It was a good thing that Brian hadn’t wasted all of his summer earnings on pizza, DVDs, and amusement parks. He’d been setting aside some for the school year. The money had been put in the bank with thoughts of getting a limo for Homecoming or doing something fun for spring break.

He hadn’t realized he’d be applying for a last minute passport and buying a flight to England. Seriously, Qbeus couldn’t lend him his motorcycle? Airfare wasn’t cheap. And what did someone pack when going to Hogwarts?

Then he’d had to say goodbye to his (adopted) parents, promising he’d write. Apparently, they’d been planning to tell them about the adoption when he was eighteen. And they’d really thought that the man—an elderly fellow with purple robes—was joking about the whole “wizard world” thing. Well, not so much joking as… crazy. But they’d wanted a child so badly, they hadn’t questioned the, so they thought, delusional person who gave them one.

Now, Brian was standing on a street corner in London. When he’d landed in the country, he’d half expected everyone to be carrying wands. But they seemed as normal as the people he’d always been surrounded by.

Q had left special instructions for where to buy his school supplies. He walked into a shabby looking pub called The Leaky Cauldron and then around back, to where the doorway was supposed to be. Brian wondered why regular people didn’t notice Diagon Alley. If there was really a place to purchase wands and magic books, with people walking about in robes, wouldn’t the British notice? But he soon got his answer. There was no doorway, just a brick wall. And come to think of it, Brian had had the oddest feeling that he’d been the only one able to see The Leaky Cauldron, too. People had passed by as if it didn’t exist. Well now what?

Maybe this was his first magical test. He looked at Q’s directions again. Brian had followed them right. This was where the doorway should be. Alright, Brian. What would a wizard do?

He cleared his throat. “Abracadabra!”

Nothing happened. Then he heard a noise. Was a door appearing?

No, it turned out to be laughter. “Abracadabra? Surely you aren’t serious?”

Brian turned around to see a man wearing long green robes, a wand in his right hand. Brian felt embarrassed and couldn’t think of an answer.

The man shook his head, still laughing. “I suppose you’ll try to pull a rabbit out of a hat next?” With a chuckle, the man strode past Brian and touched the bricks in a pattern.

A rumbling started, and Brian took several steps back as the bricks began to twist and turn. Behind them stood a street, full of shops and shoppers. It was like another world hidden within London. Brian couldn’t believe his eyes. He hurried through before the bricks decided to move back into place.

The street was normal in an abnormal sort of way. There were couples, families, and friends shopping together, just like you would find in any other part of London. But upon closer inspection, you could see that these people weren’t ordinary.

There was the mother, hands carrying multiple bags, calling to her small boy to come back. He continued to run down the pebbled street. Instead of chasing after him, she simply pulled out her wand. The little boy stumbled backwards, as if an imaginary hand had grabbed his hood. He was “pulled” back to his stern looking mother.

Brian pulled out his list. Where to start? The books would be heavy to carry, so he supposed he should buy robes first. Which is exactly what he did. Well, what he tried to do. When it came to paying, the witch who had fitted him for his robes gave him a strange look.

Looking down at the money he was trying to hand her, Brian couldn’t understand the problem. Before he’d left Heathrow airport, he had exchanged his American dollars for British pounds.

“I’m sorry,” the witch said. “We don’t accept that kind of money here.”

“What? Then what do you take?” Brian demanded.

She looked at him like a nurse does a mental patient and spoke in a babying voice. “Wizard money. From Gringotts Bank.”

There was so much to learn. Brian headed to the bank and almost screamed in surprise when he stepped inside. Were those goblins? Brian had to wait until his heart had stopped beating so quickly before stepping up to a counter.

“Excuse me,” he said.

A small goblin- for surely that’s what they were- looked up from his paperwork, an annoyed expression etched on his face. His long fingers set down the quill.

“I need to exchange some pounds for… wizard money.” Brian wondered what the exchange rate was. The one conversion had already killed his wallet, since the American dollar was worth crap. Would he be going to Howarts penniless after this new switch?

The goblin’s dark eyes widened. “We do not exchange.”

“What? Then how do I get wizard money?”

“You retrieve it from your vault. Do you have your number?”

Brian stared at him, clueless. “Um… no.”

