December 27, 1992.
Just after Christmas, the West End of London's Oxford Street was already bustling with the sounds of celebration. Mountains of Muggles donned their brand new clothes and took to the streets. Children laughed and joked, young people met up to exchange heartfelt New Year wishes, and everyone harbored in their hearts a longing for a better life. The falling snow couldn't extinguish the smiles on their faces.
To wizards, Christmas is also one of the most important holidays of the year, but the way wizarding families celebrate it is completely different from that of Muggles.
They prefer to spend the holiday season indoors, listening to the crackling sound of the fire in the fireplace, sitting under a Christmas tree decked with silver and holly, discussing Quidditch or recent news.
So, as the wizarding business hub of Diagon Alley is typically desolate during the New Year period, it's even less crowded on a normal day.
Clank, clank, click!
Amorta, hidden from view by a wide black cloak, stepped down from the same type of trolley as Gringotts Bank, even though his stomach was churning with nausea. To maintain his cold persona, he had to act as if nothing was wrong.
The air was filled with the stench of fermented slug mucus soaked in rotting frog intestines, and the uneven ground was wet. Rows of upside-down torches floated neatly in the air, casting a ghostly green light on the vast fan-shaped underground cave.
Amorta's gaze swept around. Two hundred feet to his left, in the 'pet' market, the giant creature, standing fifteen feet tall and tightly chained by thick iron shackles around its limbs, was listlessly slumped on the ground, almost blending into the dark rock wall.
The creature's owner was an old witch from Moldavia, with a mouthful of missing teeth. She had brought the creature here hoping to sell it for a good price, so that she could use the money to treat her dragon pox.
Unfortunately, it has been two years, and no one has shown any interest in purchasing it.
At this moment, the old witch was leaning on the slave's toes and shouting at a large group of house-trained wizards nearby, cursing them for polluting the environment.
They were a group of house-trained wizards who had no masters and had regained their freedom.
Of course, describing wizards as 'free' is akin to calling centaurs 'beasts,' and such a description is unlikely to be met with gratitude.
These poor little creatures were mostly once owned by small wizarding families or covenants. Their owners, for various reasons, disappeared into the flow of time, causing the little wizards to be forced into freedom.
It's extremely frightening for house-trained wizards to lose their owners, as it effectively deprives them of their value. So the little creatures have gathered here spontaneously, hoping to find a new owner for themselves.
To be honest, apart from black witches who need living material for spells and potions, no one generally pays any attention to them.
The giant creature towards the little wizards was quite friendly. Amorta had personally seen the starving giant creature once, who had killed several of them with a single blow and eaten them with great pleasure.
Besides the giant and wizards, the pet market that smelled like a toilet also had many other interesting creatures. For example, there were centaurs who had lost their tribe's protection, capturable Muggles who had been caught by a Cupid's arrow (a desirable item), vampires locked in cages, or Irish pixies as excellent live material.
Essentially, with the exception of particularly taboo creatures like fire dragons and unicorns, you can find most of the magical creatures that exist in the magical world in the pet market of the underworld.
The trading market to the right of the rock wall still maintained the primitive style of Europe during the Middle Ages, but the items for sale on the makeshift stalls scattered randomly on the ground were far from ordinary.
Books that record black magic originating from ancient Greece, potions that greatly enhance magical power but have unclear side effects, alchemical items that can instantly annihilate life at large scale --- well, in comparison to those things, the products sold in the Borgin and Burkes store can only be considered as toy pranks beloved by young wizards, and devil's nets here are nothing but decorative plants.
Amorta had even seen the curse seed of the Black Death, which had decimated all of Europe in those days, at an Italian wizard's stall. The wizard selling it claimed that the curse he had was weakened, but if it spread out, eliminating a city's Muggles would be no problem.
Of course, the price of the curse seed matched its effect, otherwise, Amorta would really want to buy it and study it.
And this is the dark side of the magical world, a true no man's land.
After a while, feeling better, Amorta took a step and walked towards the center of the cave, gradually merging into the sparse crowd.
Many of the people here are dressed in black robes, not wanting to be seen in their true forms.
Only a few reckless madmen and wizards who happened to pass through England from time to time dare to appear in front of the magical part's hidden watchers.
Yes, you didn't hear wrong.
Yes, you didn't hear wrong. The underground world of Diagon Alley has a secret detachment of Aurors, but their existence is only to monitor that no 'extreme' incidents occur here, and not to wipe them out. Unless the Ministry of Magic wants to go to war with all the remaining ancient magical families in Britain, including those who practice black magic.
At the center of the cave was a square area surrounded by granite short walls, which was the delegation market of the underground world. At one end of the courtyard wall stood a tall signboard, made of serpentwood. There were hundreds of contract deeds shimmering with red magical glow, posted on it. They quietly awaited someone to take them down.
Amorta stood under the signboard and scanned it, but found no valuable assignments. He then turned around, found a stone bench to sit on, and waited for potential trading partners to arrive.
Perhaps because of the New Year, there were still no one here, except for two people who were whispering to each other at a distance of ten feet to the right and back side.
One of them was wearing a brown linen robe, with a bald head covered in boils and scabies. He looked like an eighty-year-old wizard and raised his head to look at Amorta when he heard the sound.
Apparently, he was disdainful of Amorta's decision to hide his true face under a twisted magical vortex. He bared his mouth with only three or four yellow teeth, and snorted out foul breath, his face half blackened like charred tree bark, the other half covered with pink, tentacle-like small buds wildly wriggling.
However, when the old wizard noticed the golden snake embroidered on Amorta's collar, he quickly straightened his disgusted smile and nodded politely before turning away his gaze.
Amorta, however, took a bit of interest in the old wizard's interesting face.
If he guessed correctly, it should be injuries caused by the failure of a spell to release the soul-cutting magic during the creation of a soul jar, leading to severe magical backlash.
According to Amorta's knowledge, the only thing that can temporarily slow down the spread of such spell damage is a certain thing. The conversation between the two people also verified his guess.
"Very hard to get, and also very dangerous, you should know where only one can find a unicorn in all of Britain!"
The thin wizard opposite the old wizard, as slender as a bamboo pole, took out a glass cup from under his robe. The silver liquid inside shone brightly in the dim underground world, and he spoke carefully.
The old wizard understood the meaning of this, and he let out a piercing cold laugh. He also took out a fist-sized piece of secret silver from his pocket and threw it on the table,
"Of course, of course, even here, few people are willing to touch the dark cloud of Dumbledore. I've been waiting for this for a while now. You have a lot of courage, I am very impressed---"
Underground world transactions are always straightforward, rarely involving haggling. If a deal can't be made, it's just kill the other party.
Amorta watched the old wizard with interest, and when he saw him take the glass cup, carefully sniff it and pour it into his mouth, a playful look appeared on his face through the blurry light.
Something must be mentioned here,
Because of the flaws in traditional magical education, which often allows a particular branch of magic to be extremely proficient, while in another area, they may be as ignorant as a beginner with magic, while modern magical education that takes place in schools is unlikely to produce groundbreaking talents, at least not many. However, at least it can ensure balance.
Knowledge balance is very important.
At least in the current transaction, any Hogwarts O.W.L.s-level qualified student would not be tricked by someone using a Love Potion with transformed daphne feathers.
PS: Please collect, recommend, and thank!
