Chapter 182: The Third Trip to Diagon Alley

Wizard Sean Green returned to a state of utter destitution; when he came back to McGonagall’s little cottage, the sky had already darkened.

Meanwhile, on the garbage-choked streets of Croydon, Hollyse Orphanage had its first lavish dinner.

The new mysterious operator, Roland Taylor, stood in the hallway, watching the children tread carefully on the freshly waxed wooden floor.

They wore clothes that weren’t new but were clean and crisp; the girls’ hair was tied with rare ribbons. No one shoved, no one cried; even the youngest child clutched his sleeve tightly, eyes wide and vacant.

One child stared at his plate full of stew and pudding, then suddenly looked up and asked:

“Is this really for me?”

“Of course, dear.”

Roland Taylor said.

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

“No need to share with others?”

“No need.”

The child named Liya picked up his fork, put it down, then picked it up again. He repeated this three times, as if confirming that this too-good-to-be-true reality wouldn’t suddenly vanish.

“We want to know why… if this will always be like this, we’ll do anything you ask—we’ll do plenty of work.”

An older child crept forward cautiously; his words made the other older children nod vigorously.

Watching them speak earnestly of the chores they could do, Roland Taylor’s throat grew hoarse.

“You don’t need to,” she said to the children…

She gazed at every small face lit by the firelight, at their hopeful eyes—she knew once, someone else’s eyes had burned with the same longing.

He never got to wait for it, but they did.

“Because… someone came before.”

…

That night, Hollyse Orphanage raised a row of grave markers; when they slipped away quietly, everyone assumed no one cared, no one remembered.

But someone remembered.

Roland Taylor dug the graves herself; as snowflakes melted on her scorching skin, many thin children ran out of the orphanage.

“We can help dig the holes,”

the older children said.

“We can help carry the dirt,”

the younger ones said.

And so Roland Taylor’s tears burned through the entire long night; when the grave markers stood, she was already kneeling on the ground.

She wasn’t kneeling to anyone—she was kneeling to all human suffering and all human kindness.

…

The last night of gathering at the McGonagall family cottage arrived.

Sarah didn’t know why her grandfather had grown silent after returning from a long journey.

Like Millicent, he stared far into the distance, where dust was rising—a carriage drew nearer.

“It’s Brother Green!”

Sarah finally relaxed and stole the last cookie. She knew that once the cold-looking but easygoing wizard returned, she wouldn’t be chased anymore by her brothers and sisters.

“Sarah! You stole another cookie! That was our last one!”

Bard cried out.

The last words the little girl spoke before turning into a cat were:

“The cat ate it—has nothing to do with Sarah.”

And so the dinner began.

The dinner was just as lavish, but when Marcus McGonagall announced that Professor Millicent McGonagall and Wizard Sean Green would be leaving, the McGonagall children’s wailing nearly tore the roof off.

After dinner.

Three pitiful figures had already gathered outside the spacious upstairs room.

They tumbled in through the door just as they had at first, landing softly on a cushion made from transformed books.

Wizard Sean sighed—he’d planned to get some Animal Party Cookies from Diagon Alley, but Emily Gutter refused to give him even one.

She pointed to the inscriptions on each cookie and said:

“My dear Mr. Green, every cookie here is marked with a date—there’s barely enough for five days.

If you, an alchemical master with some business sense, could spare a little more for poor Mrs. Gutter, perhaps those angry wizards won’t turn me into a cookie.

Oh, do I look like a cookie to you?”

Emily Gutter nearly threw Wizard Sean out of her shop—but fortunately, her professional ethics outweighed her personal emotions.

Wizard Sean had to settle for materials instead; that night in the cottage was busy and warm.

【You practiced making Mrs. Loris’s Cookies at an expert level—Proficiency +10】

【You practiced making Mrs. Loris’s Cookies at an expert level—Proficiency +10】

…

The three McGonagall children watched, exclaiming “Wow—” and “Oh—” by the hearth’s firelight.

Wizard Sean thought three frogs had entered the room.

Outside the door, beneath the stairs, two people always spoke here:

“I need to know—is Hogwarts… truly safe?”

It was Marcus McGonagall’s voice.

“It’s the safest place in the world,”

Professor Millicent McGonagall said calmly.

“I’ll give him this Portkey. You know where it leads, Millicent.”

“Marcus, this increases your danger…”

“We’re family—I have nothing to fear. The only thing I’m unsure of is whether a child like him will avoid dangerous things…”

Then the hallway fell into long silence.

The next morning, Professor McGonagall didn’t bring her suitcase, and Wizard Sean still stared at the Portkey glove in his hand.

A Portkey is a magically enchanted object that transports anyone who touches it to a designated location.

Usually, Portkeys are mundane everyday items, to avoid drawing Muggle attention. Using one feels like a hook yanking sharply behind the navel, dragging you to your destination.

Hogwarts can be reached by Portkey. Before the Hogwarts Express opened, Portkeys were the method used to send students to Hogwarts without alerting Muggles.

But Portkeys are strictly regulated by the Ministry of Magic—prior application and registration are mandatory. Using an unapproved Portkey carries severe consequences; as Lupin said, “It’s not enough to lose your life.”

Yet, as Dumbledore had boldly used one right before Ministry officials to reach Hogwarts…

Some people always realize that some things outweigh rules.

As Wizard Sean observed, a note slipped from the Portkey glove:

【Keep it somewhere you can easily reach—it will take you away from danger】

Beneath the beech tree, Marcus McGonagall bid farewell loudly; the McGonagall children wept uncontrollably.

It was a morning without goodbyes—Wizard Sean and the Professor returned to the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley.

This time, Wizard Sean didn’t need to count a single Galleon—he’d lost his wallet entirely.

His robe pockets were empty, yet when he stood in the sunlight, his presence carried a heavy weight.