Rain fell like beads from a broken string, striking the stone-paved streets of Diagon Alley and splashing into countless tiny droplets.
Luna held Rabbi’s body in her arms, wandering aimlessly through the curtain of rain.
Her long silver-white hair clung wetly to her cheeks.
Cold rainwater slid down the ends of her hair and dripped into her collar, bringing with it a vague chill.
After losing eighty percent of her sense of touch, this was one of the few temperatures she could still clearly feel.
She did not know how long she had been walking.
Nor did she know where she was supposed to go.
Fawley Manor had long since been left behind her.
The screams, the fear, and the chaos flickered in her mind like faded old photographs, brightening and dimming in turns.
The sight of Jonah collapsing to the floor.
The unconscious faces of her parents.
The terrified eyes of the guests.
And that dark green light that symbolized death…
All of it circled endlessly in her heart like a curse.
She had killed someone.
She had used the most forbidden of dark magic.
That realization pressed down on her like a massive stone, making it difficult to breathe.
She instinctively tightened her grip around the wand in her arms.
The coldness of its body seeped through the fabric, yet it could not calm the chaos in her heart in the slightest.
“Where do I go…”
She murmured to herself, her voice swallowed by the rain.
The Ministry of Magic would hunt her down.
The pure-blood families would despise her.
Even Hogwarts…
The acceptance letter she had only just received was still tucked inside her pocket, yet now it felt like a scorching branding iron.
Could a wizard who had used the Killing Curse still step into that castle, a place that symbolized justice and hope?
Rain blurred her vision.
The shop signs on both sides of Diagon Alley appeared vague and indistinct behind the downpour.
Inside the window of Ollivanders, countless wands gleamed faintly beneath the lights.
A sign reading “Closed Today” hung at the entrance of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.
In the display window of Flourish and Blotts, the corner of the latest edition of A History of Magic had been dampened by the rain…
These familiar sights now felt unbearably strange to her.
She was like a lonely ghost abandoned by the world, holding a cold corpse as she drifted through the rainy night.
Just then, a figure stepped out from the alley ahead and collided with her.
“Mm…”
Luna stumbled, and Rabbi nearly slipped from her arms.
She hurriedly tightened her hold and raised her head, only to meet a pair of ice-blue eyes.
It was Nora.
The witch who had effortlessly defeated the head of the Rosier family and Isabella at the Fawley banquet.
Her black wizard robes were also soaked by the rain, yet her long ice-blue hair remained smooth.
There was a hint of exhaustion on her face, as if she had only just escaped the banquet, but her eyes were astonishingly clear.
The two stared at each other for a few seconds.
Nora’s gaze fell on the cloth bundle in Luna’s arms, then swept over her pale face and the wand clutched tightly in her hand.
A flicker of understanding flashed through Nora’s ice-blue eyes, but she asked nothing.
Luna’s heart pounded wildly.
She instinctively took a step back and tightened her grip on her wand.
She did not know whether the woman before her would report her.
After all, using an Unforgivable Curse was a serious crime.
However, Nora merely raised an eyebrow, stepped aside to make way, and said in a flat tone, “Watch where you’re going.”
After saying that, she seemed about to leave.
But the instant they brushed past each other, she suddenly stopped, leaned down slightly, and moved close to Luna’s ear.
Warm breath brushed against Luna’s cold ear, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible sweetness of pumpkin pie.
“If you have nowhere to go,” Nora said in a very low voice, like rain whispering against the eaves, “you can come find me at 137 Diagon Alley.”
As soon as the words fell, she straightened, did not look at Luna again, and turned away into the depths of the rain.
Her figure quickly disappeared around the corner of the alley.
Luna stood frozen in place, Nora’s words still echoing beside her ear.
137 Diagon Alley?
What kind of place was that?
She looked in the direction where Nora had disappeared, her heart filled with confusion.
Why was that woman helping her?
Was it because both of them had caused a “scene” at the Fawley Manor banquet?
Or was it because… she knew Luna had used the Killing Curse?
The rain continued to fall without pause, striking her body and bringing with it a bone-piercing chill.
Luna lowered her head and looked at Rabbi in her arms, then touched the Hogwarts acceptance letter in her pocket.
Suddenly, a thought emerged in her mind.
Go and see.
She had nowhere else to go anyway.
What harm would there be in visiting that number 137?
Taking a deep breath, she adjusted the cloth bundle in her arms, identified the direction, and walked deeper into Diagon Alley.
Number 137, Diagon Alley, was hidden between Flourish and Blotts and an unremarkable cauldron shop.
It was a house that looked even older than the surrounding stores.
Its gray-black brick walls were mottled and worn, covered in dark green ivy.
Rain struck the leaves, producing a soft rustling sound.
A faded wooden sign hung above the entrance, with three words carved into it in ancient runes:
Merlin’s Antique Shop.
This was the place.
Luna stood at the doorway and hesitated for a moment.
The shop door was slightly ajar.
Dim yellow light spilled from within, revealing vague shapes of stacked wooden crates and shelves.
A smell of old wood and dust lingered in the air.
Although she could not smell it, that aged atmosphere seemed capable of piercing through the barrier of her senses and reaching straight into her heart.
She gently pushed the door open.
Creak—
The old hinges let out a long sigh, as if welcoming her arrival.
The inside of the shop looked even deeper and more secluded than it had from the outside.
Tall shelves stretched from the floor all the way up to the ceiling, filled with all kinds of antiques.
Rusty armor, chipped crystal balls, old books with yellowed covers, strangely shaped bronze objects…
A peculiar silence floated in the air, as if even the sound of the rain had been shut outside.
Behind the counter at the center of the shop stood a figure dressed in black robes.
The hood of the cloak covered most of their face, leaving only a pale chin and the faint curve of a smile that was not quite a smile.
It was Nora.
At some point, she had changed clothes.
Her black robe was embroidered with dark golden patterns that shimmered mysteriously beneath the dim yellow light.
She toyed with a quill in her hand.
When she saw Luna enter, she did not seem surprised at all.
Instead, she smiled and spoke, her voice still carrying that androgynous tone, though now it held a strange gentleness absent from the banquet.
“Customer, you’ve arrived.”
Luna looked at her, then at the antiques around them that radiated an ancient aura.
Suddenly, she understood.
So Nora was the owner of this antique shop.
The mysterious shopkeeper who had traded the wand to her.
“You…”
Luna opened her mouth, her throat tightening.
A thousand words surged to her lips, but she did not know what to say.
Nora stepped out from behind the counter.
The edge of her black robe dragged across the floor without making the slightest sound.
She circled Luna once, her gaze lingering briefly on the cloth bundle in her arms before finally falling on the Inkshadow Wand clenched tightly in her hand.
“It seems you used it quite well,” Nora said, a faint trace of amusement in her voice.
Luna’s fingers suddenly tightened, and a flicker of wariness flashed through her light gray eyes.
She did not know what Nora meant by that.
Was she mocking her for using the wand to kill someone?
“I know what you’re worried about.”
Nora seemed to see straight through her thoughts.
She stopped walking and stood face to face with her.
“As for your use of an Unforgivable Curse, as long as you don’t go around announcing it yourself, no one will be able to find you.”
Luna abruptly raised her head, her eyes filled with disbelief.
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