Sean had been to Diagon Alley many times.
But never like this—just wandering around at leisure.
On this long cobbled street, lined with the most tempting wizarding shops in the world, Sean felt almost sun-drenched.
His thoughts wandered over everything that had happened since Christmas: the destroyed diadem, the ghost laid to rest, the burned ring, and the fake locket he had acquired.
In the end, his mind settled on the Resurrection Stone.
A terrible curse had been laid on that Deathly Hallow, and it left almost no room for loopholes.
A magical creature had to wear it for the curse to activate; otherwise, the Resurrection Stone couldn't be used at all.
As for why it required a magical creature, Sean guessed that anything without magic simply wouldn't be worth noticing in Voldemort's eyes.
The curse couldn't be broken—only endured, just like the potion in the cave.
Voldemort had gone farther in curses than any wizard in the modern magical world. At least, Sean could see no hope of undoing it.
So what could he do to use the Resurrection Stone?
The day stretched long and bright under the sun. Wizards drifted in and out of shops, or dined beneath colorful parasols outside cafés.
Beside Marcus, Sean overheard customers showing each other what they'd bought.
"Old fellow, this is a Moonscope—no more fussing with moon charts, eh?"
Or arguing over which magical school was better:
"Personally, Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the world. I'd never send my child anywhere else."
The moment Marcus spotted the ice cream shop, he was already itching to go in.
"Ice cream, of course. Wonderful."
Without waiting for an argument, he dragged Sean out into the bright sunshine in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
Every half hour, he was more than happy to add another serving to the table.
"Oh, time flies, my dear boy. You'll be in third year soon…"
Marcus said, his beard trembling with the ice cream stuck to it.
Not long after, they plunged straight into Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Marcus adored moments like this. The shop was packed, shoulder to shoulder with people. They squeezed their way in, past all the excited witches and wizards, until they reached a newly set-up display platform.
With one grand sweep of his hand, Marcus bought a Nimbus 2001.
"I haven't played Quidditch properly in ages," Sean tried to protest.
"Splendid. Another bottle of polish as well, sir," Marcus said generously.
The shopkeeper beamed and eagerly shared a piece of special news with them:
"Yes, at ten o'clock. The most mysterious shop in Diagon Alley is opening to the public. The legendary Mr. Hermes is releasing a new magical creation."
The elderly wizard said it with obvious excitement.
"Well, that's really—"
Before Marcus could finish, the entire Alley began to change.
Bright, flashy posters were going up everywhere. Even the walls of the Quidditch shop were plastered with them.
"That mysterious shop has brought in a lot of traffic for Diagon Alley," the owner said cheerfully, watching a young wizard hang up another poster.
All across the sky above Diagon Alley floated a particular creature: Puffskeins.
Round little bodies covered in creamy yellow fur, drifting gently in the bright sunlight.
Sean knew them well. They were mild-tempered magical creatures—perfectly content to be hugged, tossed around, and fussed over. Wizards loved them as pets.
Naturally, they weren't cheap.
Now they had been enchanted for this event. They drifted through the sunny air with little advertisements stuck to their long pink tongues. Touch one, and it would drop a flyer neatly into your hand.
The whole of Diagon Alley erupted. Wizards and witches excitedly accepted the promotional sheets from the Puffskeins.
Though really, all they had to do was look up. The posters hanging everywhere said the same things as the handouts:
[Mr. Hermes is about to bring change to the wizarding world—are you still relying on fireplaces and owls?]
[Magic Hand Mirrors: breaking the barrier of distance!]
[When other children can speak face-to-face with their families at school, is your child still stuck waiting for owl post?]
The slogans flooded their vision. A strange sense of urgency took hold. Everyone wanted to know what this "Magic Hand Mirror" actually was.
It had already been plastered across the newspapers for days.
And before anyone even had to go looking, neatly dressed wizards were already offering to Apparate them there.
"Fairytale Shop is open for a limited time at Number Seventy-Seven, Diagon Alley. If you're in a hurry, please take my hand."
"No crowding, no need to queue. But please remember—each wizard may only remain in Fairytale Shop for half an hour a day.
Whether you buy something or not, please leave afterward. We hope you'll understand."
"Madam, if you'd be so kind as to take my hand…"
Marcus was completely baffled by all of it, but that line about children waiting for owl replies clearly struck him.
Not just children—he was the one always stuck waiting for owls.
"What's a Magic Hand Mirror?" he asked one of the attendants.
"You may see it for yourself in Fairytale Shop," the wizard replied politely, holding out a hand.
"I'm not so old I need your Apparition," Marcus said, refusing, then turned to Sean with hesitant eagerness.
"Shall we go have a look?"
A few minutes later, they reached Fairytale Shop. It was already crammed with wizards.
Good thing it had been expanded over and over with Extension Charms—otherwise there was no way it could have fit over a hundred people inside.
"Give me one more! Sir—just one more!"
one wizard was pleading.
"Fairytale Shop's rule has always been one per person, sir. Please don't make things difficult for us," the attendant replied firmly.
"Are there any Pegasus versions left? Or dragon ones?"
"I need a three-way mirror, slim version, Galleons aren't a problem—"
"The camera function is real? I don't have to lug around a giant camera anymore?"
The noise all blended together into a buzzing haze.
Then the attendant next to Marcus said casually,
"The first batch is only three hundred units. Mr. Hermes didn't really intend to sell them at all—he just happened to change the whole magical world again without even meaning to…"
The neatly dressed wizard said it with obvious pride, clearly pleased with his work.
And not just because of Marle's generous wages.
By then Marcus was already testing one of the Magic Hand Mirrors for himself. Once he fully understood what it could do, his breathing turned fast and uneven.
"Sir—quickly—get me one—"
~~~
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— Currently You can Read 120 Chapters Ahead of Others!