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Suppressing the urge to go back and hit Borgin & Burke with a Twilight Zonesee curse again, Ian quickened his pace and left. Lupin, who followed behind him, still wore a dazed and shell-shocked expression.
The two walked through Knockturn Alley.
They walked side by side through the narrow and winding alley, the cobbled street beneath their feet uneven and treacherous. On both sides stood run-down buildings and dimly lit shops, each exuding an inexplicable sense of eerie strangeness.
Ian, stifled and irritated, remained silent.
After several failed attempts to speak, Lupin finally couldn’t hold back his curiosity.
“Your lineage is really… this incredible?” Lupin had used up all the tact he possessed in his entire life. He even looked as if he was treading on eggshells.
And who could blame him?
The news was absolutely explosive.
If it weren’t for the fact that Lupin had repeatedly recalled the “gift” Ian had received from a Sacred House, he would never have believed such an absurd and outrageous piece of terrifying information.
However, as someone who had personally seen Ian acquire a large number of Diagon Alley shops from the Sacred House, Lupin quickly found himself connecting the dots; everything now seemed to make a twisted kind of sense.
If Ian, next to him, truly was Ian Grindelwald Dumbledore Ambrosius Prince, then it would be perfectly reasonable for Sacred Houses and even veteran dark wizards to take him seriously.
Faced with Lupin’s increasingly peculiar stare—
Ian shot him a sideways glare.
“Only an idiot would believe something so ridiculous. Senior, are you an idiot?” he retorted flatly, leaving Lupin with an impossible choice, one he couldn’t possibly agree to.
“But you said… people at school call you Ian Dumbledore…” Lupin’s skeptical voice trailed off mid-sentence, as Ian had already moved his hand to his waist.
He wasn’t really afraid that a first-year would draw a wand, but he was worried that a potions prodigy might pull out a strange concoction. In battle, alchemists and potioneers weren’t judged just by their magic spells.
“That’s just a title. Don’t you understand what a title is?” Ian was already regretting having fooled Lupin earlier. He hadn’t expected that even after going home, his classmates would still be spreading rumors about him.
“Alright, let’s drop the topic,” Lupin nodded in agreement, going along with Ian’s suggestion. Still, his sidelong glances at Ian didn’t go unnoticed.
There was no helping it. He really couldn’t clear his name. And as a textbook Gryffindor with an adventurous spirit, Lupin was subconsciously more inclined to believe in bizarre possibilities.
“I swear, those big mouths! Turns out what people yearn for more than a mute bride is a mute classmate,” Ian grumbled, venting his frustration on the street littered with trash. He kicked a small tin can, then gave a swift boot to a cat that was lurking with ill intent, likely an illegal Animagus or dark wizard in disguise.
As the lawless zone of Britain’s wizarding world, Knockturn Alley was largely beyond the reach of the Ministry of Magic. Not only did no one bother cleaning the streets, but it also harbored the most ruthless dark wizards in all of Britain.
These people might be like rats in the daylight outside, but in Knockturn Alley, they strutted with pride. Ian could already feel more than a dozen malicious stares closing in around them.
Some were hidden inside buildings, others were out on the streets. Among the robed wizards passing by, faces hidden, there were always a few whose gazes lingered longer than necessary on small wizards who had perhaps lost their way here.
Because—
Young wizards were treasure troves. Heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys, all highly sought-after ingredients in dark magic. Especially when thoroughly tortured first, they became essential components for many powerful dark magical materials.
According to incomplete statistics from the Ministry of Magic, several young wizards go missing from Diagon Alley every year, especially those raised with traditional home-schooling rather than Hogwarts’ protection.
If Ian weren’t accompanied by a mysterious adult wizard, the malice harbored by the dark wizards walking past would’ve been made plainly visible by now.
Of course—
That might just be what Ian was hoping for.
The dark wizards needed young wizards for experiments.
And who’s to say Ian didn’t want a few dark wizards to experiment on himself?
“We’d better get to Diagon Alley quickly. This place is far too foul and chaotic,” Lupin suggested cautiously, keeping an eye on their surroundings while pointing the way toward Diagon Alley.
