Boom!
A violent explosion tore through the rear wall of the Leaky Cauldron. The brickwork that hid the passage to Diagon Alley burst outward in a cloud of dust and shattered stone, leaving a wide, jagged hole where the magical entrance had been moments before.
Wizards in Diagon Alley jumped in fright as the blast rang through the street. Several people nearby were caught in the rolling cloud of dust, coughing and stumbling back with their robes turned grey. Shopkeepers leaned out of doorways, owls shrieked from cages, and half the alley seemed to freeze at once.
"Oh! What happened? Merlin!" a witch cried, clutching her hat as if the explosion might snatch it away.
"Merlin's socks, the Leaky Cauldron wall's been blown apart!" another wizard shouted. He stared at the ruined opening as though expecting something worse to come through it.
"Merlin's beard, is this an attack?" someone else gasped, already backing away from the pub.
Tyler was long gone. The moment the wall exploded, he had Disapparated, leaving behind nothing but dust, panic, and a room full of terrified witnesses.
Inside the Leaky Cauldron, the damage looked even worse. Broken tables and chairs lay scattered across the floor, spilled butterbeer ran between the floorboards, and several witches and wizards had collapsed where they stood, too frightened to get up at once.
"Oh," one wizard whispered shakily. "Is he gone? That Dark wizard—is he gone?"
"Thank Merlin," another said, pressing a hand to his chest. "That lunatic finally left."
"Merlin's smelly feet, what are the Ministry Aurors even doing?" a red-faced wizard snapped, fear quickly turning into anger now that the immediate danger had passed. "Why haven't they arrived yet?"
The pub had not seen anything like this in years. Since the end of the First Wizarding War, most people had allowed themselves to believe that open violence in public places belonged to the past. A wizard attacking in broad daylight, throwing curses around, and using an Unforgivable Curse in front of witnesses felt like a nightmare that should have ended with Voldemort's disappearance.
What made it worse was the complete absence of the Ministry. The Aurors were always too late, always arriving after the danger had already passed, and several frightened customers were already muttering that Minister Cornelius Fudge ought to apologize and resign. In that moment, even people who normally ignored politics found it very easy to blame the Ministry for everything.
"Hagrid, are you all right?" Harry asked anxiously.
He stood beside the half-giant, still pale from the attack. Hagrid was the first person who had ever treated him with such open kindness, and watching him get blasted through the pub had shaken Harry more than he wanted to admit.
"Oh, I'm fine, Harry," Hagrid said, brushing dust and splinters from his coat as he pushed himself upright. He gave a rough little laugh and patted his chest with one huge hand. "Big fellows like me are thick-skinned. Takes more than that to do me in."
He looked down at Harry immediately afterward, worry replacing his forced cheer. "What about you, Harry? You're not hurt, are yeh?"
"I'm fine," Harry said, shaking his head. His eyes still drifted toward the hole in the wall and the path where the black-robed man had disappeared. "But Hagrid, who was that person? Why did he attack you and Professor Quirrell?"
Harry looked utterly confused. This was his first real day in the wizarding world, the first day he had stepped into the place he was supposedly meant to belong, and already he had witnessed an attack that left the pub in ruins. The warmth of his earlier welcome had been covered by something cold and uneasy.
"How should I know?" Hagrid grumbled. He rubbed his shoulder, his face dark with anger. "Must've been some madman. Maybe an evil Dark wizard Professor Quirrell managed to provoke somewhere."
"That cursed villain will be locked up in Azkaban when the Ministry catches him," Hagrid said loudly. Then he seemed to remember Harry was still beside him and shut his mouth at once, looking a little guilty.
"Oh, sorry, Harry," Hagrid said, softening his voice. "You got dragged into a nasty bit of trouble on your very first day back in the wizarding world."
He shifted awkwardly, clearly worried that the whole thing had ruined Harry's first impression. "But listen, Harry, the wizarding world's peaceful now. Most folk are decent. Don't let one bad wizard make you think the whole place is like that."
"Of course," Harry said after a moment. His voice was quiet, but there was a steadiness in it that surprised even him. "There are bad people everywhere, but there are good people too."
