Inside the Gryffindor Head of House’s office.
Surrounded by more than a dozen containers full of souls, Thorne sat properly across from Professor McGonagall’s desk.
The containers sat quietly, white gas-liquid slowly swirling inside them.
Professor McGonagall set down the letter of self-criticism in her hands and rubbed her temples, her voice clearly exhausted.
“Professor Thorne, I’ll say it again.” She looked up at him.
“Hogwarts is the safest place in the entire wizarding world.” “Therefore, the minimum requirement for our course content is that it must not harm the students.” She paused, clearly recalling yesterday’s scene.
“If what happened between you and Professor Snape yesterday got out, Britain would probably have a brand-new magic school by the next day.” Thorne watched with some regret as Professor McGonagall picked up her quill and cleanly crossed out an entire bolded section of classroom content from the self-criticism letter.
It seemed his original plan to teach the “quick mastery of condensation” technique was completely dead.
From now on, they would have to teach it the slow way—by passing on experience and letting students gradually figure it out on their own.
McGonagall set the self-criticism letter aside and picked up another sheet of paper.
After glancing at it, she raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Leave request?” Thorne nodded immediately.
“Yes, Professor.
I’m planning to go to Diagon Alley to buy some things.” “The headmaster already advanced me my first month’s salary, so I can get a wand and a new set of robes at the same time.” As he spoke, he unconsciously tugged at the heavily patched old clothes he was wearing.
That Sectumsempra really was an expensive curse… This was basically the only wearable set of clothes he had in the wizarding world right now.
McGonagall pressed her lips together, her expression slightly strange.
“Actually…” She looked at Thorne, her tone hesitant.
“Professor Thorne, why did you even fill this out?” She pointed at the leave request form.
“If you want to leave the school, you can just go whenever you like.
Who told you that you had to fill this out?” Thorne was silent for a second.
“…Professor Snape.” “Oh.” McGonagall nodded with an “I see” expression.
“Then it’s fine.
He’s allowed to mess with you.” She set the paper down and frowned again.
“However, going alone… won’t that be a bit unsafe?” She thought for a moment, then added, “If you need it, I can arrange for a few Hogwarts house-elves to accompany you.” “No need.” Thorne quickly waved his hands.
“I’ll use the Floo Network to the Leaky Cauldron and meet up with Hagrid.
With him there, there shouldn’t be any problems.” “Right, it is today.” McGonagall nodded slightly.
“Then you can use my fireplace directly.
At this time of day, only the Head of House offices still have active fireplaces.” She looked up at Thorne.
“Would you like me to show you how to use it?” Thorne shook his head confidently.
“No need, Professor.
I already asked Hagrid about it yesterday.” McGonagall nodded and didn’t say anything more.
It wasn’t until half an hour after Thorne had left through the Floo Network that Professor McGonagall suddenly raised her head, her brows slowly knitting together.
“…Hiss.” She thought for a moment.
“Hagrid’s size… can he even use the Floo Network?” — At the same time.
Knockturn Alley, Number 13B.
Inside the gloomy, narrow shop, the air was filled with a stale, pungent smell.
A short, sleazy-looking man stood in front of the counter and gently placed a tightly wrapped brown-paper package on the surface.
He then reached out and rang the small bell beside it.
The crisp ringing echoed through the shop.
“Heh.
A rare guest.” From behind the counter, a hunched, stooped man slowly appeared.
As he spoke, he ran a hand through his oily, shiny hair, revealing a calculating face.
“What good stuff did you dig up this time?” The sleazy man licked his lips, unable to hide his excitement.
“Borgin, this time I brought out my best stock.” He lowered his voice.
“If you take this, I’ll be able to do a really big job.” His eyes unconsciously flicked toward the back of the shop, as if checking something, before he forced himself to calm down.
“Heh.
A big job?” Borgin sneered.
“Planning to rob Gringotts?” As he spoke, he had already reached out to unwrap the brown paper.
After glancing at the contents, he gave a small nod.
“Not bad.” Borgin closed the package again and looked up.
“How much?” Before he could finish, he sensed something was wrong.
The sleazy man’s gaze was still drifting toward the back of the shop, and his expression had become somewhat stiff.
Borgin’s face darkened instantly, his tone turning colder.
“Listen here, you rat.
I’m warning you.” He said, “If you try anything with my shop, I wouldn’t mind selling you to some witch so she can grow mushrooms on you.” The sleazy man immediately shrank his neck and waved his hands repeatedly.
“Relax, relax.
I wouldn’t dare… wouldn’t dare.” Only then did Borgin snort coldly.
“Fine.
Then name your price.” He changed the subject and narrowed his eyes again.
“By the way, where are those two thugs who usually follow you around?
You used to always have two hard cases with you.” “Especially the little one.
He even dared to use an Unforgivable.
The Ministry’s got a nationwide warrant out for him now.” “Oh… them…” The sleazy man lowered his head and answered vaguely.
“They’re… hiding.
You know how it is…” As he spoke, he couldn’t help glancing toward the back of the shop again out of the corner of his eye, a trace of poorly hidden tension flashing across his face.
— At the same time.
Deep inside the shop, an extremely faint magical fluctuation quietly spread out.
Immediately after, two figures appeared in the shadows—one taller, one shorter—as if they had been “squeezed” out of thin air.
“Heh.
This thing really is useful.” The younger boy laughed quietly.
