Two weeks flew by like they were two days, and why wouldn't they?

  During that period, Magnus hardly had any time to idle or even satisfy the many curiosities that pgued his mind upon finding himself in a fial world.

  Every single moment seemed to be reserved for something, down to the seds.

  On the bright side, his hard work had yielded a handsome amount of Galleons.

  In that period, he had amassed a hundred Galleons, and that was without including his inal forty-eight.

  That figure had, however, quickly fallen back to thirty Galleons by the st Friday of August. Just as he had anticipated, his shopping took quite a bit more than half of his savings.

  The shopping list was slightly simir to what he had seen in the films. I mean, there were robes, cauldrons, protective gloves, a pointed hat, and a wand—which happeo be among the most expeems on the list. It had cost him seven Galleons.

  Having been one of the things Magnus was most looking forward to buying, it fell quite short of his expectations.

  Maybe because, just like so many young wizards and witches ing from Muggle families, he had unrealistic expectations.

  I mean, Magnus already khey weren't allowed to do magic outside school, but... he had expected to at least feel a little bit special.

  Instead, it hadn't taken Ollivander more than five mio match him with a wand—a ten and three quarter inch vine wood wand with a dragostring core, slightly springy.

  "Quite on," Ollivander had said, but upon seeing the disappoi on Magnus's face, he had gone ahead to reassure him.

  "Wands do improve, just like their owners," he had said encingly.

  "Not once have I seen wizards like yourself rise to do amazis."

  Magnus khe man was just being modest. Still, he wasn’t really bothered; he would do incredible feats, all right—maybe just not with the wand.

  The books, too, included the usual lot, except for two notable exceptions. The book by Sder was now called Fantastic Beasts and Pokémon and Where to Find Them.

  That, and A Beginner's Guide to Training a Pokémon by the same author.

  Magnus's copy was at the top of his reading list, but due to the kind of weeks he had just had, he hadn't found the time to check it ih.

  However, based on what he had seen in the Pokémon battles, he was willing to wager that whatever the author had to say didn’t amount to much.

  I mean, if Charizard and Gyarados—two of the most powerful Pokémohat poorly trained, yet their handlers were in the most elite league in this world... well, that just went to show the ck of information.

  On the m of September 1st, he woke up way after the sun , feeling like he had been asleep fes. His body had already bee aced to rising early, so seeing the sun's rays hit him in bed felt like a crime.

  Tom had, however, excused him from any duties for three days now, giving him enough time to carry out his shopping a.

  It hadn't taken long for Tom to figure out that Magnus was just seeking a pce to stay until Hogwarts opehankfully, he wasn’t nosy about it.

  Magnus even found him to be good pany, making his stay more fun than he had anticipated.

  By now, Magnus had even bee well acquainted with many of the pub's frequent patrons, so much so that he ractically part of the pub. In fact, most people even assumed he was a retive of Tom's, and he never bothered to crify.

  That was not all, though. By now, Magnus had also entered most of Hogwarts' students and their parents, as well as many familiar faces from the Harry Potter world.

  I mean, the fact that the Leaky Cauldron was the entry to Diagon Alley ehat he would see those who entered a it—at least for those who didn’t Apparate.

  Just that week, as he helped Tom in the evenings, he had served Hermione and her parents, Harry and Hagrid, Neville and his gran, the Weasleys (twice), had even glimpsed the Malfoys as they left through the barrier, and tless other faces of Hogwarts students he had never known. Though he could hardly expect to know everyone.

  Lying there, listening to the hum and chatter of ers below that seeped into the room, Magnus was amazed. Just to think that a few weeks ago, he was roaming the streets of a different London, where no oher than a few of his fellow street kids even knew his name.

  A few nights ago, he wouldn’t have dared sleep this te. All the bins would have been bed through, and finding something to munch would have been a hell of a business.

  I mean, all the things that looked normal and obvious at the moment would have been a luxury he could only dream of. Indeed, it only took a blink for fate to turables.

  Speaking of breakfast, Magnus could smell the sweet aroma of freshly baked pumpkin pasties wafting up from the pub below. Throwing off his b, he rubbed his eyes and, with a hungry yawhe room.

  "I was almost thinking you expected me t you breakfast in bed," Tom jested, causing a roar of ughter among the several ers, many of whom Magnus was already familiar with.

  "’t have that now, we?" another older man interjected amidst the ughter.

  Magnus smiled as he called greetings befrabbing the mug of tea and a umpkin pasty, its fky crust still steaming.

  The versation lingered around him for a while before slowly drifting to other things. After his breakfast, Magnus helped Tom around the pub for the rest of the m, despite Tom insisting that he should be getting ready. There was, however, nothing else that Magnus could do. He had taken care of everything the previous day.

  Around ten, however, Magnus stood at the ter of the pub, shaking hands and saying goodbye to people he had hardly known for more than two weeks, but who now felt like the family he had never had.

  "He’ll be back soon enough," Tom was telling anyone who would listen, though it sounded like he was reassuring himself more tharons.

  "You be a good d, won’t you?" people called as Magnus carried his trunk to the barrier outside.

  There seemed to be a huge lump stu his throat as he turned his ba the pce that had given him a home for that brief period.

  Magnus khen that goodbyes were certainly not his stro attribute. But if all went acc to the pn that had begun taking shape in his head, he certainly would be back, just as Tom had said.

  For now, though... well, he was headed to the right pce. He could feel it—the pce where those pns would begin to take shape.

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