Harry potter:Dark lord

"Clang!"

The bell above the store door rang as Robert and Tom stepped inside, immediately greeted by a strange stench.

The store was cluttered, more like a warehouse of discarded items than a proper shop.

To the left of the entrance, second-hand robes were piled on a counter like a heap of rags. Several adult wizards in plain clothes sifted through them, searching for the right sizes for their children.

On the right, there was an untidy stack of books—mostly second-hand textbooks, worn and tattered. Only a handful of other books remained, but even those were in mediocre condition. The best-preserved second-hand books had likely been snatched up already.

Tom frowned as he took in the sight, feeling a slight sense of relief.

Although following Robert in his risky endeavors came with dangers, it had at least spared him the humiliation of buying low-quality junk from a place like this.

Robert was right. If I brought these scraps into Hogwarts, I'd definitely be looked down upon.

Clothing defines a person, just as a saddle defines a horse. People judge by appearances before they recognize one's abilities.

Unlike the warm, eager service in other stores, the clerk here was slumped over the counter, dozing off. He only lifted his head lazily when someone approached to pay, counting items halfheartedly before collecting money.

The shop's merchandise was cheap, so the clerks likely earned little. Their lack of enthusiasm was unsurprising.

Despite this, quite a few wizards were browsing the shelves, searching for bargains.

Robert quickly found what he was looking for in the glass display near the street-facing window.

A heap of worn-out wands and a bundle of quills—many missing their feathers—were tossed into a wooden box like discarded firewood.

Tom felt disheartened at the sight of second-hand wands so damaged that their cores were exposed.

Wouldn't these wands explode if someone tried casting spells with them?

Robert, however, remained unfazed. Wands discarded like this were unlikely to be in good condition.

But for Robert, these wands were perfect.

Many had likely belonged to fallen wizards, carrying residual traces of soul rings—remnants of their previous owners' magical imprints.

This meant the wands had already been attuned to dark magic.

Ideal for practicing spells that needed to remain hidden…

After some searching, Robert finally pulled out a wand from the pile. It only had some paint peeling off.

"Wow! This one's almost new! A rare find!"

Compared to the others—some missing cores altogether—this wand was in remarkably good condition.

Robert handed it to Tom. "Here, this one's for you."

Then, he dived back into the pile, eager to find more.

Tom took the wand and gave it a test swing. It felt balanced and responsive.

Oddly, it seemed... excited?

As if it had been waiting for him all along.

"Looks like this one's mine," Tom thought.

This time, there was no Ollivander to explain the wand's origins. Tom had no idea what wood or core it contained.

But since it felt right in his hand, he decided it would serve as a good backup wand.

When Robert finally emerged from the pile again, he held five second-hand wands.

Though not as pristine as Tom's, they were still functional—at least, their cores remained intact.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Why are you buying so many?"

"Better to be prepared."

Robert tucked the wands under his arm and scanned the rest of the store.

Tom, on the other hand, turned toward the pile of old books.

Toby had mentioned that while most of the books here were junk, every now and then, someone stumbled upon hidden treasures.

Maybe there was a forgotten magical manuscript buried among the trash.

Robert shared the same thought and followed Tom toward the pile.

Tom crouched, using his wand to push aside some grimy second-hand textbooks. Then, he carefully sifted through the mess.

Robert walked around to the other side, planning to sort through from there.

As Robert moved around the pile, he suddenly felt a flicker of light.

Was he imagining things?

He turned toward a nearby shelf of alchemical tools.

The shelf was a disorderly mess, mostly filled with broken artifacts.

But among the clutter, something faintly glowed blue.

Intrigued, Robert moved closer, raising his wand cautiously.

Like Tom, he used his wand to push aside the debris—better to be careful when handling unfamiliar magical objects.

Finally, the source of the glow was revealed.

A golden strip, about two fingers thick, covered in strange engravings.

It looked like a finely crafted lighter.

The faint blue glow pulsed along its engravings.

Robert hesitated, then tapped it lightly with his wand.

Nothing happened.

The blue glow continued to shimmer.

To be cautious, Robert used his wand to summon a small gecko from the wall, letting it crawl onto the lighter.

He watched closely.

Nothing unusual happened.

Only after confirming it was safe did Robert finally pick up the lighter.

Although this store dealt in second-hand goods, it was still a legal business. They wouldn't knowingly trade in dark magic artifacts.

If someone had tried to sell a cursed item, they would have taken it to Knockturn Alley, not here.

Even so, Robert preferred to be sure.

He examined the lighter closely, then placed his thumb on the glowing patterns.

"Crack!"

A thin seam appeared on the top edge of the lighter.

Robert gently pried it open.

A small, flickering blue flame emerged.

Robert frowned.

Just a lighter?

No… Something wasn't right.

Why would an ordinary lighter emit light on its own?

He snapped the lid shut. "Click!"

The flame disappeared.

"Tom, come look at this."

Tom walked over. "What is it?"

Robert handed him the lighter. "Doesn't it look strange to you?"

Tom inspected it. "Isn't this just an ordinary gold-plated lighter?"

Robert stared. "You don't see the blue light?"

Tom looked confused. "What blue light?"

He fiddled with the lighter and tried to ignite it.

Nothing happened.

Robert narrowed his eyes.

He took the lighter back, flicked it open effortlessly.

"Crack!"

The blue flame appeared again.

Tom's eyes widened. "Wait… let me try again!"

But no matter how hard Tom tried, he couldn't open the lighter.

A realization dawned on Robert.

"So the blue light… is visible only to me."

He turned the lighter over in his hands, deep in thought.

What exactly was this strange artifact?

(End of Chapter 43)

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