Chapter 91: A Gathering of Familiar Faces
In early August, Knockturn Alley remained forever shrouded in a layer of grey mist.
It was the dark underbelly of the wizarding world, separated from the bustling Diagon Alley by only a single wall. The air was thick with the smell of rotting medicinal ingredients, mouldering books, and the unsettling trace of Dark Arts magic.
For an ordinary Hogwarts student, wandering into this place by mistake would be an absolute nightmare.
But for Tamara Riddle, it felt almost like returning to her own back garden.
Tamara wore a deep grey hooded cloak, the hood pulled low enough to reveal only her pale chin. She moved skilfully past vendors with suspicious eyes, avoiding the sludge on the ground and the unidentifiable animal entrails scattered near the stalls, and headed straight into the depths of the alley.
The cold, oppressive, malicious atmosphere gave her a long lost sense of comfort.
Even the ugly old hag nearby, loudly peddling shrivelled human hands, seemed much more pleasant than those falsely smiling neighbours in the Muggle community.
"Borgin and Burkes..."
Tamara spotted the black sign not far away.
She had come today for several rare Dark Arts materials.
Although the system's mission rewards did increase her attributes, for the great Dark Lord, power obtained only through obedience and completing tasks carried a sickening sense of restraint.
She would never allow herself to become entirely dependent on something of unknown origin.
Only the Dark Arts.
That violent and captivating forbidden power, dancing on the edge of life and death, was the true desire buried deep in her soul.
It was also the only thing that made her feel alive.
Only what one held in one's own hands truly belonged to them.
Just as she was about to step forward, the bell above the shop door rang.
Two figures walked out.
Tamara stopped mid step and nimbly slipped into the nearby shadows.
The one in front was a tall wizard with long platinum hair and a cold, pale face. He wore expensive black velvet robes and carried a snake headed cane, his expression filled with the arrogance and disdain characteristic of the House of Malfoy.
Lucius Malfoy.
Behind him followed the same platinum haired young master, looking thoroughly impatient.
Draco Malfoy.
"Do not touch anything, Draco," Lucius warned in a low voice. "Every item here could carry a fatal curse. I have no wish to waste time at St Mungo's having you decontaminated."
"I know, Father."
Draco drew out the words, clearly not paying much attention.
His gaze darted around, both fearful and curious about this place full of contraband.
Tamara held her breath, intending to leave.
She had no desire to run into the Malfoy father and son right now.
If Lucius saw her in Knockturn Alley at this time, that old fox would certainly become suspicious.
And if Draco clung to her, her shopping plans for the day would be completely ruined.
However, as he passed the shadow where Tamara was hiding, Draco seemed to sense something and suddenly turned his head.
His gaze lingered on that patch of darkness for a moment.
Although he only saw a silhouette, a flicker of doubt crossed his grey blue eyes.
"That figure..."
Draco stopped. It was a back he had seen countless times at Hogwarts.
"Tamara?"
He called out tentatively, his voice very soft.
Lucius pushed open the shop door.
The hunchbacked Mr Borgin immediately came forward and obsequiously invited Lucius into the private room at the back of the shop, where heavy velvet curtains were drawn.
Clearly, the business they were about to discuss was highly private and not suitable for anyone else to see, including Draco.
As the curtain closed, Draco immediately realised that his father would not come out for at least ten minutes.
This gave him a perfect chance.
He watched his father disappear into the dim shop, then looked toward the familiar back vanishing around the corner of the alley.
Draco hesitated for a moment, but the desire to see his idol during the holidays overcame his fear of Knockturn Alley.
Taking advantage of his father's distraction, he quietly slipped away and ran toward the shadows.
"Damn brat."
Tamara cursed inwardly.
She turned and left, quickly ducking into an even narrower and filthier side alley.
If she got stuck with this child, she might as well march straight to Azkaban.
Draco chased after her.
But he had clearly overestimated his sense of direction and underestimated the dangers of Knockturn Alley.
