Walking along the cold, damp ground of Knockturn Alley, Silvan sighed helplessly.
To be honest, their method was not particularly clever. At the very least, the timing was a glaring problem.
Other than dark wizards, no one would enter Knockturn Alley at night.
Unfortunately, Silvan had still fallen for it, stepping straight into this clumsy trap... Or perhaps, for some reason, he had instinctively overlooked the danger of entering Knockturn Alley at night.
"Just from that, you guessed our target was the wand shop?" A cold, hoarse voice came from behind him.
"You went to all this trouble. You couldn't possibly have done it just to capture some ordinary Hogwarts student. It must be because of who I am."
Silvan took a deep breath and smiled. "If there's anything special about me, it's probably just that my surname is Ollivander."
"Perhaps we can add that... clever brain of yours." The man spoke unhurriedly. It sounded like praise, but his tone was full of mockery... like a beast complimenting its prey for being so lively.
"Can you tell me what you want?" Silvan asked, instinctively clenching his fists as though ready to fight for his life at any moment.
"For wands, of course." The tall man on the right suddenly grew agitated. "Last time, it was because those wolf cubs lacked wands that we couldn't kill that damned Potter for so long! The Dark Lord—"
"Shut up, idiot!" A sharp rebuke cut him off, and then the voice returned to its previous emotionless state.
"You're very clever, but I have ways to make that brain of yours completely empty. Would you like to try?"
Silvan knew perfectly well that those words were meant for him.
"Don't be like that. I just want to help you." He hurriedly explained, "The wand chooses