"The old Dutton Clinic just passed by," Watson Wake remarked, his tone laced with a hint of vigilance as his wife maneuvered the car past the mentioned dental office. He couldn't help but clutch his pockets, recalling a previous conversation where he had jokingly said that old Dutton pulled teeth as if he were slaughtering a sheep.
Mrs. Wick, usually the epitome of dignity, appeared visibly impatient today, a stark contrast to her usual demeanor. Watson, feeling the car seat beneath him stick uncomfortably, reached out and retrieved a fashion magazine wedged under it. The magazine boasted about Louis Vuitton's latest fashion release, and Watson's concern about his toothache momentarily gave way to the impending doom of his wallet. In his mind, the cost of a tooth extraction paled in comparison to the price of appeasing his wife's taste for luxury.
As the car halted on Oxford Street, Watson's fears about his financial fate were confirmed. His wife, who had earlier been adamant about getting his tooth extracted, stepped out of the car with a determined stride, leaving Watson and their son, John, exchanging bewildered glances.
"Let's find a clinic to extract the tooth," Watson suggested, his voice tinged with resignation as he awkwardly shifted from the passenger seat to the driver's seat. John eyed his father skeptically, questioning his ability to drive in his current state.
"Or perhaps you could try? Maybe your magic could help with the extraction?" Watson mused, half-jokingly, as he contemplated his inability to sway either his wife or son.
John merely shrugged, his thoughts drifting to the inevitable bank statement that would arrive the following day, detailing their financial doom.
After driving aimlessly around London, they finally arrived at a dentist's office named "Granger," a name that John recognized as being the same as his friend Hermione's surname. He mused about the coincidence, wishing he could capture the moment with a photo to show Hermione.
The clinic was modest in size, with a clean and simple waiting area occupied by several children and adults. The sight of one child screaming in pain was enough to unsettle anyone. As John and Watson waited, a young woman in the waiting area took notice of Watson's composed and successful demeanor. Recently divorced and not keen on spending her nights alone, she saw in Watson the archetype of a British gentleman and decided to make her move.
However, her attempts to engage Watson and then John in conversation were met with indifference, especially after John's curt response to her inquiry about his father's mood.
Their interaction was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Granger, Hermione's father, who recognized John immediately. With his thick hair and friendly demeanor, Mr. Granger was a stark contrast to the middle-aged men John was accustomed to seeing. Mistaking John's visit as an intention to see Hermione, Mr. Granger was quickly corrected and informed about Watson's toothache.
Recognizing the Wakes, Mr. Granger warmly ushered them into the clinic, eager to assist. The young woman in the waiting area watched resentfully as the two men were led away, lamenting the scarcity of good men.
Inside, Mr. Granger's professional demeanor shone through as he prepared to address Watson's dental woes, proving that in some cases, a familiar face can make all the difference. Relieved, he offered a wry smile. "She visits the clinic daily, attempting to engage me in conversation," he confessed, glancing around guiltily before whispering, "Please, don't mention this to my wife; she's quite sensitive about these matters." Watson nodded in understanding, clapping Mr. Granger on the shoulder. "It's a tough situation. Being too charming can sometimes be a curse," he empathized. This exchange bonded them instantly, transforming them into fast friends.
John, observing the camaraderie between the two, couldn't help but interject with a hint of sarcasm, "Dad, are your teeth no longer bothering you?" His comment was a gentle nudge, aimed at bringing his father's attention back to the matter at hand. Watson, reminded of his discomfort, winced, acknowledging the persistent ache.
As Mr. Granger attended to Watson's dental woes, John meandered through the clinic, his attention caught by a newspaper detailing the upheaval in a once-dominant nation, now fragmented and chaotic. "It seems Grandpa was also caught up in these affairs," John mused, recalling his grandfather's notable local influence and the government's potential interest in leveraging it for stability.
