For example, the Malfoy family—I heard they gave up more than half of their family fortune just to barely escape prosecution.
Lucius, being a rather cunning and low-profile figure, managed to avoid direct evidence being pinned on him.
He swore up and down that he had been under the Imperius Curse, the only excuse that gave him a chance at freedom.
Those who openly carried out dark deeds weren't so lucky— they were immediately sentenced to Azkaban, where they continue to suffer to this day.
But even though they weren't entirely taken down, the Malfoys have had it rough these past years.
Decades ago, would the Malfoy family have been worried about an Auror-led search of their estate for dark artifacts?
Yet recently, Lucius had to offload another stash of dangerous heirlooms, fearing they'd be discovered.
These were ancestral relics—each worth a fortune!
Lucius never had a fondness for the Weasley family, but now?
He loathed them more than ever.
Ted's gaze flickered toward Ginny, who stood quietly with her head lowered, gripping a set of second-hand textbooks and an old cauldron.
He suspected Lucius was about to take his revenge.
Lucius definitely had no clue that the diary Voldemort left him was a Horcrux.
If he had, he'd have never parted with it, not even under threat of death.
If things spiraled out of control now, destroying the Horcrux later would become nearly impossible.
This particular Horcrux was different—it was the first to carry Voldemort's memory and personality from that time, making it self-aware.
The later Horcruxes weren't made the same way.
Perhaps Voldemort refined his technique to avoid such dangerous vulnerabilities.
Maybe Voldemort had deceived Lucius, telling him the diary was merely a key to the Chamber of Secrets.
It would make sense—hiding one secret beneath another was an old trick.
So Lucius planned to slip Ginny the diary as revenge against Arthur Weasley's pro-Muggle policies.
If Ginny opened the Chamber and Muggle-borns ended up harmed, the backlash against her father's stance would be severe.
Ted sighed.
Voldemort had been gone for over a decade, yet the conflict between pure-bloods and Muggle-borns never stopped.
The bookstore duel had just wrapped up.
The competitors were still exchanging words, unwilling to concede defeat, when suddenly, a commotion erupted in the street outside.
Ted and the others turned in unison, spotting seven or eight wizards sprinting toward them, their robes flapping wildly as they shouted in terror.
"Run! Run! Monsters!"
"A monster broke out of Knockturn Alley!"
"No, not just one—there are many!"
"Ahhh! Help!"
"Mom! Where are you?!"
The wizarding world had been at peace for too long, and few knew how to react to sudden danger.
Panic took over instantly.
In moments, chaos consumed the street—children cried, families scattered, and the once-orderly square turned into a stampede of fear.
From the distance, the sounds of destruction echoed—glass shattering, furniture crashing, spells being hurled in desperation.
But the spells weren't working—their casters were still fleeing.
It looked no different than the panicked crowds of Muggles during a disaster.
Anzu, who had been observing the wizard duel, caught Ted's signal and immediately took flight, soaring toward the source of the chaos.
Ted closed one eye, linking his mind with Anzu's to see through the creature's vision.
A hundred meters away, wizards fled from a side street.
Some were ordinary, but others had the telltale sneers and crooked noses of Knockturn Alley's more unsavory residents.
Ted even recognized the owner of Borgin and Burkes among them.
They were running from something—and whatever it was, it wasn't human.
The first creature to emerge was a monstrous, fish-headed being with glistening scales and unnaturally long limbs, dripping with slime as it walked upright.
A murloc.
Unlike merfolk, who resembled humans, murlocs were more fish than man. And they were known for their cruelty.
Ted had only read about them and seen moving illustrations in books.
This was his first time seeing a real one.
The books described them as vicious hunters.
Though they had their own language, and some could even perform minor magic, their most notorious trait was simple: they ate people.
Four or five murlocs scuttled forward, led by a taller one wielding a crude staff.
They shrieked as they pursued the fleeing wizards, their guttural cries filling the air.
Despite taking hits from the occasional spell, they barely faltered.
Whatever magic resistance they had was strong—they simply got back up and continued the chase.
Behind them, seven or eight goblins joined the fray—not the kind found in Gringotts, but more savage, primal versions.
Their eyes gleamed with bloodthirsty glee, their mouths lined with jagged fangs.
