Chapter 871: Death Eaters' Plan
Chapter 871: Death Eaters' Plan
"If I were to take out this quill at Hogwarts, I'd probably garner quite a few envious stares."
Unknowingly influenced by Narcissa, Draco Malfoy stared at the thunderbird quill, lost in thought.
Unconsciously, he thought of a certain scarred boy who possessed a crossbow.
The crossbow was readily available for purchase in a shop window, but the thunderbird quill was different. Such items had been banned, and even with his new wealthy godfather, that scarred boy wouldn't be able to get his hands on one.
Nor would his sidekick Weasley, ever in his wildest dreams.
No, that's not right.
Draco shook his head, suddenly realizing that he had been expelled and was unlikely to encounter that scarred boy and his gang again. If they ever crossed paths, it would only be on the battlefield.
Good... He truly hoped that day would come sooner rather than later, so he could finally do something he had been longing to do... to torture him to his heart's content.
"There's nothing of interest here. Let's go back." Draco said disinterestedly.
"Okay." Narcissa naturally had no objections and reached out to take the thunderbird quill.
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"Don't you want to buy it?" Narcissa asked.
"No." Draco blurted out, "Why would I spend money on something I can't use?"
"It could always come in handy." Narcissa paused for a moment, "Even if it's just for writing..."
"Whatever." For some reason, Draco didn't object further. He took the quill and silently walked towards the counter.
"How much is it?"
"Thirty galleons." Kyle smiled.
"What?" Draco raised his voice, "Thirty galleons, are you insane? It's just a quill! Even the best quills made from crone birds in the Writer's Nook only cost one galleon."
"This is made from a thunderbird feather." Kyle reminded him, "Even if you sold it to an alchemist, it would fetch twenty galleons."
"That still leaves ten galleons."
"Craftsmanship." Kyle said calmly, "This quill is handcrafted using a century-old technique, completely unlike the mass-produced ones in the market. Only this can be considered a symbol of status."
"Madam..." Kyle turned to Narcissa and said indifferently, "I believe you can tell the difference."
Narcissa raised an eyebrow.
Could she? No, she couldn't, because who would bother to care about the craftsmanship of a quill?
And she also felt that thirty galleons for a quill was a bit excessive.
But thinking of Draco's dazed expression as he stared at the quill earlier, she cleared her throat.
"The craftsmanship... well, it's passable. We'll take it."
"Mom?" Draco turned to her, shocked.
The Malfoys were wealthy, but spending thirty galleons on a quill was a bit much, even for Draco.
While a thunderbird feather was indeed worth twenty galleons, that only applied to the finest few feathers from its wings. Not every feather was that expensive, and moreover, it wouldn't fetch such a high price once crafted into a quill.
Also, he felt like he had heard the shop owner's voice somewhere before, but he just couldn't place it at the moment.
"It's fine, Draco. It's just thirty galleons." Narcissa picked up a coral ornament and arrogantly said, "Add this as well. How much for both?"
"Two hundred galleons." Kyle smiled. As Narcissa paid, he subtly flicked a small piece of parchment into Draco's pocket with his finger.
"Business can't be that good here." Draco said scornfully, not noticing Kyle's action.
He still couldn't accept the idea of a thirty-galleon quill.
Perhaps he would have bought it a few years ago, but only before his third year... Now he'd rather spend the money on a pure gold quill, which still wouldn't cost thirty galleons.
In response to Draco's sarcasm, Kyle merely smiled without saying a word.
Narcissa, however, gently patted his shoulder.
"Don't say that, Draco." She poured a pile of galleons onto the table and gave a mysterious smile, "We should admire the shop owner's courage and boldness instead."
"We'll be back."
"Looking forward to your next visit, madam."
Kyle smiled and saw Narcissa and Draco out of the shop, then turned back to collect the two hundred galleons from the table.
It had to be the Malfoys; while their spending wasn't as extravagant as he had imagined, two hundred galleons was still a substantial sum, more than what most shops earned in a month.
But that wasn't the most important thing. What was crucial was that Kyle had obtained a secret piece of information from Draco.
Lucius Malfoy seemed to be planning a trip to Cornwall with Bartemius Crouch Jr. and others, and he had been asked to bring a large sum of galleons.
Now, that was intriguing. What were the Death Eaters up to in Cornwall, of all places? Surely it wasn't to address the housing issues of vagrant wizards there.
Cornwall, situated at the southwestern tip of Britain, was surrounded by the sea on three sides. Its unique geographical location, coupled with its distance from the Ministry of Magic, attracted many wizards who preferred the road less traveled or had their own hidden agendas.
