Alex chuckled. "Caught up with life, I guess. This is the first chance I've had to come back. Looks like business is booming."
"It's thanks to you. The menu you gave me has been a big hit! Maybe you should think about opening your own bar in the future." Tom grinned as he poured a large glass of Butterbeer and slid it across the counter to Alex.
The two long-lost friends were finally reunited, and the conversation flowed naturally. They talked about everything, from old memories to the changes in the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley over the past two years.
Tom explained how, after the mysterious Dark Lord disappeared, wizards who had been in hiding came out in droves to celebrate. Parties and revelry filled the streets, and for a while, Tom's bar was packed to capacity every night. Business boomed, and it seemed like things were looking up.
But this is not always the case. Unrestrained Death Eaters emerged from the shadows, causing havoc. Many were wanted criminals, acting recklessly as they fled from capture. Some were outright lunatics. The chaos grew worse, and Diagon Alley was even placed under martial law at one point.
However, under the sharp leadership of Millicent Bagnold, the Ministry of Magic responded swiftly. Frequent raids and arrests brought many Death Eaters to justice. The riots were subdued, and those who weren't captured went into hiding or used their influence to escape punishment. About six months ago, calm returned to Diagon Alley, and the wizarding world slowly regained its footing.
"By the way," Alex leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, "have you noticed any suspicious characters in Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley recently? Dark wizards, perhaps?"
"Dark wizards?" Tom raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "You mean Death Eaters?" He thought for a moment before replying, "Diagon Alley is covered in wanted posters for Death Eaters. The smart ones are keeping their heads down. As for Knockturn Alley, I don't know much. That place is... complicated. Most folks who go there don't come through here. They usually travel through Borgin and Burkes' fireplace."
Alex nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing on his lips. "I see. Just curious. Anyway, thanks for the chat. I'll catch up with you properly another time. I need to pick up a few things in Diagon Alley."
He waved goodbye, weaving his way through the bar's bustling hall toward the back courtyard. Tom watched him leave, a mix of emotions on his face. Alex had changed over the past two years—his demeanor, the way he spoke, even the way he carried himself. Something felt... off, though Tom couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Alex stepped into the courtyard, skillfully tapping the bricks to open the passage to Diagon Alley. As the archway unfolded, he was greeted by a lively scene, a stark contrast to the near-deserted streets he remembered from three years ago. The cobblestone streets bustled with activity. Wizards and witches of all ages wandered between shops, some setting up temporary stalls along the sides of the street. The air was thick with the sounds of bartering, laughter, and the occasional burst of magic.
"So, this is what peace looks like," Alex muttered to himself, scanning the area with a faint smile. He moved toward the edge of the street and pulled out a compass-like device from his pocket. The polished brass surface gleamed in the sunlight as he examined it closely.
"If the readings are correct, Yaxley should be here somewhere," he murmured. "For him to remain hidden, he must have protection—either his family's influence or a network of other Death Eaters. Either way, this will be worth my while."
A smirk tugged at his lips as he remembered the fight before Christmas. During that encounter, he had secretly planted several soft, needle-thin magical trackers in Yaxley's belongings—his shoes, belt, clothes, even his underwear. The location was now displayed through Alex's monocle, a artifact that synchronized with the trackers, projecting the direction and approximate distance to the target with faint, glowing symbols overlaying his vision.
Pulling on a dark cloak to obscure his face, Alex slipped into a less crowded alley and followed the device's guidance. His path took him past Gringotts and further north, until he arrived at a three-story stone building. It stood slightly apart from its neighbors, separated by narrow alleyways on both sides. There were no signs or storefronts—nothing to suggest it was a business or shop. The lack of any markings made it seem more like a private residence.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Odd place for a home," he muttered, observing the building's prime location on one of Diagon Alley's main streets. This wasn't the bustling front half of the alley, but it wasn't cheap real estate either. Any normal commercial business would likely pick a less central, more affordable location. "Private property, maybe? A family estate?" Alex mused. But something about it didn't sit right. The house was quiet—too quiet.
The pointer remained fixed on the building, no matter where Alex moved. He tested the signal from the alley to the left and again from the right; the direction never wavered. "This has to be it." He glanced at the sealed front door. "But rushing in would be reckless. Let's gather some intel first."
Choosing several vantage points around the building, Alex began a thorough surveillance. Across the street stood the Sparkflint & Co, known for producing Floo powder, its gates firmly shut for the evening. To one side of the building was the The Enchanted Kettle, bustling with customers, while the other side was flanked by Gringotts.
Through the café window of Diagon Alley, Alex spotted an acquaintance: Emmeline Vance. She sat by the window, leisurely sipping coffee, her gaze occasionally drifting sideways toward a house tucked away across the street. It was Yaxley's house. 'Oh? The Aurors or maybe the Order of the Phoenix have their eyes on him too. Looks like my deductions that day weren't far off. Has Dumbledore also started following this trail? Could he be trying to connect the dots?'
Alex adjusted his cloak, pulling it tighter to conceal his face. 'But why don't they just barge in and make an arrest? What's so special about this Yaxley that they're being so cautious?'
He mulled it over, but his lack of information frustrated him. Clearly, he needed to dig deeper, but directly snooping around the house wasn't an option. Emmeline's presence at the café ruled out any chance of subtle observation, leaving him with one alternative: the adjoining beauty pharmacy. Decision made, Alex strode purposefully across the street and pushed open the door to Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions .