001 Night of Shadows

December 27, 1992.

Just after Christmas, Oxford Street in London's West End is already full of people, and piles of Muggles wearing brand new clothes take to the streets. The children are laughing and playing, and young people exchange sincere New Year wishes. Everyone has a yearning for a better life in their hearts, and even the heavy snow cannot wipe the smiles off their faces.

For wizards, Christmas is also the most important festival of the year, but the way wizarding families celebrate Christmas is quite different from that of Muggles.

They prefer to stay in the warmth of their rooms, listening to the crackling of the fire in the fireplace, sitting under a Christmas tree covered in silver frost and adorned with magical ornaments, discussing Quidditch or the latest news.

Therefore, Diagon Alley, the business center of wizards, is always particularly quiet during the New Year, not to mention Knockturn Alley, which is considered sparsely populated even on ordinary days.

Clang, clang, clang!

Bryan, hidden under a large black cloak, steps down from the same Gringotts cart, trying to maintain his indifferent demeanor despite his overwhelmed stomach.

The air is filled with the putrid smell of fermented slug mucus soaked in rotting frog viscera. The rough ground is wet, and rows of upside-down torches are neatly suspended in mid-air. The bright green flames they emit cast an eerie glow, reflecting off the vast expanse of the underground karst caves like ghostly apparitions.

Bryan looks around, and about 200 feet away on the left is the "pet" market. There sits a fifteen-foot-tall giant, its limbs tightly bound by thick and thin iron chains, as it sits weakly on the ground, almost blending in with the dark rock walls.

Its owner is an old hag from Moldova with missing teeth, who brought it here hoping to sell the troll for a good price to fund her treatment for dragon pox.

Unfortunately, it has been on sale for two years, and no one shows any interest.

At this moment, the old witch leans on the toes of the slave, cursing a large group of house-elves nearby for polluting the environment.

These house-elves are a group of beings who have lost their masters and gained their freedom.

Of course, using the word 'freedom' to describe an elf is as inappropriate as using the word 'brutes' to describe a centaur, and it won't earn you any gratitude.

Most of these poor creatures once belonged to small wizarding families or mystical sects. Their owners vanished for various reasons, leaving the elves to be forced into freedom.

Not having a master is a terrifying thing for house-elves, almost robbing them of their sense of purpose. So, these little ones gathered here spontaneously, hoping to find a new master.

But to be honest, apart from some dark wizards who need living materials to experiment with spells and potions, no one pays them any attention.

The giant creature is quite friendly towards the elves. Bryan once saw the hungry giant slap several of them to death, stuffing them into its mouth and relishing the meal.

Apart from trolls and elves, in the "pet" market that reeks like a toilet, you can find many other interesting creatures. For example, a centaur who lost the protection of its herd and was accidentally captured by Veela, or caged vampires, or even Irish leprechauns, highly sought after as live specimens.

Basically, except for the forbidden magical animals such as fire dragons and unicorns, you can find most of the existing magical creatures in the wizarding world in the pet market of the underground.

The trading market on the right, under the rock wall, still maintains the simple style of the European Middle Ages, but the items sold on the stalls scattered on the ground are anything but simple.

There are books on black magic from ancient Greece, potions that greatly enhance one's magical power but have inexplicable side effects, and alchemical items that can annihilate life on a large scale in an instant. In short, compared to these things, the products sold in novelty shops can only be considered prank items loved by young wizards, and the devil's snare sold here is only suitable for decorative potted plants.

Bryan even sees the seed of the Black Death curse that once ravaged all of Europe, sold by an Italian wizard. According to the seller, the curse in his possession has been weakened, but if unleashed, it could easily kill the Muggles in a city.

Of course, the curse seed has an astonishing price to match its effect; otherwise, Bryan would be tempted to buy it and study it.

And this is the dark side of the magical world, a truly lawless place.

After a while, feeling better, Bryan starts walking towards the center of the cave, gradually merging with the sparse crowd.

Most of the people active here are wearing black robes, not wanting to be seen.

Only a small number of unscrupulous lunatics and wizards passing through England dare to show their faces in front of the Ministry of Magic's undercover agents.

Yes, you heard that right.

There are Aurors secretly stationed in the underground world of Knockturn Alley, but their presence is only to monitor that nothing "outrageous" occurs here, not to eradicate it, unless the Ministry of Magic wants to engage in a war with all the ancient British genre wizards and dark wizards.

In the center of the cave, there is a square area enclosed by low granite walls, serving as the consignment market of the underground world. At one end of the courtyard wall stands a tall notice board. On the snake-grained wooden board, hundreds of consignment letters, glowing brightly with red magical contracts, are pasted, silently waiting for someone to take them down.

Bryan stands beneath the sign and scans the area, but doesn't find any valuable consignments. He turns around and sits on a stone bench, waiting for his trading partner to arrive.

Perhaps due to the arrival of the new year, the place is empty, except for two people conversing about ten feet away to the right in the vast area.

One of them wears a brown linen robe, and his bald head is covered in pustules and scabies. He resembles an eighty-year-old wizard. When he hears the movement, he raises his head to look at Bryan.

Seemingly disdainful of Bryan hiding his true face beneath the twisted magic vortex, the old wizard bares his mouth, revealing only three or two yellow teeth. He exhales a foul breath. The skin on his back is scorched black like old bark, while the other half is covered with tender, tentacle-like granulations wriggling incessantly, creating a hideous sight.

However, as soon as the old wizard notices the golden snake embroidered on Bryan's neckline, he quickly restrains his repulsive smile, nods politely, and looks away.

Bryan finds the old wizard's peculiar appearance intriguing.

If he's guessing correctly, it must be the result of a failed soul-splitting spell during the creation of a Horcrux, leading to serious damage from the magic's backlash.

As far as Bryan knows, there is only one thing that can slow down the spread of the curse's damage, and the following conversation between the two individuals confirms his suspicion.

"It's very difficult to handle and very dangerous. You know there's only one place

in England where you can find unicorns!" says the skinny wizard opposite the old wizard, cautiously pulling out a glass vial from under his black robe. The shiny liquid inside stands out in the dark underground world.

The old wizard understands what he means, and he sneers sharply. He also takes out a fist-sized piece of mithril from his pocket and throws it on the table. "Of course, of course, not many people would like to do it here. It's Dumbledore's fault. I've been waiting for this for a while. You're quite courageous. I admire that," the old wizard responds.

Transactions in the underground world are always straightforward, and bargaining is rare. If an agreement cannot be reached, one simply kills the other.

Bryan watches the old wizard with great interest. After seeing him take the glass, sniff it carefully, and pour its contents into his mouth, a playful expression appears on his face through the blurred light and shadows.

At this point, it's important to note that due to the shortcomings of traditional magical education, school wizards can be extremely proficient in certain areas but equally ignorant and dangerous in others, similar to apprentices who have just started learning magic. Modern magical education may not produce extraordinary talents, but it at least provides a balanced education.

Knowledge balance is crucial.

For the current deal, any competent Hogwarts student who has passed their Ordinary Wizarding Level (OWL) exams would not be fooled by a Transfiguration potion with two unicorn feathers added.