Chapter 495: Chapter 495: Mr. Penney Likes Dolls (Edited)
Beer... no more.
Magazines... no more.
Joy had also disappeared.
Dawlish's face clearly displayed his despondency. Coins of different sizes were piled up on the counter in front of him: golden galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts.
At this moment, Dawlish didn't have a single knut left in his wallet. Even the fact that he could carry twenty galleons with him was quite surprising. Naya, beside him, showed no intention of lending him money. She was even poorer than Dawlish, and the monthly expenditure on skincare products wasn't a small figure.
After some thought, Dawlish took out the Canary Creams and the joke wand. He intended to return these two items to have enough money to pay the deposit.
"It's not necessary." Tom waved his hand and returned the items.
"I trust your reputation. Twelve galleons are enough." Tom received the deposit, primarily as a cost-covering fee, to prevent Dawlish from suddenly changing his mind and not wanting the alchemical artifact, as he would also have to invest money in materials.
Dawlish felt relieved.
At that moment, Tom took out two scrolls of parchment from beneath the counter.
"Please sign the contract."
While signing the contract, Dawlish made some modifications to the details of the alchemical artifact: he wanted it to be a ring instead of a glove.
Tom had no issue with that. Both parties quickly signed the contract. Dawlish stored the contract and left the alchemy shop along with Naya.
During the next period of time, Tom stayed in the studio of the alchemy shop until Mr. Penney returned.
Ding!
Even in the studio, the sound of the welcome bell could be clearly heard. Upon hearing the bell, Tom stepped out of the studio and saw Mr. Penney enter excitedly.
"How was business today?" he asked casually.
"I have two orders, both for rings."
"Congratulations," Mr. Penney responded. He showed no regret about losing the business. He gestured for Tom to come closer. Once Tom was near, Mr. Penney placed a suitcase on the counter as if presenting a treasure.
"Come and see what I've obtained by spending so much money!" Mr. Penney had pride written all over his face. "This is the prototype designed by the best non-magical artist and handcrafted by the most experienced master in the city of London... and finally, it has been given life by the most outstanding magical transformation master in the magical world. And now, as the prominent alchemist that I am, I will give it power... this is my alchemical creation: the Purple Rain Heart."
Inside the box lay a very exquisite doll, about a foot long, with brown hair, black high-heeled shoes with red soles, and a tight black suit with a white fur stole. Next to the doll was a small replica of an automatic rifle.
Tom: ????
"I saw her in a Muggle store before, fell in love with her at first sight, and finally gathered enough money to buy her. Today, I made an appointment with the transformation master to turn her into a mobile doll..." Mr. Penney incessantly explained the origin of the doll in his suitcase.
Tom was stunned. He had no idea who the best non-magical artists or the most experienced master in the city of London were, but wouldn't the magical transformation master be Professor McGonagall? Moreover, was it really convenient to take that doll out in public?
"I'm going to do alchemy; keep watching the store. You can leave at five on your own," Mr. Penney said, stowing the suitcase and heading to the studio to work with light steps.
Tom remained in the shop, wearing a surprised expression as he watched over the business.
...
After leaving the alchemy shop, Dawlish and Naya no longer felt like continuing their investigation. They returned to the Ministry of Magic after a quick inspection of several shops on Knockturn Alley.
"Two hundred galleons, Dawlish, you're really generous," Naya commented as they waited for the elevator.
Dawlish paid her no attention.
Meddlesome witch, I told you not to meddle in my affairs!
"Rich people, not like me, who can only afford a 20-galleon glove..." Naya touched the glove on her hand, caressing it a bit.
Dawlish rolled his eyes and decided to switch shifts with his colleagues. During the summer holidays, he planned to work at the World Cup stadium to earn some extra money for overtime and fieldwork compensation.
The elevator creaked and groaned as it reached the second floor.
"Second floor, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the Auror Office, and the Administrative Services of the Wizengamot."
Dawlish and Naya exited the elevator together and turned a corner, passing through two heavy oak doors and entering an open, chaotic area divided into several cubicles. The place was bustling, with people talking and laughing animatedly. Notes with messages flew around like small airplanes from the cubicles. This was Dawlish and Naya's workplace: the Auror Office.
The walls of each cubicle were covered with things that the Aurors had stuck on them, from portraits of wanted wizards (Sirius Black used to be a frequent visitor) to posters of their favorite Quidditch teams, photographs of their families, and even newspaper clippings they had made themselves. It was a mishmash of things.
A lion-maned wizard appeared in front of them. Threads of gray peeked out amid his lion-like brown hair and bushy eyebrows, and behind his gold-framed glasses were a pair of sharp, yellow, penetrating eyes. He walked with a slight limp in his legs, but it didn't affect his elegance; anyone seeing him for the first time would notice he was a sharp and tough individual.
This man was Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office.
"Follow me," he instructed them and led both of them to an adjacent small meeting room to brief them on the mission.
"So you didn't find any anomalies at all," Scrimgeour said with a slight displeasure after hearing the report. He knew the nature of Knockturn Alley merchants all too well. For a galleon, they were capable of doing anything.
Scrimgeour had a very low opinion of those merchants. In his eyes, if they found dark magic items, they were wicked Knockturn Alley merchants, and if they found nothing, they were cunning Knockturn Alley merchants.
"What do you have in your robes?" Scrimgeour noticed that his subordinate's pocket seemed bulging.
"Oh, yes, the two of us found a very interesting new shop." Dawlish had forgotten about the alchemy workshop until now, so nervous he was under the Chief's pressure.
He quickly manipulated his robes and pulled out what was inside.
Scrimgeour glanced down: a used wand, a box of biscuits, and a teacup.
Scrimgeour: ????
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