Chapter 14
After saying goodbye to Lucius, Severus did not leave Diagon Alley immediately. He headed for a small two-story building with a dark wooden sign that read: "Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary."
The moment he stepped inside, the air hit him with a dense mix of smells, herbs, potions, bitter roots. Cabinets lined the walls, their shelves packed with glass jars of dried plants, powders, and ingredients of every sort.
An elderly man in a white coat stood at a small table, looking tired.
"Hello, young man. Can I help you with something?" he asked, lifting his gaze to Severus as he inspected the vials.
"Yes." Severus pulled a folded list from his pocket and handed it over, still scanning the shelves with interest.
The pharmacist put on his glasses, read quickly, and frowned by the end.
"The last two. Stranger's Slime and Kelpie's Blood. I cannot sell you either. The blood is out of stock, and the slime requires Ministry permission, because it is most often used for cursed potions or Dark rituals."
"All right. Cross out the slime, gather everything else, and I also need a cauldron and glass flasks."
"Certainly. Give me a few minutes."
"I am in no hurry. Take your time."
"Of course." The man nodded, opened a door behind the counter, and went down the stairs.
Severus closed his eyes and whispered a few words. A wave of pale light rolled through the shop.
Shame. too many tracking charms. They were layered like cobwebs, some crude, some clever, all meant to sing the moment someone did something suspicious. And I can feel someone watching me, not with eyes, but with magic, like a pressure at the edge of my senses. That someone has power on par with Slughorn, a peak-level wizard. Not good. Even if the local wizards are weak, a fight in a crowded place would only drag in consequences: Aurors, questions, paperwork, and the kind of attention I do not want. I will have to get those two ingredients another way.
He exhaled and forced himself to abandon any thought of taking them by force. Instead, he kept browsing the shelves, as if nothing had happened.
Ten minutes later, the pharmacist returned with a tray and a ridiculous number of jars.
"That will be three hundred and forty-nine Galleons. Would you like delivery?"
"No need." Severus took out a small pouch and poured gold coins onto the table. He gathered the jars and, with a casual wave, transfigured them into needles, then slipped them into his spatial pouch under the man's wide-eyed stare.
"I see." The pharmacist tucked the money away and headed for the stairs again. "The simplest cauldron will be eleven Galleons."
"That will do."
"I will bring it now."
A few minutes later, Severus left the shop, while the owner watched after him, thoughtful.
"Tuni, did you feel anything?" the man asked.
A moment later a small wrinkled creature appeared beside him, with huge green eyes and long ears, dressed in something that looked like rags.
"Tuni saw the young mage cast a spell," the creature squeaked rapidly. "Tuni got scared and prepared to defend her master, but the young mage did nothing, so Tuni also did not go looking for trouble, like master said."
"I see. He probably noticed you," the old man murmured, then sighed and pulled out his pipe as he sat down. "Troubled times. What a dangerous young man. That control of magic. it frightens me, and it makes me envious."
After the purchase, Severus had less than a hundred Galleons left, but he still decided to stroll through Diagon Alley a little longer. Eventually his wandering carried him somewhere strange.
A narrow, darker street branched off from Diagon Alley, and the change in atmosphere was immediate. The air felt colder, the light dimmer, and even the cobbles seemed slicker, as if they had been washed with something that never quite came clean. A few small shops sat there, but there were hardly any people, and those who did pass looked far from reassuring: sharp eyes, tight mouths, hands tucked in sleeves where wands could hide. It was obvious they were not the most enlightened part of the magical world.
Severus did not care. He kept walking, ignoring the gloomy faces watching him.
"Borgin and Burkes," he read, stopping in front of a shop window stuffed with objects. "Artifacts, maybe antiques."
He went inside anyway. Among the trinkets, the glass cases full of rings, teeth, cracked mirrors, and objects that seemed to watch him back, he had spotted several swords lying in a barrel in one corner.
"Hello, young man. Has something caught your eye in my humble shop?" a man asked, voice edged with sarcasm. His face screamed slippery, the sort you should keep a hand on your wand around.
