When the Roses Bloom Again by TheBlack'sResurgence

Chapter 11

To a Home I Should Have Had

This was his first somewhat voluntary visit to Knockturn Alley. His first trip here was memorable, for all the wrong reasons, and Harry was hopeful that today would be different, though he certainly was not revelling in the thought of encountering another hag trying to sell him her wares.

Already, he had been to Diagon Alley to purchase the various Christmas gifts he needed to, and had even entered the apothecary there, but had gotten quite the bad feeling about enquiring about his basilisk ingredients.

He had, of course, consulted the current law with regards to such a thing. It was not illegal to own, possess or trade any single part of the creature, but it simply did not feel as though a place in Diagon Alley was to go.

As such, he found himself in the shady streets of the adjoining one with his robes pulled over his head as he mustered up the courage to enter a rather dubious-looking shop that advertised itself as an apothecary of sorts.

It didn't use the word 'apothecary' in its name, but the windows were full of all manner of plants, bloods, and even venoms, so Harry felt this may be the place he was looking for.

Releasing a deep breath, he braced himself and pushed the door open, an unpleasant smell filling his nose before he'd even crossed the threshold.

"Good afternoon," a rather rotund man with a dirty, white apron greeted him. "What can I do for you?"

Evidently, it was commonplace for one to enter his shop, concealing their identity.

"I wanted to ask what the current price of basilisk venom is," Harry explained.

The man puffed his cheeks out dramatically.

"Depends," he grunted, folding his arms.

"On?"

"Depends where it comes from, the proof, the age, and so on," the man huffed. "If you want something as little as 1% venom and 99% dilution on the lower end of quality, it's cheaper. If you wanted 20% venom with an 80% dilution, that would cost you considerably more."

This was not the conversation Harry was expecting.

"What about pure venom?" he asked.

The proprietor guffawed, his large belly bouncing up and down rhythmically.

"Not a chance," he said eventually. "You won't get anything pure, not unless you own one of the bloody farms," he added with a grumble.

"Farms?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, the venom farms," the shopkeeper tutted irritably. "You know, the place where they hatch them and milk them. Greedy bastards they are."

That was news to Harry. He hadn't expected there to be such a thing as basilisk farms.

An almost amusing image of dozens of enormous serpents slithering free in a field came to the forefront of his mind, and he shook his head.

No, that couldn't be right.

"How do they farm them?"