Lin Ze had walked about fifty paces when he suddenly stopped.
Because he saw something that instantly sent his blood pressure through the roof.
At the southern end of Diagon Alley, by the entrance to Knockturn Alley, the hooded, masked Death Eaters were moving his way.
The one in front was absurdly tall, standing a full two heads above the Death Eaters around him, his bald head gleaming bluish-green beneath the green light of the Dark Mark.
And behind that fellow stood at least twenty or thirty dark figures, packed densely enough to fill half the street.
"Damn you, Merlin..." Lin Ze looked down at the wand in his hand, then back up at the huge crowd opposite him.
He was trying hard to convince himself to stay calm.
Stay calm...
Calm, my ass...
His palms were slick with sweat now, and his heart was pounding so hard it threatened to leap out of his throat.
All that lofty resolve he had felt outside the Leaky Cauldron had vanished without a trace.
There was only one thought in his head now.
Charging in wouldn't be brave. It would be suicide.
"This damned hot-bloodedness... has really screwed me over..."
So what should I do now...
Lin Ze stood rooted to the spot, looking a little dazed.
Charge in and take thirty Death Eaters head-on?
Head-on, my ass...
Sure, I'm a transmigrator, but I'm not Superman...
A cold wind swept through Diagon Alley, sending a few dead leaves tumbling past his feet.
The three Dark Marks overhead were still slowly revolving, as though mocking his earlier impulsiveness.
Lin Ze tightened his grip on his wand and took a deep breath.
Then he made a very rational decision.
He turned and ducked into a nearby alley.
Sometimes, following your heart was about destroying the enemy more effectively...
The alley was narrow, with empty barrels and moldy wooden crates piled along both sides.
Lin Ze walked a few steps deeper into the alley and crouched beside a pile of crates.
The alley was very quiet.
So quiet that Lin Ze could hear his own heart thudding wildly.
Lin Ze crouched between two stacks of moldy wooden crates, his back pressed against the cold brick wall, his wand in his hand with its tip angled slightly downward.
After crouching there for a while, he fished a pocket watch out of his coat's inner pocket.
He had picked it up at a flea market for two Sickles. It didn't keep very good time, but it was close enough.
10:17 a.m.
According to the original timeline, Voldemort hadn't found the Potter family yet.
No...
What if the timeline was off?
What if...
What if Voldemort intended to carry out a massacre in Diagon Alley before going to Godric's Hollow?
"Fuck." He swore in Chinese and stuffed the pocket watch back into his pocket.
He realized he had made a fatal mistake.
He had relied too heavily on his memories of the original story.
He had staked everything on "Voldemort will fall today," yet forgotten the most basic truth.
Reality wasn't a novel.
Villains didn't time their entrances to the very last moment. All he knew about that day's events was that Voldemort ultimately died at the Potter family's home when his own spell rebounded on him; he had no idea where Voldemort was before that.
What if history had already undergone some subtle change the moment he transmigrated...
Lin Ze leaned against the wall and tilted his head back, staring at the strip of gray sky above the alley.
He suddenly felt very stupid.
Stupid enough to think a notebook and a little cleverness would let him navigate this war with ease.
Now thirty Death Eaters were right outside the alley, and all he could do was crouch behind two stacks of moldy wooden crates...
"Honestly..."
Before he could finish, a sudden commotion broke out beyond the alley.
Someone was screaming, and someone was laughing wildly...
Lin Ze's body reacted before his brain did. He shot up from behind the crates and pointed his wand at the alley entrance.
Footsteps.
The footsteps of at least seven or eight people were coming toward him from the alley entrance.
He tightened his grip on his wand until his knuckles turned slightly white.
Then a stumbling figure rounded the corner into the alley.
It wasn't a Death Eater.
It was a small goblin in a Gringotts uniform, with pointed ears and a long nose, clutching a tin box tightly to his chest as he pumped his short legs desperately toward the back of the alley.
Four masked Death Eaters followed behind him.
When the goblin reached the middle of the alley, his foot slipped, and the whole man-no, the whole goblin-fell flat on his back with his limbs splayed.
