Knockturn Alley. Borgin & Burkes. Despite the Christmas holiday, foot traffic remained steady—black‑market dealings didn't pause for festivities.
Mr. Borgin leaned back on a stool behind the counter, idly sliding ten Galleons one by one through his fingers. The metallic clink brought him genuine pleasure.
Suddenly, the familiar vine-emblazoned door swung open. Mr. Borgin sprang up—only one person in the entire Wizarding World made an entrance like that.
"Oh, my dear Mr. Dantes! You're here again!" Mr. Borgin greeted him warmly. "The information you requested won't be found so easily. But beyond that—can old Borgin do anything else for you?"
In truth, after Dana failed to pay the deposit, Borgin had lost interest in his affairs. He figured the deal was dead.
Dana strode to the counter and asked directly, "I want to acquire some properties. Do you have any connections?"
"Properties? What kind?"
"Any kind: dragon farms, magical creature sanctuaries, herb gardens…"
Mr. Borgin's eyes gleamed. This Mr. Dantes truly was a money tree. If he arranged purchases for him, the commission would be enormous.
"Of course! But such ventures are always profitable—and quite expensive. I'm not doubting your resources, but even a modest herb garden of a few dozen acres would cost tens of thousands of Galleons. If I contact people on your behalf prematurely…"
Dana waved his hand. A small, ornate box appeared on the counter. It was so heavy the counter sagged by two centimeters. Dana opened it, revealing stacks of gold coins.
Mr. Borgin's breath caught.
He recognized them: magical gold coins from the King Arthur era—recently speculated to be worth 120 Galleons each—now shown in a small box.
Even a rough estimate would be tens of thousands of them.
"Is that enough?"
"Enough, enough!" Mr. Borgin stumbled over his words. Even at 100 Galleons apiece, this box held nearly ten million Galleons in wealth—enough to purchase the assets of most pure‑blood families.
What Borgin didn't know was that Dana had over forty such boxes prepared—and this was the smallest.
"Then we can proceed?" Dana asked.
"Absolutely! Dragon farms, breeding grounds, magical nurseries, potion labs, alchemical workshops—any type of property. I can find them."
Dana nodded again. "I heard the last heir of the Black family is incarcerated in Azkaban. What has become of their properties?"
Mr. Borgin paused thoughtfully. "The Malfoys are managing them at present."
Dana pressed further. "With Sirius Black convicted and unlikely to be released—perhaps dying in prison—how will the Black inheritance be handled? Will the Ministry auction it off?"
Mr. Borgin nodded. "No, it'll mostly go to the Malfoys. Mrs. Malfoy was born a Black—legally, she inherits."
Dana waved his hand. "Good. Prioritize acquiring properties originally belonging to the Blacks—including real estate. I believe Lucius Malfoy won't mind, so long as the price is right."
"Of course, of course!" Borgin replied enthusiastically. "There have been rumors—he's been managing the Blacks' holdings. But if they're sold quietly, people will forget. Malfoy will decide wisely."
"Excellent," Dana said. "I'll leave it to you. I don't mind how much commission you earn—but I want results."
"Certainly, sir!" Borgin's grin deepened. "Your goals are my goals. I swear by Merlin, I'll deliver everything you desire."
Though he was both a legal and illicit trader, widely traveled, Borgin had never seen so much wealth. Even as a member of the Borgin family, he was astounded that Dana could produce such a box of gold coins casually—and without counting them.
This man's background—and the power behind him—were astounding. Not to mention, Dana was ruthless and capable in combat. Borgin still remembered the Knockturn Alley demon incident.
He'd moved beyond deciding whether to befriend Dana. Borgin worried that even if he grovelled, others might not choose to deal with someone of Dana's stature.
But Dana had chosen him to secure major assets. In Borgin's mind, his family's grave must be smoking with heavenly luck.
"If there's any news, contact me via two‑way mirror after eight in the evening. I'll be busy during the day."
"Yes, sir!" Borgin replied.
Dana turned and exited Borgin & Burkes, stretching his neck. He recalled that someone important had once taken even minor roles in this shop. Now, Borgin was doing his bidding.
So, Tom—if you're poor, don't become a Dark Lord, right?
Baker Street 26½
Wang Wenhui and his sister Wang Shujing sat in their cramped living room.
"Sister! Hear me out: dump that Huo Jin outside St. Mungo's!"
"What rubbish are you talking about?"
"Don't you see? Mr. Dantes is who you can trust!"
"Wenhui, don't you dare. I won't give up on Huo Jin!"
"You blockhead!" Wenhui retorted. "I saw you almost stripping that day. Don't tell me you have no feelings for Mr. Dantes?"
Shujing's cheeks flushed. She had acted on impulse—an attempt to secure favor from a wealthy client—and her brother had seen through her motives.
"If my family weren't so poor," she said quietly, "I wouldn't have done that."
"But I still won't give up on Huo Jin!"
They argued when suddenly thick green vines sprouted from the center of the living room floor.
"Shujing, you always nag me about cleanliness," Wenhui exclaimed, "but how clean is this place, huh? Look—grass is growing inside!"
They stared at the spreading vines and blades of grass.
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