Cornwall was indeed an intriguing choice for the Death Eaters. Eighty percent of the wizards there were on the wanted list, and the remaining nineteen percent had yet to be discovered.
These wizards were experts at hiding, and their long history of evading the Aurors meant they always managed to escape capture, leaving the Ministry of Magic helpless.
Fortunately, the local wizards had become tough and assertive, and their methods were just as ruthless, if not more so, creating a delicate balance between the two groups.
It was similar to the relationship between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley—coexisting in the same area but clearly distinct. Each group minded their own business, and while there were occasional scuffles, most of the time, they left each other alone.
The Death Eaters must have had a specific reason for targeting this place.
Were they recruiting?
It was possible. They had just lost a batch of followers, so they would naturally want to replenish their numbers, and the 'Knockturn Alley' there would provide a perfect ground for that. This could also explain why they brought galleons with them.
Voldemort's name certainly carried weight and influence in Britain, and it did have some reach in neighboring countries. But not everyone was intimidated by it, especially foreign wizards. To them, gold galleons were a more tangible incentive.
Kyle tapped the table lightly, contemplating whether he should go and check it out. To be honest, he was quite curious about Cornwall and wanted to see it for himself. Even if he couldn't stop the Death Eaters' plot, bringing back some local specialties wouldn't be a bad idea.
Cornish pixies were quite famous in the wizarding world. Those troublesome little creatures might not have much attacking power, but they were experts at causing chaos.
"Mister..."
Just as Kyle was hesitating, Dobby cautiously entered the room, nervously observing his surroundings. It was only after he confirmed that Narcissa and Malfoy were truly gone that he breathed a sigh of relief.
It was clear that he hadn't recovered from the earlier scare.
"Don't worry, Dobby. You're a free house-elf now," Kyle said, glancing at him. "Even if they had recognized you, which they didn't, you wouldn't have anything to worry about with me here."
"Yes, Dobby is a... free elf," Dobby straightened his chest and walked over with his head held high.
Kyle looked at the space behind him and said seriously,
"Oh, Lady Narcissa, what a pleasure it is to see you again."
Dobby's legs turned soft, and he fell to the ground with a thud.
Almost instinctively, Dobby scrambled to his feet and turned around, stammering, "Welcome... Welcome... Um?"
When he stiffly lifted his head, he found himself facing an empty room and an equally empty street outside, with not a soul in sight.
"Dobby, you still need some time to adjust," Kyle couldn't help but laugh. "I should've kept you here earlier, then you would've realized that they aren't as scary as you imagine."
"Dobby is not afraid of them," the elf said stubbornly.
Kyle shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
While Dobby was an unusual house-elf, some things were not so easily changed.
There was no need to rush, though. Slowly but surely, one day, Dobby would be able to face the Malfoys calmly.
The first step...
"Dobby, the next time Malfoy comes, I want you to attend to him again," Kyle said casually. "Remember, no matter what he buys, increase the price by at least thirty percent. Of course, you can add more if you like, and whatever the final amount is, it will be your commission."
"No, no..." Dobby's legs turned even softer at the mention of a commission. It wasn't because of Malfoy, but the idea of a commission itself.
Dobby was all too familiar with the prices of these items. Ten galleons to start, fifty galleons was common, and there were plenty that went for a hundred galleons. Even a tenth of that would be too much for him—so much that he wouldn't dare to take it.
Dobby loved his current life. He wanted a salary, but he also wanted to enjoy the process and was afraid that asking for too much would get him kicked out.
He didn't want to be sent away.
When he worked for Newt, if not for Tina's insistence, he would have asked for only one galleon a week.
"Don't worry, trust me," Kyle said, looking at Dobby, his voice carrying a hint of persuasion. "Just once, sell something to Malfoy at double the price. After that, you won't be afraid of him anymore."
Dobby still shook his head, mumbling, "That... that doesn't feel right, Mister."
"It's not right, but if we don't get caught, it's fine," Kyle smiled and took out two galleons, handing them to Dobby. "Almost forgot, this is your commission for this time."
"Don't refuse. A free house-elf must take a commission," he added.
Dobby, who had been about to shake his head again, walked over and took the two heavy galleons.
"That's the spirit," Kyle nodded with a smile. "I'm not like those shameless headmasters at Hogwarts."
Hogwarts headmasters, shameless?
Dobby was confused, not understanding what that meant.
