Davima was at a loss, feeling as though he had fallen into endless bliss.
If Harry had to choose one spell he was most skilled at aside from the Disarming Spell, it would undoubtedly be the Soul-snatching Curse.
In those times when dark wizards were as common as dogs and poachers roamed freely, not being able to resist the Soul-snatching Curse was practically delivering yourself to the dark wizards.
So Cassandra often practiced this spell with Harry, the two of them casting the Soul-snatching Curse on each other and using their will to forcefully break through, repeatedly training to build resistance to the spell.
The Soul-snatching Curse doesn't actually have any harmful effects on the caster; at its core, its unforgivable nature is simply due to its ability to control others to do certain things. Therefore, Harry didn't have any real aversion to this spell.
He had to admit, it felt amazing to make Cassandra dance the robot.
As the saying goes, practice makes perfect. After much practice, Harry could cast the Soul-snatching Curse even without a wand.
The greatest advantage of wandless magic is not having to fear the Flashback Spell.
"Hand over the magic wand." Harry reached out his hand.
Under the control of the Soul-snatching Curse, Davima obediently followed Harry's instructions, took out the magic wand from his pocket, and handed it to him with both hands.
Harry took the magic wand, raised an eyebrow, and looked at Davima.
"Blackthorn wood, dragon heartstring, twelve and a quarter inches." Davima answered respectfully.
Harry pocketed the wand and commanded again, "Take me to the nearest shop. I need to buy some things—things you can't find outside."
"Yes, sir." Davima bowed and led Harry out of the alley.
A newcomer walked boldly into Diagon Alley, and the dark wizards weren't going to let him off easily.
However, upon seeing the obsequious Davima leading the way, everyone abandoned the thought of taking advantage.
Even Davima, who was doing quite well in the area, had fallen. Of course, the dark wizards, who excelled at preserving their own skin, wouldn't want to push their luck.
The journey was peaceful, and Davima led Harry to a slightly respectable shop, pushed the door open, and walked in.
Davima approached the counter and rang the bell on the counter.
While the shopkeeper hadn't yet come out, Harry began to survey the store.
On the cushion inside a glass box next to the counter was a withered human hand, a stack of blood-stained cards, and a glass eyeball that was completely still. Grimacing masks glared down from the walls, the counter filled with various human bones, and rusted, jagged implements hung from the ceiling.
In front of the withered hand, there was also a Meditation Basin.
Judging by the items displayed in the shop, the merchandise was undeniably sinister.
Soon, a man emerged, hunched over at the counter, repeatedly smoothing back the greasy hair that fell across his face.
Harry believed that the shopkeeper would likely have much in common with Professor Snape.
"Davima? What brings you here?" Mr. Bokin asked, frowning and clearly not pleased with Davima's presence.
Davima laughed ingratiatingly, introducing Harry to Mr. Bokin, "This... this gentleman is interested in purchasing some rare and exclusive items you can't find elsewhere, so I've come to introduce him to you, Mr. Bokin."
Mr. Bokin finally noticed Harry, who was standing behind Davima, took note of the man's clean and meticulous attire, and a sense of caution rose within him.
"Hello, sir." Mr. Bokin tentatively asked, "May I know your name?"
Of course, Harry wasn't foolish enough to give his real name; he promptly used his friend's name.
"Sebastian."
"Sebastian... what?" Mr. Bokin repeated, curious about the last name.
Harry impatiently replied, "Sebastian... none of your damn business."
"Apologies, everyone has secrets, don't they?" Mr. Bokin salvaged his dignity, speaking with the same greasy cadence as his hair, "An honor, Mr. Sebastian, welcome. How can I assist you today?"
"I need some seeds of biting cabbage, and it would be even better if there are seeds of venomous tentacles." Harry said.
Mr. Bokin sighed slowly, "It's a pity, but the seeds of these magical plants are currently prohibited from sale."
He seemed unwilling to sell, right?
Harry said nothing, merely took out five Golden Galleons, placing them on the counter.
Seeing the five Golden Galleons, Mr. Bokin's eyes sparkled with the same greedy gleam as a fairie's.
"But let's talk reality: in the Bokin Bok Store, there's nothing people can't think of, only things the shop doesn't dare to sell."
Harry placed his hand over the five Golden Galleons, and Mr. Bokin, understanding, turned to retrieve two small cloth bags from a cabinet.
"These are the seeds of biting cabbage and venomous tentacles respectively, though they've been stored for a while and may require delicate care." Mr. Bokin said.
Harry took out his magic wand, touched it on the cloth bags.
Mr. Bokin's eyebrows jumped when Harry's wand touched the cloth bags but visibly relaxed after the touch.
After verifying they were indeed seeds of biting cabbage and venomous tentacles, Harry packed the two bags into his small pocket.
"Mr. Bock?" Harry asked.
"Please speak." Mr. Bokin took the five Golden Galleons, eagerly pocketing them.
"What relation is Herbert Bock to you?" Harry inquired.
"He was my grandfather." Mr. Bokin replied, "Why, did you know him?"
Harry smiled at him, "Of course, I did. I even personally watched his Sorting."
Mr. Bokin glanced at Harry's clearly youthful face beneath the hood, assuming he was making things up.
But, since he was running a business and had no intent of picking a fight with a customer, Mr. Bokin merely smiled at Harry, choosing not to engage further.
Harry knew Mr. Bokin didn't believe him but shrugged it off, having casually mentioned it without expecting belief.
Honestly, he wasn't lying—Old Bock was incredibly memorable since there weren't any from the Abbo family among his schoolmates, and Old Bock was the first name called by Vice Principal Weasley for Sorting.
Satisfied with his acquisitions, Harry left the Bokin Store.
He and Davima returned to the alley, where he lifted the Soul-snatching Curse on Davima.
Davima first looked around blankly before abruptly realizing, pointing shakily at Harry, "You... you... actually... used an unforgivable..."
"Relax, it was merely a harmless small spell." Harry said leisurely, "This is a little secret between us, and I hope you keep it well."
"You... you mean... you're letting me go?" Davima asked cautiously.
"Of course not, I'll choose a method that's safe for me."
Harry drew his magic wand, pointing it at Davima.
In Davima's terrified gaze, his form twisted continuously until he became a wiggling Flubber Worm.
This certainly wasn't the end; Harry followed up with another spell aimed at the worm.
"Oblivate Maxima (Enhanced Forgetfulness Spell)!"