“Poofing sure is convenient.” Still clinging to Mr. O'Sullivan's arm, Thomas mumbled. Once, after the Rows had gone out with the other kids, Thomas attempted to watch a video. Because he pressed the incorrect button, he was ultimately unable to watch it. Making the show go by incredibly quickly was how it felt to him. While he was watching the world go by, he arrived at the end without knowing how it all started.

"Yes, it is.” Mr. O'Sullivan smiled and brushed Thomas' hair. Looking around, they looked like they were in an ordinary brick alley. Perhaps he couldn't see the stores yet, but Thomas felt a little let down. Perhaps a magic spell was used to make them visible? Thomas only had to wait, and that was something he was good at.

“You know it's not called poofing.” Lars explained while adjusting his robe.

“No, don't tell him!” Mrs. O'Sullivan placed a hand over Lars's mouth. “It's cuter this way.” Lars rolled his eyes.

“He'll learn it in school.” Mr. O'Sullivan reminded her.

“Just for today.” Similar to what Lars had done when Thomas first met him, Mrs. O'Sullivan extended her hand in front of her face with the thumb facing out. In turn, it freed Lars' mouth.

“I'll tell you later.” Lars rolled his eyes, and Mr. O'Sullivan laughed. Thomas shook his head. Mrs. O'Sullivan was a very happy lady. She was unlike anyone Thomas had ever met.

“Clothes first!” Mrs. O'Sullivan raised her hand in the air and sounded very happy about it.

“The cauldron shop is closer,” Lars said, shaking his head.

“He's right.” Mr. O'Sullivan moved to a spot next to Lars. The pair looked like they were teaming up. “You should go ahead and pick out a few things.” Mr. O'Sullivan smiled, waving his wife forward.

“We'll pick up the cauldrons and meet you there.” Lars smiled too, echoing Mr. O'Sullivan's tone. They sounded very nice, but Thomas felt like they were trying to avoid the store. But why?

“Then Thomas should come with me; they'll need measurements.” Mrs. O'Sullivan's eyes knitted together in thought.

“Thomas has never been in a cauldron store, Mother.” Lars spoke up, looking at his father.

“Right Lars. We should take him through it as a teaching aid.” Mr. O'Sullivan winked at Lars. Thomas watched this go back and forth. Thomas hadn't been in a clothing store before, let alone a cauldron store. Both sounded interesting, but he wasn't sure what was going on yet. Thomas decided to keep his opinion to himself.

“True.” Mrs. O'Sullivan nodded in agreement. “I'll meet you boys there. Then I'll get them to measure Thomas.” Mrs. O'Sullivan turned and headed up the alley without them. Thomas joined the others in waving her off.

“Dodged it.” Lars said, holding his hand to his chest with a sigh.

“Dodged what?” Thomas asked, observing how relieved the two appeared. What horror lurked in a magical clothing store? He pondered. Perhaps little monsters sewed the clothing together! Thomas shuddered as he imagined dreadful little creatures stitching robes with their claws.

“I adore Merry, but rather than go shopping with her, I'd rather deal with a wild dragon.” Mr. O'Sullivan smiled and looked off in the distance as he said this.

“Merry is my mother, by the way.” Lars explained, looking at Thomas. “Liam is my father.” Lars pointed at his father.

“That reminds me.” Mr. O'Sullivan turned to Thomas. “If it doesn't bother you, please call me Uncle Liam.” Thomas blinked in surprise. “Mr. O'Sullivan is my father.” Winking at Thomas, he said next in a whisper. “I'm just not old enough to be him yet.”

“Okay.” Thomas nodded, pausing before adding. “Uncle Liam?” He asked a question.

“Perfect.” Mr. O'Sullivan smiled, patting his chest pocket. “I have the list. Shall we get to it?”

“Great!” Lars turned to Thomas. “You're going to love this.” At the end of the alley, where Mrs. O'Sullivan also vanished, Lars pulled Thomas by the end and guided them to the top. There, Thomas discovered a completely new world. Welcome to Diagon Alley, Thomas!” Lars said, opening his arms with a flair.

