"Growable magic wand? What task do you need to complete?" Even though it sounded like an unusual request, Adrian Blackwood's eyes lit up. If this system truly offered such a rare magical artifact, then he was determined to succeed. Becoming a wandmaker—or at least mastering wandlore—was a worthy pursuit.
"Mission: Lift the curse on the zombie and gain its gratitude. Due to the increased difficulty of the task, the host is permitted to use their wand. The system will temporarily provide map navigation via Arcane Eye enchantment to help locate the zombie. Time limit: 15 hours. Please proceed with haste!"
As soon as the system's voice fell silent, golden phosphorescent smoke shimmered into a thin sheet in front of Adrian, forming a detailed magical map. No one else around seemed able to perceive it. A raven-shaped icon marked Adrian's current location. His eyes tracked movement further up the map—something vaguely lizard-like flickered and glowed. The icon wasn't static either. It moved, weaving through the tangled alleys of what could only be Knockturn Alley.
"Adrian, don't just stand there daydreaming. We still need to get your Hogwarts robes. Let's go to Madam Malkin's before the rush," his mother, Morgan le Fay Blackwood, called as she gently but firmly took his arm.
Dragged away from Ollivanders, Adrian found himself pulled toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The windows were filled with hovering signage—"Seasonal Sale: 50% Off!", "Now Enchanted With Self-Ironing & Auto-Mending Charms!"—and a rotating mannequin displayed the latest in Hogwarts uniform styles.
As they stepped inside, Madam Malkin herself bustled over to greet them. A plump witch in lavender robes with glittering glasses, she smiled broadly. "Morgan le Fay, dear, good morning! Always a pleasure. What can I do for you today?"
"Two full Hogwarts sets for my youngest, Adrian Blackwood," she said with a proud smile, nudging him forward. "Use quality fabric, constant-temperature enchantments. Something durable. He's entering first year."
"So young already? Time certainly does fly." Madam Malkin examined Adrian thoughtfully. "Another Blackwood at Hogwarts—I imagine you'll be sorted into Ravenclaw or Slytherin, clever as your family's reputation suggests. Let's see to your measurements."
Adrian, still half-focused on the arcane map only he could see, sighed and climbed onto the fitting stool. Madam Malkin draped him in a trial robe and flicked her wand. Measuring tapes zoomed through the air, pinning and trimming with surgical precision.
Meanwhile, Madam Malkin chatted as she worked. "Morgan le Fay, I must say—you always had taste, but it's rare to see you dote on one of your children like this. Does Adrian show magical aptitude already?"
Adrian paid little attention to the uniform black Hogwarts robes, which lacked the flair of adult wizarding robes in the shop's premium section. He already had a far more powerful garment—his enchanted robe that could render him invisible, protect against dark curses, and even transform its appearance.
While she tailored, Madam Malkin's expression turned focused, far removed from her usual cheer. Watching her work, Adrian recalled a Muggle literature reference from one of his reading quests. The name "Malkin" likely derived from "grimalkin," a supernatural cat associated with witches in Shakespeare's Macbeth. Ironic, given how refined and sharp Madam Malkin seemed.
Nearby, Morgan le Fay was already browsing the women's section with characteristic decisiveness. Clearly, her real reason for visiting early was to avoid the afternoon shopping crowd and enjoy a bit of retail therapy.
"Mother, I promised Harry I'd meet him today. Since I'm done, can I go find him?" Adrian asked while his mother was distracted by a selection of velvet travel cloaks.
"Did you say Harry? As in Harry Potter?" Madam Malkin asked with sudden interest. "He'll be starting Hogwarts this year, won't he? The Boy Who Lived—imagine that! You'll be classmates!"
Morgan le Fay didn't answer the question. Instead, she fished out five gold Galleons and a silver Sickle from her bag and slipped them into Adrian's pouch. "Go ahead, but be back at the Leaky Cauldron before sunset. We'll dine there tonight—I've no time to cook."
Of course, Adrian had no real intention of seeking out Harry Potter—not today. He still had too many secrets to reveal, too many plans to prepare. And now he had a new priority: completing the system's mission.
"Reminder: To lift the curse on the zombie, proceed to Knockturn Alley and retrieve the Fortune Goddess's Orb."
With a final glance at the floating map, Adrian stepped outside. The path ahead would not be easy—but it promised rare magic, deeper knowledge, and power that even Ollivander's finest wand couldn't grant.
"Who exactly is the Goddess of Fortune? Is there some legend in the wizarding world beyond the Deathly Hallows?" Adrian Blackwood was genuinely puzzled, but with time running short, he decided to put off further research until he had access to the Hogwarts library. Rising to his feet, he followed the arcane map's guidance toward Knockturn Alley.