But Kyle didn't explain further. He stood up and said, "I'll be going out for a while. The shop is in your hands now. Whether there are customers or not doesn't matter. Take the commission... As for Mr. Scamander, I'll talk to him myself."
"Okay, Mister," Dobby said.
With that, Kyle left the shop.
According to Draco Malfoy's memory, Lucius and Bartemius Crouch Jr. would be departing for Cornwall the next day, but he didn't know the specific route or time.
However, that wasn't a problem; he could find professionals who did.
Kyle arrived at the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and threw it into the flames, shouting, "Ministry of Magic!"
...
"Kyle, what are you doing here?" Arthur Weasley, the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, looked at the suddenly appearing Kyle in surprise. "I thought Chris said you were on a trip to France?"
"That's right," Kyle said, "But I came back because of something that came up."
"Never mind that." Kyle waved his hand dismissively. "Mr. Weasley, I want to know about the Death Eaters' recent movements."
"Death Eaters..." Mr. Weasley's face immediately turned serious as he quickly walked to the door, poked his head out to look around, and then closed the door.
"Why do you ask about this suddenly?"
"I've learned that they might be planning something big in Cornwall soon," Kyle said.
"Cornwall...?" Mr. Weasley frowned slightly. "Are you sure?"
"About seventy percent sure," Kyle said after a moment's thought.
After all, the information came from Draco, a peripheral figure in the Death Eaters, and he really couldn't be certain of its accuracy.
"Where did you get this information?"
"Well, from a Death Eater who doesn't want to be completely ruined," Kyle said, "But whether to reveal his name or not is up to Professor Dumbledore."
"Professor Dumbledore? I see." Hearing this name, Mr. Weasley nodded in understanding. "So, he's the one who sent you here?"
"Um... sort of." Kyle nodded vaguely.
Dumbledore and Ariana had allowed him to act freely, so in a sense, it wasn't entirely inaccurate to say that...
"If you're asking about the Death Eaters' recent activities, I only know a rough idea. Alastor would have the most up-to-date information." Mr. Weasley didn't doubt Kyle's words and placed a top-like spyglass on the table before lowering his voice.
"All I know is that he's been tracking and monitoring Maben and Gillman, heading south."
"Maben? Gillman?"
"They're also Death Eaters." Mr. Weasley explained, "They were Death Eaters from over a decade ago who slipped through the net and avoided trial. Recently, they rejoined the fold under the Dark Lord's command."
"Alastor has been tailing them and obtained quite a bit of information, but his personality ensures he won't share too much with us, so we're in the dark about the specifics."
"Do you know where he went?"
"Not exactly, but..." Mr. Weasley suddenly paused, "Kyle, you're not planning to go after the Death Eaters, are you?"
"How could I...?" Kyle waved his hand dismissively. "It's my vacation time now, and I plan to continue my trip to France after delivering this message."
"That's good to hear." Only then did Mr. Weasley continue, "Whirlpool Lighthouse. That's the message Alastor sent back. We had thought their target was Devon."
...
The next day was sunny, and the morning breeze carried a hint of briny freshness.
By the seaside cliffs stood an old, faded lighthouse, and two figures dressed in black hoods stood at its base, anxiously awaiting something.
Before long, there was a ripple in the air, and several similarly dressed individuals appeared out of thin air nearby.
"Maben." The leader's voice was deep. "How did it go?"
"Rest assured, Barty. Gillman is leading that Auror on a wild goose chase in Devon. Those pests from the Order of the Phoenix would never guess that our true target is the group of wizards in Cornwall."
"Good... That's what I like to hear." The hood was pulled back, revealing a young but extremely pale face.
As he spoke, he kept sticking out his tongue, looking like a snake about to strike.
However, a wizard sticking out his tongue not only looked odd but was also quite disgusting.
Yet, everyone present acted as if it were perfectly normal, and even if someone found it strange, they dared not show it.
"Maben, you've disappointed the Dark Lord once before." Bartemius Crouch Jr. stared at the Death Eater called Maben. "I trust you won't disappoint him a second time, will you?"
"Of course not, absolutely not." Maben wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Then let's go." Bartemius said.
Two Death Eaters immediately stepped forward, pointed their wands at the lighthouse, and cast a spell.
It was unclear what they did, but the lighthouse suddenly split open, revealing a deep, dark passage below.
Bartemius was the first to enter, followed by Maben and the other Death Eaters.
As the last Death Eater stepped into the passage, a shallow footprint appeared behind him, but his attention was focused on the dark tunnel ahead, and he didn't notice it.
The passage then closed, and the lighthouse returned to its original state.
(End of Chapter)
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