“Bloody hell.” Thomas muttered an expletive. There were rows of shops beyond the brick entrance's shadow. The first was a cauldron shop with tall stacks of large, black pots with short legs. There were dozens of people there! None of their robes were as vibrant as Lars's, but they were all still magnificent. Greens, purples, and blacks with all different kinds of elaborate pointed hats. We're darting to and fro.

“Don't swear, Thomas.” Thomas's new uncle tapped him on the head.

“Sorry.” Thomas said with a grimace. Uncle Liam smiled.

“I understand the need, though.” Uncle Liam pulled out a list from the pocket inside his robe. “Pewter cauldrons are first.”

“What are cauldrons for?” Thomas asked, quickly on the heels of Lars, who was in turn following his father into the store.

“It's for mixing potions.” Lars answered, keeping the door open for Thomas. “You can make all sorts of things happen with the right potion.”

“What kind of things?” Thomas asked, curious.

“You brew luck, cure ailments, anything really.” Lars shrugged his shoulders. “If you have the right ingredients,”

“Like mixing scotch with milk? To make a new drink?” Thomas asked, and he made a few for the bar patrons. It was something he was familiar with, and he liked the idea of having some knowledge about this wizarding world he was stepping into.

“Yes, but why would you know about something like that?” Uncle Lars stopped and looked at Thomas. He froze under his gaze. If he told him, he knew he would get in trouble. Thomas was well aware that minors weren't supposed to be in the bar. Let alone serve the drinks. Stuck between being in trouble and a lie. Thomas couldn't move.

“Move aside!” A woman blundered through them, and Lars pulled Thomas to the side. Stopping him from getting nailed with a large gold cauldron the woman was carrying.

“You're not in trouble, Thomas.” Lars said, patting his shoulder.

“Did you drink any of what you mixed?” Uncle Liam gave him a narrow-eyed look. Thomas shook his head. “Words Thomas.”

“No. The old man wouldn't let me if I wanted to.” Thomas added on fast, realizing he may be misunderstood. “I didn't want to.”

“Good.” Uncle Liam nodded. “Pewters are in the back.” Trailing after him. Lars whispered to him.

“Whose old man?” Lars raised a brow. Thomas shrugged. How could he explain him?

“He was a nice guy. He helped me out.” Thomas whispered back.

“He taught you how to mix drinks.” Lars one eyebrow went even further up his forehead.

“He said it would be a trade that would help me later.” Thomas shrugged again. The old man always helped Thomas out, but he wasn't much for explaining things. Life lessons from him were short and had little explanation. Leaving Thomas to figure things out on his own.

“I guess that could work, but why didn't I see him?” Lars turned away, tapping his mouth with his finger.

“He died before you guys came.” Thomas said, wondering why Lars thought he would have seen the old man.

“Boys, come over and pick a cauldron!” Uncle Liam called over his shoulder. Lars was quick to pick out a simple black one. Thomas loved one with clawed feet, and after seeing it, he thought it was pewter. Uncle Liam got it for him.

“Thank you,” Thomas said, carrying the heavy cauldron out of the store.

“No need for thanks.” Uncle Liam tapped his ring on the cauldron, and it vanished from Thomas's arms.

“Brilliant.” Thomas whispered. Lars laughed and held his cauldron up for his father to tap too.

“It's one of Father's creations.” Lars said, standing tall with pride.

“I got the idea from the cultivation rings in Asia.” Uncle Liam ruffled Lars' hair. “It's going to be our new bestseller this fall.”

“Best seller?” Thomas repeated. “Do you own a store?” Thomas looked around, wondering if it was one of the ones here.

“Father runs a magical artifact company,” Lars said, which didn't explain much to Thomas.

“I create magic items and sell them to stores.” Uncle Liam cleared things up.

“Sounds amazing.” Thomas said he was in awe of him. Creating things, and with magic no less. How could it not be amazing?

“I think it's amazing, too, Thomas.” Uncle Liam pushed them to the shop across the way. The sign read Apothecary in gold script.

“Now to our next stop.” Lars and Thomas got scales and some glass-looking vials. Thomas was pulled away from the shelf with the dragon livers. Lars was disgusted, but Thomas thought it smelled great.

“Potter 300. Mom, can I get one?” A mother pulled a small boy away from a store window.

