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Chapter 700: The Grangers at the Leaky Cauldron
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 11:33:01 +0000 UTCAfter breakfast, the Weasley children made their way to Diagon Alley. As one of the busiest hubs in the British wizarding world, the Ministry of Magic had enforced the strictest security measures. At least three Aurors were stationed at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, diligently monitoring the witches and wizards entering and leaving the establishment.
Anyone attempting to pass through the back alley had to undergo a Revelio Charm test to ensure they weren’t Death Eaters disguised with Polyjuice Potion. While some grumbled about the inconvenience, the majority appreciated the extra precautions, feeling reassured by the heightened security.
Many witches and wizards had even taken to booking long-term accommodations at the Leaky Cauldron, moving their entire families into its rooms. The inn was perpetually full, and Old Tom, the barkeeper, had never seen better business. He was often seen grinning from ear to ear, proudly telling anyone who’d listen that the Ministry finally had a competent Junior Assistant to the Minister for Magic.
Yes, the decision to fortify Diagon Alley’s entrance had been Kyle’s idea, as outlined in a pamphlet he had written.
When the Weasley family arrived, Cho and Hermione were already there.
“I just need a room...” Hermione was saying to the barkeeper. “It doesn’t matter how big it is, and I can pay in advance.”
“I’m sorry, Miss,” Old Tom replied without looking up. “As I’ve already explained, I don’t have a single room available. If you’re willing to wait, something might open up in September.”
“But I’ll be at Hogwarts in September, so booking a room then won’t help!” Hermione protested.
“Can’t help you there,” Tom said, glancing up at her. “You might try asking someone if they’d give up their room.”
“What are you all up to?” Fred asked as he walked over.
“Hermione’s trying to rent a room,” Cho explained, “but it seems we’re too late.”
“You want to stay here?” George asked, surprised.
“It was just an idea,” Hermione sighed. “You’ve read the safety booklet, haven’t you?”
“Ah, yes,” Fred nodded.
“That’s why,” Hermione continued. “My parents are both Muggles, and with Dementors lurking everywhere, it’s too dangerous. Just the other day, there was an attack near my dad’s workplace. The news claimed a man had gone mad from shock, but I know for a fact it was the Dementors.”
“So you’re looking for somewhere safer?” Fred asked.
“Exactly,” Hermione sighed again. “I finally convinced my dad to temporarily close his dental practice, but I didn’t realize the Leaky Cauldron was fully booked.”
“Hmmm...” George murmured, considering the situation.
If it were just Hermione staying, they could easily arrange something at 12 Grimmauld Place or even above their shop. But accommodating the entire Granger family was more complicated.
As they pondered, a familiar voice spoke from behind them.
“What are you doing here? Long time no see, Cho, Hermione...”
Turning around, George saw Kyle and Cedric approaching.
“Isn’t it work time?” George asked. “Why aren’t you at the Ministry?”
“Who says you have to be at the office to work?” Kyle retorted with a grin. “We had something to take care of. What about you lot?”
“It’s Hermione,” Fred explained. “She’s looking to rent a room for her parents here, but the place is full. Good thing you’re here—maybe you can come up with an alternative.”
“It’s mainly because of the Dementors,” Hermione added quickly. “The gray mist has been thickening lately, and I’m worried they’ll show up near our neighborhood. But they wouldn’t come to Diagon Alley, would they?”
“It’s unlikely but not impossible,” Kyle replied, glancing at Old Tom. He was about to make an inquiry—they had a friendly rapport, thanks to a previous odd favor involving a rubbish bin—but before he could, Tom preemptively spoke up.
“There’s one more room on the third floor,” Tom said, smiling. “A double deluxe room. It’s one Galleon and ten Sickles a night.”
“Wait,” Hermione interjected, hurrying over. “Didn’t you just say there weren’t any rooms?”
“That’s right,” Tom said, his grin widening, “but I kept this one reserved for special cases. Since you’re friends with Kyle, I’ll let you have it. What do you say?”
Hermione hesitated, frowning.
One Galleon and ten Sickles per night... It was steep. Staying there for a whole month would burn through most of her savings, leaving little for textbooks and potion supplies—both of which were essential, especially with all the new sixth-year requirements.
But the next second, Hermione gritted her teeth and said, “I’ll take it.”
Then, looking a little embarrassed, she turned to Kyle. “Can you lend me some money?”
“Of course, no problem,” Kyle said casually.
Hermione did some quick mental math before replying, “Fifty Galleons.”
“Okay.” Kyle nodded, taking out fifty Galleons and handing them to her without hesitation.
