Unaware of what was happening at her own shop, Lys was still wandering around Borgin and Burkes. She spent a little money to buy some information and then headed to the address on the note.
She briefly transfigured her long coat into a black cloak with a large hood and transformed the silver accessory on her necklace into a mask to conceal her face.
After confirming the address, she crushed the note and looked up.
Seeing the severely corroded nameplate by stains, Lys kicked the door. There was no choice; the curse marks on the door were crude and obvious. Knocking with her hands would be a fool's act.
The owner living here, according to the information, wasn't a dangerous person—just a poor soul frightened by the recent Death Eater massacre of Muggle-born wizards to establish dominance.
The transaction went smoothly. Three alchemical protective items and some Galleons, in exchange, the other party would bring the Muggle books she needed the day after tomorrow.
Madam Pomfrey's books were fascinating, especially "The Lancet." While most of the content about antibiotics and various bacteria was beyond her understanding, the anatomical sections on organs and bones were exactly to her taste.
The Muggle, Fat Sandy, whom she encountered in the forest, often mentioned things she didn't understand, like bringing a handgun for self-defense when entering the forest. But at the time, she refrained from continuing the conversation to avoid revealing her identity.
After all, the infamous witch hunts were so well-known, even with constant glorification in textbooks—claiming witches enjoyed being repeatedly captured for the joy of burning—couldn't cover up how many clumsy, careless wizards and young witches lost their lives to those knives and flames.
The massive, spike-filled torture device at Borgin and Burkes, steeped in curses paid for with lives, was nothing but the blood and tears of those wizards and wrongly accused Muggles.
Who would believe the words of those whose brains had been replaced by arrogance and deceit, and those filled with venomous cunning?
Only those whose minds had been completely cleansed by lies might believe them.
After confirming the books she needed, Lys returned to the shop street in Knockturn Alley. She even saw the semi-underground potion shop she ran with her mom during her first-year vacation, now turned into a candle shop.
Feeling nostalgic, she glanced at it several times, wondering if the silver patch she had left on the ground had returned to its original state.
As she turned to leave, a man coming out from across the street caught her attention. To avoid trouble, Lys observed through the reflection in the shop's glass.
A slick, thin voice, a silver mask, but most importantly, among the two wizards following him was one who had surrounded her and her mom in Diagon Alley last year.
It seemed she knew what those people were attempting to capture her mom for.
Potions, most likely the soul stabilizer he had asked about.
The tall figure occupied a lot of space on the narrow path of Knockturn Alley, and Lys stepped aside into the sunken steps of the candle shop to make way.
Even with only the back of the man visible, Lys refrained from staring directly. Powerful wizards are always sensitive; they can sense information in others' words and gazes.
She glanced at the shop from which he emerged—a potion ingredients shop?
Lys stepped inside and casually picked up some materials she was genuinely interested in, then asked, "Do you offer processing services?"
Under the shopkeeper's wary gaze, she tossed over the continuously howling, salt-pickled mandrake root, "Curse solution, three portions."
There was no need to directly probe what the silver mask was doing; two consecutive customers with the same purpose would make Knockturn Alley's wizards highly vigilant. So Lys used an ambiguous method to probe.
And the shopkeeper's reaction was as Lys expected. It seemed the person came here for a similar purpose as back then—potions...
Carrying the unexpectedly costly items, Lys finally returned to the reading room before dark. Before entering, she tidied her hair, tied back with a headband.
"I'm back," she announced, seeing her dad calmly feeding Gapo mice, and her mom flipping through a potion recipe book. Lys organized her belongings and then brought the kitchenware to the transfigured skylight to start cooking.
Ah, another peaceful day~
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