Severus studied the ten swords with interest and gave the owner almost no attention. The man, having seen far stranger customers, did not take offense.
Each of them is cursed, not a gentle curse either, but the kind that clings to metal like rot. Most of the things in this place are the same, quietly humming with malice. Selling this is illegal, and if you remember the names of the nearby shops, it is obvious where I ended up. Knockturn Alley.
Knockturn Alley was the wizarding world's black market, selling Dark artifacts, ingredients for Dark magic, and plenty of other illegal goods.
"How much for this sword?" Severus asked, pulling out a worn, plain-looking silver blade.
Disappointment flickered in the owner's eyes at the choice.
"I would recommend another. That one is ordinary. A squib without a family brought it in, so it has no antique value."
"I want it."
With a displeased hiss, the man turned and went to the counter.
"Thirty Galleons," he said irritably, took the coins, opened a book, and stopped paying attention to Severus entirely.
Severus transfigured the sword into a green needle, slipped it into his shirt pocket, and left without looking back.
It is still a decent catch, and it will do for a start.
Before he even reached the end of the street, he ducked into the next shop, one that dealt in poisons.
Only half an hour later did Severus return from Knockturn Alley to Diagon Alley, back among the legal goods. He headed toward the bar with seven Galleons left and a satisfied smile, because he had managed to get the last two ingredients, even if they had cost more than they would have with proper Ministry permission.
Now I can start building the foundation for the body and preparing the potion. The first steps were always the most tedious, the body had to be forced to accept change, and that demanded discipline. I hope Lucius finds the remaining ingredients before the school year starts, and that he does not decide to get clever. And I still need to decide what to do about Parseltongue.
While Severus was turning plans over in his head, a sharp gust of wind rushed out of a side alley, followed by a dull thud.
"Hm?" He looked down the alley and saw six cloaked wizards surrounding a lone boy. He recognized Regulus Black, the same one from earlier outside the Leaky Cauldron.
That is why you do not walk alone during times like this. Especially if your name is famous.
Three of the six fired spells at Regulus at once. He raised a barrier and held, but he could not counterattack, because the other three struck at the same moment, keeping him pinned.
It was clear they were not in a hurry to finish him. They were enjoying themselves, circling like dogs around a cornered animal, throwing insults like, "What, bloody pure-blood, where is your strength, or did you already shit yourself?" and, "You strutted around at school like a king, and now what? Swallowed your tongue? Bloody runt." One of them even laughed, loud and wet, and spat, "Blacks, Malfoys, you are all bastards. When the Dark Lord dies, you will be next in line. We will make sure of it."
Regulus tried not to respond. He knew they wanted to provoke him. Still, rage burned, because they were mocking not only the Dark Lord, whom he respected, but the entire Black family. For someone raised to put family honor above all else, it was like waving a red cloth in front of a bull.
"Need help?" Severus asked.
At that moment another spell skimmed past Regulus's leg. A transparent barrier appeared in front of him and reflected the blue beam back.
Regulus grimaced as he heard that voice and recognized Severus at once. He wanted to tell him to get lost, but he ground his teeth and nodded.
"Yes. If you help me, my family will repay you well."
"In that case, I am happy to help, but do not forget your promise." Severus turned to the six and smiled. "No offense, but you are going to die today."
The temperature in the alley surged. Flames crawled over Severus's body, and fiery spears formed behind him. They shot forward.
The six tried Protego, but the spears punched through the shields as if they were made of mist, impaled them through the chest, and the fire swallowed them whole. Their robes flared, their bodies curled, and the smell of burning filled the alley for a heartbeat. They did not even have time to scream. A second later, only ash drifted where they had stood, gray flakes settling on the stones.
Regulus went cold.
What kind of spell was that? Ordinary fire cannot burn through a body that fast.
Still trying to process what he had just seen, he noticed a dark-haired woman appear ten meters away. She held her wand straight at Severus.
"Everte."
"Stop, Bella!" Regulus shouted, but it was too late.
".statum!"
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