Lost in thought, John was startled by a familiar voice. "John!" He turned to see Hermione, her arms burdened with an impressively thick book, rushing towards him. The book landed on the table with a thud, signaling her arrival. "You should have told me you were coming," she chided, expressing her disappointment at his unannounced visit, especially since she had invited friends over, hoping to bridge the gap between her wizarding and Muggle worlds.
John gestured towards his father, explaining the dental emergency caused by an excess of chocolate. Hermione, puzzled by John's casual demeanor, suggested diving into their next year's textbooks, a proposal that made John visibly uncomfortable. "There's no need to rush things," he advised, trying to ease her academic fervor. He illustrated his point by magically rejuvenating a wilted lily, demonstrating the interconnectedness of knowledge and the simplicity it brings to understanding magic.
Hermione, momentarily sidetracked by the magic demonstration, ventured to ask about the relevance of the History of Magic, to which John humorously conceded its limited applicability. Their exchange, filled with light-hearted banter, underscored their deepening friendship.
Meanwhile, Watson's newfound bond with Mr. Granger flourished, their camaraderie raising eyebrows and sparking rumors of a rejuvenated zest for life. Watson's announcement of an extended stay in London, including plans to play golf with Mr. Granger, only fueled John's suspicions about the nature of their friendship, leaving him to wonder about the adventures that awaited these two unlikely companions. Would they really think that? The outside world often labeled them as coming from a corrupt country, so perhaps they should. However, staying in London had its perks, saving John some trouble. He was on his way to Knockturn Alley, which suited his plans perfectly.
Silverhands Johnny's store had emerged just the previous year, yet it had rapidly grown into a major establishment, surpassing Bojinbok in merely a year. Mundungus Fletcher always considered himself indispensable, even more so than the elusive Lord Silverhand, who had yet to make an appearance. With such a mindset, Mundungus's confidence soared, and he gradually began to see himself as the true master of the shop.
"Shelby, you despicable cur, I'd better not catch you here again!" Mundungus's primary grievance was with Tommy Shelby, the security captain who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and never showed Mundungus any respect. This lack of acknowledgment irked Mundungus to no end, fueling his desire to oust Tommy from his position.
Tommy Shelby merely cast a cold glance at Mundungus. The audacity of this petty thief to raise his voice! Little did Mundungus know, the success of Johnny Silverhand's was largely due to the connections of the mysterious lord. Without such influence, the Ministry of Magic's higher-ups and the pure-blood families would never have allowed the shop to thrive. Unfortunately, Mundungus was oblivious to this fact, ranting like a petulant child.
As Mundungus continued his tirade, a figure entered the shop. Mundungus, still seething, turned to glare at the newcomer. A silver mask caught his eye, complemented by a green robe adorned with exquisite lace. The figure's slender frame was elegantly dressed in a slim waistcoat suit, with a golden watch chain adding a touch of sophistication and luxury.
Mundungus stared at the visitor. Encountering mysterious individuals was not uncommon in Knockturn Alley, but something about this one seemed different. Angrily, he demanded, "What do you want?"
The response came, muffled by the silver mask, yet Mundungus could detect a hint of disdain. "What?" he snapped, his patience wearing thin.
"Get out of my shop if you're not buying anything," Mundungus barked.
"Your shop? Mundungus, it seems you've forgotten to whom this place truly belongs," the masked figure retorted, their voice tinged with familiarity.
Mundungus's mind raced as he tried to place the voice. His eyes widened in realization, and he gasped, "You're Lord Johnny Silverhand?"
The presence of the mysterious lord in his shop was a revelation to Mundungus. The realization that he had been so boldly challenging the very person responsible for the shop's success was a humbling moment. The dynamics within the walls of Silverhands Johnny's store were about to shift dramatically, all under the watchful gaze of Lord Johnny Silverhand.
_________
If you are tired of reading I also have this converted to an audio novel on my youtube
https://www.youtube.com/@NovelAudioForge/featured
Direct Link to playlist
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_Hg-qsW4rM&list=PLKskshYG-OcPTR4-Nw7IWFEBZm07D8pBV&ab_channel=NovelAudioForge