Lunch at the leaky cauldron was actually pretty good, nothing grand but still a good ole club sandwich, and a glass of milk.
Mind you Cassius did try to order a butterbeer to see how it tasted only to get a belly full laugh from Old Tom, who could only shake his head stating Cassius would need to wait till he was at least 14 for something like that.
'tch' not like i asked for wine or firewhiskey, i mean it cant be that bad if teenage kids can drink it can it?
The food was passable but the plate, and glass...
He just pretended they didnt exist, magic is wonderous afterall, who care about something like germs.
Getting the chance to read a discarded daily prophet, while occasionally looking around at the various patrons and other wizarding families passing through to get to the alley.
Sharing pieces of the meat from his club with his new friend noctis.
A few elderly wizard getting a good ribbing chuckle watching the touching scene of a boy and his owl bonding.
When the last crumbs were gone, he slipped from his chair, leaving the money behind without fuss, and slipped once more through the brick arch into Diagon Alley following in the footsteps of another wizard.
~
Madam Malkin's bell tinkled as he stepped inside.
The shop was busier now with a couple witches seated in the waiting area, while others were standing in line at the desk to place their orders.
"Ah, you're back," the Madam said, bustling forward with surprising speed for her age. "Right on time. Seven everyday robes, all charmed for autosizing, plus your formal set. High quality, just as you requested."
Behind her floated a stack of perfectly folded garments.
The everyday robes were simple, black with a dark green lining, and silver trim.
The dress robes shimmered faintly, as though the fabric itself refused to catch dust.
Cassius inspected each piece with a practiced eye.
Perfect seams.
Clean hems.
The faint pulse of charms worked into the threads.
"This more than fufills the request," he said, reaching into his pouch.
Extracting the remaining cost in gold and silver, before sliding the folded up clothing into his satchel.
Transaction complete, he gave a curt nod and departed, the tape-measure phantom still lingering in his mind.
The alley greeted him once more with its swirl of chaos.
But this time, Cassius walked with a different gait.
The bag at his side was heavy with books, robes, a false wand.
The cage in his hand thrummed with restrained wings.
His errands were complete.
And with it so was his time in the Magical world.
Time to go home.
At the Cauldron's front door, Cassius passed easily among the patrons.
To them he was only a child with a cage, one more errand-runner underfoot.
Outside, London's noise crashed down.
Car horns.
Bicycle bells.
The murmur of crowds that knew nothing of the magic a single brick wall away.
Cassius raised an arm and hailed a cab.
The driver, a stocky man with grey stubble, gave him a dubious once-over when the boy hefted the cage nearly as tall as himself into the back seat.
"You lost, kid?"
Cassius fixed him with the blank, imperious stare he had practiced.
"No. I need a ride. To Islington."
The man hesitated.
His eyes flicked from the expensive-looking leather bag, to the neat designer clothes he still wore, to the bird of midnight feathers glaring from the cage.
In the end, he only grunted.
"Rich kid nonsense. Fine. Hop in."
The car rumbled forward, swallowing Cassius into the veins of the city.
The ride passed in silence.
Cassius kept one hand on the cage to steady Noctis, the other resting lightly on the messenger bag.
Street after street unfurled outside—shopfronts, office towers, rows of identical brick flats.
To them he was nothing but a boy on an adventure.
But within the leather at his side lay enough knowledge to rewrite futures.
By the time the cab pulled up to the discreet condo building, the driver's suspicion had shifted into weary resignation.
"That'll be five quid."
Cassius produced the exact change from a slim wallet, another mask to reinforce the illusion of wealth.
He stepped out, lifted the cage again, before entering the condo, setting the cage down on the ground to stand on his tiptoes to get the key into the door and unlocking his home, before reclaiming the key, and hauling Noctis in to her knew home.
No one stopped him, he just looked like a child returning home afterall, no one was the wiser that the condo in question had no adults living in it.
Inside, the condo was quiet.
Spartan, still bearing the marks of recent purchase: bare walls, empty counters, the faint smell of fresh paint.
Cassius set the cage down, opened the latch, and stepped back.
Noctis exploded outward in a flurry of black feathers, wings brushing the ceiling.
The bird circled once, twice, before settling atop the curtain rod in the living room.
The perch seemed acceptable—high, shadowed, with a view of every corner.
Noctis hooted softly, eyes like molten coin gleaming in the dim light.
"Good," Cassius said, loosening the strap of his bag. "Guard well, i'll have work for you to do pretty soon."
The owl tucked its beak beneath a wing.
Cassius turned his attention to the armchair by the window.
It was plain, cushioned, positioned for long hours of sitting.
Perfect.
He lowered himself into it, drew the messenger bag onto his lap, and unlatched the clasp.
Books spilled forth in orderly stacks, the fruits of Flourish and Blotts.
History texts to begin with only.
Cassius selected a thick tome bound in cracked leather: Modern Wizarding History.
The pages smelled of dust and ink.
He read.
Names unfurled across the parchment—Ministers of Magic, Goblin rebellions, Grindelwald's rise and fall.
The events matched what he remembered.
The Statute of Secrecy in 1692.
Dumbledore's duel in 1945.
The first fall of Voldemort in 1981.
The timeline was intact.
Relief loosened the tension in his chest.
His very existence had not shifted the bedrock of history.
The script remained, the future still tethered to what he recalled from books and films.
But history was only a spine.
Flesh could be altered.
He turned page after page, tracing the lines where opportunity lay.
The rise of blood-purist families.
The stagnation of magical invention.
The quiet corruption in the Ministry.
Weaknesses, all of them.
Noctis shifted above, feathers rustling like parchment.
But then after skimming through swaths of the book not really reading it but confirming events happened as they had in the Fantastic beasts movies, at least until he reached the start of his story.
Or rather his Twin half-brothers.
Voldemorts downfall.
October 31st, 1981 Voldemort was destroyed after an attempted assassination of the potters leaving only a young child as the lone survivor.
This all matched up, but what he read next dropped his jaw.
Euphemia, and Fleamont Potter were listed as dead on arrival by the ministry, with Euphemia believed to have managed to force the dark lord into a mutually assured destruction, with the darklord disappearing leaving only his robe behind, while Euphemia herself lost her life moments after her husabnds was reaped by the dark lord.
Lily, and James Potter active members of the order of the Phoenix were interviewed regarding the failed attack detailing they were defending the home of another order member the Long Bottoms having believed their home safe via Fidelius charm.
Sirus Black was blamed and incarcerated for the murder of peter petigrew along with 13 muggles, and condemned by the potters and the public as the reason the secret of Harry was breeched to the dark lord.
...
So she is alive then...?
But after finding out that there really wasnt a 'boy-who-lived' mythos out there, Cassius did get to laugh at a bit of rare irony.
Ask any fan, what their most memorable moment of the first movie was, and you'll 9-times out of 10 get people answering with Petunia's lie to harry about how Lily and james died.
Turns out, thanks to this being the real world, getting yourself blown up in a car crash really wasnt to outlandish.
But again the truth couldnt be further from itself.
The documented account stated that James piloting a muggle contraption called an automobile, was targetted by death eaters resulting in his death and the death of his young son.
No mention of Lily in this one, either she survived the crash, or wasnt there, though the chances of harry being dead were slim to none, it was more likely he was squirreled away by dumbledore into hiding just like the og timeline.
In the end after hours of pouring over history novels it seemed that Tom was more level headed in his crusade resulting in massive fear and terror, but not nearly as great a death toll as happened origionally.
Was this also his doing or did tom fail at splitting his sould and mind into the horcrux's?