Their nails were long and filthy, and they brandished makeshift weapons—stolen cauldrons, broken furniture, anything they could swing.
They were howling in excitement, urging the murlocs on.
Ted's eyes narrowed.
Goblins weren't usually this bold.
Seven or eight of them shouldn't dare to take on a crowd of wizards.
Unless… they had a leader.
And there it was—a massive, hulking figure emerging from the alley, towering over the rest.
It was over two meters tall, nearly as wide, its body covered in thick, matted fur.
Its long arms dangled past its knees, its snout resembling a cross between a bear and a boar, with sharp teeth jutting from its mouth.
A goblin bear.
Ted's sharp gaze caught the remnants of a broken chain on its wrist.
[Level 10 Rabid Bear Goblin Marauder.]
[Level 2 Anti-Magic Monster.]
A total level of 12.
This was going to be a problem.
According to Ted's identification, the magic resistance of this goblin bear was as high as level 5!
This was the most magically resistant creature Ted had encountered so far.
Even Voldemort, back when he was in his weakened state, might not have been this resistant to magic.
Perhaps only legendary magical creatures—like unicorns, phoenixes, or dragons—could compare.
Most creatures that possessed magic had a certain level of natural resistance, but prolonged exposure to magic without succumbing to its effects often led to a kind of forced adaptation.
In other words, this goblin bear had evolved to resist magic.
And it wasn't just any goblin bear—this one was an elite marauder, bred for combat, specialized in attacking and pillaging.
It had been captured by a group of Dark Wizards who trafficked in rare and dangerous creatures, then sold on the Knockturn Alley black market.
Ted recalled a memory from Professor Quirrell's experiments—he had seen him purchase all sorts of strange creatures from Knockturn Alley merchants, using them for dark magic research.
Despite Ministry of Magic laws forbidding the capture and sale of exotic creatures, illegal trade persisted due to the lucrative profits.
This particular goblin bear was already formidable, but since the black market was slow, it had been sitting unsold for over a month.
During that time, its captors used it for various magical experiments, unintentionally increasing its resistance to spells and turning it into a true anti-magic monster.
Then, one fateful accident gave the creature a chance to break free.
It shattered its magical cage and broke through its enchanted shackles.
In a fit of rage, it crushed the Dark Wizard shopkeeper's skull with a single blow, then rampaged through the underground storeroom, freeing several other captured creatures in the process.
Now, Ted and his friends were only facing part of the chaos—another wave of freed creatures was still wreaking havoc deeper in Knockturn Alley.
The goblin bear, after a month of captivity and torment, was completely feral.
With a guttural roar, it charged out of Knockturn Alley, a group of goblins following in its wake like scavengers drawn to a dying beast.
Two spells from panicked wizards struck the beast—causing it to stagger briefly—but only managed to singe some fur.
At that moment, Gringotts, standing tall at the intersection of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, was the first to be threatened.
A goblin guard dressed in red turned pale and shouted, "Close the doors! Now!"
The goblin bear's rage was instantly redirected.
It locked onto the bright red uniform, much like a mad bull spotting a matador's cape.
One of the goblin guards raised a long, spindly hand and chanted in the guttural goblin tongue, "Pais Asla!"
A spell shot forward, striking the goblin bear square in the chest.
The effect? Practically nothing.
The creature merely shook its head and then, with terrifying speed, closed the distance in a single bound.
A makeshift iron club—likely a piece of its shattered cage—was swung with brutal force.
Even though the goblin guard had cast some protective magic, it did little to save him.
He was launched through the air like a ragdoll, crashing into the cobblestone street with a sickening crack, blood splattering from his mouth.
Before he could even attempt to rise, another goblin—one not wearing a uniform—darted forward.
This one looked just as cunning as the others, but his eyes gleamed with savage cruelty.
A broken glass shard, hastily wrapped with a rag to form a crude dagger, plunged directly into the fallen guard's eye socket.
Blood sprayed violently as the uniformed goblin's body twitched in its final moments.
And his murderer?
The monster goblin let out a delighted cackle, his face twisted with glee.
He was drenched in blood, dancing madly over his fallen kin, reveling in the chaos.
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Word count: 1554
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