However, a few of them still looked unenthusiastic after hearing the details. Many had been persuaded by Yaxley under the guise of purging Muggles, but they still felt the sting of missing Christmas at home.
Seeing their wavering expressions, Yaxley barked, "Rozier!"
Rozier emerged from the inner room lugging a large wooden box. He flipped it open to reveal rows of glass bottles. This was the supply Yaxley had commissioned months in advance.
"Is this... Invigoration Potion?" Wilkes asked, uncorking a bottle and sniffing the contents.
"Exactly. These will heighten your spell resistance and sharpen your focus. Consider it your holiday bonus," Yaxley said proudly, tucking a large bottle into his own robes. "Your two-day wait won't be in vain."
Reinvigorated by the gift, the group quickly divided the stash and prepared themselves for the ambush.
Meanwhile, 'Vivian' hurried toward the path outside the Hogwarts gates—the primary thoroughfare to Hogsmeade. After a short wait, she spotted Alan walking through the gates. She immediately fixed a bright, joyful expression onto her face and ran to intercept him.
"Alan! Alan!" she called out, waving frantically.
Alan pulled up short, looking stunned by her appearance. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to wait for me at the Three Broomsticks."
"Well, when William and I were walking over, we realized you've never actually been to Hogsmeade," Milly said, playing the part of Vivian with effortless deception. "I was afraid you'd get lost, so we decided to come back and meet you halfway."
"Oh?" Alan narrowed his eyes, studying her for a heartbeat before a smile broke across his face. "Is that so? You really worried for nothing. Let's go, then."
As they set off, Milly felt a surge of contempt. Travers had always claimed the boy was cunning, yet he had fallen for the first lie she told. She hadn't even needed the more elaborate conversation tactics she had practiced.
Alan followed 'Vivian' away from the main road. She led the way in silence, and Alan trailed behind her, looking pleasant.
"It's getting rather secluded, isn't it?" Alan asked, glancing at the thickening trees. "Is this really the way to the pub?"
Milly's heart hammered against her ribs. She hadn't expected him to question the route so soon.
"You guys aren't trying to pull some Christmas surprise, are you? That's a bit cliché, even for you," Alan said, seemingly talking to himself.
"Ah, haha! I didn't think you'd catch on so quickly," Milly replied with an awkward chuckle, a bead of sweat tracing its way down her temple. She cast a side-long glance at him. *Was this boy really worth all of Yaxley's effort?*
She led him through a series of twists and turns, finally arriving at a desolate corner on the outskirts of the village. The area was dotted with dilapidated, abandoned huts, and a weed-choked graveyard sat a short distance away. The paint was peeling from the walls of the surrounding structures, giving the place a ghostly air.
As they reached one of the largest huts, Alan stopped dead.
"What's wrong, Alan?" she asked, feigning confusion.
Alan adjusted his monocle and surveyed the perimeter. A mocking smile touched his lips. "Seventeen people. That's quite a grand setup. It really is a surprise."
Milly froze, her expression hardening. "What are you talking about? Just come inside. I've prepared a big gift for you."
"You're far too ugly for me to accept a gift from you. I'll just take it myself."
Before Milly could process the insult, Alan spun and delivered a sharp kick to her knee. As her leg buckled with a sickening crack, he followed up with a thunderous right hook to her jaw. The impact sent her sailing through the air. She didn't even have the chance to scream before she hit the ground and lost consciousness.
The moment she went limp, her features began to writhe and distort. Within seconds, the image of Vivian melted away, leaving Milly Osborne lying in the dirt. Alan had known from the first syllable that she was a fake.
*Clap! Clap! Clap!*
Applause echoed from behind him. "Excellent, Alan. Truly. Tell me, when did you realize she wasn't the real thing?"
"From the start," Alan said. He didn't need to turn around to identify Yaxley's voice. "The real Vivian is never that quiet."
"Oh?" Yaxley's voice was dripping with mockery. "And yet you still dared to come here alone? Should I admire your courage, or simply assume you've overestimated your own worth?"
"You didn't bring me out here for a chat, did you? If you keep talking, I might start confusing you for Vivian, too," Alan said, picking at his ear with a grin. He kept his eyes forward; he had already used the Echo Spell to confirm that the majority of the seventeen were positioned in the hut ahead.
Realizing the ruse was over, the ambushers filed out of the abandoned house, fanning out to encircle him. Travers was flushed with a manic excitement, a savage laugh bubbling in his throat.
"You aren't escaping today, you filthy bastard! I'm going to gouge those disgusting eyes right out of your head!"
Wilkes looked on with a sneer, but maintained his caution. "Stop the posturing and act! We need to finish this before anyone notices. Even in a remote spot, a distress signal could bring help."
"Don't worry," Travers said, his eyes wild with the promise of revenge. "I've set up multiple Shield Charms around the perimeter—I even learned that trick from this brat. You could blow this hut to smithereens and no one in the village would hear a peep. No one is coming to save him!"
Yaxley looked at the trapped boy and laughed. "You still haven't told me, Alan. Where did you get the nerve to walk into this? We had several plans ready. The Polyjuice Potion was the clumsiest of them. I didn't actually think Milly would be enough to lure you here."