"Let's get going totts and exge some money. I tell you’re eager to see what you've got," Professonagall said, smiling knowingly.

  She had noticed Alex’s excitement and found it amusing. As they walked, Professonagall gave him a quick expnation.

  "Gringotts is the only wizarding bank in the UK. It’s run by goblins and is known as the sed safest p the world, after Hogwarts."

  Alex followed her through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley. The street soon split into two: oh led to Knockturn Alley, a darker, more sinister area, while the other tinued along the main road. Right at the interse stootts, a grand, gleaming white building with a goblin guard at the entrance, proudly dressed in a striking scarlet and gold uniform.

  They ehrough a rge set of bronze doors. The goblin guards bowed respectfully, and Alex couldn’t help but feel a bit out of pce. They passed through another set of silver doors aered a grand marble hall. The room buzzed with activity; goblins sat behind long ters, scribbling in enormous ledgers, weighing stacks of s, and examining glitteriohrough tiny eyepieces. Despite the chaos outside, the goblins seemed ued, calmly going about their business.

  Professonagall led Alex to one of the ters. He showed his Hogwarts admissioer, and after a brief versation, he received a bursary of 12 gold Galleo to help students who .

  Alex had po exge his pounds as well, so he took the bursary and added another 100 Galleons from his British pounds. For an eleven-year-old, it was a enormous sum, and his leather pouow felt satisfyingly heavy with the weight of gold.

  As they stepped outside, Alex examined one of the Galleons in his hand with curiosity. "It looks like pure gold, but it feels a bit different."

  "That’s because goblins made them," Professonagall expined. "They use special teiques and entments, making sure no one fe them outside the bank."

  She g Alex's gold-filled poud smiled. "I imagine you're eager to get your own wand now. In the wizarding world, you ’t do much without one."

  Alex nodded eagerly as they made their way to Ollivander’s, the famous wand shop with a long, mysterious history. The shop was small and a bit shabby, but it had an air of mystery about it. In the front window, a single wand y on a faded purple cushion, and i shelves were filled with narrow, dusty boxes stacked to the ceiling. Behind the ter, a thin old man was carefully polishing a wand. His pale eyes looked up as they entered.

  "Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander. We're here to buy a wand," Professonagall greeted him warmly.

  "Ah, Minerva," Ollivander said in a soft, raspy voice. "Nine and one-half inches, cold wood. I remember it well." He looked at Alex, his eyes narrowing with i. "Ah, a udent! Ready for your first wand?"

  "Hello, sir. My name is Alex Wilson."

  Ollivander gave a small smile. "Ah, polite young man—rare these days." He pulled out a long silver measuring tape. "Let’s find the right wand for you. Which hand do you use?"

  "My right hand," Alex replied.

  Ollivander measured him from shoulder to fiip, wrist to elbow, and even around his head. He hummed thoughtfully, feeling Alex’s arm. "Quite strong for ye. Impressive!"

  Alex tensed slightly, feeling a bit uneasy. ‘Isn’t he just supposed to measure me? Why’s he feeling my muscles?’

  Ollivander quickly pulled a wand from the shelf. "Try this one—ash, phoenix feather core, eleven and a half inches, quite sturdy."

  Alex took the wand and gave it a gentle wave. The tip sparked a small fme.

  "Hmm, no, that’s not quite right," Ollivander muttered, taking it bad handing him another. "Elm, dragostring core, nine and three-quarters inches. Wisdom and grace."

  The moment Alex touched it, Ollivander snatched it back. "No, not this oher."

  After a few more tries, Ollivander retrieved another box from the shelf, his eyes glinting with i.

  "Now, try this. Ebony, with a core of Augurey feathers, twelve and a quarter inches. Firm, unshakable. A wand for someoh great determination."

  As soon as Alex grasped it, he felt a strange e, like it was aension of his arm. The dark wood gleamed, and the tip flickered with a fairic light.

  Ollivander’s face lit up. "Ah, there it is. A perfect match. It’s always a joy when a wand finds its true owner."

  Alex smiled, giving the wand a gentle wave. The e felt natural, as if the wand was meant for him. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I really like it."

  "Ebony is excellent for bat magid transfiguration. This wand will serve you well. Remember, your first wand is priced at seven Galleons, and the rest is covered by Hogwarts. Be careful with it—wands are irrepceable once bonded."

  Alex paid the gold, thanked Ollivander again, ahe shop with Professonagall. His heart raced with excitement as they walked down Diagon Alley. He finally had his own wand, and the magical world felt even more real now.

  "Alright, Alex, we spent a bit of time on the wand. We o hurry ahe rest of your school supplies," Professonagall said, gng at the sky as evening approached.

  "Got it, Professor," Alex replied, eager to tinue.

  With Professonagall by his side, they moved between shops across Diagon Alley. At the Transf Ink Stationery Store, Alex bought part, ink, and a few quills. Then they went to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, where he was fitted for his Hogwarts uniform. was the Potage Cauldron Shop for a standard pewter cauldron, followed by Blossom Bookstore to pick up a full set of textbooks.

  Alex also stopped at the Magical Menagerie, where he bought an owl—a lively creature with bright eyes—and supplies to take care of it. He felt surprisingly happy with the owl, sensing it would be a good panion.

  By the time they finished shopping, the sun was setting, casting long shadows over the street.