Following Yulia's notification, Alan began his preparations. He checked his tactical equipment, adjusting each item for easy access to ensure he could handle a sudden skirmish if necessary. Although the probability was low, he couldn't be certain the Travers family wouldn't renege on their word at the last moment.
Next, he organized his spatial storage; the sheer volume of materials he was set to collect was substantial. He emptied his linen spatial bags and the dragonhide pouch he'd taken from Torquil to maximize his carrying capacity. He also packed several reams of parchment for copying books, which he had fortunately salvaged from the basement of number 277.
"The linen bag only has a year or two of stability left. I'll have to craft a new one once I have these high-grade materials in hand," Alan mused, looking at the worn fabric. This bag had been his constant companion for nearly three years.
With everything ready, he set off for Travers Manor. Yulia had suggested he arrive directly via the Floo Network, but he had declined. Appearing in the literal heart of an enemy's territory was a risk he wasn't willing to take. He chose to approach from the outside.
After arriving at the gates, Alan conducted a thorough reconnaissance. Only after verifying the perimeter with an Echo Charm and a series of Raven Spells did he feel secure enough to enter.
In contrast to Alan's wariness, Yulia had no intention of double-crossing him. It wasn't out of a sense of honor, but pure dread. After Torquil's sudden, inexplicable death under heavy Auror guard, a chill had settled into her bones. To this day, she couldn't fathom how Alan had done it. Was it a curse? A localized hex? If he could reach into the Ministry's deepest cells, he could certainly reach her. She simply wanted to finish the transaction and put as much distance between herself and this young man as possible.
"You're here. Follow me; I'll hand over the materials first," Yulia said, her expression dark as she met him at the doorstep. She led him through the manor, which seemed strangely deserted, as if she had cleared out the staff for this meeting.
She led him into a room where the promised goods were piled high. It was clear Yulia had no intention of letting him inside the actual family vault; she had brought the vault to him.
On a large table in the center of the room, stacks of Galleons sat like a small golden mountain, interspersed with silver Sickles and copper Knuts. The Travers family clearly hadn't possessed that much liquid cash; to meet his demands, they had evidently liquidated several antiques.
Beside the gold were the metals. Some were in the form of small, brick-shaped ingots, but most were finished products. Alan saw a hoard of Goblin-wrought silver: necklaces, bracelets, earrings, heavy cups, and even a full set of cutlery. There was even half of a massive mithril candlestick, crudely severed to meet the exact weight requirement. Piled alongside were various artifacts of Agriba alloy and Paracelsus brass—a magnificent, if slightly tragic, display of old-world wealth.
Tucked beside these were three wooden boxes. Alan opened the largest one to find a pound of Goblin Urim steel. It consisted of a dagger, a bracelet, a ring, and a large portion of a belt buckle. They had clearly been alchemical tools once, but the runes had been meticulously scrubbed clean.
*Trying to keep me from learning your family's enchantments by erasing the runes?* Alan thought, curling his lip in a silent sneer. *I don't need your second-rate charms.*
The Urim steel was incredibly valuable, second only to the refined mithril. He moved to the two smaller boxes. As expected, the first contained three ounces of refined mithril in its rawest form. Unlike the other metals, it hadn't been fashioned into anything; it lay in the box like an irregular, shimmering cake.
The surface of the metal flickered with tiny, rice-sized halos of light. It was beautiful. Alan could feel a connection to the material through his magical perception without even trying. It truly lived up to its reputation as the finest magic-conducting medium in existence.
He opened the final small box to find a bottle of golden solution. Felix Felicis. The brewing process was a nightmare of complexity, taking at least six months and requiring the rarest of ingredients. This was his first time seeing the finished product.
In addition to the items on the table, there was a heap of dragonhide, Mooncalf furs, and rare medicinal herbs. Their competing scents filled the air, making the room smell thick and earthy.
"You can count them," Yulia said, her face a frozen mask. Watching her family's legacy be handed over like common grain clearly pained her.
Alan nodded and began a meticulous inventory. He didn't just check weights and quality; he swept every item with detection magic for hidden poisons or delayed curses. He knew that this was the most dangerous moment of the exchange.
Watching his clinical, cautious movements, Yulia could only press her lips together in resignation. She had considered a trap, but the fear of a failed attempt bringing total ruin to her house had stayed her hand. She was relieved now that she hadn't acted on those darker impulses.
It took Alan nearly an hour to verify everything. Only when he was satisfied did he relax slightly, sorting the materials and the Galleons into his spatial bags.
"Everything is in order," Alan said, looking at Yulia with a polite smile. "The quantity and quality are acceptable. Now, for the library."
"Hmph. Don't be a hypocrite," Yulia snapped, having not offered a single pleasantry since his arrival. "Follow me. The collection is upstairs."
Alan didn't mind her tone; he followed her with a light step. Yulia pushed open a set of ornate double doors, revealing the Travers family library. The room was intimate and densely packed. A long corridor ran through the center with heavy wood study tables, while a row of velvet sofas lined the right wall for comfortable reading.