He thought of the Dursleys, of cupboards and insults and Dudley's fists. Then he thought of Hagrid, who had broken down a door to find him, bought him food, told him the truth, and stood in front of him without hesitation. The black-robed stranger had been frightening, but Harry already knew the world was never made of only one kind of person.
"The Leaky Cauldron is the entrance to Diagon Alley, Mr. Granger, Miss Granger," a stern female voice was saying outside the main door. "Wizards usually enter Diagon Alley through here."
The door opened again, and three figures stepped into the pub. The first was an older witch in a pointed hat and green robes, her posture straight and dignified. She was Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Behind her came a middle-aged man in a neat Muggle suit, followed closely by a little girl with bushy brown hair. The man looked curious but cautious, while the girl's eyes were bright with the nervous excitement of someone trying to memorize everything around her.
"Oh!" Professor McGonagall stopped dead the moment she saw the state of the Leaky Cauldron. Her sharp eyes swept over the broken furniture, the frightened customers, and the great hole blasted through the rear wall. "Merlin's beard, what on earth happened here?"
"Professor McGonagall," Mr. Granger said slowly, staring around the wrecked pub with growing concern. "What exactly is going on?"
He had accepted, with some difficulty, that his daughter was a witch. He had even been willing to follow a professor into a hidden magical world to buy school supplies. But stepping into what looked like the aftermath of a violent brawl was not exactly reassuring.
If the wizarding world was this dangerous, he would have to seriously reconsider whether sending Hermione to Hogwarts was a good idea. Magic was fascinating, certainly, but no parent wanted their child walking into a school connected to places where walls exploded before lunch.
"Hagrid," Professor McGonagall said, spotting the half-giant among the wreckage. Her face tightened, and she strode toward him at once. "What happened here?"
"Oh, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said, sounding relieved to see her. "I came to pick up Harry, but we were attacked here in the Leaky Cauldron by an evil Dark wizard."
He glanced toward the corner where Quirrell had been, then lowered his voice slightly. "I suspect that Dark wizard may have been provoked by Professor Quirrell somehow. He attacked me and Professor Quirrell, but thankfully Harry's all right."
"Oh!" Professor McGonagall went pale at once. "Harry, are you hurt?"
She hurried to Harry and looked him over with open alarm, her stern expression cracking under real fear. For a moment, she seemed less like a professor and more like someone who had just imagined exactly what might have happened if the attack had gone worse.
"I'm fine," Harry said quickly. "Thank you for asking."
He looked up at Hagrid, unsure who the witch was or why she seemed so worried about him. Hagrid noticed and quickly stepped in.
"Harry, this is Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said. "She's the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts, your Transfiguration professor, and if you're sorted into Gryffindor, she'll be your Head of House."
"Never mind that for now," Professor McGonagall said sharply. Her gaze moved between Harry and Hagrid, still full of concern. "Hagrid, you and Harry should go to the Hogwarts hospital wing for a check-up, or to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."
She turned toward the ruined wall again, her mouth thinning into a hard line. "And where is the Dark wizard now?"
"I'm fine, and Harry wasn't hurt," Hagrid said stubbornly. "We don't need hospital. As for the Dark wizard, he disappeared after blasting open the wall leading into Diagon Alley."
His anger flared again as he looked toward the entrance of the pub. "And why haven't the Ministry Aurors arrived yet? It's been ages!"
"Oh! Sorry we're late," a deep voice called from the doorway. "What happened here?"
A team of Aurors finally entered the Leaky Cauldron. They wore serious expressions and carried themselves with the alert caution of people arriving at a scene that had already gone very wrong. At the front were Kingsley Shacklebolt and Dawlish.
"You're finally here!" one wizard shouted before the Aurors could ask anything else. "You came very quickly, didn't you? The Dark wizard who attacked us has been gone for ages."
"What does the Ministry of Magic even do?" another customer snapped. "Cornelius Fudge should apologize and step down."
A wizard who had been knocked unconscious earlier pushed himself up unsteadily, his face flushed with outrage. "That Dark wizard stole my wand. You have to help me get it back. That wand has been with me for thirty years."
.....
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