The alley fell completely silent, broken only by the faint, ragged breathing of the three Dark Wizards, now no different from Muggles.
Sagres withdrew his wand and idly twirled it between his fingers, as if savoring the lingering aftertaste of the three siphonings, or sensing the slightly abnormal sluggishness of the magic within his body.
He looked down at the three figures sprawled on the ground, once-ferocious Dark Wizards, his gaze indifferent.
"Thank you for the meal.. In return, I won't leave your bodies exposed in the street."
With a casual flick of his wand, an invisible whirlwind rose from the ground, sweeping up dust, gravel, and scattered debris. Like a massive broom, it roughly bundled the three unconscious men together and hurled them into a cracked crevice in the alley, burying them completely.
The powerful Confundo was silently lifted.
The shadows of Knockturn Alley closed in once more, swallowing everything that had just occurred, as though it had never existed.
The next morning, as the first murky ray of light struggled through the window of the Leaky Cauldron, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already dressed and standing in the hall.
After the life-and-death struggle of the previous night and Sagres's guidance, the exhaustion and fear had not entirely left their faces, but deep in their eyes, a strange resilience had begun to take root.
The shadows still lingered, yet any thought of retreat seemed to be suppressed by a stronger purpose—to find Black.
"Are you sure you want to come with me?"
Harry looked at his two closest friends, his voice slightly hoarse.
Part of him actually hoped they would stay behind; the dangers of Knockturn Alley far exceeded anything he had imagined.
Hermione took a deep breath, her fingers unconsciously brushing along her wand, her knuckles paling slightly as if to reassure herself it was there.
"The bait plan is too dangerous. And…" She looked up, her gaze steady. "If Black really is there, we need to watch each other's backs. I don't feel safe with you going alone."
The memory of the ugly man's Killing Curse, that flash of green light aimed at her, still lingered vividly.
Ron's face was still a little pale, but he nodded vigorously, forcing his voice to sound steadier than he felt.
"Exactly! Besides, who knows if that… uh—I mean, Professor Greengrass—will do what he did yesterday and only show up at the critical moment…"
He glanced at the raven on Harry's shoulder and left the sentence unfinished, but the meaning was clear.
Yesterday's ordeal had given them a deeper understanding of Sagres's particular brand of "protection."
Harry looked at them, warmth mixed with guilt welling up in his chest.
He didn't argue further. "Alright. But we have to be careful this time. If anything feels wrong, we retreat immediately."
"Agreed," Hermione and Ron replied in unison.
As they stepped into Knockturn Alley once more, the stench of mold and rotting herbs rushed at them, instantly putting them on edge.
Yesterday's battlefield had returned to normal, leaving no visible trace behind, yet the lingering stench of Dark Arts in the air made every step feel unnervingly heavy.
The street seemed even darker than the day before, and the objects displayed in the shop windows on either side were even more disturbing.
Dried bat specimens floated in glass jars, towers of eyeballs glimmered with an eerie sheen, and several cages held small, unknown magical creatures that let out faint, pitiful whimpers.
Figures wrapped in tattered black robes watched them from the shadows, their gazes greedy and dangerous.
A fight had erupted here just last night, and several people had died, yet it seemed no one cared—except them.
"Care for some candy? Sweet oblivion…"
A toothless old witch with a face covered in sores suddenly leaned halfway out of the shadows of a nearby alley.
She held a filthy plate bearing several oddly colored, constantly wriggling "sweets."
"No, thank you!"
Hermione immediately dragged Harry and Ron away, her stomach roiling.
"Those sweets," Harry glanced back, "Professor Dumbledore might like them?"
Hermione shot him a sharp look.
"Care for some Amulets?! They can ward off the most vicious curses… just one Galleon…"
At another stall, a skeletal old man dangled a necklace strung with rat bones.
Ron immediately grimaced in disgust. "This place is even worse than the Forbidden Forest…"
"Oh, Luna might like that necklace," Harry muttered again.
"Who?" Ron asked, sounding a bit puzzled.
"Luna, Luna Lovegood—Ginny's good friend," Hermione replied without turning back. "How can you be her brother and not even know that?"
"Oh, her," Ron said, still unconvinced. "If you'd said 'Loony,' I'd have known."
He pursed his lips, then added, "But she really might like that rat-bone necklace."
The trio continued forward.
"Hey, red-haired boy," a hunched old witch leaning against a crumbling doorway suddenly spoke. Her voice was hoarse and low, her cloudy eyes fixed on Ron. "Do you… have a little pet? A… rat?"
Ron stopped, staring at her in surprise. "How did you know?"
He did have Scabbers tucked in his pocket. He'd been worried about leaving him alone at the Leaky Cauldron—ever since they'd returned from Egypt, Scabbers had been sickly. Lately he'd grown thin, trembling and curled up all day.
