Three twelve-year-olds are gathered in a bathroom, copying a diagram from a book onto the floor in chalk.
"Do you know what all this writing means?" asks the green-eyed boy.
"No," says the bushy-haired girl, "and that worries me too, but we need to find out who the Heir of Slytherin is and this ritual is the best we've got."
Eventually, one or another of them draws the last bit of the outer circle.
Now that he's been there and knows how to navigate it and avoid drawing attention, he can take the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, though without a wand he'll need to tailgate into the alley proper.
(Floo is undignified but he picks himself up at the other end none the worse for wear, since he's indestructible.) He assumes he can't just make a wand but why not try it, anyway.
He can make a stick of whatever appearance he likes, but tapping the brick that's supposed to open Diagon Alley with it does nothing.
It's not long before someone else comes through and opens the alley with barely a glance at Cam.
Through he slips, and he's off to Gringott's, where he will wait patiently in line to talk to a goblin.
Brief line, goblin. If he just wants to make a withdrawal it will be a simple roller coaster ride.
"Hi, I need to demonstrate to some people that I have a source of income and don't know if living off the proceeds of a single basilisk-slaying will count. May I inquire how Gringott's feels about purchasing assorted gem-quality rocks, precious metals, other exotic materials, etcetera, which are magically produced but definitively mundane ever after?"
"By magically produced you mean mined with the use of magic?"
The goblin pinches the bridge of his very long nose. "We get half a dozen claims a year that someone has cracked permanent transfiguration and wants to sell us infinite gold."
"That's why I'm not assuming you'd want to buy! Though out of curiosity how do you handle people laundering money through Muggles who can be conned or enchanted into accepting the gold?"
"We wouldn't deal with a country where that was legal. And they all ban it for the secrecy risk anyway; you don't want a muggle making a fuss because his gold turned back into mud."
"My gold won't turn into mud. You can test it however you like. But I don't want the commodities market to crash so I was hoping to deal more in gemstones, maybe ruin the DeBeers cartel's day."
The teller's expression is something like "Well at least he's on the clever end of perpetual-motion crazies." What he actually says is, "All right, fill out this form and leave us a sample and we'll get back to you in three business days."
"Thanks!" He makes assorted diamonds, puts them in a ziploc bag, fills out the form.
The globin is intrigued by the lack of wand and also by the mechanism of the Ziploc bag, but doesn't show it beyond a more focused gaze. "Thank you. Do you have any other business?"
"Have a nice day." He motions to the next person in line, a witch in bright blue robes and a hat with a very real-looking bunch of grapes on it.
Off he goes to send various owls to various international organizations to secure his slots and inquire after the state of the art of the relevant sort of activism.
He gets conference tickets and explanatory pamphlets! Activism is mostly publishing books and lobbying legislative bodies, plus campaigning for candidates in the places with elections and prolonged attempts to persuade monarchs in the monarchies. The political parties that support greater integration with muggles also have opinions on a bunch of other issues, which range from "werewolf rights and subsidies on wolfsbane" to "break up the mandrake production monopoly" to "drive quintapeds extinct" to "ban importation of broomsticks" to "flat tax".
Well, they're magic-resistant, extremely toothy, and their favourite food is human flesh. On the other hand, they're confined to one now-otherwise-uninhabited island and haven't escaped yet. On the third hand, they started out as transfigured wizards, so they might be smart enough to escape eventually and nobody wants that.
....has anyone considered turning them back. Or are these, uh, descendants of the originals.
There were several attempts to untransfigure them, which resulted in fewer total limbs on the scene but not in the way the attempters were hoping for. Some combination of "too magic resistant" and "they dodge really fast". Everyone gave up a long time ago and the existing ones are presumably descendants.
A small teenager with blue trim on her robes approaches his library table and asks "Is it true that you have a spaceship?"
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