The tall wizard had a long stride, and Allen had to trot just to keep up.
Fortunately, Allen's physical fitness was exceptional. This bit of exercise didn't even make him breathe harder.
The two of them made their way through the narrow alleys. More than once, Allen thought they had crossed into the shady side of Diagon Alley. Yet every time he turned his head, he could glimpse the bustling streets of the main alley through cracks between buildings.
After an unknown amount of time, the tall wizard finally stopped in front of a shabby-looking shack.
He turned to Allen and explained, "The rent here is cheaper. Although it's a little more expensive than deeper inside the alley, the security is much better here. Saves a lot of trouble."
He gestured toward a nearby alley as he spoke. "That's the road leading further in. See? There are Aurors stationed there, so it's safe here."
Was he trying to explain that they were still within Diagon Alley? At the same time, was he reassuring Allen not to be afraid—that it was safe?
Allen hadn't expected this tall wizard to have such a warm and matter-of-fact attitude. Caught off guard, he remained silent.
Seeing Allen unmoved, the tall wizard grunted, pushed open the weathered wooden door, and entered the shack.
Allen instinctively covered his nose. But despite its dilapidated exterior, the interior was surprisingly clean.
Still, "house with four walls" was a generous description. Aside from the table at the front of the room, there was only one object that could loosely be called a bed.
The tall wizard stepped inside and returned shortly after, carrying three sealed bottles filled with bright red dragon's blood. Each bottle looked to hold about a pint.
"Here it is," the tall wizard said, placing the bottles in front of Allen.
"You're just leaving so much dragon blood out like this? Aren't you afraid someone will steal it?" Allen asked.
"Who would come here to steal anything?" the tall wizard replied casually.
"Mind introducing yourself before we make the trade? I still don't know your name," Allen said.
"My name's Alberta Douglas. I used to be a dragon tamer. Now… I'm unemployed," Alberta said with a sharp glare. "You got any more questions?"
"Nope. Let's talk price," Allen replied.
Allen didn't know much about the profession of dragon taming. His only impression came from the Triwizard Tournament, where dragon tamers mostly served as background characters.
He hadn't expected a dragon tamer to be so formidable.
At a rough estimate, Alberta had a hunting level of 85—definitely capable of pinning a fire dragon to the ground and dragging it around.
"Don't waste my time. Four hundred and fifty Galleons. Just pay," Alberta said bluntly.
Allen's eyes lit up at the price. "Do you think I'm that easy to rip off?"
Alberta frowned. "That's a fair market price. Sometimes, dragon blood costs even more."
"Clearly, you don't get it. Diagon Alley's big—but you're not on the main street. You're not in the market," Allen said. "Let me be honest. Is this dragon blood from a legitimate source?"
"If your price is the same as the shops out front, why would I buy from you back here?" he continued.
Alberta's frown deepened. She knew Allen had a point. "Fine. What's your offer?"
"How about seventy Galleons?" Allen said, wielding his metaphorical dragon-slaying blade.
"Are you kidding me?" Alberta's expression turned icy. "That's even lower than what black market dealers pay."
"Oh? So black market dealers have more integrity than me? That's surprising." Allen shrugged and opened his palm. "Alright, how much do they offer? I'll add five Galleons on top."
Alberta almost laughed. "So what, you expect me to thank you for your generosity?"
"That won't be necessary." Allen shook his head. "But I'll be buying regularly, and in large quantities. For you, a stable buyer is better than sitting around hoping someone stumbles in."
Allen glanced at the sky, estimating the time. "I've still got a month until school starts. I'll be needing one bottle of dragon blood every day until then."
"A month?" Alberta asked, surprised.
"Yeah. School starts in just over a month," Allen replied casually. "I'm going to Hogwarts."
Alberta raised a hand to her forehead. Allen's mature demeanor had made her forget his age. Of course—he was just a kid. A kid who should be preparing for school, not standing in an alley haggling over dragon blood.
Why had she taken it so seriously, thinking a child would be doing business with her?
"Get out!" Alberta snapped. "I'll let you off for playing games with me this time. But next time, I'll throw you into a goblin cave!"
Her tirade was answered not by words, but by a gleam of gold.
Allen calmly took ninety Galleons from his wallet and laid them out on the table, then looked Alberta squarely in the eyes.
"I'm not playing games," he said. "My name is Allen Cecil. If you've heard that name, I don't think you'll be telling me to get out."
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