Hogwarts Potion Shop

New York, The Bronx, Arthur Avenue.

This was the most Italian-flavored avenue in the United States, a charming boulevard that combined tourism, leisure, food, and more.

During the day, it was bustling with activity, with a steady stream of tourists and gourmands.

Some were drawn by the captivating scenery, while others came specifically to taste authentic Italian cuisine.

Laughter filled the streets and alleyways, mingling with the chatter of passersby and the cries of vendors to create a lively, prosperous scene.

Yet as night fell and the shops closed one after another, their lights going out,

the once-noisy street gradually fell quiet.

Only the rows of streetlamps standing by the roadside cast their dim glow, as though even their light was weary as it struggled to illuminate the area.

The entire street sank into darkness, shrouded in a veil of mystery.

Only the apartments in the high-rises lit up one after another, like scattered stars bringing a little warmth and life to the darkness.

Buildings No. 6 and No. 8 on Arthur Avenue had originally stood closely connected.

At some point, a small house had suddenly appeared on the street.

Its number read Arthur Avenue No. 7, and both the abruptly appearing house and the number on its plaque looked especially out of place.

A sign hung prominently above the little house, bearing the words "Hogwarts Potion Shop."

In the dim surroundings, the shop's sign gave off a mysterious and strange aura.

The people monitoring the place at all times immediately began making calls.

"Boss, the potion shop has opened for business."

"Good work. I'll be right there."

"BOSS!"

"Mm, I understand."

"Sir, the target has appeared."

"I'll be right there."

In less than ten minutes, several luxury cars raced onto the street.

The shriek of brakes shattered the nighttime silence, and smoke from tires scraping against the pavement filled the air.

A group of people, all either wealthy or influential, stepped out of the cars.

"Ms. Carl, I didn't expect you to be here too."

A bearded man greeted her warmly.

"Stephen, your sources are quite well-informed."

Carl replied with a smile, though there was a hint of scrutiny in her gaze.

The two embraced like old friends, yet each harbored her own thoughts.

"You people are really tight-lipped. You didn't even tell me about something this good."

Stephen complained, her face filled with dissatisfaction.

"Stephen, even if you can command the wind and rain on Wall Street, you only got rich overnight."

Carl's tone seemed to mock Stephen's wealth for coming too easily, without any real foundation.

Stephen could barely save face and was about to retort when—

"Vroom—"

"Vroom—"

The roar of an engine suddenly rang out, its powerful sound waves hammering against everyone's eardrums.

A silver Audi R8 sped around the corner, its body gleaming brilliantly beneath the streetlights.

The license plate bore the cursive words Tony Stark, making it particularly eye-catching.

"This is trouble. Why is that playboy here too?" someone muttered under their breath.

Tony Stark stepped out of the car with effortless flair, every movement radiating confidence and defiance.

He walked around to the other side of the car, gently opened the door, and bent down like a gentleman.

A tall blonde woman stepped out from the passenger seat, her skirt fluttering in the wind like a star stepping out of a movie scene.

"Tony, where are we?" Pepper Potts asked in confusion, her beautiful eyes curiously examining the surroundings.

"Pepper, this is a good place. It just happens to be your birthday today. Sure enough, I always have good luck when I'm with you." Tony Stark wore a confident smile, his eyes full of tenderness.

Pepper Potts was somewhat displeased. "Today is my birthday. I wanted to see a Broadway show, not come to a place like this." There was a trace of complaint in her voice.

Tony Stark swiftly wrapped an arm around Pepper Potts's waist, the gesture practiced and natural.

Pepper Potts tried to break free, a faint flush rising to her face.

"With so many people here, give your boss some face," Tony Stark said with a playful wink. "Don't embarrass me."

Only then did Pepper Potts notice that many people had already gathered around them. Every one of them was someone important.

They were practically all prominent figures who only appeared on television, making her even more confused.

"What is going on? What exactly is this place?" Pepper Potts asked again.

"Se~cret~" Tony Stark deliberately kept her in suspense, a mysterious smile appearing on his face.

