl explained: "Also, when we get there, if anyone asks your name, remember to tell them you're Harry Jones."
Howl shook his head: "Trust me, there's no harm in it. If I remember correctly, your name carries other meanings."
"What meaning?" Harry was suddenly curious. He was just an ordinary person, could there be a celebrity with the same name as him?
"I only have a vague understanding," Howl said.
He really only had a vague understanding; he just knew that Harry seemed to be a celebrity in the Wizarding World, a big celebrity.
The kind that would attract a crowd.
Of course, he didn't think Harry was particularly special, just a poor child.
Upon reaching Charing Cross Road, the two had only walked a few steps when they noticed an old pub.
It was so old and worn, old enough to be in an old movie, and it was so out of place, sandwiched between two beautifully renovated bookstores and record shops.
However, the hurried passersby didn't even glance at it. Harry, having gained experience from Moonlight Fortress, immediately realized that ordinary people couldn't see this pub at all.
Upon entering the pub, the tall man and the short boy immediately attracted the attention of many, as their pairing was truly incongruous.
If Howl resembled the head of an emerging family in the Wizarding World, Harry was like… like a servant.
Many people couldn't help but wonder, did he not have a House-elf at home?
A stooped old man suddenly stood in front of the two. He asked: "Guests from afar, do you need any help? Are you going to Diagon Alley, or would you like a drink?"
Old Tom had been running this pub for decades, and he could guarantee that he had never seen any familiar shadow on Howl's face, so he easily discerned that the two were not locals.
"We'd like to go to Diagon Alley. Could you please show us the way?" Howl said with a faint smile.
"Of course, please follow me." Old Tom nodded and led the two towards the back of the pub.
The three arrived at a small, walled courtyard. There was nothing there except a trash can and some weeds. Harry was wondering when he saw the stooped old man pull out a small wooden stick.
"Starting from the trash can, count up three bricks, then two bricks horizontally."
With that, he tapped the corresponding brick twice with the small wooden stick.
Then, before their eyes, the brick he had tapped suddenly trembled, then began to move, and a small hole appeared in the middle. The hole grew larger and larger, and soon a wide archway appeared before them, leading to a winding, seemingly endless street paved with cobblestones.
"If you need to exchange some money, follow the path to the fork, and you'll see Gringotts. Finally, my name is Tom Abbott, and you're welcome to come to the pub for a drink after your shopping. Have a pleasant journey." Old Tom said.
"Alright." Howl nodded and led the way into Diagon Alley.
Harry quickly followed, looking left and right, craning his neck the whole way, hoping to see everything clearly. There were shops selling owls, shops selling dragon liver, and piles of spellbooks, quills, rolls of parchment, potion bottles, moon globes…
Howl was also a bit amazed; he hadn't felt this way in many years. Wizards mostly lived in seclusion, and such standardized commercial streets were uncommon.
Then, the two saw Gringotts, a snow-white building towering above the surrounding shops, next to its gleaming bronze doors.
And, a Goblin.
The Goblin was about half a head shorter than Harry, with a clever, dark face, a pointed beard, and unusually long hands, feet, and nose, exactly like the wicked Goblins in stories.
Howl was also a bit surprised; Goblins running a bank? Could humans trust them?
Walking further in, there was another door. At the same time, two Goblins came forward to greet them. Harry seemed to notice some writing on the door, but before he could read it clearly, Howl walked in, and he had no choice but to follow.
Upon reaching the main hall, where about a hundred Goblins were busy at the counters, Howl walked to an empty counter and asked: "Can I exchange gold?"
"Of course, gold is always valuable." The Goblin didn't even look up, nodding somewhat impatiently: "The current gold price is 40 Galleons an ounce. How many ounces do you wish to exchange?"
Howl was a bit apologetic: "Sorry, you might have misunderstood. I want to exchange for some money."
As he spoke, he pulled out two large gold bricks.
Clang—
The Galleon the Goblin was twirling and playing with on his slender fingers suddenly dropped to the floor. This was his cherished gold coin, but now it was no longer on his mind.
In his eyes, there were only those two gleaming gold bricks.
Howl handed over the two gold bricks. The Goblin, with trembling hands, first used some unknown Magic to measure the purity, then placed them on the scales.
"4.4 pounds… 53 ounces, equivalent to…"
Click-clack, he worked his abacus.
"Equivalent to 2120 Galleons, sir." The Goblin's face was wreathed in smiles, with no trace of his earlier impatience.