Before entering the shadowy alley, Adrian ducked into a dead-end beside a shop, pulled up the hood and enchanted mask of his robe to conceal his identity, and activated its embedded magical protections. His enchanted wizard's robe—crafted with concealment, anti-hex, and appearance-altering charms—would render most common jinxes ineffective, and unless directly apprehended, his identity would remain hidden.
Knockturn Alley was no place for an underage wizard, let alone one who hadn't even received his Hogwarts letter yet. It was a haven for Dark magic and shady dealings, where sinister witches and wizards mingled with questionable merchants. Cursed objects, enchanted relics, and rare but dangerous magical ingredients were readily available—though many came at great cost, including life and limb. Even adult witches and wizards treaded carefully here unless they had strong defensive magic or the protection of powerful allies.
Adrian crept cautiously past a hunched old witch pushing a cart of wriggling, multicolored potions; sidestepped a scarred wizard carrying a shrunken head; and dodged a swirl of enchanted fog before arriving at a grimy, dust-covered storefront with cracked windows. A twisted, dark red sign hung from iron chains above the entrance, its peeling paint resembling dried blood: Borgin and Burkes. The black, serpent-like lettering seemed to squirm faintly as it caught the light.
Borgin and Burkes was the most infamous establishment in Knockturn Alley—specializing in Dark artifacts, cursed relics, and illegal magical devices. Adrian knew from his reading that Tom Riddle, the boy who would become Lord Voldemort, had once worked here. During that time, Riddle had manipulated the shop's dealings to identify and steal powerful heirlooms, such as Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Salazar Slytherin's locket—both of which would become Horcruxes. After murdering their owner, Hepzibah Smith, Riddle vanished, and the shop continued quietly under the management of the same morally flexible proprietors.
Adrian hesitated at the threshold. He knew even Muggle shops had motion sensors—surely a black magic store once frequented by Voldemort would have magical alarms. Instead of charging in, he waited patiently. Luck favored him: within minutes, a tall, gaunt wizard wearing a skull-like mask appeared and entered the shop.
A few seconds later, Adrian slipped inside behind him, timing the movement with the slow-closing door. A silver bell above the door chimed delicately—surprisingly cheerful, and comically out of place in such a grim setting.
Adrian frowned beneath his mask. "That's it? A mundane bell? Not even a trace-detection charm?" He felt slightly let down.
The masked wizard wasted no time, striding to the main counter. Moments later, a pale, hunched figure emerged—his hair slicked back with a greasy sheen. It was Mr. Caractacus Burke, the co-owner. His voice was as oily as his appearance.
"Welcome to Borgin and Burkes. What might I help you acquire today?"
The skull-masked wizard replied in a distorted, muffled voice, "I have a cursed necklace here. It's claimed nineteen Muggle lives. Interested?"
Burke's expression sharpened at once. He withdrew a pair of rust-colored dragon-hide gloves and silver tweezers from beneath the counter. With careful precision, he lifted the necklace onto a tray lined with deep crimson velvet. Drawing his wand, he murmured, "Revelio." Each opal on the chain flickered with silvery light.
After a moment, Burke muttered, "Necklace cursed by the spirit of Eris… potent, and almost undetectable by Muggle means. I'll offer one hundred and twenty Galleons."
The masked wizard scoffed. "Don't insult me, Burke. Items cursed by Eris are rare and valuable. The Muggle Ministry couldn't even trace it. Two hundred Galleons."
Burke sniffed, clearly annoyed. "You know full well how strictly the Auror Office is monitoring Dark item trades these days…"
Adrian tuned them out. He scanned the dim interior of the shop, noting a row of display cases containing severed hands, jawbones, and rusted magical instruments. Chains hung from the ceiling, some still twitching as if recently used. Greasy masks glared from the walls. Two spherical objects behind a case briefly caught his attention, but the enchanted map gave no signal—they weren't the magical orb he was seeking.
The sale concluded with a curt exchange—170 Galleons in a clinking pouch. Burke attempted to upsell the masked man on a few cursed daggers and a suspiciously twitchy mirror, but was quickly brushed off.
Then, the man moved to a hidden doorway near the right side of the main lobby. He pressed a rune-marked tile, and the darkened panel slid open with a faint hiss. Without hesitation, he passed through.
Adrian took a slow breath and made his move, quietly slipping after the man into the secret passage beyond. Whatever was hidden deeper inside Borgin and Burkes, it might lead him closer to the magical orb—and one step nearer to lifting the zombie's curse.