After saying goodbye to Lucius, Alan did not immediately leave Diagon Alley, but headed towards a small two-story building with a dark wooden sign that read: "Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary."
As soon as the young man entered the shop, his nose was immediately assaulted by the multitude of scents of a wide variety of herbs and potions. Cabinets lined the walls, displaying glass jars containing dried plants and roots, various powders, and a host of other ingredients.
At a small table stood an elderly man in a white coat with a slightly tired look.
"Hello, young man, is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, looking up at Alan's thoughtful face as he examined the vials.
"Yes," he said, taking a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to the pharmacist, while he continued to examine the ingredients with interest.
The older man put on his glasses and quickly scanned the list, and when he reached the very end, he frowned.
"The last two... Stranger's Slime and Kelpie's Blood. I can't sell you these two ingredients: the latter is out of stock, and the slime is only available with permission from the Ministry of Magic, for the reason that it is most often used for cursed potions or dark rituals."
"Okay, you can cross out the last one, collect the rest, and I will also need a cauldron and glass flasks."
"Sure, give me a few minutes and I'll get everything together..."
"I'm in no hurry, take your time."
"Of course…" the man nodded slightly, turned around, opened the door behind him, and went down the stairs.
Alan himself, closing his eyes, whispered a few words, and the next moment a wave of light magic passed through the building.
It's a shame... there are too many tracking charms, and I feel like someone is watching me, and that 'someone' has magical power on par with Slughorn, a peak-level Wizard. Not good. And while the wizards of this world are quite weak, fighting someone in this crowded place will only lead to unnecessary consequences. I'll have to find another way to get them... With a deep sigh, the wizard decided to abandon any thoughts of taking the last two ingredients by force and simply continued examining the vials displayed on the shelves...
Just ten minutes later the old salesman returned, followed by a hundred jars of various ingredients.
"That'll be three hundred and forty-nine Galleons, would you like to have it delivered?"
"No need," he said, taking out a small bag and pouring gold coins onto the table. He grabbed the jars and, with a wave of his hand, turned them all into needles, which, to the old man's surprised gaze, he immediately put away in a spatial artifact.
"I see," he said, putting away the Galleons, turning and striding toward the stairs leading to the second floor. "The simplest cauldron will cost eleven Galleons..."
"It will do."
"Okay, I'll bring it now..."
A few minutes later, the wizard left the shop, leaving its owner to look after him thoughtfully.
"Tuni, did you feel anything?" The next moment, a small, wrinkled creature with large green eyes and long ears appeared next to him, wearing rather strange clothing that resembled a rag.
"Tuni saw the young mage cast some kind of spell, Tuni got scared and prepared to defend her master, but the young mage did nothing, so Tuni also didn't 'go looking for trouble,' as her master said," the creature quickly babbled in a squeaky feminine voice, looking at the old man.
"I see, he most likely noticed you... well, good... these are troubled times anyway..." Sighing wearily, the elderly man pulled out his pipe and sat down on a chair. "What a dangerous young man, and his filigree control of magical power frightens even me and makes me envious..."
After this expensive purchase, the mage had less than a hundred Galleons left, but he still decided to stroll around Diagon Alley a little longer. And so, at this pace, he wandered into a rather strange place.
It was a small, dark street adjacent to Diagon Alley. It also housed some small shops, but the people were few and far between, and their appearance was not exactly encouraging: it was immediately clear that these were not the most "enlightened" wizards in the magical world.
But Alan didn't care much about this. He simply continued his walk, ignoring the gloomy faces of the mages watching him.
"Borgin and Burkes," he said, stopping in front of the shop and looking with interest at the enormous quantity of items displayed through the glass display case. "Looks like artifacts or maybe antiques...?" But the young man decided to go inside anyway, as, in addition to the simple trinkets, he saw several swords lying in a barrel in the corner of the room.
"Hello, young man, has something caught your eye in my humble shop?" came the slightly sarcastic voice of a man with rather unpleasant facial features that screamed, "Slippery type, one to be wary of."
Alan himself looked at the ten swords with interest, not paying any attention to the shop owner, who was not at all offended by this attitude, because he had seen much stranger customers.
