"An upgradeable wand? What kind of quest do I need to complete?" Allen's mind was racing. If the Great Mage Robe was anything to go by, the System's rewards were truly excellent. Becoming a 'wandmaster' was an enticing prospect, promising limitless power and customization.
[Quest Objective: Lift the curse on the lizard-like creature and earn its gratitude. Difficulty: Requires use of a staff (Temporarily provided by System). The System can temporarily provide map navigation via the Arcane Eye spell to help locate the lizard-like creature. Quest Deadline: 15 hours. Good luck!]
As soon as the System finished speaking, a cloud of soft, phosphorescent powder materialized from thin air, swirling with golden light before instantly forming a complex, holographic map floating inches in front of Allen's eyes. The others, thankfully, remained oblivious to the display. A small, raven-shaped icon represented Allen's current location. His gaze flickered upward on the map, where a faintly pulsating, rapidly moving, lizard-like figure was highlighted.
"Allen, stop staring into space and hurry up! We need to get you measured at Madam Malkin's for your robes. We've wasted enough time already with that eccentric Ollivander!" his mother, Morgan LeFay Harris, insisted, already half-dragging him out of the wand shop.
Mrs. Harris pulled Allen into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The windows were cheerfully plastered with signs advertising a "50% Off" discount on last season's attire, and promising that all robes were conveniently self-ironing and mending.
Madam Malkin, a short, plump witch dressed in vibrant purple with a decidedly friendly smile, greeted them instantly. "Good morning, it is truly lovely to see you again, my dear Morgan LeFay. How may I be of service?"
"Madam Malkin, I need two complete sets of Hogwarts robes for my youngest son, Allen. I insist on the quality materials, and they absolutely must be temperature-controlled," Morgan LeFay instructed, gesturing toward Allen, who appeared distracted but was actually tracking the moving lizard icon on his internal map.
"Morgan LeFay, is your youngest already old enough for school? Time genuinely flies, doesn't it?" Madam Malkin continued warmly. "Don't worry, I always select the finest uniforms for Hogwarts students. And temperature control? Well, I rarely see you spoiling a child quite like this, Allen must possess some truly promising magical ability, then?"
Allen found the standard, monotonous dark wizarding robes visually unappealing, far less interesting than the diverse, ornate, loose, and tailored robes he saw in adult wizarding magazines. Besides, he already owned the superior Great Wizard Robe, which offered passive invisibility, curse protection, and the ability to change its appearance at will.
Madam Malkin directed Allen onto a footstool, draped a plain black robe over him, and adjusted its length perfectly using a magical needle. After taking his basic measurements, she produced a partially constructed robe. With a quick flick of her wand, a needle and a pair of scissors threaded themselves through the air, autonomously altering the fabric's width and length with uncanny precision.
Allen watched the shopkeeper, whose previously lazy demeanor had vanished, replaced by an expression of deep concentration. He recalled a linguistic coincidence from a Muggle school reading assignment: the name Malkin, besides being a term for a cat, also carried a hint of dark folklore.
It seemed related to the "grimalkin," the familiar of the three witches in Shakespeare's Macbeth. Yet, the word also held connotations of "doormat" and "unkempt woman"—a deep irony for a witch operating a successful Diagon Alley business.
Meanwhile, Allen's mother, Morgan LeFay, was preoccupied in the women's section, happily selecting her own personal wizarding wardrobe—the true reason for her haste.
"Mum, I had planned to meet up with Harry for a bit of shopping, and now that I'm free, could I go see him?" Allen asked, capitalizing on his mother's distraction. The major downside of being so small is the lack of independence!
"Morgan LeFay, is your son's friend named Harry? He wouldn't happen to be Harry Potter, would he? Come to think of it, he is just the right age for enrollment!" Madam Malkin commented with a light smile, feigning doubt. Most young Hogwarts entrants, unless impoverished, preferred her bespoke robes, and she harbored a definite wish to meet the famous Boy-Who-Lived, given the substantial vault the Potters must have left him.
"Go on, then. It will take a little while for the robes to be fully charmed for thermoregulation, but be certain to return to the Leaky Cauldron before dusk. I won't have time to cook, so we'll have dinner there before heading home." Mrs. Harris skillfully ignored Madam Malkin's direct question, instead pulling out five Galleons and a handful of silver Sickles, which she quickly stuffed into Allen's bag.
Allen knew he couldn't actually seek out Harry right now; his quest deadline was pressing, and he had too many secrets to hide.
[A friendly reminder: To lift the curse on the lizard-man, please first travel to Knockturn Alley and locate the magic orb of the Goddess of Fortune, Fowles.]
