The room I stepped into was indeed a shop, but not one specialized in any particular type of magic. It seemed to have a little bit of everything — wands, portkeys, materials for enchanted paintings and portraits, charms, magical herbs, and ingredients.
It gave the impression that the owner dabbled in all kinds of magic and sold the results of these various experiments.
Quite an interesting person, this leprechaun girl had recommended. Then again, magical creatures have always been drawn to people who are… a little offbeat.
"Hah. I thought MacKillian's yelling had scared away all the customers," came a slightly raspy female voice, pulling me away from my observations of the room.
"Hm," I replied, turning to see the sorceress who had emerged to meet me.
"What are you here for?" asked a small girl, about thirteen years old… or thereabouts. She had an impressive mane of blonde hair down to her waist, wore some variation of a long shirt, thick tights, barely noticeable shoes, and a long, dark purple cloak over it all. Her outfit was topped off with a large witch's hat that vaguely resembled the Sorting Hat.
"Ahem," I cleared my throat. "My name is Adalbert Stahlwolf. Elga recommended your shop as the best place to buy a Portkey."
"Ahh… I see. She's always had a soft spot for pretty faces and good manners," the girl muttered as she tucked some plant and bird feathers — likely from the local magical version of a peacock — into one of the shelves. "Where do you need to go?"
"To the northern tip of the island… or close to it," I said, grimacing internally at the vague directions and offering a slightly apologetic tone. "If necessary, I can show you on a map — I have one with me."
"No need. I've been to many places in Ireland, I know where you want to go," she said with a shrug. This young sorceress, clearly older than she appeared, likely had plenty of experience. She might even have magical ancestry of some sort. "Why are you headed there?"
"I see now why you have so few customers. You're… inquisitive," I replied with a slight smirk, crossing my arms.
"If a wizard isn't curious, then they're just a Muggle with a wand, accidentally able to use magic," the girl scoffed with a touch of the arrogance I was starting to recognize. "And I couldn't care less about this shop. What kind of sorceress would I be if I couldn't make or obtain everything I need myself?"
"Interesting stance. Both your first point and your second," I responded, folding my hands behind my back.
I was starting to like this place. There was a certain spontaneity and lightness here, a kind of free-spiritedness absent in the serious atmosphere of Durmstrang and the rigid relationships of purebloods… I already know what I'll do in my old age. I'll fulfill my duty as a pureblood, leave the family to the next generation, and wander around magical places like this.
"You're interesting too, I won't deny it," the girl said as her brown eyes paused their rummaging to size me up. "I've got the Portkey you need. But I want to come with you."
"With me?" My eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Yes. I won't even ask for payment. Or you can go to that old screamer, MacKillian. He probably only has Portkeys to Belfast, if he has anything at all." She twisted her lips into a mocking smile.
"Hah… Little blackmailer," I said, dropping any pretense of politeness.
"So, what'll it be?"
"Give me a couple of minutes, then I'll give you an answer." I waved her off, stepping out of the shop and walking about ten meters away from the building and the nearest people.
After looking around to make sure no one was watching, I grabbed the communication amulet and sent a bit of magic through it. In Muggle terms, I had just dialed the other number (the only one) and was waiting for a response.
"What do you want?" The voice came through. Apparently, witches, no matter their age, didn't care much for niceties.
"An interesting situation has come up, rather peculiar…" I said, and quickly recounted my conversation from half a minute ago.
"Boy, I don't care. Just don't mention me directly, and don't lose the sword. I couldn't care less how you achieve your goal, even if it involves committing genocide. Now stop bothering me. I'm busy." The voice sounded slightly irritated, and then, without saying goodbye, she cut off the connection.
"...Well?" The sorceress in the shop, who had been waiting for me patiently, didn't seem to be embodying patience anymore.
"I'm not opposed," I said, immediately brightening her mood. "But let me ask — why do you want to go with me if you could go on your own?"
"I don't like the place, to be honest," Vinnie admitted right away. "It's quite possible that it's cursed. And while I might be capable of many things, I'm not what you'd call a strong sorceress. But I do want to visit the place. Better to do it in someone else's company than stick my neck out alone. And I can't afford mercenaries." She spread her hands, shrugging.
"Well, I suspected it wasn't going to be that simple…" I muttered. "If you need anything, grab it now. Let's not waste time."
"One minute. I'll take a few things to save my skin, and I'll be right back." She waved her hand and dashed deeper into the shop, and judging by the footsteps, disappeared down to the basement.
The worst part of this situation is that I have no idea what's waiting for me there. Even though I remember most of the magical creatures of Ireland, my instincts tell me trouble's coming.
Ugh, I once promised myself I wouldn't go looking for trouble like Potter did… At least I'm doing it for a reward and partly to repay a debt, not to save someone or something. That's the only thing justifying me right now, yes.
"You still here?" The girl's voice called out, apparently from the stairs as she came back up.
"Where else would I go?" I replied, raising my voice a little.
"All set." She gave her head and impressive mane of hair a shake, her locks even more striking than Edelfelt's. The young sorceress extended her hand to me. "Grab on, and let's go."
A second later, the space around us began to spin wildly, and all I could do was hope my stomach would hold up.