The village of Hogsmeade looked a completely different place after 7 pm, the exact time after which the curfew for the students at Hogwarts began.
The locals closed their candy shops and their joke shops and gathered in droves inside the only two pubs in the Village.
They stop minding their words so much and start cussing to their heart's content, letting out all the things that they had to keep repressed around children.
But while some people liked to meet up with their friends and drink in the middle of a rowdy crowd there were others who liked to sit in their homes in front of their fireplaces with their favourite book in their hands and drink their firewhisky in solitude.
That is why for these people there was a third shop in this village where anyone could go and buy alcohol as a take-away and at a far cheaper price than it was available at the inns.
The shop was situated in an out-of-the-way alley down the high street, and the different thing about this shop was that—unlike others which opened during the day and closed late at night, this one only opened after the sun went down which meant that not many students even knew about its existence.
But today... a student has somehow managed to reach its front doors and was hiding in the shadows waiting for its doors to open.
"Are you sure this is it?" Ron whispered in a sceptical voice while looking at the shop across the street.
It was a small two-story comely cottage with a shop on the ground floor and a house on the second. This shop looked like every other candy shop in Hogsmeade except for the fact that shelves behind the see-through mirrors were empty as if the shopkeeper didn't want to show what he was selling.
"Of course." came Sirius's voice out of Ron's front pocket, where he had placed the mirror so that it was out of sight but they could still talk in low voices, "This is a well-known shop and has been famous among the locals since the village was first established. In fact, a century ago it was a shop that used to stay open in broad daylight, but then a few too many students were caught sneaking alcohol into Hogwarts and the Headmaster at that time became furious with it and talked the owner into only opening after Hogwarts gates closed..."
"Oh..." Ron said nodding slowly at the impromptu history lesson by Sirius.
"Yeah, so don't worry. This family has been making their alcohol for a long time and their potion recipe is famous—"
"Wait! What?" Ron suddenly interrupted in a bewildered voice, "They've been making—Do you mean to say that Fire whisky is like a potion and is made in a... potion lab?"
"Of course, it is a potion. Where else did you think it was made... In a factory?"
"No, I just..."
"Don't you know that alcohol is the main reason that Potion Masters are all so wealthy? Or did you think that they earned their keep from Pepper-ups that any fifth-year could make?"
"No... I just never knew..." Ron let out in a shocked voice as if a whole new world had been opened up to him. If there was a chance for him to get a recipe like that in the future and if he became a good potioneer then maybe he could become... rich.
"Look! The door's opening!" Sirius clamoured as he saw the door open through the basic see-through charm that he had taught Ron and made him apply on the outside of the pocket, "It's time for you to go in. Are you ready?"
"Yes," Ron immediately nodded his head before he took his wand out of his pocket and pressed it against his throat to apply the voice-changing charm, "Check! Check! OK It's working," he said in a deep grown-up voice making him feel a bit weird.
"Good. Now remember to speak confidently and act like you belong there, alright." Sirius instructed as if he were a handler sending his agent on a spy mission, "And what are you going to ask for when you go in there?"
"Um...Two bottles of Fire whisky and a vial of Soulfreeze," Ron replied before a confused look appeared on his face, "But what is this Soul freeze, I've never heard about it. Is it any good?"
"Oh, It is the best, believe me," Sirius replied in a very smug tone. A tone that would immediately send chills down the back of anyone who knew Sirius and send prank alarms ringing in their head, but unfortunately for Ron Remus wasn't here so... "Mixing a little bit of Soulfreeze in a glass of Fire whisky is the best way to drink it. Trust me."
"Really? But I've never—"
"Hurry, now. Don't dilly dally." Sirius abruptly urged, "Go in before any of the other customers arrive and complicates the situation."
"Oh, right." Ron nodded his head and then after taking another deep breath, he crossed the street to the shop and went inside.
"Welcome! What can I do for you?" the shopkeeper droned in a lazy voice without looking up from the evening prophet he was reading from his seat behind the counter.
"I need two bottles of Fire whisky and a vial of Soulfreeze," Ron immediately replied in a deep tone.
"Sure coming right—" The shopkeeper immediately froze when he finally looked up from his newspaper and saw the customer covered from head to toe in a dark cloak that showed not an inch of his skin.
A suspicious look appeared in the Shopkeeper's eyes as he began to scrutinize Ron as if trying to see beneath his hood.
"Is there a problem?" Ron asked in a calm voice that felt a little forced.
"N-No... Nothing," The man shook his head after a few seconds, thinking that he was just being too paranoid. He then got up and went to the shelf behind him to bring the required bottles. "You're buying Soulfreeze, so I am sure you know how to use it accurately."
"Of course, I do," Ron replied in a tone of false bravado but inside he was a little confused about what the shopkeeper meant. Was there another way of using it aside from mixing it with fire whisky as Sirius had told him... He then shook his head, deciding to leave it for later, "Anyway how much is it?"
"That'll be seven galleon—" The man began to say before he abruptly realised something, "Wait! You don't know how much these costs?" he asked in a doubtful tone as the suspicion in his eyes deepened.
"That's because... I-I don't drink," Ron said in a somewhat flustered tone, "I am buying these for a friend... as a gift."
"Really?" he asked as his eyes slowly narrowed and flicked towards the Daily Prophet on the counter where the front page was showing the moving images of the recently caught Death Eaters who were awaiting their trials and retrials. His eyes struggled with indecision for a moment before they firmed up with resolve, "Show me your face." he commanded as his hands slowly and sneakily began moving towards the counter.
"What? Why?!"
"Why?" The man scoffed in a hostile tone, "Because you're being too bloody suspicious and I need to know that I am not selling my shit to the wrong sort. So prove to me that you're not a Death Eater."
"I'm not," he said in a somewhat panicked tone as things began to go sideways.
"Then just show me your face?" he barked inching closer and closer to the drawer below the counter.
"I can't!"
"Why not?"
"Because I-I..."
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