Leonardo woke up with the same feeling he always did after a night of near-death, near-divine bloodlust, and near-coma healing.
Like he'd been microwaved and dumped in a dryer full of angry ferrets.
The sun cut through the cracked blinds of Room Seven. He sat up slowly, head pounding, body still sore but alive. Unfortunately.
"Alright, let's see what this wonderland's got," he muttered, pulling on his jacket and stuffing his pockets with as many questionable items as he could carry—including a scalpel he found under the mattress (don't ask).
He strolled downstairs, nodded to the barkeep, and stepped outside.
Diagon Alley
The bricks shifted with a whisper of magic and the alley came alive. Shimmering shop signs. Witches haggling. Owls hooting. A goblin vomiting in a trash bin (possibly unrelated).
Leonardo's eyes sparkled—not with wonder, but opportunity.
"Capitalism… with wands," he muttered. "Oh, I am so gonna get expelled from every moral system ever."
He walked past Ollivanders—already armed with someone else's broken wand—and then paused near a potion shop.
Inside: vials of glowing liquid, shrooms that giggled, powders that sparkled, and jars labeled "Not Legal in Romania."
Leonardo strolled in casually.
"Hey. You sell anything that gets you high enough to forget torture, war trauma, and time dilation?"
The potioneer blinked. "We have Dreamless Sleep, Draught of Peace—"
"Yeah, that's cute," he cut her off, "I'm talking coke. Meth. Acid. But, you know... with magic flair."
The woman was silent.
Leonardo leaned in.
"Can I cook something here?"
The answer should've been no. The potioneer should've called an Auror. Instead, she was too weirded out and too busy pocketing her coin purse.
Leonardo grinned. "That's what I thought."
Two Hours Later – An Abandoned Flat Above a Broomstick Shop
Smoke drifted from an open window.
Cauldrons bubbled. Magic reagents shimmered on stolen potion plates. A broken wand sparked on a table beside a half-ground snuff of something white and glowing.
Leonardo sniffed the air. "Sweet baby Merlin."
In the center of the cauldron: a cocaine base fused with powdered Billywig wings, crushed Moonstone, and a splash of Elixir of Euphoria.
He dipped his pinky in, tasted it.
His pupils dilated. He immediately stood up and screamed out the window:
"I HAVE SEEN GOD AND HE OWES ME MONEY!"
He doubled over laughing, almost crying.
"This… This is it. Magic coke. I'm gonna call it Stardust. No. Wait. Wand Dust. Nah—Phoenix Snow. Oh, that's gold."
Later That Day – In A Shady Alley
Leonardo approached a bunch of scruffy-looking magical teens in mismatched robes. They were already sharing a pipe made from a hollowed-out wand.
"You guys ever try something that makes your magic feel like it's trying to seduce you while upper cutting a Dementor?" he asked.
They stared.
He held out a tiny bag of shimmering powder.
"First sample's free."
They took it. Snorted it.
Two seconds later one of them levitated ten feet into the air while laughing like a banshee. Another cast Lumos and accidentally turned his hair into fireworks.
The last kid just whispered, "I can taste the fourth dimension."
Leonardo grinned.
"Gentlemen… I think we've found our customer base."
By Nightfall
Leonardo had turned the abandoned flat into a mini-lab. Illegally enchanted furniture. Magical safes full of Phoenix Snow. Owls trained to deliver tiny glass vials. A floating blackboard listing potential customers by blood status and addiction risk.
He even wrote slogans.
"Phoenix Snow – Your Mind on Magic"
"Forget Voldemort, This'll Kill You Better"
"Approved by Merlin. Probably."
He sat in the middle of it all—shirtless, dirty, laughing.
"Homo Magi, huh?""Heir to Pendragon and Peverell?""Nah. I'm Leonardo—the f***ing Magic Cartel Kingpin."