"Goddess of Fortune, Fowles? Are there other divine figures besides Death in the Harry Potter lore?" Allen wondered, astonished. Time was crucial, however, so he shelved the theological research for Hogwarts. He rose from the footstool and, using his internal map, headed directly toward Knockturn Alley.
Before entering the infamous street, Allen ducked into a deserted, dead-end alley next to a large apothecary. He utilized his robe's functionality to pull up a hood and materialize a simple, dark mask to cover his lower face. He then activated the Illusion Charm. Even if the charm failed under intense scrutiny, the physical disguise would prevent immediate identification.
Knockturn Alley was no place for a student, let alone a first-year. It was a dark bazaar where all manner of sinister artifacts and dark wizards congregated. Dark Magic items—some terrifyingly dangerous—were sold openly. Even the raw materials for potions could be crafted from the unfortunate victims of reckless individuals.
Allen cautiously navigated the dark, narrow thoroughfare. He slipped past an old witch stirring a cauldron of sickeningly green, bubbling liquid and a large wizard whose face was crisscrossed with gruesome scars. Eventually, he reached a shop with dusty, opaque windows and a heavy, dark-red sign hanging over the eaves like a bloodstain. "Borgin and Burkes," read the inscription in large, twisted black letters.
This was the largest, most notorious shop in Knockturn Alley, specializing in artifacts of the Dark Arts. Its owner, Mr. Borgin, was known for selling and collecting strange and sinister items.
Allen recalled that decades ago, the mysterious Tom Riddle had worked here, gaining access to a vast, dark library of items with peculiar and dangerous properties.
It was during this tenure that Riddle discovered two priceless treasures in the possession of an old witch, Hepzibah Smith: Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's locket. Riddle had killed Smith, framed her house-elf, stolen the treasures, and then vanished forever.
Allen, now standing at the ominous doorway, dared not simply walk in. Even basic Muggle supermarkets possessed modern security sensors, yet these old dark magic shops might employ subtle, ancient magical alarms. He chose to wait quietly, trusting his intuition. His luck held. Moments later, a tall, thin wizard wearing a skull mask emerged on the street and walked straight toward the shop.
A few seconds after the masked wizard entered, Allen followed. As he pushed the door open, a mundane brass bell attached to the frame clicked, generating a surprisingly cheerful sound that violently clashed with the shop's atmosphere.
"Seriously? They use an old-fashioned physical bell? I expected something far more magically sophisticated than that," Allen thought, slightly disappointed by the lack of arcane security measures.
The masked wizard quickly surveyed the room, then walked directly to the counter and rang a small bell resting on the wood. A hunchbacked man, slicking back his greasy, dark hair with a hand, instantly appeared from the shadows behind the counter.
"Welcome. How might I assist you today?" Mr. Borgin's voice was as slick and oily as his hair.
"I have a cursed necklace here that is responsible for the lives of nineteen Muggles. Would you care to examine it?" the masked man inquired, his voice a clearly disguised, artificial rasp.
At the mention of Muggles, Mr. Borgin reached under the counter and produced a pair of rust-colored leather gloves, which he put on with fastidious care. He then took out two large silver tweezers, grasped both ends of a heavy necklace that the masked man produced, and laid it gently on a red velvet-lined tray for close inspection. After removing the gloves, he drew his wand, pointed it at the necklace, and murmured, "Monstra te!" Each opal on the necklace instantly glittered with a malevolent, silvery sheen.
Mr. Borgin appeared to conclude his assessment. "The necklace, cursed by Eris, does possess verifiable lethal properties, but I would need further testing to confirm its precise power. One hundred and twenty Galleons, shall we say?"
"Do not insult my intelligence, Borgin," the masked man retorted flatly. "I know the market value. Items cursed by Eris are exceedingly rare, and Muggle detection methods are completely useless against them. Two hundred Galleons." The masked man bluntly exposed Borgin's blatant attempt to undercut the price.
"But you must understand that the Ministry's current crackdown on these types of Dark artifacts is very tight right now…"
Realizing the negotiating pair were not discussing the object he needed, Allen ceased listening to their tedious haggling and scanned the shop. The room was large but poorly lit. Grotesque masks leered down from the walls; various human bones were displayed on counters; rusty, tooth-like implements hung from the ceiling. Allen checked every counter display, finding two crystal orbs, but neither was labeled as the Goddess of Fortune Fowles's magic orb, and the System remained silent.
Just then, Mr. Borgin and the masked man finalized their transaction at 170 Galleons. Upon receiving the money, the masked man waved away Mr. Borgin's attempts to sell him additional Dark items and swiftly exited the shop.
Mr. Borgin, visibly pleased with his acquisition, picked up the velvet tray and pushed open a secret door on the right side of the room. The space beyond looked dark and confined. Allen, seeing an opportunity, quickly moved to follow.