HP: I beat the otome game at Hogwarts

Leila turned around and saw a hunched-over man behind the counter, his hair greasy and his murky, dark green eyes looking like a stagnant pool of water covered with duckweed.

But Leila dared not underestimate it. The stagnant pool might be hiding a monster with fangs, waiting for a careless guest to slip and fall, so it could devour the flesh and bones in an instant.

“I’ve never heard of a shop that only welcomes customers by appointment,” Lyra said, a smirk playing on her lips, her right hand already touching her wand. “While it’s not that people come uninvited, some do come because they’ve heard about it—”

“Oh, that’s a great honor for our humble establishment—” the hunchbacked shopkeeper said in a tone as slick as his hair. “It’s a great honor, my lady. What can I do for you?”

"I'd like to buy some interesting trinkets, just browsing around." Lyra seemed nonchalant, but her right hand never left her wand.

"Of course, my shop has a wide variety of goods at fair prices—" The hunchbacked shopkeeper grinned with a menacing smile.

Leila wandered around the dimly lit shop, glancing at the shelves full of skulls, seemingly uninterested.

She then walked to another shelf, where a withered human hand lay on a mat—the very thing she had noticed when she first entered the shop. She bent down to examine it closely, but did not reach out to touch it.

I remember last summer when we stayed at the Burrow, Mr. Weasley mentioned that many dark magic items should not be touched rashly, otherwise one might never be free from them.

For example, the Ministry of Magic once confiscated a book that blinded everyone who read it; there was also a book called "The Wizard's Sonnets," which confined readers to speaking only in five-line doggerel for their entire lives; and there was an old wizard in Bath who had a book that people could never put down once they picked it up! They would bury their faces in the book wherever they went and could only learn to do everything with one hand.

"Ah, what a discerning young lady!" the hunchbacked shopkeeper eagerly approached to introduce, "This is the Hand of Glory. If you stick a candle in it, only the person holding it can see the light. It's the best friend of thieves and robbers!"

“Oh, but I’m already used to the Invisibility Cloak,” Lyra said critically, “it doesn’t seem very convenient to hold it with one hand.”

"Of course, an invisibility cloak is always the most convenient. It seems your family is quite well-off, as invisibility cloaks are not commonly seen—" the hunchbacked shopkeeper asked tentatively. "However, the quality of invisibility cloaks varies. May I ask what quality the one you have is—"

Lyra recalled the two invisibility cloaks she had used before. One was borrowed from Harry and was said to be a family heirloom of the Potters. The other was used when she went on a nighttime stroll through Hagrid's hut with Draco Malfoy. It seemed to be of lower quality than Harry's invisibility cloak, but the young master of the Malfoy family should not have any inferior products, so the invisibility cloak must not be a common item.

Lyra thought for a moment and finally decided to describe the appearance of the Invisibility Cloak in Draco Malfoy's possession. She suspected that the one inherited by the Potter family might be some kind of historical artifact, but Harry was the only remaining member of the Potter family, so describing it wouldn't make sense.

“Oh, I know about this quality of invisibility cloak. It costs 100,000 gold galleons and is not something an ordinary person can get their hands on,” the hunchbacked shopkeeper said, his expression becoming much more respectful after hearing Lyra’s description. He bowed deeply to her and said, “It seems you are a noble lady. It is my honor to serve you in my shop.”

Ha, as expected, nothing in the Malfoys' shop is cheap. It seems the hunchbacked shopkeeper who calls himself Old Borkin has misunderstood. But that's fine too; in a place like Knockturn Alley, being seen as a pure-blooded nobleman is much better than being discovered to be an ordinary person without any power.

Leila walked discreetly towards the shop entrance, feigning interest in a magnificent opal necklace on the counter, its label bearing a brief description—

Beware: Do not touch it, it has been cursed—it has already taken the lives of nineteen Muggles.

Lyra felt uneasy reading this, but outwardly she kept her gaze fixed on the necklace, pondering how to escape the shop and reunite with Theodore Nott as soon as possible.

“This necklace is perfect for other ladies,” old Bokin said, his sales pitch now even more eager, “for example, if any lady is so blind as to try and get close to your husband or lover, you can send her this necklace. It’s the perfect gift for a rival—”

The hunchbacked old man was standing too close; his greasy hair was almost touching her face. Leila took a few steps back uncomfortably, creating some distance.

Lyra then moved to another counter near the shop entrance, expecting the perceptive old man to continue enthusiastically introducing other dark magic items. However, he stood still, sniffed, and looked at her with an ambiguous expression.

Oh no—

Although she didn't know where she had given herself away, Lyra, knowing she had slipped up, immediately drew her wand and coldly took her leave: "That's all for today, I have a meeting with my friend coming up soon."

As she spoke, she cautiously backed away towards the shop entrance, until she walked out of the shop.

Fortunately, old Bojin didn't stop her. Seeing her leave his shop, his cloudy eyes gleamed as he gave her a quiet farewell: "Welcome to visit again, young lady—"

It tastes like a compound decoction!

It seems this old Borgin is no ordinary person; besides being proficient in dark magic, he's also quite skilled in potions.

Lyra walked out of the dimly lit shop and discovered that the shop was called Borkin-Bock. She figured that besides old Borkin, there must be another partner named Bock.

Leila was relieved to have only encountered one of them today.

She walked slowly out, passing shops that were all associated with dark magic. One shop window displayed some shriveled human heads in a sinister way, which looked nauseating; another shop had a large cage outside, crawling with huge black spiders.

It truly lives up to its name, Knockout Alley, a favorite gathering place for dark wizards.

Lyra wandered around but couldn't find Theodore Nott, and she grew increasingly anxious, especially since two ragged wizards were watching her and whispering in a dark doorway—this was the second time she had passed through this place.

"Honey, are you lost?" The voice that suddenly rang in her ears made Leila's heart pound. She tried to keep her expression on her face, but it didn't seem to work.

An old woman with long, pointed fingernails approached her, carrying a dish of dead people's fingernails.

"Get away!" Lyra pointed her wand at her.

But the old woman paid her no heed, grinning and revealing her moss-covered teeth as she extended her sharp, pointed fingernails toward her—