He looked no older than fourteen.
He was holding a music box with the lid half-open, as if it was playing music, but strangely, no sound could be heard in the shop.
“Borgin didn’t notice us at all.” There was clear pride in the younger boy’s voice.
“Turns out this thing makes people focus on whatever’s right in front of them.” The older boy shook his head, voice low.
“Stop wasting time.
Move fast.
We don’t have long.” As he spoke, he had already pulled out an unremarkable-looking leather wallet from his waist.
The wallet looked like it could barely hold a few coins, but when he gave it a shake, the dark magic items on the counter were one after another sucked inside.
Whether they were heavy metal instruments or large magical artifacts, they all disappeared into the wallet without resistance, as if it was connected to an endlessly expanding space.
And before every item was taken, the younger boy would first wave his wand and cast a simple counter-curse on it, ensuring the attached dark magic wouldn’t backlash onto them for a short time.
“Tsk.
As expected of the biggest dark magic item shop.” The younger boy worked while speaking excitedly in a low voice.
“If we sell this stuff on the black market, the gold we get could fill a swimming pool.” Although the older boy didn’t reply, the slight upward curve at the corner of his mouth already betrayed his current mood.
The younger boy tried to stuff a large pile of magic books into the wallet as well, but the older boy stopped him.
“Hey, have you ever seen a thief steal books?
Stealing books doesn’t even count as stealing.
This stuff isn’t worth anything.” The younger boy nodded and put the books back, continuing to cast spells.
The two of them kept searching deeper inside.
Soon they passed by a long-abandoned old fireplace.
The younger boy stopped and tried to cast an anti-dark-magic spell on a necklace beside the fireplace, but the moment his wand lit up, a strong backlash knocked it back.
“Tsk… the dark magic on this one is too strong.” The two of them exchanged a look, both looking somewhat troubled.
Just then— Thud!
A dull, heavy sound of something falling suddenly rang out.
Both boys turned around almost at the same time.
Inside the old fireplace, green flames that hadn’t fully died down were still flickering.
In front of the fireplace, a man covered head to toe in coal dust and looking extremely disheveled was struggling to get up from the floor.
“Ptooey!
Ptooey!
Ptooey!” The man spat out the ash in his mouth while cursing under his breath.
“Damn it… Why is wizard transportation so filthy?
It’s way worse than dream doors.” He patted the dust off his clothes, his tone full of disgust.
“I wonder when I’ll be able to get my hands on that thing again… Will the system give it to me?” The words he said were hard for both boys to understand, but that didn’t stop them from recognizing it as a threat.
The younger boy had already raised his wand on reflex, his eyes cold.
But the older boy suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist, hissing in a low voice, “Calm down.” The soot-covered man seemed to notice the movement and raised his head.
He froze for a moment, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the two boys and the mess of goods on the floor.
Then his eyebrows slowly rose.
“Thieves?” The moment the word left his mouth, the older boy let go of the younger boy’s hand.
The younger boy let out a furious roar.
“Avada Kedavra.” The next instant, a blinding green light flashed.
The curse light struck the man squarely in the chest without any obstruction.
The powerful impact sent his entire body flying backward, slamming heavily into the fireplace.
Bang!
The man’s body disappeared deep into the fireplace.
He didn’t even have time to scream before falling completely silent.
The back of the shop returned to dead silence.
The younger boy’s chest rose and fell violently.
His wand was still stiffly raised in mid-air.
He stood there in a daze for several seconds, as if he hadn’t yet recovered from what had just happened.
It wasn’t until the older boy stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder that he reacted.
“It’s fine…” His voice was deliberately lowered.
“He’s already dead.” The younger boy mechanically turned his head, his throat tight.
“R-really?” He swallowed unconsciously.
“Should we… check?” The older boy shook his head, but his gaze remained warily fixed toward the front of the shop.
Borgin’s voice could still be faintly heard, still haggling with the sleazy man.
Clearly, he hadn’t noticed anything that had just happened back here.
“No need.” His tone was certain.
“That was the Killing Curse.
So far, only one person has ever survived it.” “Don’t think about it anymore.” Only then did the younger boy slowly lower his wand.
Even so, his eyes remained empty and unfocused, as if something had been drained from him.
The older boy glanced at him and frowned slightly.
“Forget it.
You rest for now.” “I’ll finish the rest.” With that, he turned around and continued stuffing the dark magic items one by one into the wallet, his movements practiced and calm.
The younger boy simply stood there, staring at his back.
His fingers were still trembling slightly, beyond his control.
This was the first time he had killed someone.
Before this, he had only used the curse to scare people.
He hadn’t expected the day to come so quickly.
The shock, the blankness, and the delayed fear twisted together, making his thoughts sluggish.
After a while, he took a deep breath and was about to step forward to help.
Suddenly, a faint but clear sound came from behind them.
Scrape.
Scrape.
Scrape.
Both boys turned around almost at the same time.
The man who should have been “dead” was now shakily standing up in front of the fireplace.
He wiped the blood from his nose with one hand.
The bloodstains stood out starkly against his soot-covered face.
The next moment, he raised his head.
His eyes were filled with murderous light as he stared straight at the two boys in front of him.
“Avada Kedavra?” The man bared his teeth in a savage grin.
“I’ll blow your fucking head open!” As soon as the words left his mouth, a small white soul began to coalesce in front of him.