Chapter 97. Borgin and Burkes and Lucius
"Quirrell?"
Adrian Wesson quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and hid behind a pillar by the door of a nearby shop.
Quirrell—or rather, Lord Voldemort—was slowly walking out of Knockturn Alley.
His whole body was swathed in black robes, his face buried in shadow.
However, that distinctive purple turban had already given him away.
That was why Adrian could recognise him at a glance.
Voldemort did not hesitate in the slightest; he walked straight past Adrian without realising that someone was skulking in the corner, furtively watching him.
Soon, Voldemort's figure vanished from Adrian's line of sight.
What was Voldemort doing in Diagon Alley? Shopping?
Adrian couldn't help being curious.
Even so, he chose not to follow Voldemort—the risk and uncertainty were far too great.
In that case, poking around Knockturn Alley might be a better choice.
Adrian decided on the spot. He lifted the Disillusionment Charm and took from his inner pocket a bottle of Polyjuice Potion he had prepared in advance.
After drinking it, Adrian became a stubbly, middle-aged man—one of those faces that would disappear in a crowd.
To be safe, he also transfigured his robes into a black cloak that covered his limbs and face.
Only after doing all this did Adrian step out from behind the pillar and head into Knockturn Alley.
Strolling through Knockturn Alley was not a pleasant experience.
The dark, damp alley reeked of mould and rot, and the flagstones underfoot were clammy and slick.
Adrian had to step carefully to avoid the suspicious dark stains on the ground—possibly vomit, or something worse.
He even spotted a few pairs of glowing red eyes watching from a shadowed side passage.
Fortunately, no one odd tried to chat him up or attack him.
Moments later, Adrian arrived at the door of Borgin and Burkes.
This antique shop, run by Mr Borgin and Mr Burke, was the most famous establishment in Knockturn Alley.
Its owners didn't make their money selling antiques, but by dabbling in grey-area dealings or hawking objects imbued with Dark magic.
Adrian could sum up most of the items inside in one line: they looked frightening, but most of them were useless junk.
Right now, however, what caught Adrian's attention wasn't the assorted Dark artefacts—it was the figure he saw through a narrow gap in the window.
Lucius Malfoy.
The instant he saw that long, pale blond hair, Adrian recognised him.
Hoping to glean more, Adrian pushed open the door of Borgin and Burkes without fuss.
Polyjuice Potion truly was a wonderful thing.
The shopkeeper was engrossed in conversation with Lucius and paid no attention to Adrian's entrance.
So Adrian pretended to browse the shelves.
The wares in Borgin and Burkes were in dreadful disorder; every shelf seemed crammed to the corners.
When Adrian reached the shelf nearest Lucius, their conversation finally reached his ears.
"...have everything packed up and sent over within a week, except for unicorn blood," Lucius said, utterly unruffled. "Don't try anything underhand, or you know what happens."
"Of course, Mr Malfoy," the shopkeeper said, rubbing his hands obsequiously. "Rest easy, have I ever tried anything underhand with you? But you know, those items cost a fortune—we'll need a deposit first.
"As for the price..."
At that, Lucius felt an urge to curse.
Judging by past dealings, there would certainly be flaws in the merchandise—Borgin and Burkes was like that; its proprietors would find every way to bleed a customer dry.
Thinking of this, Lucius couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
Not long ago, the man who often haunted his nightmares had come to him.
When Lucius learned that Voldemort had returned, his heart nearly stopped.
Even in a weakened state, Voldemort was not someone Lucius dared to slight.
Having been a Death Eater for so long, he knew all too well how terrifying the Dark Lord was. He also knew that so long as Voldemort still lived, there was a chance for him to rise again.
And right now, in Voldemort's eyes, Lucius was not loyal. The truly loyal Death Eaters were still in Azkaban, keeping company with the Dementors.
Fortunately, Voldemort did not require his loyalty.
The reason Voldemort had sought him out was simple—Galleons.
Yes, Voldemort had ordered him to prepare many precious items to replenish his strength, even including unicorn blood.
Which was exactly why Lucius was here today.
For all that the proprietor was a black-hearted huckster, he could indeed procure many rare objects one didn't usually see.
Of course, unicorn blood couldn't be bought.
From the words exchanged between Lucius and the shopkeeper—and combined with the recent disturbances in the Forbidden Forest—Adrian easily pieced together what was happening.
Voldemort wanted rare materials to stave off his body's collapse, so he had come to Lucius.
Lucius's greatest virtue wasn't moral—only wealth.
The power of Galleons was truly formidable.
At this point, the discussion between Lucius and the shopkeeper broke off, for Lucius had tossed down a rather large pouch and departed.
Judging by the sound it made, the pouch was full of Galleons. After pocketing the deposit, the shopkeeper naturally turned his attention to Adrian, who was loitering among the shelves. He walked over and said, "Hello, customer. I'm one of the proprietors here—you may call me Mr Borgin."
Adrian nodded and said casually, "Hello, Mr Borgin."
Mr Borgin's hair hung sleek and shiny, framing his face.
Adrian found the look faintly comical, but for politeness' sake he didn't laugh.
Borgin edged closer until Adrian could clearly smell the greasy odour clinging to him.
"As a matter of fact," Borgin said with a hint of displeasure, "in this shop, you need to show your face."
Adrian had never heard of such a rule, but he pulled back his hood all the same.
After all, his face right now was false.
"That will do," Borgin said with a slight smile. "Now then, do you need to buy or sell anything? Mm... even troublesome items are acceptable."
Perhaps because he had just closed a major deal, Borgin was in high spirits and proceeded to pitch all sorts of odds and ends to Adrian.
These included a withered human hand, a bald mannequin head, and a misshapen bone...
Under Mr Borgin's enthusiastic persuasion, Adrian actually bought the withered hand.
In the end, Adrian left the shop carrying the hand.
"Finally got rid of that thing..."
Borgin's pleased mutter drifted out from within.
Adrian was silent for a moment.
To be honest, this was one of the very few useful things he could find in Borgin and Burkes.
The dried hand was called a Hand of Glory, a Dark artefact. When a candle was placed in it, only the person holding it could see the light; that light could even pierce magical smoke screens.
Of course, Adrian had no idea what situation he would ever use it in.
Perhaps he could just set it in his office—and give Harry a good scare when he visited.
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