𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 - Harry Potter x Fem!Reader¹

4.. THE LEAKY CAULDRON

The next morning, Y/N was unexpectedly woken up by a sharp nip on her ear from Daniyar. The Eurasian eagle-owl clicked his beak, clearly eager to start the day. Y/N groaned, rubbing her eyes and stretching, still feeling the warmth of the cozy bed beneath her. The events of the previous day came rushing back to her — Fudge's strange leniency, her nervous arrival at the Leaky Cauldron, and the Potters' unexpected kindness. But now, as sunlight streamed through the window, the promise of a new day awaited her.

After freshening up and changing into clean clothes, Y/N made her way downstairs to the Leaky Cauldron's dining room. The scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling sausages greeted her as she entered.

The Potters were seated at a cozy table near the fireplace, waiting for her. Mrs. Potter, with her kind, welcoming smile, waved her over.

"Good morning, Y/N!" she said brightly. "Come join us. We've ordered breakfast."

"Good morning," replied Y/N, sliding into the seat beside Harry. Across the table, Mrs. Potter gave her a warm smile while Mr. Potter raised his teacup in greeting. Jonathan, Harry's younger brother, was too busy stuffing a crumpet into his mouth to offer much more than a muffled "Mornin'."

"We're glad you could join us, Y/N," Mrs. Potter said, handing her a plate of toast and eggs. "Help yourself to anything you like. Tom's always got plenty on offer."

"Thank you," Y/N said, feeling a little overwhelmed by the kindness. She picked up her fork, her eyes wandering curiously around the bustling room.

There were all sorts of colorful characters bustling about. Funny little witches from the countryside, dressed in mismatched, homespun cloaks, chattered excitedly as they prepared for a day of shopping in Diagon Alley. Their accents were thick, and they giggled as they passed a well-worn guidebook around the table. Nearby, two venerable-looking wizards were deep in conversation, their brows furrowed as they argued over the latest article in Transfiguration Today. One of them waved a gnarled hand dismissively, clearly unimpressed with the magazine's editorial choices, while the other seemed determined to defend every word.

A few tables over, Y/N spotted a group of wild-looking warlocks, their beards thick and scraggly, discussing something in low, gruff voices. She couldn't make out their words, but their expressions suggested they were plotting something mysterious. Raucous dwarfs sat beside them, laughing uproariously at a private joke, their deep voices booming through the room.

But the most curious sight of all was a suspicious figure that Y/N couldn't help but stare at. It looked like a hag, hunched and cloaked in a thick woolen balaclava that obscured most of its face. The figure ordered a plate of raw liver from the bar, and the waiter handed it over without batting an eye.

Y/N's fork hovered midair, her appetite waning as she watched the hag devour the liver with alarming enthusiasm. Harry noticed and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked.

Y/N leaned closer and whispered, "I think there's a hag over there, eating raw liver."

Harry glanced over and snorted. "Yeah, you get all sorts here. Tom doesn't mind as long as they pay. I once saw a goblin fist-fighting a dwarf for a raw eyeball."

"So," said Mrs. Potter, "Harry tells us you'll be joining him for a little shopping today?"

Y/N nodded, smiling shyly. "Yeah, I still need to get a few things for school, too."

"Brilliant," Mr. Potter chimed in. "Diagon Alley's the best place for it. We were thinking of popping into Sugarplum's Sweets Shop ourselves to visit an old friend, so maybe we'll see you there."