"How are we supposed to stay in contact?"
This time, Borgin didn't even bother counting the Galleons inside the dragonhide pouch.
That alone spoke volumes.
It was a gesture of trust.
He had already decided that following Liam was the right choice, and if he wanted a long-term partnership, showing sincerity was a good place to start.
Liam reached into his suitcase and removed a small silver talisman.
"Wear this."
Borgin accepted it and examined the object curiously.
"It's a tracking artifact."
Liam handed it over.
"As long as you're carrying it, I'll know your approximate location."
Then he raised his wand.
A miniature silver dragon emerged from the tip and began circling lazily through the air.
Borgin's eyes widened.
"If I need to contact you, my Patronus will find you."
The silver dragon let out a tiny roar before settling briefly on Liam's shoulder.
"As for you, don't come looking for me."
Liam's tone became serious.
"If anyone discovers our connection, it'll create unnecessary problems."
"Fair enough."
Borgin nodded repeatedly.
Then he looked at the dragon again.
"I have to admit, you're ridiculous."
Liam raised an eyebrow.
"That's supposed to be a compliment."
Borgin laughed.
"When you first came to me looking for books about the Patronus Charm, you couldn't even cast the spell."
That memory was still fresh.
Back then, Liam had wanted information about the ancient defensive charm, but Borgin's access to such material had been limited.
The Patronus Charm wasn't Dark Magic.
Most black-market dealers didn't stock advanced defensive spellbooks.
At the time, the matter had ended there.
Yet only months later, Liam had mastered the spell.
Not only mastered it.
Modified it.
Improved it.
And turned it into a dragon.
"You're terrifyingly talented."
Liam ignored the compliment.
"Enough flattery."
He pointed at the tracking artifact.
"If you encounter a danger you can't handle, tap that three times."
Borgin blinked.
"And then?"
"I'll receive the signal."
Liam looked at the silver dragon circling above them.
"And I'll do my best to send the Guardian Dragon to help."
Borgin stared.
Even after everything he had witnessed, he still occasionally forgot that the person standing in front of him was only nine years old.
"Very well."
He nodded.
"I'll start preparing immediately."
Unlike many dark wizards, Borgin wasn't particularly sentimental.
Once he made a decision, he acted quickly.
Ten minutes later, Liam had finished transferring every dark magical artifact from the shop into the storage area of his suitcase.
At the same time, Borgin emerged from the back room carrying an expanded suitcase of his own.
Everything important had already been packed.
His savings.
His records.
His tools.
Several personal treasures.
The rest could stay behind.
"Let's go."
Liam closed his suitcase.
"We'll head to King's Cross."
Borgin nodded.
"You take the Hogwarts Express back to school."
"And you?"
"I'll catch a Muggle train and disappear somewhere inconvenient."
"Good plan."
Together, they left Knockturn Alley.
After returning to Hogwarts, Liam quickly settled back into his normal routine.
Truthfully, he liked Hogwarts.
There were few places in Britain safer than a castle guarded by Dumbledore and dozens of highly skilled professors.
The school essentially provided free protection from some of the strongest witches and wizards in the country.
Granted, Death Eaters had managed to infiltrate it recently.
But compared to Liam's previous living conditions, Hogwarts was paradise.
Before Azkaban, his growing fortune had constantly attracted trouble.
Every time he eliminated another dark wizard and inherited their possessions, more opportunists appeared.
Some wanted revenge.
Others wanted money.
Many simply believed a child would be easy to rob.
As the saying went, wealth attracted danger.
In Liam's experience, that saying was absolutely correct.
Before his imprisonment in Azkaban, he encountered an average of two or three intruders every week.
Compared to that, Hogwarts was practically a vacation resort.
Several days later, Liam was enjoying a peaceful afternoon.
He sat atop one of the castle's ancient towers, reading a magic book while basking in the sunlight.
A cool breeze swept across the battlements.
Then another gust followed.
A broom descended from the sky.
Cassandra Greengrass landed gracefully nearby.
"Liam!"
She jumped off the broom and hurried toward him.
He closed the book.
"What's got you excited?"
"The Quidditch team."
Her eyes sparkled.
"Marcus sent me."
Liam immediately understood.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
Cassandra grinned.
"He wants you to join."
Liam sighed.
"Still trying?"
"He's desperate."
She laughed.
"He said he's willing to give up the captaincy if that's what it takes."
That actually surprised Liam.
"If he's so determined, why didn't he ask me himself?"
Cassandra immediately answered.
"Because he's terrified of you."
Liam couldn't even argue.
After their previous encounters, Marcus probably did have legitimate reasons to be nervous.
"It would be such a waste if you never played."
Cassandra looked genuinely disappointed.
She had seen Liam train.
His balance on a broom was absurd.
His reflexes were even worse.
Over the past several weeks, she had targeted him with hundreds of practice spells.
Not one had landed.
Not a single one.
With that level of aerial control and reaction speed, she was convinced he would dominate Quidditch.
Even several Bludgers chasing him simultaneously probably wouldn't be enough.
"So?"
She folded her arms.
"What's your answer?"
Liam considered it briefly.
Then he shrugged.
"Fine."
Cassandra's eyes lit up instantly.
"I'll join."
"Really?"
"Really."
She looked ready to celebrate.
Then Liam continued.
"On one condition."
The excitement immediately paused.
"What condition?"
"I'm not becoming captain."
"Deal."
"And I won't attend every team practice."
"Deal."
"And I'll play as a Beater."
"Deal!"
The answer came so quickly that Liam couldn't help laughing.
"You agreed before I even finished."
"Because I knew you'd say yes eventually."
Cassandra looked entirely too pleased with herself.
After calming down, she tilted her head.
"Why Beater?"
Her expression was genuinely curious.
"With your broom skills, you'd make an incredible Seeker."
That was true.
Seekers earned one hundred and fifty points by catching the Golden Snitch.
It was the most famous position on the field.
Most players dreamed of having it.
Liam didn't hesitate.
"Because I want to protect you."
His hand reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair away from Cassandra's cheek.
Her face instantly turned red.
"Y-You're saying things like that again."
She tried to sound annoyed.
Failed completely.
"So that's the reason?"
Liam laughed.
"Partly."
"I knew it."
The blush remained.
"But not entirely."
He leaned against the tower railing.
"The real reason is simpler."
Cassandra waited.
Liam smiled.
"I like attacking."
That answer actually made sense.
"Seekers spend the whole game chasing the Snitch."
His eyes drifted toward the Quidditch pitch below.
"Beaters control the battlefield."
A dangerous grin appeared.
"They decide who gets to fly comfortably and who spends the match running from Bludgers."
Now Cassandra understood.
A Seeker relied on speed and opportunity.
A Beater actively influenced the entire match.
That suited Liam far better.
"If my aim is good enough, I can keep forcing opposing players out of the game."
He crossed his arms.
"Especially their Seeker."
The logic was brutally effective.
If the opposing Seeker spent the entire match dodging Bludgers or flying back to the hoops after being hit, eventually someone from Slytherin would catch the Snitch.
Liam looked toward the distant Quidditch stadium.
A faint smile appeared.
He didn't particularly enjoy losing.
And compared to chasing a tiny golden ball around the sky, smashing Bludgers at the opposing team sounded far more entertaining.
....
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