After only two turns, the familiar figure was gone.
In its place was a mountain of rubbish at the end of a dead end, and several ragged, uninvited guests slowly closing in from the shadows.
"Look what we have here."
A Dark wizard missing two front teeth and covered in pustules approached with a cackle, fiddling with a wand that looked like a withered twig.
"A lost little peacock. Look at the fabric of those robes. Quite nice."
"And he is a Malfoy too."
Another witch with a hooked nose stared greedily at the silver brooch on Draco's chest.
"I hear the young Master Malfoy is worth quite a bit. If we chop him up and sell him to those black market dealers..."
Draco's face went deathly pale.
He gripped his wand tightly. Though it was the finest hawthorn wand, his hand shook so badly he could not even raise it properly in front of these desperate outlaws who had truly killed before.
"Get... get back!"
He tried to maintain the dignity of the House of Malfoy, but his voice carried a distinct sob.
"My father is nearby! If you do not get back, he will send you all to Azkaban!"
"Hahaha! By the time your father finds you, you will probably only have one finger left!"
The toothless wizard laughed wildly and suddenly flicked his wand.
From atop a pile of junk, Tamara looked down at the scene from her high vantage point. Her pitch black eyes showed no emotion, carrying only a faint, cold indifference, as if she were watching a play.
Save him?
Do not be ridiculous.
To the great Dark Lord, the weak had no right to survive.
If the heir to the House of Malfoy could not even handle rubbish like this, then dying in a gutter in Knockturn Alley would be a fitting end. It would help Slytherin purify its bloodline.
She had even turned around, preparing to leave.
However, Tamara's departing steps paused.
Her gaze fell once more on the trembling Draco, and her expression became thoughtful.
Although Lucius was a slippery old man of questionable competence, he was rich.
Very rich.
Saving his only son in this situation would be equivalent to seizing the House of Malfoy by the throat.
Compared with a dead Draco, a living puppet who would be eternally grateful to her was clearly more valuable.
"Consider yourself lucky."
Tamara coldly finished her calculation, and the holly wand slid instantly into her palm.
"Petrificus Totalus."
A cold voice rang out from above without warning.
A grey white beam of light silently cut through the murky air and struck the toothless wizard in the back.
Thud!
The wizard did not even have time to finish his incantation before he toppled backward, stiff as a board, landing in the sewage covered ground with a dull sound.
The remaining two Dark wizards looked up in terror.
There, on one side of the alley, atop a precarious mountain of discarded cauldrons and rotten wooden crates, stood a small figure.
A grey cloak whipped in the wind. The hood had fallen back, revealing an exquisitely pale face and eyes as black as an abyss.
Tamara looked down at the scum below, the holly wand that had originally belonged to the saviour spinning nimbly between her fingers.
"Since you know he is a Malfoy," she said calmly.
Her voice was not loud, yet it revealed a composure far beyond her years.
"How stupid must you be to dare make a move here?"
The two Dark wizards exchanged glances. Their fear twisted into viciousness.
The large man suddenly raised his thick, clumsy wand. Relying on his deep magical reserves, he began condensing a malicious purple light at the tip.
Tamara did not even move her feet.
A flicker of impatience crossed her eyes.
With a slight turn of her wrist, the holly wand traced an astonishingly sharp arc through the air.
"Flipendo."
It was merely a basic Knockback Jinx taught in the second year.
But in Tamara's hands, it exploded with completely unreasonable force.
It was as if an invisible air cannon had detonated in the alley.
The brute, who weighed well over two hundred pounds, was thrown backward as if he had been struck by the Knight Bus.
He screamed as he flew through the air in a wretched arc, then crashed heavily into a rubbish pile more than ten metres away, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The remaining witch with the hooked nose trembled all over.
She looked at her fallen companion, then at the motionless Tamara standing above. The hand gripping her wand shook uncontrollably.
"Incendio."
Tamara gave her no time to think.
Orange red flame erupted from the tip of her wand.
