"Not sure I'd call it fun but it's relaxing an' passes the time."

"Hm."

"I could make one fer yeh if yeh want."

"Really?"

"O' course. What colour do yeh like?"

"Red."

"Alright!" He puts the yellow tent away, rummages through his stuff, finds what he's looking for and starts knitting something red.

He is very happy that she is happy!

"Have yeh seen yer list o' school materials?" he asks at some point.

"Yeah, I looked it over when I first got the letter."

"Good, good. We'll be goin' to Gringotts, the bank, and gettin' yer money there ter buy everythin' at Diagon Alley."

She nods.

Eventually they arrive in London, and while Hagrid clearly has a destination in mind, he does not have an easy time getting there the ordinary way, what with ticket barriers and such.

She can help with things that require expertise but physical barriers are a bit beyond her.

There will be several opportunities for her to be helpful, and he will complain loudly about the Underground seats being too small and the trains too slow.

It's so much less annoying than when Dudley complains about things!

It is!

Hagrid is so huge that he parts the crowd easily. They pass bookshops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looks as if it could sell you a magic wand. This is just an ordinary street full of ordinary people.

"This is it," he says eventually, however, coming to a halt in front of a tiny, grubby-looking pub. "The Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It's unremarkable to the point that the people hurrying by don't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they can't see the Leaky Cauldron at all.

...Huh.

"Can people not see it?"

"It's enchanted so's muggles have a hard time, aye."

Hagrid steers Dorea inside. For a famous place, it's very dark and shabby. A few old women are sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them is smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat's talking to the old bartender, who's quite bald and looks like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stops when they walk in. Everyone seems to know Hagrid; they wave and smile at him, and the bartender reaches for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," says Hagrid, gesturing towards Dorea.

She gives him her best "I'm so nice and anything the Dursleys have said about my behavior is a dirty rotten lie" smile.

"Good Lord," says the bartender, peering at Dorea, "is this—can this be—?" The Leaky Cauldron suddenly goes completely still and silent. "Bless my soul," whispers the old bartender, "Dorea Potter... what an honor." He hurries out from behind the bar, rushes towards Dorea and seizes her hand, tears in his eyes. "Welcome back, Ms. Potter, welcome back."

"Thank you," she says.

Everyone is looking at her. The old woman with the pipe's puffing on it without realizing it has gone out. Hagrid's beaming.

Then there's a great scraping of chairs and the next moment everyone in the Leaky Cauldron wants to shake hands with her.

Oh gosh. Well. She will do her best to shake hands with everyone.

"Doris Crockford, Ms. Potter, can't believe I’m meeting you at last."

"So proud, Ms. Potter, I’m just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand—I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Ms. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle," says a man... who once a long time ago bowed to Dorea in a shop.