That was yet another strange marvel of the wizarding world:
The largest dark wizard gathering place in the country stood just a single wall away from the most bustling street of magical commerce in all of Britain, a fact that was deeply ironic.
“It’s full of filth and chaos because no one bothers to manage it,” Ian replied, not heading in the direction Lupin had pointed. Instead, he examined the surroundings, dilapidated buildings all around, with a few shop signs barely hanging on.
One look, and you could tell this wasn’t a place for legitimate business. The last time Ian had seen stores like this was in his last life, those rundown but mysteriously pink-lit places that came alive precisely at night.
“Aurors conduct regular raids in Knockturn Alley, but after over a hundred years of such efforts, nothing’s changed!” Lupin said, his tone showing clear frustration.
He might have been much older than Ian and had far more life experience, but even years of wandering hadn’t taught him that the world was not just black or white.
That wasn’t a flaw.
It was the unique “naivety” shared by Gryffindor students, or perhaps more accurately, their hope for the world. They weren’t willing to accept that the true color of reality was a delicate shade of gray.
“Aurors are people, and the Ministry of Magic is a collection of people. Who can guarantee they’ll never need to make use of Knockturn Alley?” Ian didn’t believe the Ministry truly lacked the power to wipe out Knockturn Alley.
Sometimes—
It wasn’t that the Ministry couldn’t manage Knockturn Alley. It was that the wizarding world as a whole had tacitly accepted its existence, and so Knockturn Alley had rooted itself here for all these years.
After all, every household might have the need for something a little illegal.
Even the Weasley family wasn’t completely exempt. Where there’s light, there must be darkness, that truth holds in both the Muggle world and the wizarding one.
Although the Ministry openly prohibits the trade of dark magic and related items, for many wizards, those things were at times urgently necessary.
Knockturn Alley was the clearest manifestation of “existence as justification.”
“Heh.”
Lupin didn’t really agree with Ian’s view, but he wasn’t in much of a position to argue. As a broke werewolf, the only place he could afford Wolfsbane Potion was in Knockturn Alley. With enough gold galleons, you could buy almost anything here. Whether what you bought was authentic or not? That depended entirely on luck and your own judgment.
“You’re going deeper into Knockturn Alley? Looking for more dark magic items?” Lupin furrowed his brow as he saw Ian heading further into the alley. Still, he didn’t mention reporting it to Albus Dumbledore, he was already recalling how none of his past reports had ever accomplished much.
And thinking back to what had just happened…
He felt like he was beginning to understand everything.
“I’m trying to see if there are any other werewolves hiding around here,” Ian said. He had no interest in shoddy dark magic items. If he really wanted any dark magic artifacts, he could easily make them himself.
“What do you plan to do with them?”
Lupin followed close behind Ian, his face turning serious. Even if most werewolves weren’t great people, he didn’t want to see those already unfortunate souls suffer something even worse.
“I’m looking for ones willing to help me and who have the foresight to see the bigger picture. All of it is for my Ian-edition Wolfsbane Potion,” Ian replied honestly.
“I’m not going to help you catch werewolves,” Lupin warned him.
“Heh.”
This time, it was Ian who gave a soft chuckle.
“Gold galleons can buy everything.”
He stated the belief he’d always lived by.
“You really are naive. Gold galleons will only get little guys like you killed faster. Don’t you know that around here, rich sheep often vanish along with their wallets?”
“Sure, you might have outstanding talent, and your bloodline may be noble, but potential doesn’t guarantee achievement. If we run into real trouble, I might not even be able to protect myself,” Lupin added seriously, feeling that this young wizard still didn’t fully understand the harshness of the world.
To be honest…
He really did want to forcibly drag the reckless little wizard out of Knockturn Alley, but Ian was slipperier than a loach. Every time Lupin tried to grab him, the kid somehow predicted his move and slipped away just in time.
“We agreed not to bring up that rumor again,” Ian rolled his eyes.