“Maybe when you're closer to going to school,” she answered vaguely. Thomas looked out the window and saw a black broom with a large, bushy tail. That looked like someone slicked it back with hair grease. It had a solid gold wrap between the handle and the bristles. It was too fancy to be for sweeping, and no kid would want a broom unless it wasn't just a broom.

“What are the brooms for?” Thomas asked, and then an idea clicked in his head. “Do you ride them?” Thomas looked to Lars, who gave him two thumbs up.

“First years aren't allowed their own brooms.” Uncle Liam said, “You can try removing mine when we get home.” Thomas smiled and nodded. Not for the offer but because of what he said. When we get home. We. It was a new and big thing to Thomas, and it was a word that he liked very much.

“It's not that hard.” Lars stopped and turned pale. Thomas, who was walking right beside him, noticed right away.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked, being outspoken by some hooting and a screeching sound to their side. Tomas turned, seeing dozens of birds. All owls. Of all sizes, humming and screeching in the oddly shaped cages. Thomas was to get up in the street to notice the noisy things beforehand. Turning back to Lars, he saw the color drop a few shades.

“Is it the owls?” Thomas recognized the signs; he felt the same way towards frogs. Nasty things. Thomas shivered just thinking about them. “Uncle Liam!” Thomas turned, but Uncle Liam was already on top of it. He took Lars by the hand.

“Keep up, Thomas,” he said. Thomas was fast behind him, his eyes on Lars while they darted past the owl-filled store, not stopping until they rushed into another store, about two away from the birds. Only when they were inside did Lars's color start to return.

“I hate those things.” Lars took a deep breath.

“I won't let them hurt you, Lars,” Thomas said, trying to reassure him. He may not have magic yet, but he didn’t need magic to scare off some birds. Thomas had scared a few pigeons in his time, and really, what was the difference?

“Thanks.” Lars said this with a wobbly smile.

“The birds have got you too.” Coming down a set of stairs was Mrs. O'Sullivan, shaking her head but not looking concerned. “I forgot they had those things there. Gave me a fright!”

“Mrs.” Thomas stopped, remembering that he now called Lars's father uncle. “Aunt Merry, do you not like owls either?” In a whirl of pink and floral perfume, Thomas got swept up in a hug.

“You called me Aunt!” Her happiness sent Thomas spinning in a circle, spinning the room before his eyes like a top. 

“My wife and son don't care for owls.” Uncle Liam said, pulling Thomas free of her grasp. Dizzy, he sat down beside Lars. “Shame, they're great messenger birds.”

“Our crows work fine.” Aunt Merry stomped her foot. “Time to get measured!” Thomas was pulled back to his feet faster than he sat. He found himself standing on a round platform while a self-moving measurement tape danced around him, measuring him for what only Aunt Merry knew.

“You're here for school clothes too?” A small girl with light braided hair tied in twin braids asked Thomas. Thomas nodded without saying anything. He wanted to be polite; he didn't want to cause any trouble for the O'Sullivans, but he wasn't one to talk to some random stranger either.

“Isn't it simply amazing?” She squealed, waving her hands and making the measuring tape rise like an angry snake at her. Thomas was circling around him, taking down his clothes without care. Thomas didn't squirm around like the girl, though.

“Do you know what house you're going to be in?” Thomas tilted his head. The school was a dorm; maybe she meant where they'd be living. If so, how would he know? Seeing his confusion, the girl giggled into her hands. The measuring tape snapped and slapped her hands with its tail end.

“Ow.” The girl turned her lips down in a frown, rubbing her hands.

“I think it wants you to stand still,” Thomas offered, feeling bad for the measuring tape. It may have been magic making it move, but still, it had a job.

“I guess.” She stood still with her arms out. If magical measurement tapes could sigh, Thomas was sure that one would. “All done, Mr. Thomas.” An elderly wizard with gray hair towering higher than Thomas could see told him

“Thank you, Madam Antoinette.” Aunt Merry hugged the older witch, bringing a smile to her otherwise stern-looking face.

“The clothes will be delivered within the day.” Madam Antoinette patted her arm, ducking out of the hug. Her gaze turned to the once again squirmy girl, who was trying to catch the poor tape.

“Miss Pipa, stand still!” Her voice came down in a firm command, stilling her in seconds. Thomas shook his head and stepped down.