Chapter 63: 63: The New Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

Nolan's mood was currently in shambles. Not only did he have to remind the half-giant not to point at every Muggle thing he saw or loudly complain about cars that "almost hit him" (when it was clearly Hagrid who ignored traffic rules), but he also had to deal with the endless barrage of questions from the Boy Who Lived. "Nolan—can I call you Nolan? This is my first time in London! I saw record shops, burger joints, secondhand bookstores, but I didn't see a single shop selling wands!" "You said Gringotts holds the gold my parents left me, but where exactly do they store it? Underground?" "Flying broomsticks? Is that what you used last night to find me? Can they really fly? Can I try one too?" "Are all Hogwarts witches as pretty and cute as Miss Stock? Is that what they're like?" Annoyed beyond reason, Nolan bought two oversized hamburgers, shoving one into Harry's mouth and the other into Hagrid's, in the desperate hope that they'd stop talking. Harry Potter seemed thrilled, chewing on the burger with unrestrained joy, as though he'd never eaten anything so delicious—even if it was just cheap fast food. For Hagrid, however, the burger barely made an impact; he swallowed it in a few bites without much chewing. And so, with relative peace restored, the trio made their way to the Leaky Cauldron. "This here is the Leaky Cauldron," Hagrid said proudly, gesturing at the small, shabby pub. "A famous place for wizards. You'll only find our kind in here." "What about people who aren't wizards? I mean, Muggles. Why don't they come here?" Harry asked curiously. "Oh, that? Well, I reckon they don't like the name. You know how Muggles are—they like those weird, fancy names for their shops," Hagrid replied, waving the question off with a vague answer. Nolan sighed, rubbing his temples. "There's a Muggle-Repelling Charm cast on this pub. When Muggles try to enter, they suddenly remember some urgent matter and leave in a hurry." As if on cue, a young couple approached the Leaky Cauldron, seemingly intrigued by the pub. Before they could step inside, however, an argument broke out between them. The woman ended the fight with a slap that left a red handprint on the man's cheek before storming off in anger. Nolan smirked, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "Like that." Harry stared, utterly dumbfounded. After a moment, he murmured, "That's... really effective." The Leaky Cauldron was a grimy little place. Its patrons consisted of wrinkled old witches and balding wizards who entertained themselves by encouraging their pet toads to fight each other. The moment the trio entered, the chatter in the pub ceased abruptly. The barkeep, Tom, quickly shuffled over to greet them. "Hagrid! And this must be... oh, of course, the Slytherin prince himself, Mr. Von Draugr. We've heard so much about your exploits. What can I get for you today?" "Nothing for us, Tom," Hagrid said, his massive hand clapping Tom on the shoulder so hard it nearly sent the man to the floor. "We're here on Hogwarts business!" He sounded immensely proud as he said it. Tom glanced between Nolan and Harry, his eyes widening as realization dawned. "Oh my goodness... Could it be? Is this... the great Harry Potter? Welcome, Mr. Potter! Welcome!" And with that, the Leaky Cauldron hosted an impromptu fan meet-and-greet for Harry Potter. Nolan crossed his arms, leaning casually against the counter as he watched the spectacle unfold. He couldn't help but think that this so-called savior of the wizarding world might also be the youngest child star in all of Britain. Hagrid stood to the side, his eyes brimming with tears. To Nolan, the half-giant resembled a proud father overwhelmed by his son's fame. Wiping at his reddened eyes with a massive hand, Hagrid sniffled, "He's really something, isn't he?" Nolan, as indifferent as ever, replied, "Sure. Everyone wants to meet him—or, more accurately, his scar. Let's just hope Potter doesn't mind being less famous than his own forehead." As Harry Potter was being swept into a whirlwind of handshakes and praise, his head spinning from the surreal experience, a pale young man wrapped in a large turban stumbled toward them. His movements were jerky, his facial muscles twitching uncontrollably, and his hands trembled as though afflicted by a severe case of the jitters. When he finally managed to speak, his words came out in stutters: "P-P-Potter! It's s-s-so wonderful t-to m-meet you!" Hagrid beamed. "Oh, Harry, this here's Professor Quirrell! He's one of your professors at Hogwarts!" Nolan raised an eyebrow. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" Upon noticing Nolan, Quirrell's mouth formed a perfect "O." "Oh, M-M-Merlin! It's Von Draugr!" He shuffled nervously toward Nolan and began shaking his hand vigorously. "I-I'm taking over f-f-from Miss Draugr's p-position! I've heard s-s-she was a b-brilliant professor!" Nolan gave Quirrell a long, meaningful look before sighing. "Felicia certainly was brilliant. Whether she was suited for Defense Against the Dark Arts, though... I'm not so sure. Much like you, Professor Quirrell." "T-T-That's amazing, Von Draugr," Quirrell stammered, though Nolan couldn't tell what exactly he found so amazing. "I-I'm off to buy a n-n-new book about v-v-vampires. Perhaps we c-c-could talk sometime?" With a faint smile, Nolan narrowed his eyes and spoke slowly, each word deliberate. "Perhaps you wouldn't want to know more about vampires... not once you've truly met one. And dealt with him personally." Quirrell's nervous rambling came to an abrupt end. Without another word, he turned and fled, his footsteps uneven and hurried. Hagrid grabbed Harry, still dazed from all the attention, and guided him toward the back of the pub. As they walked, he said, "Poor Quirrell. He was a brilliant Slytherin in his day, clever as anything—just like Von Draugr here. Everyone thought he'd achieve great things. But then he went off to the Scottish Highlands, ran into vampires, and crossed paths with an old hag. He hasn't been the same since. Now he's scared of everything—even his own subject." Harry didn't seem to be listening. The young boy was staring at his right hand, the one that had been shaken by so many strangers. For someone who had never experienced kindness on such a scale, the attention was overwhelming. Hagrid let out a hearty laugh and clapped Harry on the back with such force that the boy nearly toppled over. "Told ya, didn't I, Harry? You're famous! Once we get to Hogwarts, it won't be Von Draugr who's the most famous student anymore—it'll be you!" Harry glanced at Nolan, his face lighting up with curiosity. "Are you really that famous too?" Nolan frowned slightly, lowering his voice. "I wouldn't say that. Fame isn't always a good thing, Harry. Not by a long shot." "Oh, nonsense, Von Draugr!" Hagrid interjected, laughing. "Fame's a great thing! Every young witch and wizard dreams of being famous!" With that, Hagrid tapped his battered pink umbrella against the wall of the Leaky Cauldron. The bricks shifted and rearranged themselves, revealing an arched doorway that led to a bustling street beyond. "Welcome," Hagrid announced grandly, gesturing toward the opening. "Welcome to Diagon Alley." ~~~---------------------- Patreon Advance Chapters: patreon .com / HPdreame