Two days later, Liam arrived at the Headmaster's Office early in the morning.
"Professor Dumbledore."
The old wizard looked up from a stack of papers.
"Good morning, Liam."
"I've come to request a day off."
Liam held up a formal letter.
"The Order of Merlin ceremony is at one o'clock this afternoon. I need to report to the Ministry."
Dumbledore smiled.
"Of course."
Then he asked curiously,
"Will you be taking the Hogwarts Express back into London?"
"No."
Liam shook his head.
"I only need permission to leave the grounds."
"I can Apparate from there."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
Even after seeing Liam's abilities repeatedly, it was still strange hearing a first-year student discuss Apparition as casually as breathing.
"Very well."
He nodded.
"Just remember to get far enough away from the castle."
"Hogwarts is covered in anti-Apparition enchantments."
Liam knew that already, but he listened politely.
"Students used to attempt Apparition on school grounds."
Dumbledore sighed.
"Unfortunately, many of them left behind pieces of themselves."
"Eventually the Headmasters decided enough was enough."
Liam chuckled.
"That seems reasonable."
"Try not to splinch yourself."
"I'll do my best."
After receiving permission, Liam left Hogwarts.
...
Several minutes later, he reached a secluded corner outside the grounds.
Snap.
A gray vortex appeared.
Space folded inward.
His figure vanished.
A moment later, another vortex opened in a narrow alley.
Knockturn Alley.
Liam stepped out calmly.
Immediately, a dark wizard exiting a nearby shop froze in place.
His face turned pale.
His eyes widened.
The man looked as though he had just encountered Death itself.
To many residents of Knockturn Alley, Liam Hale and the Grim Reaper weren't far apart.
The boy's reputation had only grown after Azkaban.
Especially after Voldemort.
The dark wizard stood motionless.
Liam barely glanced at him.
Then simply walked past.
The wizard released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and immediately fled in the opposite direction.
Liam continued toward his destination.
Borgin and Burkes.
The familiar bell rang as he entered.
"Ha!"
Borgin looked up from behind the counter.
A wide grin spread across his greasy face.
"If it isn't the hero of the wizarding world."
Liam rolled his eyes.
"Please don't start."
The old merchant laughed.
"What?"
"You caught the Dark Lord."
"You're receiving the Order of Merlin."
"People are calling you a prodigy."
"Seems worth mentioning."
"Dumbledore caught him."
Liam corrected.
"I merely pointed him in the right direction."
Borgin waved dismissively.
"Modesty doesn't suit you."
Then he leaned back comfortably.
"To be honest, seeing You-Know-Who embarrassed like this was satisfying."
Liam raised an eyebrow.
"You knew him?"
"Of course."
Borgin snorted.
"When he was a student."
"He worked here briefly."
That surprised Liam.
"He stole from me."
The old man looked offended even decades later.
"Twice."
"Then disappeared."
Liam laughed.
"Sounds like him."
"Exactly."
Borgin poured himself a cup of tea.
Then reached for a second cup.
"Want some?"
"You know my rules."
Liam shook his head.
He never consumed food or drink prepared by others.
Not in Knockturn Alley.
Not anywhere.
Borgin laughed again and put the cup away.
"Fair enough."
The merchant took a sip from his own tea.
"So."
Liam leaned against the counter.
"Anything interesting happen while I was at Hogwarts?"
Borgin's eyes immediately sparkled.
"There might be."
That tone meant information.
And information usually meant trouble.
Liam stepped closer.
"Go on."
The merchant lowered his voice.
"Someone attacked Gringotts recently."
Liam blinked.
"Successfully?"
"More successful than the goblins would like to admit."
Borgin smirked.
"The attackers breached several layers of security."
"That alone is impressive."
Liam wasn't particularly shocked.
His opinion of Gringotts security had never been especially high.
The goblins were decent.
But not invincible.
"However," Borgin continued, "they didn't get what they wanted."
Liam became interested.
"The vault was emptied beforehand."
"Oh."
Now that was unusual.
Borgin nodded.
"The target was moved."
"And shortly afterward…"
His grin widened.
"A certain customer came to me requesting something very specific."
Liam immediately understood.
"What?"
"A replica."
"A replica of what?"
Borgin leaned forward.
"The Philosopher's Stone."
For the first time during the conversation, Liam's expression changed.
The Philosopher's Stone.
The legendary creation of Nicolas Flamel.
A treasure that existed more in myths than reality.
Countless ancient alchemical traditions required it.
Entire branches of magical knowledge had vanished because nobody possessed one.
Most importantly—
It could produce the Elixir of Life.
Many elderly wizards would happily spend their entire fortunes for a single bottle.
Liam had searched for information about it before.
Every trail ended the same way.
Nowhere.
Nobody knew where it was.
But if someone attacked Gringotts...
And then immediately commissioned a fake...
The implications were obvious.
"Interesting."
Very interesting.
Borgin reached beneath the counter.
A moment later he produced a crimson crystal.
It glimmered faintly.
At first glance, it looked remarkably convincing.
"I made this based on the customer's description."
"He was supposed to collect it three days ago."
"But never returned."
Liam examined it carefully.
The craftsmanship was excellent.
"Dead?"
Borgin shrugged.
"Missing."
"Which usually means dead."
Fair enough.
The merchant slid the crystal across the counter.
"I made a second copy."
"Just in case."
A familiar smile appeared.
The smile that always preceded a business transaction.
"How much?"
"Five hundred Galleons."
Liam laughed.
"You prepared that specifically for me."
"Of course."
Borgin looked completely unashamed.
"You're my favorite customer."
"Because I overpay."
"Because you appreciate quality."
Liam snorted.
Then produced a dragonskin money pouch.
A claw-like stream of magic reached inside.
Gold coins floated out.
Five hundred.
Then another five hundred.
One thousand Galleons landed on the counter.
Borgin's smile widened instantly.
"What's the extra for?"
"The cursed book."
Liam picked up the fake Philosopher's Stone.
"And the information."
The merchant carefully gathered the coins.
His mood visibly improved.
This was precisely why he enjoyed doing business with Liam.
The boy paid generously.
Never haggled.
And most importantly—
He survived.
Many customers in Knockturn Alley eventually died.
Liam simply became richer.
"Pleasure doing business."
"Likewise."
Liam slipped the crystal into his pocket.
His thoughts were already elsewhere.
Someone had attacked Gringotts.
Someone wanted the Philosopher's Stone.
And judging from everything he knew...
There was a very good chance that someone was Voldemort.
If that was true, then the stone might become the first major clue to solving the mystery of Voldemort's immortality.
....
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