After getting the cloak, the mask was the most complicated thing to find since most of them were very festive, with the exception of one, which was the perfect fit for this kind of situation: a cat mask. A simple design, but perfect to go unnoticed. Besides, it was her favorite…
Now that I have what I need to hide my identity, only two things remain: one, to find the entrance to the place, and two, to get rid of the map for a moment so Alphonse won't be able to discover I'm in a place that isn't marked.
My teacher used to say that although they were illegal shops hidden in secret spots of Diagon Alley, these were places that never appeared on maps, so their entrances could only be accessed with certain keywords. I never thought that advice would be useful in this situation.
Since I was already dressed, I took advantage of a group of kids passing by and slipped my map into one of their backpacks, then proceeded to enter one of the oldest shops around. Inside, there were only broken or collectible trinkets—a junk shop that no one would ever bother with due to its useless items, mostly odd decorations.
The objects were covered in dust, with cockroaches and rodents crawling over them. As I ventured deeper into the shop, I noticed a desk where the only living light burned: a candle and a book written in a language I had never seen before.
"Something catch your eye, or are you looking for something specific?"—a voice sounded behind me, and I felt the tip of a wand pressing against my back.
"Just browsing. This place looked interesting to me."—Before coming in, I had cast a spell called Sonport, which allows you to change your voice to deeper or higher tones depending on your need, without damaging your vocal cords.
"I see. Next time, call out if you need something before snooping around someone's things,"—snapped a hunched old woman, who walked past me after pulling her wand away from my back.
The old woman sat down at the desk and began to read from the strange book in that unknown tongue. Looking at her more closely, I could see her gray hair, her rotten teeth that seemed ready to fall from her mouth at any moment, and her fingers, whose tips had turned completely dark compared to the rest of her pale, lifeless skin. On her hands, she wore rings with skulls, and others with strange black pearls.
This woman clearly had the knowledge to point me toward the entrances of the darker corners of the alley, but first I would have to earn her trust—the hardest part of all this…
"Forgive me, ma'am. I didn't mean to be rude. I'll take a few things from here, so I'll look around a bit more."
"Buy fast and get out if you don't want me to throw you out myself."—she spat, her tone full of disgust.
I turned and looked around more carefully. It was obvious she was watching me from several spots in the shop—I could feel eyes on me everywhere, so I had to tread carefully.
Inside were various stuffed creatures on display, some I had never seen before. Some looked almost artificial, fake even. There were different variants of wendigos, mandrakes, and similar plants—Prik would have been fascinated by them. There were even carnivorous plants and spiders with flowers growing on their bodies as camouflage to catch insects. There was bone jewelry, much like the old woman's, potions, ancient books, and rare magical artifacts. All of it was amazing, but not what I needed…
"Watch out!!"—shouted a man running up from the basement, chasing a small black cat that darted past me at high speed.
I turned just as the cat stopped dead and stared directly into my eyes. Its eyes shifted color, from blue to violet, before leaping onto me and perching on my head.
The old woman shot up furiously from her seat and strode toward me in a threatening manner, completely ignoring the man who was desperately begging her forgiveness.
"Interesting… I've never seen that before. Tell me, runt… what is it you're really after?"
I didn't know what was happening. This was strange—the old woman's demeanor had suddenly shifted into something more curious toward me. Could it have something to do with the cat?
"I'm looking for metals—red gold and some other materials I was told I could find here."
"Who gave you that information, runt?"—the old woman asked, slightly irritated, pressing her wand against my throat.
"Among our kind, we don't betray each other. Sorry, old woman, I can't say."
"You're quite a strange one… and your creature shouldn't even be here."—She lowered her wand and tried to grab the cat clinging to my head, though it clawed tightly at my cloak, refusing to let go.
"Definitely something odd."—the old woman muttered, finally giving up and turning away, walking toward the basement. "Well, what are you waiting for, runt? Follow me before I change my mind. Philip, mind the shop. I'll deal with you later for what happened."
We descended the stairs, and she lit another candle, which cut a path through the thick darkness of the basement.
After a few steps, we reached one of the four walls of the cellar.
"Here you'll find what you need, runt. Don't take long, and don't speak a word of this place—or I'll come looking for you myself."
The old woman raised the candle in her right hand, then with her left pushed straight through the wall as if it were nothing. As she pulled her hand back, I noticed something I hadn't seen before, hidden beneath her robes: on her forearm was the unmistakable image I had once seen before my death—the Dark Mark, the skull and serpent branded with fire into the left forearm… the symbol of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
It was no surprise that people like her lived here, in these underworlds… but I never thought I'd run into one of them so soon.
That had to be the key to accessing this place. And now I understood the man's terror, why he had been begging her for forgiveness. These people were cruel, ruthless—one mistake could cost you your life, or the life of someone you love.
"Alright, old woman. I'll buy what I need and then I'll be on my way."
She stepped back without taking her eyes off me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and stepped forward, walking straight through the wall.
When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in an alley similar to Diagon Alley, but this was different. Its dark tones and foul stench flooded the air. It was literally the opposite of Diagon Alley. Shops displayed illegal creatures—fairies and mermaids—treated as trophies, some still alive, chained by their limbs.
There were also severed heads of different creatures preserved in jars of green liquid, eyes of all shapes and sizes, and bizarre food of dubious origin. The people here didn't take their eyes off me.
Just by looking at them, I could tell this was a truly dangerous place. Some, like me, wore masks and full cloaks to conceal themselves. Others walked openly through the dark streets, their fine clothing revealing their high status. And then there were those consumed by the place itself, people filthy, rotting away, wasted by drugs or potions that granted them brief moments of happiness in their wretched street lives.
It was an atmosphere very much like the one I had lived in after the tragedy. It felt like being back in my own time… Right now, I was in my element.
Walking through these streets was easier—there were no crowds, no packed shops. The only problem for an outsider was not knowing how to negotiate.
"You damned runt, what are you doing with my creature?!"—a man bellowed in front of me, limping on a wooden leg, his filthy, disheveled appearance making him look like some kind of pirate.