Hogwarts: Lacus doesn't want to be a witch who destroys nations.

When Lux returned to Borgin-Bock, the clerk, seeing the heavy bag of Galleons in her hand, finally managed a forced, almost enthusiastic smile on his sallow face.

"It seems you two are in luck. Please come with me; the collector is in the reception room at the back."

He led the two through shelves piled with dangerous items and pushed open a heavy wooden door hidden behind a tapestry.

The room behind the door was even darker than the outside, lit only by the flickering green flames in the fireplace, and filled with a faint, strange scent reminiscent of old parchment and dried flowers.

In the center of the room, a figure with his back to them was leaning over a huge, long table covered with velvet, seemingly examining something closely. Hearing the door open, the person turned around.

He looked to be around forty years old, thin, and wore a well-tailored but old-fashioned blue robe with intricate and mysterious runes embroidered in silver thread along the edges.

His face was lean and refined, with a scholarly serenity, but his deep brown eyes were exceptionally bright, as if containing stars. When his gaze swept across someone, it seemed to penetrate the surface and see something deeper. Most striking were his hands, with long, slender, and well-maintained fingers, which were now elegantly folded in front of him.

"Welcome, both of you." The collector's voice was gentle and pleasant, with a peculiar rhythm that made one unconsciously relax. His gaze lingered for a moment on Lux's stunning green hair, a barely concealed hint of inquiry flashing in his eyes.

He then turned to Holmes, his gentle smile unchanged. "A young lady and a weathered old man. The shopkeeper said, 'Would you like to see my opal necklace?'"

“Yes, sir.” Lux tried to make her voice sound both nervous and with the awe of a country boy meeting a great man. “It…it’s so beautiful…we want…we want to buy it.”

"Oh?" The collector smiled slightly, a smile that seemed to know everything yet was gentle and harmless. "That necklace certainly has a unique charm, but its value lies not only in its beauty."

He turned gracefully and took out a flat, exquisite ebony box inlaid with obsidian from under the velvet cloth.

When the box was opened, there was no dazzling light as expected. Instead, a necklace made of opals of uniform size with a soft, milky white hue like moonlight lay quietly on the black velvet.

Inside the opal, liquid seemed to flow slowly, refracting the green light of the fireplace and exuding a tranquil, mysterious, yet subtly ominous beauty. When Lux got close, she could even feel a faint but chilling magical fluctuation.

"Sixty-eight Galleons, the shop assistant told you that," the collector said gently, looking calmly at Lux.

Lux quickly handed over the money pouch. The collector took the pouch, didn't even look at it, and casually placed it in front of him. His gaze fell on Lux again, with a hint of unspoken meaning.

"However," the collector changed the subject, his voice even softer, as if sharing a secret, "if you only need its companionship temporarily, rather than owning it permanently, I can offer a small favor."

His long, slender fingers gently traced the edge of the ebony box. "You can take it away temporarily by paying a 'borrowing fee' of one Galleon. Of course, when you need to return it, simply send it back here."

"How about it? This might be a good option for young people who are short of money?" His smile remained gentle.

Lux and Holmes were both startled. Borrow? Only 1 Galleon?!

This perfectly matched Fenrir's requirements; it went too smoothly for the best.

Holmes's cloudy eyes, concealed by a cough, sharply caught the Collector's slight surprise upon seeing Lux. The Collector recognized Lux, but hadn't expected her here. Was he lying? Or did he have ulterior motives? Was the chain itself a trap?

"Really?!" Lux was so surprised that her green hair shook with excitement.

"Thank you so much, sir! We'll take it!" Without hesitation, she took back her purse, pulled out a Galleon from it, and handed it over.

The collector smiled as he accepted the Galleon, casually brushing his fingertip across the coin before slipping it into his sleeve.

He closed the ebony box containing the opal necklace and gently pushed it toward Lux. "Then, it's yours for now. May it meet your needs."

Lux carefully took the box, and the process went so smoothly that she wondered if the system had secretly activated it for her.

"Thank you again, generous sir!" Lux expressed her gratitude to the gentle collector, and she and Holmes quickly left the room filled with mystery and unease.

The heavy wooden door closed silently behind them, shutting out the dim green fire inside and the collector's gentle yet unfathomable gaze.

Inside the door, the green flame in the fireplace flickered, casting shifting light and shadow on the collector's serene profile.

He slowly walked to the fireplace, and facing the flames, calmly said in that strangely rhythmic voice, "They're gone, and the things have been lent out."

With a crackling sound, the flames twisted and contorted, and a figure slowly emerged and solidified from the leaping green flames—it was Albus Dumbledore.

He was wearing a black suit, and his reddish-brown hair and beard looked somewhat eerie in the green light. His usual gentle smile had vanished, replaced by an unprecedented seriousness and inquisitiveness.

"I see, Amon. It's been a long time since we last met, since you graduated from Ravenclaw." Dumbledore's voice came through the flames, tinged with seriousness. "I never imagined Miss Lux's unexpected journey would go so far."

The collector, or rather, Amon, nodded slightly, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes for Dumbledore. "Your eye remains as sharp as ever, Albus."

He paused, the runes in his deep brown eyes flashing slightly. "That girl, she does have the potential to learn ancient magic, but what's even stranger is that she seems to possess some kind of magic that I can't fully decipher."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly. "Unanalyzable magic..."

"Eamon, why do you think those werewolves wanted that dangerous necklace? Was it really on the orders of the Malachi Party?"

Amon walked to the window, his back to Dumbledore, his voice still calm and even: "Fenrir Greyback, an ambitious young man trying to consolidate the werewolf forces, who is rumored to have recently become very close to the Mughal Party."

"But he sent these two men merely to test us. That necklace... it's not important." He turned around, his gaze deep. "It has my improved tracking mark on it, more concealed and harder to detect than the crude tracking spells of the Aurors, Albus."

Dumbledore nodded knowingly. "So, all we need to do is go with the flow and use the necklace to find Fenrir, or even the Malay contact behind him?"

"To be precise, I want to confirm." Amon walked to the fireplace, gazing at the flickering green flames, the firelight reflected in his deep brown eyes.

"Grindelwald...has his gaze truly turned to London? Will the prophesied storm truly engulf Britain?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. "The storm has been brewing, Amon. I know that Grindelwald's ambitions have never been limited to the European continent. He seeks to overturn the entire world order."

He paused, his tone carrying a strange certainty, "As for whether he will target Britain next, pieces of evidence are piecing together, but the final picture is not yet fully revealed."

His gaze seemed to drift unintentionally in the direction Lux and Holmes had left.

"...Perhaps, it will be a result that surprises everyone."

"In my opinion, this might be a farce, and you seem to know something, otherwise you wouldn't let the students get involved in these dangerous things." Amon smiled at Dumbledore, who did not reply.