Happy Hogan was a burly, bearded man who looked quite intimidating.

He was Tony Stark's bodyguard and driver.

He carried a case in his hand, and Happy's flushed cheeks made it clear that whatever was inside was very heavy.

Tony Stark snapped his fingers with flair.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Then, with a gentle yet possessive arm around Pepper's slender waist, he headed toward the mysterious little shop with a confident smile and unhurried steps.

At the same time, the others began moving as well.

Among them was a man with a slightly receding hairline. Focus and caution filled his eyes as he appeared to be making a tense report to his superior through an earpiece.

"Sir, they're all about to enter that magical potion shop."

His voice was low, but the urgency in it was impossible to conceal.

"Follow them in, Phil." A calm, decisive command came through the earpiece.

"Yes, sir," Phil Coulson replied quickly. "But we might come back empty-handed today."

His brow furrowed slightly, his face full of helplessness. "The poorest people here tonight are billionaires. The funds I brought aren't even worth mentioning."

As he spoke, he unconsciously shook his head.

"Do your best." The reply from the other end was brief but firm.

Coulson shrugged and let out a soft sigh. "Okay."

"Hogwarts?" Pepper looked at the shop's sign and asked curiously. "Is that a place name?"

Stark looked unconcerned. "Who knows?"

Then Pepper's attention was drawn to the two stone statues at the entrance.

The two statues were carved with astonishing lifelike detail, their expressions of terror and despair captured with incredible realism.

They made one feel the fear and helplessness deep within them.

Their struggling movements were vividly rendered, every detail handled perfectly.

Even the tiny folds in their clothing were clearly visible, as though they were not cold statues but two living souls frozen in place.

They were simply masterpieces.

Yet Pepper felt no admiration for them. Instead, she felt a wave of discomfort, and her body trembled slightly.

For an instant, the statues seemed to move and lunge at her.

"This shop owner's taste seems a little twisted. Why put two such terrifying statues at the entrance?"

Pepper could not help complaining as she instinctively moved closer to Stark.

Stark could not bear to tell Pepper the truth, afraid of frightening her.

He changed the subject.

"Let's go inside first and find somewhere to sit."

As he spoke, Stark gently tugged Pepper's hand and led her into the shop.

The moment they entered, warmth surged over them like a tide.

Dressed in an evening gown, Pepper could not help exhaling a puff of frosty breath. The white mist instantly vanished in the warm air, and she was immediately freed from the cold, warmth spreading through her entire body.

"Are the guests here?"

An androgynous voice drifted over, as though it had passed through layers of mist, ethereal and unreal.

"As usual, find yourselves a seat."

A person wearing a pale mask and robes utterly out of place in this era stood behind the counter, intently preparing something.

After saying that, the person ignored Stark and Pepper, devoting their full attention to the task at hand.

Stark seemed accustomed to this. He calmly sat in the middle seat of the front row facing the counter, then gently pulled Pepper down into the seat to his left.

After staring at the mask for a short while, Pepper began to feel a little dizzy. She had clearly just looked at it, yet could not remember what it looked like.

"What a strange mask," Pepper muttered softly.

That was not the only thing she found strange.

There was the person's peculiar attire, the mysterious patterns embroidered on the robe, and its ancient, distinctive cut.

And there was also the person's indifferent attitude toward Stark.

After all, Tony Stark was a world-famous billionaire, arms dealer, and scientist.

To ordinary people, even meeting him once was as difficult as reaching the heavens. If they could build a connection with him, they would never have to worry about food or clothing for the rest of their lives.

Yet this strangely dressed person paid Stark no attention at all, simply leaving him aside.

Just as she was about to ask Stark about it, the others began filing in one after another.

Pepper had no choice but to temporarily abandon the thought.

When the last seat was filled, the shop's front door suddenly slammed shut with a bang.

It mercilessly blocked those outside who still wanted to enter.

Only then did The Dark Lord slowly speak. "Everyone is here. Then let us begin."

Everyone present involuntarily focused their attention.

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