Harry Potter: Reunion with the Enemy

"Mrs. Malfoy, you seem to have a call." Ed handed Harry the ringing phone on the table.

It was Draco. Harry was busy chatting with the Duchess, ignoring the dozen or so unread messages that popped up on the front page, and he quickly clicked the answer button.

"Hello?" Harry stammered. "What? What about choosing a dress for wedding photos?"

Ed heard the intermittent conversation and immediately stopped walking away. The gossip report that Rita ordered was also an important task for him recently. Thinking of the important matter of collecting gossip materials, he simply stayed close to Harry and pretended to be nonchalant while watching Mrs. Malfoy who was gradually becoming embarrassed.

"I don't want it." Harry clenched his fists, "Or you can buy it and wear it yourself."

The person on the other end of the phone obviously didn't fully listen to the lady's advice.

"Don't buy it!" Harry began to get a little annoyed, and he paced around the origami device. "Draco, who wants to wear a backless dress?"

After a while, the person on the other end of the phone seemed to have made a decision and hung up.

"Beep-beep-beep--" the sound on the other end of the phone turned into a busy tone.

Harry stood there glaring at his phone, but considering that he couldn't Apparate directly to the bridal shop to capture Draco, he calmed down, ruffled his originally smooth wig, and took big strides to return to the Duchess.

"Ah——" Harry couldn't control the five-centimeter high heels skillfully, and his anger made him a little distracted. Harry's body tilted and he fell directly on a huge paper crane.

The pure white paper cranes turned into a pile of wrinkles in an instant, and Harry felt a sharp pain in his ankle.

"Mrs. Malfoy." Ed quickly stepped forward to help Harry up, and kicked the crushed paper crane device aside, "Are you okay?"

"It's just a sprain. The heels don't fit my feet very well." Harry replied politely, standing up quickly. "Nothing - s-- serious."

"Do you need to be taken to the hospital?" Ed asked.

"It's okay, I'm fine." Harry didn't want to disrupt his plans to go to the Duchess's house today.

"Excuse me, I just heard that you need wedding photos taken?" Ed saw Harry was responding fiercely to a bunch of pictures sent by Draco. "If you need a photographer, you can consider me."

Before Harry could answer, Lancelot appeared from the side and helped Harry up, pushing Ed two meters away.

"It's time to go." Lancelot said to Harry, then turned back and gave Ed a warning look.

"My photography skills are pretty good." Ed automatically moved to the other side of Harry, avoiding the attack range of Lancelot's arm. "And I can shoot quickly enough, maybe I can finish everything in an hour. Other photographers may need several days."

"Look at what I just took at the magic show." Ed handed the camera monitor to Harry. "Some photographers with poor skills may ask couples to take a kiss photo for three or four hours in public. So, the photographer is very important. Contact him at any time if needed."

Harry seemed somewhat interested. Since it was unlikely that he could stop Draco's plan, he might as well find a more efficient photographer to fulfill his wish as soon as possible.

Before Lancelot could launch a new round of attack, Ed handed the business card to Harry and quickly slipped away.

-----

"I might have to ask you to help me find the goblin artifact at the Duchess's house." Harry felt the pain in his ankle coming. "I can hardly walk, let alone sneak around the house in high heels."

Harry took out the opal necklace and the Auror-specific spell detection tool that Draco had given him from his backpack and handed them to Lancelot. "Things that Andre gave to potential competitors will probably have negative effects. Although the effects should not be too obvious, and it is not certain what type they are, you must be careful and remember to use the replication spell."

"No problem. Goblin stuff is easy for me to identify." Lancelot agreed readily. "After you find it, do you want to hand it over directly to the Ministry of Magic? Or find an excuse to leave early?"

"If you know how visitors enter the British Ministry of Magic, you can say that I am the one who is passing it on," Harry replied. "The last one was seeking the brain effects of anesthesia, so don't stay long."

"I've been there once." Lancelot said, taking Harry's utensils, "Leave it to me."

"Where... where..." Thirty minutes after sitting down, while everyone was chatting happily, Lancelot found an excuse to leave in a hurry. He walked quickly through the empty corridor. Fortunately, there were no servants in the Duchess's house.

Although the Duchess's house is also gorgeous on the outside, the interior decoration and furniture have shown signs of aging, and the delicate texture of the wood reflects the remaining elegance. Many aristocrats who are gradually becoming lonely will eventually be unable to afford the repair and maintenance costs of their ancestral mansions and will eventually sell them to new wealthy owners.

Furniture, like people, will develop wrinkles and age spots. Once it is not regularly maintained and wiped, dust and cracks will creep in, filling every corner and destroying the so-called elegance.

Lancelot stared at the magic detector, and finally, when it approached the Duchess's cloakroom, it made a detection sound.

Rings, necklaces, brooches, Lancelot opened the box and quickly searched for the items. The Duchess had a lot of jewelry, but he keenly discovered that most of them were cheap and of low quality. Although it was difficult for experts to tell the true value of these items.

Finally, a silver necklace at the bottom of the box that didn't match the other jewelry caught Lancelot's attention. "I found you." Apart from the obvious goblin-like processing on the necklace, the necklace was very new compared to the other jewelry, with no signs of wear.

It is conceivable that the silver jewelry was too cheap to be used by the Duchess to support her appearance. Fortunately, this may be the reason why she was not greatly affected.

Lancelot quickly copied a fake and put it back in the jewelry box, and carefully put the real one into his pocket. Now he had to make a quick trip to the Ministry of Magic -

He turned around and was met with those damn ice-blue eyes again.

"What are you doing? Rummaging the ladies' cloakroom?" Ed looked obviously confused, his eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you doing? Stalker?" Lancelot retorted.

Why is he so haunted? Lancelot gave up explaining and strode past Ed.

"Excuse me, I have something urgent to attend to. Please allow me to leave early." Lancelot winked at Harry, said goodbye to everyone, and quickly left the Duke's mansion.

Lancelot recalled the location of the Ministry of Magic and walked to a secluded place to prepare to Apparate.

There were hurried footsteps behind me.

"I said - don't follow me." Lancelot didn't even bother to look back at him.

"Why? I mean, why would you do that?"

"I don't think I need to report the purpose of every move to the debt collector." Lancelot rolled his eyes. "Even if I owe a lot of money because of a wrongful conviction."

Ed was obviously choked by this. He held it in for a long time before finally saying, "It's my fault for appearing in this way. I apologize."

"Do you need money? If it's urgent, you can also come to me." Ed continued to ask.

"The debt collector has also added lending business?" Lancelot raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not a debt collector, I'm the editor-in-chief," Ed explained.

Lancelot frowned, wondering why the man in front of him was talking nonsense. It seemed that it would be difficult to get rid of him for a while, and if he went directly to the Ministry of Magic, he would stare at him and ask him questions endlessly.

"Where are you going? Why are you in such a hurry to leave?" Ed asked.

One hundred thousand whys.

"I'm going to the black market to sell some things and save some money. It's dirty and smelly." Lancelot replied expressionlessly. "Please go back."

"I'll come with you." Ed stepped forward, "to check—um—your repayment progress."

What is the black market? It sounds like it exists outside of wizarding law.