The tin box flew out of his arms, bounced twice on the ground, and rolled right to Lin Ze's feet.
The goblin raised his head and saw Lin Ze crouching behind the crates.
Lin Ze lowered his head and saw the tin box that had rolled to his feet.
Their eyes met.
"H-help!" the goblin shrieked.
"Stop fucking yelling!" Lin Ze snatched up the tin box and pointed his wand toward the alley entrance.
The leading Death Eater had already charged into the alley. He visibly paused when he saw Lin Ze, then let out a shrill laugh.
"Hey, look. There's another Ministry of Magic lackey hiding here."
"Lackey?" Lin Ze hefted the tin box in his hand, then hurled it straight at the Death Eater's face.
The box spun several times through the air and struck the Death Eater squarely on his mask with a loud, sharp crash.
The Death Eater screamed and crouched down, clutching his nose.
"You're the lackey. Your whole fucking family's a bunch of lackeys. I work at the Records Management Office now. It's a clerical position. Clerical, understand?"
The other three Death Eaters exchanged glances, then raised their wands in unison.
Lin Ze drew a deep breath, tightened his right hand around his wand, and grabbed the goblin on the ground by the back of his collar with his left, hauling the entire goblin into the air.
He kicked open a wooden door beside him and ducked through, dragging the goblin along.
Three spells flew past, practically grazing his back, and struck the brick wall behind him, blasting out a spray of rubble.
Beyond the door was an even narrower alley leading to an abandoned warehouse district somewhere between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley.
Lin Ze pulled the goblin along as he sprinted through the cluttered passage, the footsteps behind him drawing ever closer amid the shrill whistles of spells cutting through the air.
Spell after spell flew past his ears and struck the wall ahead. Flying fragments of stone hit his face, but he didn't even feel the pain.
Lin Ze dragged the goblin through the cluttered passage at a dead run, his dragon hide boots crunching over broken bricks and discarded parchment.
Spells came hurtling after them one after another, red, green, purple-every color imaginable, like a fireworks show that cost nothing.
"Left!" the goblin shrieked.
Lin Ze swerved sharply left. A streak of red light grazed his right shoulder and struck a pile of discarded cauldrons ahead, blasting the most battered one into the air.
The cauldron flipped three times in midair, landed with a clang, rolled twice, and lodged right over a drain opening.
"How the fuck did you know to dodge left?" Lin Ze asked as he ran.
"I'm a treasure-hunting consultant for Gringotts!" Tucked under his arm, the goblin's voice shook with every jolt of their flight. "I have a professional nose for danger! It's a gift we goblins have!"
"Then why did you just fall flat on your face?"
"A nose for danger and a sense of balance are two different things!"
Lin Ze had no time to argue, because the footsteps behind them had drawn closer again.
He turned into an even narrower alley, its walls almost brushing his shoulders. A few ragged garments belonging to who knew whom hung overhead, swaying in the wind like listless ghosts.
A wall stood at the end of the alley.
A dead end.
"Fuck." Lin Ze stopped and turned to look at the goblin in his grip. This was the fucking gift you were talking about?
Four Death Eaters had already blocked the alley entrance, the lights at their wand tips glaring especially brightly in the dim surroundings.
"Run. Why aren't you running anymore?"
The Death Eater in front let out a shrill laugh.
He stood a good bit taller than the other two, and the crooked lines painted on his mask looked like some third-rate artist's failed work.
"Um... there's something I'd like to ask." Lin Ze set the goblin on the ground, straightened up, and brushed the dust off his coat.
The tall Death Eater paused. "What?"
"When you Death Eaters recruit people, do you paint your own masks, or are they issued to everyone? Yours is hideous. It looks like a child's doodles."
"You..."
"I'm serious." Lin Ze sounded utterly sincere.
"Look, you're a respectable organization, after all, with the Dark Lord personally leading you. Managing your image is important when you're out in public. I suggest you find a professional designer and standardize your visual identity system. At least make the patterns on your masks look presentable."
The four Death Eaters looked at one another.