He led a hyper-vigilant Lupin, who was constantly looking around, into one of the most deserted corners of Knockturn Alley. Ian figured if there were any werewolves hiding here, they’d definitely be in the most remote areas.
Even most dark wizards avoided and feared that particular group.
“How do you know werewolves are here? Did you plan all of this in advance?” Lupin suddenly glanced at a dilapidated alley up ahead.
The buildings there were in ruins, with broken structures everywhere and no one bothering to fix them.
Even the ground was overrun with weeds.
“So, I was right?” Ian picked up on Lupin’s reaction, it was clear that Lupin did know where the werewolf gathering spots were in Knockturn Alley.
He had just chosen not to tell Ian earlier.
“Not every werewolf is as easy to get along with as I am. Most have the worst kind of personalities you can imagine,” Lupin said again, trying to stop Ian from going any farther.
But—
He found his hand had only grasped a wisp of illusion that faded away on the breeze.
“When did he—!?”
Lupin looked down at his empty hand in shock.
“That’s called Mirror Flower, Water Moon, just a little magical trick. Casting a silent spell while holding your wand isn’t exactly difficult… I’d say my skill level is fairly decent,”
Ian’s voice came from right behind Lupin.
Startled, Lupin turned around.
And saw—
Ian had somehow acquired an ice cream cone and was chomping on it with enthusiasm, still managing to keep a spoonful in his mouth while talking.
“You… you’re eating that all by yourself?” Lupin had almost shouted Nightmare in alarm, but at the last second, his words were replaced by a slightly bitter complaint.
It was the middle of summer.
The sun blazed down from above.
He had been dying for some water or ice for a while now.
“Oh, this ice cream? Some weird old man gave it to me earlier. You could go find your own weird old man too. But remember: he’ll only give you a clean, poison-free ice cream after you’ve shoved his head up his own backside. Otherwise, all you’ll get is a hypnotic drug disguised as ice cream.”
Ian gave this advice in a perfectly serious tone, like some kind of rule-bound urban legend.
Lupin’s pupils contracted at the sound of it.
“Is that ice cream on your robes?” Lupin noticed that the hem of Ian’s robes was stained and suspected it was blood from some dark wizard that the kid had accidentally picked up.
“Nope. That’s the tear stains from when the weird old man repented.” Ian blinked innocently.
His casual tone made it impossible for Lupin to tell whether he was joking. Honestly, Lupin suspected it was blood and brain matter, but he couldn’t get close enough to Ian to confirm it.
“Did you kill someone?” Lupin now had to re-evaluate this kid Dumbledore had entrusted to him. In terms of both power and personality, he realized his understanding of Ian might have been drastically off.
“He’s still alive,” Ian replied with a smile.
But his slightly emotionless tone sent a chill down Lupin’s spine.
And just as Lupin’s scalp started to prickle—
“Whoosh~”
A sudden charm shot out from a hidden corner, aimed directly at Lupin, clearly perceived as the bigger threat.
As a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Lupin’s reflexes were sharp.
He instantly pulled off a classic evasive move: the donkey roll.
Lupin flung himself forward and rolled to the ground, looking a bit ridiculous, but effectively dodging the sudden attack from the shadows.
“Diffindo!”
Lupin’s counterattack was just as swift. He aimed at the building concealing the assailant and cast the severing spell, causing the already fragile structure to collapse into rubble.
Stones buried the entire space.
“I told you we shouldn’t have come here! Get your wand out, some werewolves have already lost their minds!” Lupin yelled toward Ian while keeping his eyes locked on the pile of debris, unsure if the enemy wizard had been buried or not.
But then,
Lupin didn’t get a response from behind him.
“Doesn’t look crazy to me.”
Just as Lupin was beginning to think Ian had been attacked, he whipped his head around, only to freeze in place. Ian had casually walked out from beside the building ruins.
“And he’s incredibly alert. Nearly spotted me.” At some unknown point, Ian had changed outfits again. He was now holding onto an unmoving foot with one hand.
He was dragging along a man knocked out cold by Stupefy, or rather, a werewolf completely covered in fur.
