"Don't know... How many?" Illari asked innocently.
Byrd choked, "Anyway, stop asking! Let's go quickly! If we stay longer, we're going to be watched!"
...
After entering Knockturn Alley, the black-robed wizard stood by the wall for a while, using the reflection to determine that the occasional wizards they bumped into seemed not to be suspicious, which made him sigh in relief.
An old wizard, whose face was smudged with soot and features indistinguishable, approached. Looking at the black-robed wizard with unfriendly eyes, she grinned, revealing a mouthful of incomplete, black teeth.
In a hoarse voice like that of a wandering vagabond, the old wizard said, "Looking to buy something? All are top-grade goods."
He opened his cloak, revealing inside a dozen shrunken human heads, some cursing softly, others glaring at the black-robed wizard with sticky, evil intent, while others widened their mouths as if trying to bite nearby heads.
Without any words, the black-robed wizard pulled out his magic wand and waved it forcefully, creating a deep crack on the dirty ground, which slid past the old wizard's toes.
Startled, the old wizard jumped back, accidentally falling over. Cheers echoed from within the cloak, and several mouths bit down without hesitation.
The old wizard howled and rolled, forcibly tearing the heads off himself, beating them with a bone stick, causing screams to resound.
The black-robed wizard glanced at him coldly, carefully shifted the swaddle to his chest, covered it again with his cloak, then swiftly moved past the old wizard and entered Borgin and Burkes.
The heads' screams stopped, and several pairs of eyes stared fixedly in that direction.
"Darkness... darkness..."
They whispered:
"How wicked the darkness is..."
...
"Ding ding..."
The bell on the counter rang as the hunchbacked Mr. Borgin quickly came out.
"Welcome, sir — How may I assist you?"
He said in a slick tone, scanning the black-robed wizard quickly, with particular focus on the protrusion at his chest.
— A child? Or a corpse?
In a shop like this in Knockturn Alley, standing firm for hundreds of years, Mr. Borgin had naturally encountered all kinds of dark wizards and dangerous dark magic items.
He was not interested in the identity or secrets of the black-robed wizard, only in how much income the wizard could bring him.
The black-robed wizard placed a hefty money pouch on the counter. With a thud, the mouth of the pouch opened, revealing a large heap of glittering Galleons.
Mr. Borgin's eyes widened, his smile growing more sincere and radiant: "What would you like to purchase, my esteemed sir?"
"I want to buy many things," the black-robed wizard said in a low voice, taking a roll of parchment from his pocket and placing it on the counter. "Can you get everything listed here?"
Mr. Borgin put on a pince-nez and carefully examined it.
"Hemlock, mandrake, aconite, phoenix tail feather, unicorn horn, troll heart..."
He smiled, "Apart from the sphinx feathers and wendigo claws, which will take a few days, I can provide the rest right now."
"Very well." The black-robed wizard poured a heap of Galleons onto the table, saying: "I don't have much time, kindly prepare them promptly."
"Certainly, certainly! Right away!"
Mr. Borgin jogged into the back room, and the shop fell silent instantly.
A few minutes later, the black-robed wizard emerged from Borgin and Burkes carrying a box.
The old wizard at the door had vanished, and afar, a few shady figures lingered — a unique "scenery" of Knockturn Alley that never disappears, which the black-robed wizard paid no mind.
At that moment, a thin, sharp voice arose from his chest —
"Snake venom... buy it from Bagwell's shop."
"Yes, Master," the black-robed wizard murmured softly, lowering his head.
He surveyed his surroundings and spotted Bagwell's shop sign nearby, then walked over.
As he moved, the collar of his cloak shifted, vaguely revealing a very peculiar baby within.
It appeared reddish, seemingly without skin or hair, like covered with tiny scales, its head gazing out with an eerie serpentine face, red eyes glowing.
It peered through the gap at the cold, vast world outside, eyes harboring evil, violence, and a frightening soul in its young body.
The cold wind swept by, lifting the snowflakes from the roof eaves, prompting the black-robed wizard to pull his cloak tightly, shielding the baby from the cold while also concealing the peculiar face.
...
"Ding—"
The elevator emitted a crisp sound, its gate-like door clattering open.
"Department of Mysteries."
A cold woman's voice spoke.
"This way, please follow me."
A wizard with a wooden expression led the way, followed by several imposing wizards, at the forefront was the lion-like Auror Director Scrimgeour, closely trailed by Kingsley Shacklebolt.
The group quickly passed through an empty corridor, stopping at a modest black door.
"Bode, is this the Department of Mysteries?" A curious Auror at the back inquired.
"Yes, this is it." The wizard with the wooden expression replied.
He opened the door, and everyone filed inside.
Inside was a massive circular room, black walls, black floor, with twelve identical black doors on the walls, with blue flame candles in the middle of the doors.
The candles automatically lit upon everyone's entrance, yet the room remained extraordinarily dark, as if light was devoured by the floor and walls.
Bode identified the direction, then went straight to one of the black doors, opened it, and bright light shone through.
Scrimgeour and the others proceeded, the younger Auror at the back craned his neck, eager to glimpse the scene within.
It was a square room, with a table in the center and a massive glass tank filled with ink-green liquid, inside which some white things flitted about, resembling jellyfish.
"Is this the Brain Hall?" Scrimgeour asked.
"Yes, it is." Bode replied.
"Are those... human brains?"
The young Auror asked in shock, immediately covering his mouth under Scrimgeour's stern gaze.
"You said someone broke in here..." Kingsley asked, "Did you lose anything? Or did the intruder do anything here?"
Bode slowly raised his head, looking at Kingsley, taking a while before he spoke: "We do not know."
Kingsley was taken aback, "What do you mean?"
Bode said, "There's no fixed number of brains here, sometimes increasing spontaneously, sometimes dwindling to one or two, so we don't know how many there are, nor if any have been stolen."
"What the intruder did here, we cannot tell either — the Brain Hall is one of the most mysterious places in the Department of Mysteries, because thoughts are unpredictable, intangible."
"Alright, let's get to work." Scrimgeour interrupted them, saying: "Try to trace the intruder... but don't approach the tank."
"Yes!"
The Aurors responded in unison and began investigating.
All were uniquely skilled in their fields, and quickly detected subtle magic traces and remnants of footprints, each noted down.
Using a magic wand, Kingsley guided a fine green mist into a crystal bottle for preservation.
"An experienced fellow." He heard a colleague mumbling, "Most valuable clues have been destroyed, except..."
They all glanced at the tank.
Only beside the tank did traces linger, likely the intruder didn't want to cause serious damage to the brains within.
Marks extended into the tank's interior, but Scrimgeour forbade them from approaching the tank for investigation, while Bode the Unspeakable vigilantly watched alongside, as if they were the thieves.