But the fire did not scatter. Instead, like a flexible viper, it let out a sharp whistle as it lashed through the air.
The witch had only just begun to raise her wand to cast a Shield Charm.
The whip of flame struck accurately and mercilessly across her wrist.
"Aah!"
With the smell of burning flesh and a shrill scream, the witch's wrist was instantly scorched raw.
The intense pain made it impossible for her to keep hold of her wand, and the twiglike object dropped onto the filthy ground.
She clutched her wrist in terror and backed away, trying to use her other hand to beat out the sparks clinging to the wound. But the fire seemed to cling like a curse, agonisingly painful.
Faced with such absolute crushing skill, she did not even have the chance to cast a counterspell.
"Get out."
Tamara uttered only a single word.
The witch did not dare look at her again. She let out a high pitched shriek, abandoned her companion, and scrambled away while clutching her blackened wrist, disappearing at the end of the alley.
Silence returned to the small alley.
Only the petrified wizard, the unconscious brute, and Draco, leaning against the wall in complete shock, remained.
The wind blew through the alley, ruffling Tamara's cloak.
She leaped lightly down from the towering pile of junk, her movements as graceful as a cat's. Her black leather shoes landed without a sound.
From Draco's perspective, as the girl walked slowly toward him, it was as though invisible black wings were unfolding behind her.
Powerful.
Mysterious.
Unrivalled.
"Are you an idiot?"
Tamara walked up to him, looked at the red eyed young master, and frowned in disdain.
"Running around in Knockturn Alley? What is inside your head? Flobberworm mucus?"
Draco stared at her blankly.
His heart pounded so hard against his ribs that it felt as though it might leap out.
The scene just now, that casual Knockback Jinx and that precise whip of fire, had been too cool.
Compared with his father's spellcasting, which always seemed full of ceremony and pretence, this clean, decisive, violent beauty instantly pierced the defences of a Slytherin boy who had worshipped strength since childhood.
Nearly blind adoration mingled with the relief of surviving disaster, flushing his face bright red.
"Tamara..."
He spoke haltingly, all his usual arrogance gone. His eyes shone like lamps.
"You... you just..."
[Ding! Detected that target character Draco Malfoy's favourability has broken through the threshold!]
[Current status: Blind Adoration.]
[Reward: Charisma +1.]
Tamara's lip twitched.
"Shut up."
She reached out and grabbed the collar of Draco's expensive robes, hauling him up like a lost chick.
"Come with me, unless you want to be eaten by the Ghouls around here."
"Oh... oh!"
Draco obediently allowed himself to be dragged along. He even huddled closer to her, as if her side were the safest place in the world.
Tamara dragged the tagalong toward the alley entrance with a dark expression.
She only wanted to throw this nuisance back to Lucius and go buy her Dark Arts materials.
However, just as she dragged Draco out of the dark alley and back toward the entrance of Borgin and Burkes, the filthy shop door suddenly burst open.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
A violent fit of coughing emerged along with a cloud of coal dust.
A figure wearing crooked glasses, covered in soot and looking as dishevelled as if he had just rolled out of a chimney, stumbled out of the shop.
Harry Potter.
He adjusted his glasses, looking around dizzily as if still trying to work out where he was.
Then.
The gazes of the three of them met in dead silence.
Harry: "..."
Draco: "..."
Tamara: "..."
Tamara looked at Draco, whom she was still holding by the collar.
The boy's eyes were wide, staring fixedly at Harry, his expression as vivid as if he had just swallowed a slug.
Then she looked at the soot covered saviour, who was still adjusting his glasses and had not yet grasped the situation.
A suffocating silence followed.
"Wonderful."
Tamara took a deep breath, feeling her blood pressure slowly rise.
"It seems the two greatest brainless idiots in all of Britain have finally staged a grand reunion today."
.....
[Check Out My Patreon For Advance Chapters On All My Fanfics!]
[[email protected]/Eldryx]