Attention from the Magical Creature Shop

Severus Snape stood where he was, his fists clenched tightly beneath his black robes.

His nails dug deep into his palms, and only the sharp pain barely allowed him to retain the last shred of reason.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When he opened them again, those black eyes had once more been covered in cold, heavy, unbreakable ice.

All his leaking emotions were forcibly shoved back into the deepest prison.

Occlumency resumed, repairing the cracks shaken open moments ago.

But only he himself knew—

Once some things were touched, they could never return to how they had been.

That red-eyed boy...

Those strange eyes, as if they could see through everything...

That remark about "emerald-green eyes"...

All of it slithered into his mind like venomous snakes, coiling around his most vulnerable nerves.

He turned around, his black robes billowing as he strode toward the shop door.

"Professor!" Ivan finally came back to his senses and hurriedly called out. "Those two sets of clothes... should they really be delivered to your residence?"

Snape paused for a moment.

He did not turn back. His voice was as cold as iron in a dungeon:

"As you wish."

With that, he pushed open the door and vanished into the afternoon light and shadows of Diagon Alley.

His back was resolute, yet it carried a trace of panic that even he himself had not noticed...

At the other end of Diagon Alley.

Madara strolled through the gradually thinning crowd, Shadow Guards following beside him like the most loyal of shadows.

His scarlet eyes had returned to their usual dark color, but a meaningful curve still lingered on his lips.

What had just happened was quite interesting.

Severus Snape's reaction had been even more... intense than he had expected.

That man's mental world was even darker and more complex than he had imagined.

Especially when "emerald-green eyes" had been mentioned, the emotional turbulence that erupted in that instant—

Regret, pain, obsession, and a thread of almost desperate hope...

So rich, so pure.

They were simply the finest... nourishment.

Madara raised his hand, and a thread of dark golden magic silently flowed around his fingertips.

Within the Sharingan, that black tomoe seemed to have become... a little more solid.

"My lord," a Shadow Guard beside him asked quietly, "should we continue watching Severus Snape?"

Madara shook his head.

"No."

He looked toward the distant sky, gradually sinking into dusk, and spoke calmly:

"The seed has already been planted."

"Now, all we need to do is wait... for it to sprout on its own."

Hogwarts.

Potions professor.

Severus Snape.

The curve on Madara's lips deepened slightly.

What an... interesting man.

At that moment, at the exit of Diagon Alley, Severus Snape was striding swiftly toward the Leaky Cauldron.

His expression was so gloomy it seemed ready to drip water, his black robes roiling behind him like storm clouds.

When Old Tom in the Leaky Cauldron saw him, he was just about to greet him when Snape's nearly tangible oppressive aura frightened him into keeping silent.

Snape passed through the pub, entered the rear courtyard, and drew his wand to tap the bricks.

The wall parted, revealing the gray, dreary Muggle streets of London beyond.

He stepped outside, and the glow of Apparition gathered at his fingertips—

But at the final moment, he stopped.

He stood there, looking at the bustling Muggle world before him. Deep in those black eyes, complicated emotions churned.

That red-eyed boy...

Those eyes...

Those words...

"You... do you still remember those 'emerald-green eyes'?"

Snape's fists clenched once more.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the raging storm within his heart.

The light of Apparition burst forth.

His figure vanished from the spot.

Only a low, barely audible murmur carrying icy killing intent lingered in the evening air of London:

"No matter what you are..."

"If you dare use Lily to play any tricks..."

"I will let you know..."

"What true... living death feels like."

After leaving Ivan's Bespoke Shop, Madara followed the Shadow Guards into a place particularly crowded with young wizards—

A magical creature shop.

As he pushed open the door hung with a copper bell, a warm gust carrying the mingled scents of feathers, hay, and magical creatures rushed over him.

The shop was far larger than it appeared from outside.

Countless cages were stacked from the floor to the ceiling. Magical creatures of every color and size cooed, hissed, or gave piercing cries. Snowy owls, tawny owls, Crups, Kneazles, even rare crimson horned owls... the selection was dazzling.

