Journey into the Wizarding World

Chapter 4

Finally, the change of scenery stopped and I was clenching on to Daddy's pant leg as I panted feeling like my world was still spinning from the flight. It felt as if I had been aboard a plane and clung for dear life through a storm that was eighty miles per hour. I staggered off then tripped over a stone and fell much to the laughter of my parent. I started to get up to my feet then took his offered hand and assembled myself a new balance. A balance that I quickly gained on my feet then relaxed.

I looked up spotting the sign for the leaky cauldron above our heads then he opened the door and I walked in with my head held up. Daddy followed me into the building and the door closed behind us. I jumped at the sound of the door closing then scanned the inside of the building noticing how medieval it appeared to be instead of modern with the candles, gray walls with shadows, and the entire feel of the place was quite mystical and odd for all its faults.

"Ah, Mr Bb-b-bb-b-b-b-b-bar----bbaar----barfoot!" Came the cry of a familiar voice. "Wel--wel---we---wel---come to the Leaky Cauldron!"

I froze as I spotted Quirrel there along the counter on a stool as the bartender stood behind it pouring a drink.

"Want the usual, Barfoot?" the wizardly bartender asked.

And Lord Voldemort is in the same room as I am.

"No, thanks. " Daddy shook his hand. "I am here for Hogwart's shopping."

And that's really terrifying, being in the same place as the man murdered a entire family even terrified a entire world for years at a time including long after his demise.Quirrel was a insult with that head turban to the Muslim faith, to every faith in general, using it as a disguise instead of representing his faith. Speaking of which, no one knew what his truth faith was.

"H-h-h-h-hhello." Quirrel said.

"As-salam alaykom." I replied.

May peace be unto you, that was the best I could say to the man who had the soul of Voldemort.

"S-s-s-s-sorry?"

"'abn alshrmwt." Son of a bitch, you son of a bitch, son of a bitch---Yes, I did say son of a bitch to a Hogwarts professor in my mother tongue.

"This is your professor at Hogwarts, Robbie." Daddy said. "That isn't how you respond to a fellow human being."

My hands clenched into fists as I stared at the man who aligned himself with the force of evil, with the fascism that swept through America only decades ago and had now just started to seep its way into the Wizarding World once more to finish what it had started. I stared back at daddy without much of sharing another word, as little as saying; I cannot speak to this imposter. I cannot speak to this terrorist. That is what he represented. Terrorism.

"Is it about the turban?" Quirrel patted on the head turban. "I-i-i-i-ii-i--i I got it from slaying a zombie."

"How did you do that, Professor?" Daddy asked.

"T-t-t--t-t-t-t-th--the weather was t-t-t--t-t-terrible." Quirrel said.

"You mean to say that you ran away in the rain from a zombie and got the head impaled by the nearest pointy material." I said.

"W-w-w-why, yes, I did!" He stared at me with his eyes wide open. "H-h-h-have you---"

"Killed a zombie? No." I shook my head with a loud and highly amused laugh. "A person high on soap and preparing to eat me? Yes. Self defense? Yes?"

"Oh-h-h-h-h-h video game?"

"No, real life."

I could feel daddy's gaze on me.