Because of that, Ron had even bought a bottle of rat tonic for him in Diagon Alley the morning before.
"Maybe she saw you buying rat tonic for Scabbers in Diagon Alley yesterday," Hermione whispered.
But Ron looked at the old witch with a spark of hope. He genuinely cared about Scabbers. He didn't have an owl, and Scabbers was the only pet he had in the family—even if he was second-hand.
The old witch pulled her toothless lips back in a creepy grin. "I 'saw' it in my crystal ball. Poor little thing… his lifeline is very faint."
Her cloudy eyes seemed to pierce straight through Ron's pocket. "And I also know why you've come here—to look for something, isn't that right?"
A fleeting, enigmatic smile crossed her face. "Something 'hidden' in the darkness."
The words slithered into the trio's ears like cold, venomous snakes.
Ron's face went pale at once, and he instinctively clutched his pocket, feeling Scabbers's faint struggles and tremors inside.
Hermione frowned deeply. Instinctively, she sensed that the old witch meant no good, yet the words "find," "hidden," and "darkness" oddly overlapped with their mission to hunt down Black.
"What… what do you mean?" Harry asked cautiously, his hand already drifting toward his wand.
"Mean?" The old witch cackled, her voice rasping. "It means… I can help you find what you seek and accomplish your goal. Because I am a… Seer."
"Come with me…" She turned unsteadily and began to shuffle toward a narrow nearby dead end, almost entirely swallowed by shadow. "I know what to do… I can help you… help you see the truth… very cheap…"
Her words were heavy with temptation, and they struck uncomfortably close to what Harry and his friends were thinking.
The young wizards exchanged a glance.
Reason told them this was likely a trap, yet the old witch's ambiguous words—especially her hints about "shadows" and "hidden things"—hooked into their hearts.
Black?
Did she really know something?
Or… was she simply exploiting their concern for Scabbers and their fear of Black?
"Let's go and see," Ron said through clenched teeth, his voice trembling slightly. "What if… what if she really does know something about Black?"
"Too dangerous," Hermione whispered. "This is obviously a trap."
"But it could also be a lead," Harry wavered as well, his fixation on Black outweighing some of his caution. "We'll be careful. If anything feels wrong, we leave immediately."
Pulled along by conflicting emotions, the trio ultimately followed the old witch step by step into the narrow dead end that reeked of rotting refuse.
Light nearly vanished here, leaving only a thin strip of pale sky filtering down from between the tall walls on either side.
The alley ended at a high wall, mottled with moss and stains, with no way out.
The old witch stopped at the base of the wall and turned around. The eerie smile on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a chilling greed and ferocity.
Her hunched body seemed to straighten just a little.
"Alright, you little brats," her voice turned sharp and cold, devoid of any trace of age. "Kekeke~ Hand over everything valuable you have—and your wands. Save this old woman the trouble!"
A withered hand stretched out from her tattered robes, nails long and black, like the claws of some beast.
Just as expected. A trap. Another damned trap.
The trio drew their wands at once, backs pressed together, hearts hammering.
Another Dark Wizard.
And judging by her behavior, an even stranger and more troublesome one.
"Caw!"
Noctis let out a sharp cry, like a bugle sounding the charge.
"Stupefy—" Ron's spell was only half spoken.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione was a step faster, a streak of blue light shooting toward the old witch.
But the witch moved with terrifying speed.
She slipped aside like a phantom, and Hermione's Petrificus Totalus slammed into the wall behind her.
At the same time, her shriveled lips moved rapidly, and a foul-smelling black current of air lashed toward Hermione like a whip.
"Protego!"
Harry reacted instantly. His Shield Charm barely managed to block the vile curse, but the barrier shuddered violently, emitting a sizzling, corrosive hiss.
"Be careful! Her magic is vile!" Harry shouted.
At that moment, something changed abruptly.
A massive, swift black shadow, carrying a rank, animal stench, lunged down without warning from the ledge above the wall.
Its target was the old witch, her back turned toward the alley entrance as she was about to cast another spell at Harry.
"Grrr—!"
A deep, feral roar exploded through the cramped space.
The black shadow slammed squarely into the witch's back, the tremendous impact knocking her straight to the ground.
She let out a shrill, broken scream, and her wand flew from her hand.
The trio stared in shock as they realized it was an enormous black dog.
Its fur was matted and filthy, but its muscles bulged with raw, savage power.
It clamped its jaws onto the witch's shoulder, sharp fangs sinking deep into her flesh, then dragged her across the filthy ground strewn with gravel and sewage like a discarded sack. With astonishing speed, it dashed toward the deeper shadows near the mouth of the alley.
"Ahhh—! Let go of me! You cursed beast!"
The witch's screams intertwined with the black dog's low growls, quickly fading as both vanished into the deeper darkness of Knockturn Alley.
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