"Good morning, Titi."
John reached down to pick up the cat rubbing against his legs, feeling content with the furry creature in his arms.
Titi meowed, and three more cats emerged, surrounding John's feet. John took out some cat food he had brought along.
Tom, his dog, circled around impatiently, wagging his tail in disappointment. They were supposed to go for a walk, but here John was, feeding cats instead.
An elderly woman, leaning on a cane, slowly approached. John saw her and greeted her warmly, "Good morning, Mrs. Figg."
Arabella Figg smiled at John. No one would guess that this seemingly ordinary old lady was actually a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
She was a Squib whom Dumbledore had asked to look after Harry.
Six months ago, her list of charges had grown to include one more person: John Wick.
Dumbledore had personally visited her, wanting to learn more about this student. Mrs. Figg had taken a liking to John because he always came by to help care for her cats.
John's love for furry animals was akin to Dumbledore's love for sweets. It was for this reason that Dumbledore had decided to make John the temporary keeper of the Philosopher's Stone.
John, unaware that he might have Mrs. Figg to thank, gave each of the four cats a pat.
"Cats outside are better. They won't suddenly turn into older cat girls," he mused, satisfying his craving for fluffiness.
As he was about to leave, he sensed that someone might be watching him.
"Watching me?"
His first thought was Death Eaters, but he quickly dismissed that idea.
The last encounter with a Death Eater had been because they were searching for Nicolas Flamel, and he doubted they'd come all this way to keep an eye on him.
He wasn't the savior, Harry Potter, and had no value to the Death Eaters for surveillance.
After rising, his expression remained unchanged. Tom stopped circling. John bid Mrs. Figg farewell and jogged away with Tom.
"Gone?"
After leaving Privet Drive, John noticed that the sensation of being watched had disappeared.
He felt puzzled. The next day, when he went for his morning run again, he sensed the same watchful presence.
This time, John saw clearly: the figure was someone wrapped up like they had a skin disease.
When he jogged past Privet Drive, the person didn't follow.
"Are they watching Harry?" he wondered, but Harry had already left, so it seemed unlikely.
The mystery deepened, and on the third day of his run, John deliberately dropped something from his pocket.
The cloaked figure saw the item glint in the sunlight and hurried over with eyes gleaming.
It was a gold Galleon, and the person grinned broadly.
"Good luck never runs out," they muttered, pocketing the coin and abandoning the chase.
That evening, John stepped out of his house under the Disillusionment Charm.
He held a piece of parchment, not the Marauder's Map, but a simpler one with a single arrow that moved as he did.
The arrow guided him to a house.
The house was miserably bare, with nothing inside but a fireplace and a makeshift tent.
John approached the fireplace, which was connected to the Floo Network.
"Let me guess, Diagon Alley."
He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and called out the name of his destination.
A burst of green flames engulfed him, and the next second he appeared in another fireplace.
With a bit of soot on his nose, John brushed off the ash and stepped out to find himself in a shop in Diagon Alley.
"If I can't find that guy, I might as well have a look around."
Thinking this, John reapplied a Disillusionment Charm and ventured out.
As night fell in Diagon Alley, the streets became less crowded. Holding his self-made tracking map, John followed the arrow's direction.
The further he went, the fewer people there were.
The remaining people wore cloaks to conceal themselves, and some were engaging in shady transactions.
Their secretive behavior suggested illegal dealings.
"Knockturn Alley?"
Before he knew it, John had entered Knockturn Alley.
This place was right next to Diagon Alley but was a completely different world.
It was a hub of illegal transactions, and the person who had been watching John was engaged in a deal with someone.
"You're too greedy. Do you know how much effort I put into getting this?"
The person had donned a cloak and was angrily berating a shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper glanced at him with a mocking tone, "Effort? This thing is just a small sneakoscope. Mundungus Fletcher, the quality of the stuff you're stealing is getting worse and worse."
The person called Mundungus Fletcher, who had been watching John, was furious as he slammed the door and left.
Despite his anger, he didn't dare to rob Borgin and Burkes directly.
He had no choice but to leave.
Mundungus headed towards the Leaky Cauldron to drown his sorrows and look for an easy mark to swindle.
"What a rotten day. Dumbledore tells me to keep an eye on that kid, leaving me no time to steal anything. Harry Potter is one thing, but why this kid?" Mundungus muttered under his breath.
He hadn't had time to carry out his plan when, while passing through a narrow alley in Knockturn Alley, he felt a wand pressed against his back.
"Don't move. If you want a hole in your gut, just ignore what I said."
Mundungus trembled, his voice shaking as he said, "Calm down. I have a few Galleons on me. You can take them."
He cursed his bad luck, thinking he had been robbed by another thief.
He tried to seize the opportunity to use his wand to escape, but before he could even touch it, the wand was snatched from his waist.
A physical disarmament.
Now he was completely doomed and didn't dare to move.
John dragged him into a corner of the alley, his voice low and threatening, "It seems you're not very honest."
Mundungus gave a nervous laugh, "No, absolutely not. I'm just really scared."
"Heh." John didn't believe a word he said. He deliberately lowered his voice, making it impossible for Mundungus to recognize him.
At this point, John realized who had sent Mundungus to watch him. It was Dumbledore.
He thought it over and concluded it was likely for his protection.
John had encountered Death Eaters in France, and perhaps because of that, Dumbledore had decided to extend the surveillance and protection given to Harry to include him as well.
John's guess was pretty close to the truth. John had inherited the knowledge legacy of Nicolas Flamel.
Not to mention what the future might hold, just the experimental manuscripts of Nicolas Flamel were enough to drive some ill-intentioned people mad.
Since John knew it wasn't a Death Eater, he had no intention of dealing with the person harshly.
However, a sudden idea struck him—he might be able to use this person to set up a business in Knockturn Alley.
Just when Mundungus thought he might end up dead in the street, John said, "Want to make some money, Mundungus Fletcher?"
"Make money?" Mundungus never imagined that someone robbing him would actually talk about paying.
He didn't understand what John meant, but he knew that if he didn't agree, things could get very bad for him.
"I have some items I need you to handle and sell. We'll split the proceeds 80-20."
While not all of John's items were dangerous, some were created during his research into dark magic.
Such items couldn't be sold in Diagon Alley and could only be offloaded in Knockturn Alley.
"You just need to answer whether you want to or not. I won't force you," John said, although the wand pressing into Mundungus's waist suggested otherwise.
Mundungus nodded vigorously as if his head would fall off.
John smiled and took out a few dangerous items from his small bag.
"In three days, I expect to see gleaming Galleons."
Leaving these words, John moved his wand away from Mundungus's waist.
Mundungus sighed in relief and hurriedly picked up his disarmed wand.
He glanced at the items, his eyes lighting up with greed, completely forgetting his previous fear.
"Such exquisite things, old Borgin will definitely be interested."
He looked around and quickly pocketed the items.
John observed everything, not leaving but watching as Mundungus headed back to Borgin and Burkes.
When Mundungus emerged, his hands were filled with Galleons.
He hesitated, contemplating hiding some of the money for himself.
However, as soon as this thought crossed his mind, he felt a familiar sharp pain in his waist.
Terrified, he quickly placed all the money down.
Taking two-tenths of the money, John said, "I told you, eighty-twenty split. If you want to continue, use this to contact me."
John tossed a piece of parchment to Mundungus, who hesitated for a moment before picking it up.
He stood there for a long time, too afraid to move, only relaxing once he was sure John had left.
Looking at the Galleons, which exceeded his earnings from thievery, he fell into deep thought.
______
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