Harry Potter: From Baldur's Gate to Hogwarts

"Hagrid, is this how wizards travel? It's amazing!"

With his arms outstretched, feeling the rushing wind against his face, Harry gazed down at the tiny houses below through the clouds. Sitting in the sidecar of the motorcycle, every vein in his body seemed to pulse with excitement.

"Most wizards have much more comfortable ways to travel, like trains or Floo powder," Hagrid explained, one hand gripping the handlebars of a motorcycle that was noticeably larger than a normal one, the other scratching his messy hair.

"But with my size, I can't use normal people's transport. I can't Apparate, and Portkeys are rarely necessary for me, so when I travel far, I rely on this flying motorbike with an invisibility function."

"Hagrid, aren't you technically a Hogwarts professor? Why can't you Apparate? Professor Snape seems to be quite skilled at it," Harry asked loudly, his words distorted by the rushing wind.

"Well," Hagrid said, "I got expelled in my third year."

"Hogwarts expels students?" Harry asked curiously.

"It was different back then," Hagrid sighed.

"That year, someone unleashed a terrifying creature in the school, and when Tom Riddle found out I was keeping Aragog, I was blamed for it. They caught me, claiming I released the monster. Just as they were about to send me to Azkaban, Dumbledore saved me. He's a truly great man, you know."

"Who's Aragog?" Harry, struggling against the relentless wind, decided to curl up inside the sidecar to shield himself from its force.

"Aragog?" A nostalgic look appeared in Hagrid's eyes.

"He's an Acromantula, a giant spider that can talk. I sent him to live deep in the Forbidden Forest, and later, I even found him a wife—Mosag, I think her name was. They've had loads of children, and now they've formed quite a colony. Thanks to me, Aragog is very friendly towards humans."

As Hagrid recounted fond memories, he proudly described Aragog to Harry and even invited him to visit the Acromantula colony someday.

But just hearing the word "Acromantula" sent a shiver down Harry's spine. He'd never seen one before, but he had encountered other large spiders. Thinking about that multi-colored, massive spider they fought in the village's depths made Harry's hair stand on end. Back then, when they were only Level 4, it had taken them a great deal of effort—and 400 gold coins—to defeat it.

"Let's not, for now. I have a bit of a spider phobia," Harry muttered, curling up tighter in the sidecar.

After chatting for a while longer, Harry dozed off. When he woke up to a bumpy ride, he poked his head out of the sidecar to find himself in the middle of a bustling city street.

"Hagrid, where are we now?" Harry asked, stretching and turning to look at Hagrid in the driver's seat.

"London. We're near the Leaky Cauldron… Ah, we've arrived."

Harry watched as Hagrid stopped in front of a shabby little pub. Hagrid extended a hand as large as a lily pad, pulling Harry out of the sidecar and carrying him inside. Hagrid spoke a few words to someone who appeared to be a bartender, and the man took the motorbike away, disappearing somewhere with it.

Harry finally began to take in the pub, which had a distinctly worn and ancient atmosphere.

For such a famous place (Hagrid hadn't stopped talking about it on the way), it was shockingly dim and dirty.

A few old women sat in the corner, sipping sherry from tiny glasses, one of them puffing on a long pipe.

A man in a tall hat was chatting with a balding, nutcracker-like bartender. The moment they entered, the chatter abruptly ceased.

It seemed everyone knew Hagrid. They smiled and waved at him. The bartender picked up a glass and asked, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Not today, Tom. I'm on Hogwarts business," Hagrid replied, clapping the bartender on the shoulder with his giant hand, nearly flattening him.

"My word," the bartender exclaimed, peering at Harry. "Could this be—this must be—"

The Leaky Cauldron fell silent as everyone turned to look at Harry. The attention was unnerving.

"Good heavens!" the bartender whispered, stepping forward. "Harry Potter—what an honor."

The wiry old man hurried out from behind the bar, wiping his hands on his clothes before grasping Harry's hand tightly. His watery eyes glistened. "Welcome back, Mr. Potter. Welcome back."

"Uh… You know me?" Harry asked, managing to pull free from the bartender's iron grip and taking a step back, looking confused.

"Of course! You're the Boy Who Lived, the one who defeated… him!" the bartender said excitedly.

Faced with the overwhelming enthusiasm of the crowd, Harry was at a loss for words. Everyone was staring at him. The old woman with the pipe puffed away, oblivious that it had gone out.

Hagrid was grinning as the surrounding chairs creaked and groaned. Harry found himself shaking hands with nearly everyone in the pub.

Dedalus, Diggle, Ollivander, Professor Quirrell… Nearly every patron was eager to shake Harry's hand.

About ten minutes later, just as Harry was starting to tire of the endless greetings, Hagrid finally pulled him away from the crowd.

"Time to go. We've got a lot of shopping to do. Let's go, Harry."

Hagrid led Harry through the bar to a small, walled courtyard. Apart from a dustbin and some weeds, there was nothing there.

"Hagrid, what's the Boy Who Lived? Who's… him?"

After that overwhelming welcome, Harry couldn't help but sense that his identity among wizards was far from ordinary.

Hagrid paused, turning to face Harry. His expression darkened noticeably when he realized Harry wasn't joking.

"Harry, do you really not know?" Hagrid asked seriously.

"Know what?" Harry frowned. "Is there something I'm supposed to know?"

"Those blasted Dursleys," Hagrid muttered angrily. "Harry, I'm talking about our world—your world, my world."

Harry shook his head.

"I just left the Dursleys and met Professor Snape before being brought to Hogwarts. Everything I know about the wizarding world is what you've just told me. That's it."

"You must know about your parents," Hagrid said, "I mean, they were famous. You're famous too."

"What? My—my parents weren't famous, were they?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Hagrid ruffled his hair with his fingers, looking utterly perplexed as he stared at Harry.

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