Each of them is cursed... and most of the things in this shop are exactly the same, and yet the sale of such things is prohibited by law, and if you remember the names of the other shops, you can easily understand that I ended up in Knockturn Alley...
Knockturn Alley was the Muggle equivalent of a black market, selling Dark artifacts, ingredients for Dark magic, and many other illegal items.
"How much does this sword cost?" Alan asked, pulling out a slightly worn, simple-looking silver sword.
A look of disappointment flashed across the salesman's eyes when he saw the customer's choice.
"I would recommend you choose another: this sword is quite ordinary and was given to us by a squib without a family, meaning it has no antique value..."
"I want it."
With a dissatisfied hiss, he turned around and walked towards the counter.
"Thirty Galleons," the man said irritably, sitting back down at the table and taking the gold coins the Archmage had handed him. He took out a book and no longer paid attention to him.
Alan himself, silently turning the sword into a green needle, put it in his shirt pocket and, without turning around, left the shop.
It's still a pretty good catch, it'll definitely be good for a start... the young man thought, and before he could leave the first shop, he immediately went into the next one, which sold poisonous ingredients...
Only half an hour later, the Archmage left Knockturn Alley and returned to Diagon Alley, where legal goods were sold, and headed towards the bar with seven Galleons in his pocket, but with a satisfied smile, because he had managed to get the last two ingredients, albeit at a higher price than if he had bought them with the permission of the Ministry of Magic.
Now we can begin creating the foundation for the body and preparing for the potion. I hope Lucius will have time to find the ingredients before the start of the school year, and we also need to decide what to do with the Parseltongue…
While Alan was pondering his future plans, a powerful gust of wind hit him from a small alley, accompanied by a dull thud.
"Huh?" Looking down the alley, he saw a group of six cloaked wizards surrounding a young man, whom he recognized as Regulus Black, whom he had met earlier in front of the Leaky Cauldron. That's why you shouldn't go alone at such a turbulent time, the wizard nodded to himself, looking around at the six wizards. Especially if you're from some famous family... So what should I do? As he watched, three of the six fired three different spells directly at Black, who managed to erect a barrier and defend himself, but was unable to counterattack because the other three attacked at the same moment.
It was clear the six of them weren't in any hurry to deal with the aristocrat, but rather were enjoying themselves, hurling all sorts of insulting remarks like, "What, you bloody pureblood, where's your strength, or have you already shit yourself?" or "You acted like a king at school, and now what? Have you swallowed your tongue? Bloody runt! Blacks! Malfoys! You're all nothing but bastards! And when the bloody Dark Lord dies, you'll be next in line!"
Regulus himself tried not to respond to their insults, knowing they were only trying to irritate him. Yet, genuine rage still burned within him, for they had affected not only the Dark Lord, whom he greatly respected, but the entire Black family. For a man raised to value family honor above all else, it was like throwing a red rag in a bull's face.
"Hey, need some help?" Just as one of the attacks narrowly missed the cornered youth's leg, a transparent barrier appeared in front of him, reflecting the blue beam.
Hearing this voice, Black grimaced in displeasure, immediately recognizing his new acquaintance. As much as he wanted to tell this impudent mage to go, he gritted his teeth and nodded.
"Yes, if you help me, my family will thank you well."
"If that's the case, then I'll be happy to help, but don't forget your promise," Alan said, turning his gaze to the six and smiling. "No offense, but you're going to die today..."
The next moment, the temperature in the alley began to rise at an insane rate, and the Archmage's body was engulfed in flames. As soon as he raised his hand, fiery spears materialized behind him, rushing toward the six. They, of course, tried to use Protego to defend themselves, but the spears easily passed through their shields and pierced the mages' chests, whereupon the flames instantly engulfed their bodies. Before they could even utter a squeak, only ash remained in their place.
Black himself felt a chill at the sight of the death of six magicians.
What kind of spell was that...? A simple flame couldn't burn a human body that quickly! And while the young man was trying to figure out what had just happened, he saw a dark-haired woman appear ten meters away, holding a magic wand in her hand, pointed directly at Alan.
"Everte..."
"Stop, Bella!" Black shouted, trying to stop her, but it was too late.
"…statum!"