“Which one of you is the real one!?” Lupin’s eyes widened in disbelief as he looked back, sure enough, the “Ian” who’d just been talking to him had vanished into a wisp of blue smoke.
“If I told you, would this magic still be called Mirror Flower, Water Moon? Don’t you know the meaning of being cautious? We are in Knockturn Alley, you know.” Ian righteously refused to answer Lupin’s question.
“This guy’s got something wrong with him.”
Ian didn’t wait for Lupin to respond. He directly tossed the unconscious werewolf forward. Seeing the transformed creature, Lupin frowned deeply.
“Indeed… Tonight is the full moon… Did you agitate his mind somehow?” Lupin crouched down to check the werewolf’s condition, his expression turning grave.
“Does reading his memories count?” Ian tilted his head, looking a little unsure.
“You can do Legilimency!?” Lupin couldn’t even remember how many times he’d been shocked today.
“They call me a natural-born Legilimens.” Ian didn’t mean to show off, he just felt that since the opportunity had fallen into his lap, the one responsible for making him show off… was Lupin himself.
“…”
Lupin was speechless.
He opened his mouth.
But said nothing.
Still, his thoughts were boiling over.
“No wonder they call him… the strongest mixed-blood.”
Thousands of words.
All condensed into one sigh.
“Smack~”
Still a bit dazed, Lupin suddenly felt a slap across his face, as if the very air had jumped up and hit him.
“That one was fake, too?”
It didn’t really hurt. But it definitely made him snap.
“True and false, false and true… We are in Knockturn Alley.”
Ian, the one still in front of him, replied with deep solemnity.
“Aren’t you being a bit too cautious…?” Lupin’s eye twitched.
He had absolutely no idea where to look anymore.
“Maybe.”
The Ian across from him turned into a piece of wood.
And then yet another Ian walked out from a nearby room, Lupin would bet his little ponytail this one wasn’t the real one either.
Worse still—
Lupin started to realize a painful truth: Every time he figured out an Ian was fake, that one would vanish… only for another “Ian” to pop up.
“You’re even guarding against me?” Lupin’s tone held a bit of disbelief.
But mostly?
It was wounded bitterness.
“How could I, senior? You’re just overthinking things…” The Ian who had just emerged rolled his eyes, then crouched down and pulled out a huge syringe to begin drawing blood from the werewolf.
Lupin didn’t stop him.
After all, this werewolf’s instincts had clearly been aimed at killing him earlier.
“Unless you completely enraged him, he shouldn’t be able to transform outside the full moon. I think they may have found a way to trigger transformation at will.”
Lupin spoke firmly, his frown deepening.
No one understood werewolves better than he did.
“They have found a way to do voluntary transformations…” Ian’s eyes glinted faintly as he replied, and his words made Lupin’s expression grow even more serious.
“A potion, maybe?” Lupin ventured a guess.
Ian’s nod confirmed Lupin’s guess.
“There’s actually someone capable of brewing this kind of potion? Don’t tell me it’s your uncle secretly conducting some dark experiment here in Knockturn Alley?”
A worried look appeared on Lupin’s face.
He made no effort to hide his disdain for Snape.
“I wish it were my dear uncle.” Ian let out a heavy sigh.
He put away the syringe.
Then raised his head to look at Lupin.
“I’ll be discussing this matter with Headmaster Dumbledore.” Ian’s words left Lupin visibly shocked.
“You know who it is?” Lupin stared intently at Ian.
“If you read his memories, you’ll hear a name…” Ian didn’t want to say too much, but it was clear Lupin was the type who wouldn’t stop until he got an answer.
“I can use Legilimency too.” As he spoke, he immediately cast the magic, Lupin might not be a master of Legilimency, but his skill still exceeded that of most Hogwarts graduates.
There are no weaklings in the Order of the Phoenix.
Reading the mind of a werewolf knocked out cold by Stupefy wasn’t exactly hard for Lupin.
And sure enough—
A few moments later—
Lupin’s eyes flew open in shock and horror.
“That’s impossible!”
Clearly, he had seen something in the werewolf’s memory that defied belief.
(End of this chapter)
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