The Empty Chamber (Harry Potter Next Generation Fanfiction)

Chapter Two: Alice

Diagon Alley was like no place else on Earth. Alice couldn't believe that such a street coexisted with the realm of public school, Parliament, and other mundane (muggle, she reminded herself) things.  Maybe it didn't - at this point Alice would believe anything.

The road Alice stood on was narrow and cobbled, and seemed to meander on forever without any sort of pattern. Each individual store was fashioned differently from its neighbor; one shop with a sign boasting Madame Milkin's Robes for All Occasions offered massive windows full of different styles of sweeping black robes, and yet right next door was a dark green shop that seemed to be caving in on itself, called Flourish and Blotts.

Just like the stores, the wizards and witches of Diagon Alley were individual, and often far past the point of being bizarre. Standing beside a plump old lady with a cat on her shoulder was a towering young man with long black hair and scars that appeared to be claw marks. Rushing from up behind them was a mustached wizard so short that his his eyes were level only with the very bottom row of window panes of each store that he passed. None of these people were gawked at, rather, it seemed that individuality was expected here. This stood in particularly stark contrast to the London they had just left behind, where conformity was the unspoken law.

Diagon Alley was exactly where Alice could expect an adventure to begin. Owls swooped overhead. Street vendors offered self-spell-checking quills and shouted prices. Friends spoke and the air buzzed with what must have been magic. Magic; actual magic.

Never in her life had Alice been somewhere that felt so unlike her own home, and yet she longed to join this constant whir of epic everyday life she was submerged in.

"Is that a broomstick?" her mother asked, pointing at a window ahead of them. Yes, that's definitely a broomstick on display, Alice thought to herself, and it looks like its floating! The broom was being sold at a store called Quality Quidditch Supplies, which seemed to be a popular spot.

"What's Quidditch?" Alice muttered to herself.

"Well," Mrs. Beck abruptly stepped forward. "What's the first stop on your list?"

"Professor McGonagall," Alice said with a new sense of importance, for she was witnessing proof she was not delusional, and she must truly be a witch, "left on this note that we should visit Gringotts first. It says Gringotts is the wizard bank. We have to exchange our currency into witch money." Her mother looked at her, bewildered. She hadn't considered that her pounds wouldn't get her far in Diagon Alley. "Follow me," Alice said, clutching a map McGonagall had given her, "Gringotts is this way."

Everything managed to catch Alice's eye on their walk to Gringotts. The street was alive with flashing lights, moving pocket-sized dragon replicas, odd sounding potion ingredients (lizard eyes, 2 Sickles a handful), and astronomical charts. She was almost disappointed when they reached their destination.

Gringotts stood tall above the rest of Diagon Alley, with a dome shaped roof and white marble walls. The front door opened and closed constantly as people came in and out, going about their daily business. Full of curiosity, she eagerly joined the masses and entered.

The inside of Gringotts was more stunning than the exterior; massive crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and everything that was neither white nor crystal was made of a dark green marble. The entry corridor was long, and at the end was the largest of many counters, all of which were operated by, well, Alice couldn't quite tell. These bank tellers were definitely not human.

The creatures were short, with thick and wrinkled skin, and long noses and fingers that curved like fishing hooks. Their eyes were dark and unreadable, but their faces were clever.