Alex chuckled. “Caught up with life, I guess. This is the first ce I’ve had to e back. Looks like business is booming.”

  "It's thanks to you. The menu you gave me has been a big hit! Maybe you should think about opening your own bar iure." Tom grinned as he poured a rge gss of Butterbeer and slid it across the ter to Alex.

  The two long-lost friends were finally reunited, and the versation flowed naturally. They talked about everything, from old memories to the ges in the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley over the past two years.

  Tom expined how, after the mysterious Dark Lord disappeared, wizards who had been in hiding came out in droves to celebrate. Parties and revelry filled the streets, and for a while, Tom’s bar acked to capacity every night. Business boomed, and it seemed like things were looking up.

  But this is not always the case. Urained Death Eaters emerged from the shadows, causing havoc. Many were wanted criminals, ag recklessly as they fled from capture. Some were ht lunatics. The chaos grew worse, and Diagon Alley was even pced under martial w at one point.

  However, uhe sharp leadership of Millit Bagnold, the Ministry of Magic responded swiftly. Frequent raids and arrests brought mah Eaters to justice. The riots were subdued, and those who weren’t captured went into hiding or used their influeo escape punishment. About six months ago, calm returo Diagon Alley, and the wizarding world slowly regais footing.

  “By the way,” Alex leaned in slightly, l his voice, “have you noticed any suspicious characters in Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley retly? Dark wizards, perhaps?”

  “Dark wizards?” Tom raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “You meah Eaters?” He thought for a moment before replying, “Diagon Alley is covered in wanted posters for Death Eaters. The smart ones are keeping their heads down. As for Knockturn Alley, I don’t know much. That pce is... plicated. Most folks who go there don’t e through here. They usually travel through Bin and Burkes’ firepce.”

  Alex houghtfully, a small smile pying on his lips. “I see. Just curious. Anyway, thanks for the chat. I’ll catch up with you properly aime. I o pick up a few things in Diagon Alley.”

  He waved goodbye, weaving his way through the bar’s bustling hall toward the back courtyard. Tom watched him leave, a mix of emotions on his face. Alex had ged over the past two years—his demeanor, the way he spoke, even the way he carried himself. Somethi... off, though Tom couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  Alex stepped into the courtyard, skillfully tapping the bricks to open the passage to Diagon Alley. As the archway unfolded, he was greeted by a lively se, a stark trast to the near-deserted streets he remembered from three years ago. The cobblestoreets bustled with activity. Wizards and witches of all ages wandered between shops, some setting up temporary stalls along the sides of the street. The air was thick with the sounds of bartering, ughter, and the occasional burst of magic.

  “So, this is eace looks like,” Alex muttered to himself, sing the area with a faint smile. He moved toward the edge of the street and pulled out a pass-like device from his pocket. The polished brass surface gleamed in the sunlight as he exami closely.

  “If the readings are correct, Yaxley should be here somewhere,” he murmured. “For him to remain hidden, he must have prote—either his family’s influence or a work of other Death Eaters. Either way, this will be worth my while.”

  A smirk tugged at his lips as he remembered the fight before Christmas. During that enter, he had secretly pnted several soft, needle-thin magical trackers in Yaxley’s belongings—his shoes, belt, clothes, even his underwear. The location was now dispyed through Alex’s monocle, a artifact that synized with the trackers, projeg the dire and approximate distao the target with faint, glowing symbols his vision.

  Pulling on a dark cloak to obscure his face, Alex slipped into a less crowded alley and followed the device’s guidance. His path took him past Gringotts and further north, until he arrived at a three-story stone building. It stood slightly apart from its neighbors, separated by narrow alleyways on both sides. There were no signs or storefronts—nothing to suggest it was a business or shop. The ck of any markings made it seem more like a private residence.

  Alex raised an eyebrow. “Odd pce for a home,” he muttered, the building’s prime location on one of Diagon Alley’s main streets. This wasn’t the bustling front half of the alley, but it wasn’t cheap real estate either. Any normal ercial business would likely pick a less tral, more affordable location. “Private property, maybe? A family estate?” Alex mused. But something about it didn’t sit right. The house was quiet—too quiet.

  The pointer remained fixed on the building, no matter where Alex moved. He tested the signal from the alley to the left and again from the right; the dire never wavered. “This has to be it.” He g the sealed front door. “But rushing in would be reckless. Let’s gather some intel first.”

  Choosing several vantage points around the building, Alex began a thh surveilnce. Across the street stood the Sparkflint & Co, known for produg Floo powder, its gates firmly shut for the evening. To one side of the building was the The Ented Kettle, bustling with ers, while the other side was fnked by Gringotts.

  Through the café window of Diagon Alley, Alex spotted an acquaintance: Emmeline Vance. She sat by the window, leisurely sipping coffee, her gaze occasionally drifting sideways toward a house tucked away across the street. It was Yaxley’s house. ‘Oh? The Aurors or maybe the Order of the Phoenix have their eyes on him too. Looks like my dedus that day weren’t far off. Has Dumbledore also started following this trail? Could he be trying to ect the dots?’

  Alex adjusted his cloak, pulling it tighter to ceal his face. ‘But why don’t they just barge in and make an arrest? What’s so special about this Yaxley that they’re being so cautious?’

  He mulled it over, but his ck of information frustrated him. Clearly, he o dig deeper, but directly snooping around the house wasn’t an option. Emmeline’s prese the café ruled out any ce of subtle observation, leaving him with oernative: the adjoiniy pharmacy. Deade, Alex strode purposefully across the street and pushed open the door to Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions .