Inside, Ms. Primpernelle was in high spirits. Sihe lifting of martial w in Diagon Alley, her business had bounced back, even exceeding pre-lockdown levels. Hearing the bell over the door, she turned with a weling smile, expeg another er ready to splurge. However, the sight of a figure cloaked so heavily gave her pause.

  This wasirely unusual—she had seey of witches botch potion experiments and e seeking remedies for all sorts of disfigurements. Her shop’s motto, proudly dispyed above the ter, was ‘No fw too big, no face beyond help!’ With her practiced sales pit the tip of her tongue, she greeted the visitor.

  “Wele, dear dy! You’ve e to the right po matter how troublesome the issue, our potions help—” She froze mid-sentence as the cloaked figure lowered his hood, revealing not a troubled witch but a young, strikingly handsome wizard.

  The suddeio her momentarily at a loss. Was this a young man seeking a gift for someone else? Or perhaps a victim of a potion mishap? After all, she’d once dealt with a witch who actally gave herself a cat face. But before she could recover and decide how to address him, the wizard spoke first. “Hello,” Alex said with a polite smile. “I’m here to pick out a gift for an elder in my family. Do you have any reendations?”

  Ms. Primpernelle quickly posed herself, her professional instincts kig in. “Ah, I see! What a thoughtful young man you are. Is this gift to address wrinkles, brighten the plexion, or simply enhaheir beauty?” she asked, her tone suddenly warm and ingratiating.

  Alex didn’t miss a beat. “My aunt has been feeling run down tely. She’s had a lot oe, and it’s starting to show. I thought something to help her feel refreshed might be nice.”

  Ms. Primpernelle’s face lit up. “Oh, then I have just the thing! Our shop’s signature Moonlit Veil Tonic is perfect for this. Apply it m and night, and it tightens the skin, deys aging, aores a radiant plexion. It’s our best-seller!” She led Alex to a dispy case, picked up a beautifully packaged bottle, and applied a small amount to the back of her hand. As she spread it, the potion visibly smoothed and firmed her skin.

  Alex took the bottle, uncorked it, and discreetly sniffed. His brow furrowed ever so slightly—it smelled like a diluted version of the beauty potion he’d once brewed himself to make extra money. While effective, it was retively simple to prepare and inexpensive in terms of ingredients. The only real cost came from its lengthy produ time. He g the price tag: two Galleons per bottle. ‘A real racket,’ he thought, marveling at the markup. ‘Half of this is diluted. No wonder women’s products are such a goldmine.’

  Still, he maintained a pleasant expression. “I’ll take a bottle. Please it up for me.” Ms. Primpernelle beamed at his easy agreement and swiftly packaged the potion, clearly delighted with the sale. As she worked, Alex adopted a casual tone. “By the way,” he said, gng toward the wall that separated the pharmacy from the adjat house, “do you happen to know who owns the pext door? My family’s sidering opening a shop in Diagon Alley, and that location seems det. But it doesn’t look like it’s being used for anything.”

  Ms. Primperiffened slightly at the question but quickly masked her rea with a smile. “Oh, opening a shop, are you? What kind of business would it be?”

  Alex, notig her hesitation, reassured her. “An alchemy props store. Diagon Alley doesn’t have many options for that, apart from the odd boutique that focuses on Quidditch supplies.”

  She visibly rexed. “Ah, I see. That wouldn’t pete with my business, then.” L her voice slightly, she added, “But if you’re eyeing the house door, I’m afraid you might run into some trouble.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?” Alex pressed, feigning casual curiosity.

  “It’s been ages since a mert lived in that house, and no one really knows who owns it anymore. The owner’s identity has always been a mystery,” Ms. Primpernelle said, pausing as if trying to recall something. “But retly, I’ve noticed Julia Malfoy going in and out of there. Oh, wait, I mean Julia Travers. I always fet she married into the Travers family. Maybe you could ask them for more details.”

  ‘Travers.’ Hearing that name, Alex’s thoughts clicked into pce. ‘So it’s you again. Seems like trouble really does love pany,’ he mused with a hint of sarcasm, though he kept his expressioral.

  Ms. Primpericed his silend carried on, uerred. “If you’re thinking of opening an alchemy shop, let me give you some advice: don’t. Those fiddly alchemy items never sell well here in the UK, and when they break, good luck fixing them. Isn’t that stuff more of aian specialty anyway? There used to be an alchemy shop in Diagon Alley, but it didn’t st long. They went bankrupt pretty quickly. If your family really wants to i, why not open a bar? Tom’s pub is packed every day. You ’t g with that kind of business.”

  Alex gave her a polite smile, paid for the potion, a without looking back, ign her overly friendly farewell. Outside, he examihe potion bottle in his hand. The tents were subpar, but the bottle itself was surprisingly nice. ‘At least the tainer’s worth keeping. I’ll empty this junk out and use it for something else when I get back.’

  After tug the bottle away, Alex made his way to the Owl Post Office. He wrote a quiote to Augusta, letting her know he’d be staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the night to “catch up with Tom” and that she didn’t o wait up. He also asked her to have her reply to him promptly.

  With that taken care of, Alex donned his cloak and took up a discreet position in a narrow alley across from the mysterious house. His gaze fixed on the building, quiet and seemingly empty.

  “If my guess is right, the Travers family is shielding Yaxley,” Alex muttered under his breath. “The real question is, how do I catch all of them at ohe Aurors from the Ministry won’t barge in. They’re either tied up by bureaucratic red tape or under pressure from the Travers’ influeno way they’d risk st the pd ing up empty-ha’d be a political mess. And this is Diagon Alley. If a fight breaks out, civilians could get hurt. No, I o figure out exactly what’s inside before making a move.”

  Alex tilted his head thoughtfully. “First, some reaissance.”

  He lifted the edge of his cloak, and a dark raven emerged, wings spread wide as it flew toward the house. “Blood magic hasn’t been a total waste of time,” Alex murmured, closing one eye. Through the raven’s shared vision, the house came into view. “At least I mao develop the shared-vision spell. Too bad the range is only 100 meters. Still, it’ll do for now.”