“Thank you,” Hermione said earnestly. “I’ll definitely pay you back as soon as I can.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle replied, waving her concern away. Then, glancing around, he lowered his voice. “But I should tell you, the Ministry’s next big task is to deal with the Dementors. I suggest you don’t rent for too long at first.”
“Really?” Hermione’s eyes lit up at the news.
“If all goes well, yes,” Kyle shrugged. “But it won’t be resolved overnight. I’d recommend renting for a month and reassessing after that.”
“Okay,” Hermione said firmly. She then turned to Old Tom and checked in for the room.
“Follow me,” Tom said, stepping out from behind the bar and opening a door to a narrow staircase at the back. He began leading Hermione upstairs.
In a corner of the pub, a couple exchanged hesitant glances before finally deciding to follow. They were the Grangers, Hermione’s parents.
Although this wasn’t their first time in Diagon Alley, they had always been accompanied by Hermione before. Without her by their side, the wizarding environment made them feel uneasy. Hermione had told them about the prejudice some wizards held against non-magical people like themselves, which made them wary.
After a brief hesitation, they followed Hermione upstairs.
Mr. Granger bent down to pick up the heavy suitcase they’d brought along, but just as he touched it, the suitcase floated into the air. Startled, he looked up, expecting to see Hermione casting a spell. Instead, he saw a boy standing in front of him.
It was Kyle, Hermione’s classmate. Mr. Granger recognized him vaguely—he had seen Kyle in Diagon Alley before, though not as often as the two boys named Harry and Ron. Hermione had mentioned Kyle in the past, describing him as an excellent student, one of the best at Hogwarts. She had even declared she’d surpass him in grades, though those kinds of remarks had stopped over the past couple of years.
Mr. Granger also had the distinct impression that Kyle’s presence had played a role in Old Tom’s sudden change of heart about the room availability. Though he wasn’t a wizard, Mr. Granger knew that some dynamics between people—wizard or Muggle—were universal.
“Thank you, young man. You must be Kyle...” Mr. Granger said, offering a polite greeting. “A classmate of Hermione’s?”
“Sort of,” Kyle nodded. “I’m a year ahead of her. Let me help you with the luggage. The stairs here can be tricky if you’re not used to them.”
“Tricky... stairs?” Mr. Granger echoed, puzzled. He couldn’t quite imagine how stairs could be tricky, but considering this was a wizarding establishment, he supposed it made sense.
“Thank you,” he said again.
“You’re welcome.” Kyle began leading the way up the stairs, the floating suitcase following him. The Grangers trailed carefully behind.
The Leaky Cauldron’s staircase was made of old, weathered wood. Like the floor below, it was covered in layers of grey dust that had accumulated over years, obscuring its original color.
When they reached the second floor, Mr. Granger finally understood what Kyle had meant by tricky stairs.
The steps in front of him suddenly split apart down the middle, transforming in an instant into a gaping mouth filled with sharp, menacing teeth. The snarling maw snapped aggressively, as if warning them to tread carefully.
Kyle didn’t hesitate for a moment. He stepped firmly on the snarling staircase, stomping on the fanged maw with practiced ease. The mouth closed immediately, retreating back into the wooden steps as though it had never existed.
“This is it,” Kyle said, stepping forward a few paces before turning back to the Grangers. “Just think of it as the wizarding world’s version of a pet dog. The solution is simple: don’t try to avoid it, just step on it, and you’ll be fine.”
The Granger couple paused, staring at the re-emerged mouth bristling with sharp teeth. Despite Kyle’s reassurances, they hesitated, unnerved by the thought of stepping on something that looked so capable of taking a bite out of them.
If they’d known that the wizarding pub would present dangers like this, they might have reconsidered leaving home. The strange mist-spreading creatures might not have found them there. Still, they were here now, and their room was ready. Turning back wasn’t an option.
Mr. Granger inhaled deeply, steeling himself. Gritting his teeth, he raised his foot and brought it down firmly on the snarling mouth. To his relief, it didn’t hurt at all; the step felt soft, like stepping on a plush cushion.
Encouraged by her husband’s success, Mrs. Granger followed suit, stepping carefully but firmly over the “tricky” stairs.
“Magic really is amazing,” Mrs. Granger remarked, shaking her head. “But it’s a bit too dangerous for my taste. That soul-sucking creature left Hermione so on edge for days, we even wondered if we should pull her out of school.”
“Hermione would never agree to that,” Mr. Granger replied.
“Soul-sucking creature?” Kyle interjected, pondering for a moment. “You mean Dementors, I assume?”
“Yes, that’s the name!” Mr. Granger confirmed. “Hermione said the dark mist in the sky was their doing. Just the other day, someone collapsed near my office, and Hermione told us it was caused by one of those monsters.”
