Hog's Head Inn

Tver did not mind and simply wandered around the shop on his own.

Dervish and Banges could be said to be the most famous alchemists in Britain's wizarding world. Of course, they rarely identified themselves as such; most people assumed they were merely the owners of a prop shop.

That made sense. Their shop was relatively small, and the magical items they sold focused on practicality. In terms of fame, they were far behind entertainment shops like Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop and Zonko's Joke Shop.

If the Welfare Family had not recorded the story of Dervish's family and revealed that they possessed a legitimate alchemical inheritance, Tver would not have chosen to come here.

The other half of the shop displayed Quidditch equipment. Aside from things like repair scissors, he also spotted several peculiar Golden Snitches.

Everything he knew about Quidditch had come from Viktor, but even he knew that Golden Snitches did not come in such designs.

Some had wings like a fire dragon's bony spines, while others were simply shaped like little birds. There were even square Snitches.

Intrigued, he picked up the bird-shaped one. It immediately seemed to come alive, flapping its wings in Tver's hand and vaguely attempting to fly, yet it could not get off the ground no matter what.

Like a remote-controlled plane from his previous life with a dead battery.

"That was an experimental Golden Snitch from long ago, personally made by some ancestor of mine from who knew how many generations back. But obviously, it was never adopted."

Dervish and Banges had finished their discussion. While Banges tidied up the merchandise, Dervish walked over to Tver.

"Sir, I need to know your identity." Dervish gestured at the badge in his hand. "Other than the Ministry of Magic, I can't think of any legitimate organization that would need these things in such quantities. The Dark Magic Defence Alliance?"

Tver knew of the Dark Magic Defence Alliance he mentioned. It was an anti-Dark Magic organization, but its members rarely maintained close ties with one another. It was more like a loose coalition.

Still, the wizards within it did have ways of identifying Dark Magic, and Tver had no intention of causing himself trouble by provoking them.

"Allow me to introduce myself." Tver gave Dervish a slight bow. "Tver Foley, professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. These items are for my students."

"Gasp—"

Dervish drew in a deep breath.

"You're the new professor from Durmstrang?"

"Oh?" Tver was somewhat surprised. "You know me?"

Dervish suddenly felt his body stiffen, though the sensation lasted only a moment.

"Of course." An unconsciously ingratiating smile appeared on his face. "We have heard of the Welfare Family's great name. Besides, Hagrid often drinks and plays cards with us."

Tver shrugged casually.

"In that case, you can make this batch of badges?"

He could understand Dervish's concerns. If an illegitimate organization used these badges to commit unspeakable crimes in the wizarding world, they would certainly be blamed as well.

Those on the side of justice always had more concerns. If it were the people in Knockturn Alley, then as long as one could pay, they could get anything.

"If it is for you, then naturally there is no problem. May I ask how many you would like made?" Dervish respectfully handed the badge back.

The Welfare Family had produced a Minister for Magic—Tver's grandfather, in fact. Though he had been rather unsuccessful politically and stepped down after only ten years in office.

Even so, it was still an illustrious pure-blood family.

Tver did some calculations. There were eighty students in a single year, so three years would require two hundred and forty.

First-years would not need them yet, but there was no harm in preparing in advance.

"I need two hundred and forty badges. You can provide them in three batches—eighty each time will do."

What a huge order!

Dervish's eyes immediately lit up.

As for whether Tver could afford it?

That would be underestimating the foundation of a pure-blood family. Even a family as poor as the Weasley Family had once been wealthy.

"I will indeed need some time to make them. At this pace, the first batch will probably take two months. Once I become more familiar with the process, the later batches can be done faster," Dervish said excitedly.

That would be November, even earlier than Tver's teaching plan required.

He readily nodded in agreement.

After discussing a few more details, Tver finally left behind eighty Galleons and departed.

One Galleon each, for a total of two hundred and forty Galleons.

It was not expensive—merely two months' salary for Tver. To him, it was indeed cheap.

And he had also established a connection with Dervish and Banges, the two alchemists.

The world's largest alchemical research center was in Egypt, so most alchemists were there. These two brothers were the only ones to be found in Britain.

Borgin of Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley was also a fairly capable alchemist, but Tver did not think highly of him.

When he returned to the main street, there were already far fewer pedestrians in the village, and most shops were preparing to close.

Compared to Muggles' vibrant nightlife, wizards could only be described as dull.

With Muggle technology advancing by the day, wizarding society seemed to have pressed a pause button. Aside from the usual newspapers and periodicals, there was only the rare bit of music for everyday entertainment.

That was the current state of the wizarding world.

Stagnation!

Tver had not intended to linger here, but then he spotted a familiar figure by the roadside.

Quirinus Quirrell.

His signature oversized turban was covered by a large hood, his face hidden in shadow, leaving only his chin visible.

But the stench of Voldemort clinging to him was something Tver could smell from across the street.

Tver was all too familiar with that evil aura.

He took out a spare black robe from his wallet and copied Quirrell, covering his own face.

A little tip: whether you were a Dark wizard, a Light wizard, or neither black nor white, learning a few tricks to hide your appearance was the first step toward entering society.

Tver could also use human Transfiguration to make slight alterations to his appearance. It was his teacher's specialty.

There was simply no need to do that right now.

Following Quirrell, Tver waited until he was two people behind him before entering the shabby tavern.

Hog's Head Inn.

It was a narrow, old-fashioned little pub.

So narrow that barely a dozen people made it feel as crowded as a hundred;

So old-fashioned that the windows were caked with grime as though it had been accumulating for centuries, leaving almost no light able to pass through.

The same grime coated the tables, chairs, and floor.

Here, keeping one's face hidden was perfectly normal. Aside from people like Hagrid, who simply could not conceal themselves, nearly everyone wore a hood or veil.

So when Tver entered, no one paid him any attention.

Only the owner of the Hog's Head Inn approached him indifferently. Rather than addressing a customer, he sounded as if he were dealing with a nuisance when he asked:

"What'll you have?"