Before heading to Diagon Alley, Ethan went home first.
He went straight to the study, took out an ordinary-looking small cloth bag from the drawer. Inside was a thick wad of pounds—more than five thousand.
This was the preparation he'd made after learning about the wizarding world's "currency system" from Dumbledore.
Galleons, Sickles, Knuts… and the exchange rates that made his mouth twitch: 1 Galleon = 17 Sickles, 1 Sickle = 29 Knuts.
"Who came up with this numbering system? If you can't do mental math while paying, you'll get ripped off by the devil!" Ethan thought to himself, feeling that the decimal system was way cuter.
Dumbledore had also mentioned an "exchange rate": five pounds could be exchanged for one golden Galleon.
Ethan quickly did the mental calculations and realized the rate was practically charity. His five thousand pounds could buy him a fortune. It seemed his "savings that could never be spent in three lifetimes" were just as valuable in the magical world.
...
"Are you ready, child?"
Dumbledore looked at the rather plain cloth bag in Ethan's hand and asked gently.
"Ready, Professor!"
Ethan nodded and patted his "money bag."
To make it easier for Ethan to purchase supplies in Diagon Alley in the future, they opted for Muggle-style transportation. Fortunately, Diagon Alley was located in central London and wasn't far from here.
What happened next was somewhat fantastical:
A legendary wizard, dressed in a robe as white as the stars with a flowing white beard, stood together on the roadside with an 11-year-old boy, hailing a black London taxi.
The driver glanced at Dumbledore's attire, raised an eyebrow, and asked nothing.
What strange things haven't you seen in London?
Half an hour later, the taxi stopped in front of a seemingly ordinary, run-down bar.
...
Ethan followed Dumbledore through the Leaky Cauldron.
He noticed that everyone inside was looking at Dumbledore with a mixture of awe and curiosity. This old man seemed to be someone of great importance.
They arrived at a brick wall in the backyard.
"Remember this trash can," Dumbledore said, tapping three times on a brick in the wall with his long fingers. "Count up three bricks, then two bricks horizontally… this is it."
Then, a miracle happened.
The brick he struck began to shake violently, and then the entire wall seemed to come alive. The bricks slid and folded rapidly to both sides from the point of impact, eventually forming a wide archway.
Behind the door lay Diagon Alley—the very place Dumbledore had spoken of!
Ethan took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Before him stretched a winding, seemingly endless cobblestone street, lined with uniquely designed medieval buildings.
Owls circled overhead, and some shop windows displayed self-stirring cauldrons, crystal balls shimmering with ominous light, or heavy books floating in mid-air with pages turning automatically.
A strange mixture of smells filled the air: freshly tanned leather, strong herbs, and a sweet, pastry aroma.
At the end of the street stood a towering, snow-white Greek-style building—Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
That was their first stop.
Upon entering the bank, Ethan immediately noticed the sternly worded poem on the wall that sent chills down his spine. Its gist: Stealing? You're asking for death!
Guided by a goblin with a serious expression and shrewd eyes, the exchange process went exceptionally smoothly.
Ethan took out five thousand pounds and received a large, heavy bag of glittering Galleons, plus some silver Sickles and copper Knuts as change.
Listening to the coins clink in the bag, Ethan felt a sense of security he'd never experienced before.
The procurement journey had officially begun.
They went to Flourish and Blotts first, where Ethan bought all the first-year textbooks.
Next up was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
The store was clean and bright, with fabrics of various colors neatly stacked.
There were quite a few people; three or four young wizards of similar age were ahead of Ethan.
After waiting for a while, a kind-faced, plump witch—Madam Malkin—came to greet him personally.
Just like in the stories, a magical measuring tape flew onto him automatically and began measuring from top to bottom and inside to out.
It even tried to measure something more personal, but Ethan ruthlessly pushed it away with his hand.
Once the standard plain black Hogwarts robe style was determined, a perfectly fitting robe was delivered to him in no time—incredibly efficient.
Afterward, they visited other shops and bought a cauldron, a set of brass scales, dragon-hide gloves, and all sorts of strange and wonderful magical items.
As they passed Eeylops Owl Emporium, Dumbledore kindly reminded him, "Ethan, having an owl would be very convenient in the wizarding world, whether for delivering letters or receiving packages."
Ethan readily agreed and went inside.
As soon as he entered, a cacophony of sounds flooded his mind:
"Look at me! Look at me! My feathers are so smooth, I can deliver messages super fast!"
"Get away from me, you two-legged creature!"
"I'm hungry... When's dinner?"
Ethan was taken aback, then realized—[Language Mastery]! Even owl language counted?
If he spoke in human language, could they understand him?
It was understandable that Ethan had doubts; he hadn't seriously communicated with animals since gaining this ability. As for why he couldn't hear the fish talking while fishing?
Please—he was the king of "air fishing." He couldn't even catch a fish; one had pulled his rod away! Besides, did he even deserve any conversation lines?
He walked up to a tawny owl that looked kind and sturdy, and tentatively said, "Hello?"
The tawny owl glanced at him, then haughtily turned its head away, presenting its rear end—the meaning clear: "No thanks."
Undeterred, Ethan approached an exceptionally beautiful, pure white snowy owl and greeted it again: "Hello?"
This time there was a response! The snowy owl tilted its head and opened its beak, uttering a string of "Ge ha a? (What's up?)"
The intensely strong Northeastern accent completely stunned Ethan. (⊙_☉)
"Hey, big brother, where are you from? No... what kind of bird are you?"
Ethan subconsciously replied in the same dialect.
The snowy owl flapped its wings, seemingly intrigued: "Nah, I don't think so. My dad says our hometown is somewhere in Northeast China."
"What, why are you asking where I'm from? You taking me home? Let me tell you, I can't come for nothing—gotta give me some dried fish!"
Ethan was certain now: it wasn't that he couldn't understand; the last one was just aloof!
"Boss, this is the one!" Ethan decisively pointed to this "fellow Northeasterner" and said to the shop owner.
"It? Oh, 5 Galleons."
Ethan readily paid, picked up the cage containing "Old Eight," and found Dumbledore waiting patiently outside.
That's right—Ethan had named this snowy owl "Old Eight."
Dumbledore looked at the exceptionally spirited snowy owl in Ethan's hand and nodded with a smile.
Seeing that the school supplies were almost complete, he led Ethan to the last and most important stop of the trip—Ollivanders Wand Shop.