“At the time, the police were everywhere, and they even closed off the street. Because of it, several of my patients canceled their appointments for the day.”
They continued their conversation as they climbed the stairs. By the time they reached the third floor, they ran into Hermione, who looked surprised to see them.
“Dad, why are you here?” Hermione asked, glancing at her parents. “Your room is ready—I was just about to come get you.”
“No need,” Mr. Granger said, smiling. “Kyle brought us here.”
Looking around at the hallway, he added, “So this is where wizards live? It’s certainly eye-opening.”
During their short walk, Mr. Granger had witnessed a staircase that could bite, a portrait that held a lively conversation, and a set of decorative armor that appeared to be self-oiling. The sheer strangeness of it all had overturned the quiet, orderly world he’d lived in for decades. For the first time, he thought staying here for a while might not be such a bad idea.
“Thank you, Kyle,” Hermione said gratefully. “I wanted to get everything sorted before I brought them up.”
“It’s nothing,” Kyle replied with a dismissive wave. “How’s the room?”
“It’s great,” Hermione said. “It reminds me of the dormitories at school—not too big, but it’s more than enough for them.”
“Glad to hear it,” Kyle said with a nod. “By the way, I had a question for you.”
“What is it?”
“I heard from your dad that Dementors were seen near your house?”
“I think so,” Hermione replied. “Not far from where my father works, someone was attacked by one. Honestly, if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have brought them here.”
“And where exactly is this?” Kyle asked.
“Hertfordshire…” Hermione recited a series of addresses before showing Mr. and Mrs. Granger to their room.
The room had a more traditional feel, and Mr. Granger’s attention was drawn to a faded cabinet by the door.
“I’d say it’s at least 200 years old,” he remarked.
“It could be even older,” Hermione replied. “The Leaky Cauldron was established in the 16th century, and wizards rarely update their furniture.”
“That must have been expensive,” Mr. Granger said, frowning. “Do you have enough wizard money? Do they even accept pounds?”
“Definitely not, but I’ve got more than enough.” Hermione pulled out a jingling bag and waved it lightly. “See? I still have plenty left.”
Mr. Granger looked relieved, but his attention soon shifted to a stack of newspapers on the table. He stared in surprise as the people in the photographs moved, as if on a television screen.
“Oh, that’s The Daily Prophet,” Hermione explained. “It’s the wizarding newspaper, and the photos move because they’re developed with a special solution.”
“You never mentioned wizards had newspapers before,” Mr. Granger said, his tone carrying a faint hint of reproach.
Hermione said nothing. She hadn’t told her parents about The Daily Prophet because she didn’t want to burden them with additional concerns. But now that they were living in Diagon Alley, such details were unavoidable.
Curious, Mr. Granger picked up a newspaper and began reading. His gaze froze suddenly.
“Hermione, is this person Kyle’s father? He has the same name.”
“What?” Hermione leaned over to look. “No, that’s Kyle.”
“No way,” Mr. Granger said skeptically, scanning the article. “It says here he’s the Senior Assistant to the Minister for Magic… but Kyle’s just a student, isn’t he?”
“Oh, he was exceptionally appointed—the youngest Senior Assistant,” Hermione explained briefly.
Mr. Granger was speechless. As far as he understood, the Minister for Magic was the wizarding equivalent of a Prime Minister. A seventeen-year-old as Senior Assistant to the Minister?
Even with his worldly experience, he found the idea astonishing.
No wonder the bar owner’s demeanor had shifted so drastically.
Intrigued, Mr. Granger delved deeper into the newspaper, his interest piqued by this strange new world.
Meanwhile, Hermione helped Mrs. Granger unpack, glancing occasionally at the clock.
“Mum, I have some errands to run later, so I’ll need to leave soon,” Hermione said.
Mrs. Granger nodded.
At the door, Hermione turned back to give final instructions. “You can go downstairs to the pub for dinner or have it delivered here. And if you feel like exploring, you can head out to Diagon Alley.”
“Is that okay?” Mr. Granger asked, looking up from the paper. “We don’t know any magic.”
“That’s fine,” Hermione assured him. “It’s not uncommon for parents of students to visit here. Just follow a wizard to get in.”
“Oh, and take this.” She placed a few Galleons on the table. “If you see anything you like, you can buy it.”
“No, you keep it,” Mr. Granger said, patting his pocket. “If we need anything, we can exchange some pounds at that wizard bank.”
Hermione shook her head. “Just use this for now. I’ll exchange more later.”
With another glance at the time, she quickly dashed out of the room.