Now the goblin looked completely aggravated. Brian imagined that, if he was anything like storybooks painted his kind to be, this goblin had quite a temper. “What is your name?”

“Brian Thomas Potter,” Brian said, knowing this would do no good. He certainly didn’t have a “vault” here.

The goblin surely would’ve raised an eyebrow had he one to raise. “You wizards are all the same, trying to belittle our intelligence. I was not born yesterday, Mr. Whoever-You-Are. Do I need to call security?”

“What? No. You asked my name, and I told you,” Brian was confused.

“Do you know how many have come in here, claiming to be Mr. Potter?” The goblin’s hand moved to under the counter where, Brian assumed, there was some sort of alarm to sound. “I trust you know the way out.”

Brian opened his mouth, but no words came out. Seeing that he was not going to get anywhere with this goblin, Brian turned to leave. Just then, the huge gate from behind the goblin opened, as another walked out. Did that doorway lead to the vaults? All he could see was darkness, but the wind howled as the goblin, with some effort, pushed the door shut again.

The first goblin, Brian realized, was now staring at his forehead.

“Your scar,” the goblin pointed.

Brian assumed that the breeze had blown his hair out of the way, revealing the scar he’d had for as far back as he could remember. Why did the goblin look so entranced? It was unique, sure, but especially compared to everything else Brian had seen in Diagon Alley, a scar was trivial.

“One moment, Mr. Potter, and I shall retrieve your information.” The little creature disappeared from sight behind the high counter as he hopped off the stool.

Well that was certainly strange. In a way, this was the strangest thing that had happened to Brian thus far since being told he was a wizard. Sure, everything was unbelievable but in a believable way. In this instance, the answer didn’t lie in the fact that this was, simply put, the wizard world. The goblin had reacted to his name specifically.

Who would come here to pretend to be him? Why?

He only had a moment to ponder these thoughts, for the goblin hurried back to him and was soon loading him into what reminded him of a mine cart. The rails were small and rickety. Brian’s voice caught in his throat, preventing a scream, as the two of him soared down a hill, deeper and deeper down what appeared to be caverns. This was a bank?

Soon, they reached Brian’s vault. The goblin traced a design on the door, which reminded Brian of how to get into Diagon Alley. It swung open, and Brian followed the goblin, having no idea what to expect.

There had to be some sort of mistake. Even in this magical realm, this had to be a lot of money. Brian was facing mounds of coins. He didn’t recognized what they were specifically, but the sheer volume was impressive. Brian took the bag that the goblin handed him and filled it with the different kinds of these coins, hoping that it would be enough to purchase all of his supplies.

It was more than enough. Not only did the witch give him his robes without looking at him like was crazy, she was kind enough to tell him about “nuts,” “sickles,” and… something else. There was only so much new information Brian could take in at a time, after all.

As he was leaving the bookstore- Flourish&Blotts the sign read- his hands were full of his heavy schoolbooks. He was too busy trying to get out the door that he didn’t see that anyone was trying to get in. Brian collided with another boy, his bags dropping to the ground.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Sorry?” the other boy, who looked to be about his age, rounded on him. “Is that all you have to say to me?” He was tall and thin, with a mop of curly blond hair on his head.

“Yes?” Brian answered, not knowing what else to respond with. What if the boy grabbed his wand and performed a spell on him?

Unfortunately, the wizard took Brian’s answer as sarcasm and did just that. “You going to duel me?” he challenged.

Brian shook his head. “I- I don’t know any magic.”

The blonde wizard stared, and then preceded to laugh. “A Squib! Didn’t think they allowed your kind in Diagon Alley.”

Brian didn’t know was a “squib” was, but he knew it couldn’t be a good thing. Luckily, the mocking laughter caused him to lower his wand from Brian’s face.

“Not much better than a muggle, are you?” he sneered, kicking one of Brian’s bags and causing some books to spill out. He set off down the street, still laughing at Brian’s expense.

Brian collected his purchases and decided that his next stop would be to buy a wand of his own. Hoping that he never saw that boy again, Brian set off to see a man named Ollivander and then head back to the hotel and try to get some sleep tonight. It had been a long day. And he left for Hogwarts in the morning.