"Welcome! This... young gentleman!"

A young wizard with a bright smile and fluffy hair enthusiastically approached. His eyes swept over Madara's obviously expensive robe, and they lit up even more.

"Need a loyal and reliable companion? Take a look at this beautiful snowy owl! Hatched near a Norwegian Ridgeback habitat, it has sharp eyes and flies fast when delivering letters! Not interested? Then how about this Demon Horned Frog from South Africa? It's huge, but it has a stable temperament and is especially suited to keeping first-years company..."

The shop assistant went on and on, trying to arouse the interest of this unusually poised youth.

But Madara's gaze did not linger for even a second on these "ordinary" pets.

He walked straight through the crowded shop, ignoring the owls crying at him and the Kneazles trying to entice him with their tails.

Those scarlet pupils, like searchlights piercing through fog, fixed directly on the deepest part of the shop—

The light there was dim, and the air was more stagnant than elsewhere.

The depths of the shop were filled with the scent of moss and ancient wood.

Glowing insect eggs soaked in glass jars, while color-changing ferrets curled up in wire cages.

But at the end of all the sounds and light stood a colossal thing completely shrouded in shadow.

A massive birdcage, securely protected by layer upon layer of magical barriers.

The cage nearly touched the ceiling and was forged from some dark metal. Its bars were as thick as an adult's wrist. There were no decorations on the cage, only layered sealing runes faintly visible in the dim light, pulsing slightly like blood vessels.

Most strange of all was the air around the cage—it was unnaturally silent.

The cries of the foxes in neighboring cages abruptly disappeared three feet away from it, as though the sounds had been swallowed by something invisible.

As Madara approached, a faint prickling sensation ran across his skin.

Electrical charge was gathering in the air.

Then he saw it—

In the deepest shadows of the cage, two clusters of ghostly blue flames burned quietly.

"Picky young wizard."

The old shopkeeper behind the counter raised his head from a pile of glowing lizard skins. The eye behind his monocle was cloudy yet sharp. Somehow, he had appeared beside Madara, and the silver rod in his hand pointed toward the cage bars.

"You have a good eye," the old shopkeeper said softly, as though afraid of disturbing something. "But it... is different."

With a light tap of the rod, the runes on the cage bars lit up one after another. The darkness was driven away, revealing the creature's full outline.

An astonishingly huge Raven.

No, calling it a Raven was no longer quite accurate. It stood on a specially made perch, its frame and build closer to that of a pitch-black eagle. Its head was only half a foot below the top of the cage. Its feathers were not pure black, but an unfathomably dark shade that reflected a metallic blue-violet matte sheen when the light passed over them, like quenched steel blades.

"It has been here for seven years." The shopkeeper's voice carried complicated emotions.

"It has Thunderbird blood. It was bred by a wizarding family in Eastern Europe... a failed product."

The Raven slowly turned its head.

Its movement was slow and heavy, yet possessed the precision unique to a predator.

Its eyes were the most striking feature—

Unlike the birds of prey with Thunderbird blood described in magical creature guides, this Raven's eyes were scarlet, like dancing flames.

"Thunderbird blood allows its feathers to gather storms." The shopkeeper pointed at the top of the cage with his rod.

Madara noticed a small mass of swirling gray clouds floating above the cage, with tiny bolts of lightning silently flickering within.

"The North American Ministry of Magic strictly controls Thunderbird crossbreeding, but there are always people trying it on the black market. This one's bloodline ratio... became unbalanced. Its magic is too strong, and its nature is far too wild."

As if to prove his words, the Raven suddenly spread its wings.

[Dear wizards, please follow along daily and tap the reminder button! This little mouse started updating ten thousand words a day yesterday! The New Year is almost here! As long as reminders pass 500, even if this little mouse loses all three livers, there will still be ten thousand words every day! (At worst, I'll smash them and drink potions...)]