Tom heaved a breath, reclaiming his strength with the influx of oxygen into his lungs. He hurried out of Borgin and Burkes with a parcel that he quickly hid inside his robes as he closed the door. It was nighttime, and Knockturn Alley was deserted, with only a few seedy characters huddled drunkenly in corners. He walked up the street, making sure to keep his pace casual and unhurried.