Newt led the way up the creaky wooden stairs, his footsteps echoing softly through the dim hallway. They passed several rooms before stopping in front of one with a brass number on the door: 306.
"This is it," Newt said, pulling out an old, slightly tarnished key. He turned it in the lock with a satisfying click, and the door swung open.
David followed his grandfather inside, his eyes widening at the sight of a spacious living room furnished with a mix of tables, chairs, and plush sofas. Cabinets lined the walls, and two wooden doors stood on either side of the room, likely leading to the bedrooms.
David sank into one of the sofas, his body easing into the soft cushions. After a moment, he looked over at Newt. "Grandpa, where's Tver?"
Newt grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't you see him?"
David blinked in confusion. "Wait... that old man from downstairs? That was him?"
Newt's grin widened, and he gave a small, satisfied nod. David leaned back, shaking his head. He never would have guessed. Tver's acting had been flawless.
Just then, John and Charlie flopped onto the sofas beside him, their faces a mix of exhaustion and curiosity. David stood up and wandered over to the window, peering down at the bustling street below. People moved in waves, their laughter and chatter floating up to the third floor.
A sharp knock at the door broke the quiet.
"Hello, it's what you just ordered," came a polite voice from the other side.
David hurried over, unlocking and opening the door. Tver stood there, a sly smile on his face, two large trays floating effortlessly beside him. David stepped aside, letting him in. As Tver entered, the door closed quietly behind him.
"Tver, it's been too long!" Newt exclaimed, his demeanor changing completely. He approached Tver and pulled him into a warm hug, a stark contrast to his formal demeanor downstairs.
Tver laughed, his eyes crinkling. "Too long, indeed. If I hadn't heard about that 'R Organization,' I would've thought you were waiting for my funeral to visit me!"
Newt chuckled, patting Tver on the back. "Looking at you now, I'm not so sure who'll attend whose funeral first."
Turning to David, Newt gestured proudly. "This is my grandson, David."
David stepped forward, smiling politely. "Grandpa Tver."
Tver's face softened, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he looked David up and down. "Well, well! Much better looking than you were at his age, Newt! And certainly not as... clueless."
Newt gave Tver a playful shove, then introduced the others. "These two are my... let's call them students. Charlie Weasley and John Smith."
Charlie and John exchanged quick greetings, which Tver acknowledged with a nod and a smile.
Newt's demeanor grew more serious. "Alright, old man. Any new findings?"
Tver's face shifted, his expression turning thoughtful. He directed the trays to the table and waved his hand, inviting them to help themselves to the food. "After I sent that letter, I stayed in my shop to observe. Sure enough, a suspicious fellow showed up, lurking around like he didn't want to be seen. I don't know if he's connected to the R Organization, but I arranged for you to stay opposite him. You'll have a good view."
Newt's eyes narrowed. "Is he there now?"
Tver shook his head. "He left this morning, but his things are still in the room. He'll be back."
Newt nodded slowly, his mind already turning over a plan.
Satisfied, Tver clapped his hands together. "Alright, that's my part done. If you need me, you know where to find me." He turned to David, reaching into his pocket. "Here, a little gift."
He handed David a delicate pendant—a tear-shaped crystal hanging from a thin silver chain. It shimmered faintly in the sunlight streaming through the window, giving the illusion of a tiny fish swimming inside.
David's eyes widened. "Thank you!"
Tver grinned, his hand landing on David's shoulder. "Good kid. A much better version of your grandfather."
He threw a teasing glance at Newt before heading for the door. "I'm off. This place feels too cramped with all you young folks around." And just like that, Tver was gone.
Newt chuckled, shaking his head. "That old rascal."
David approached his grandfather, holding up the pendant. "Grandpa, look at this."
Newt's face softened, a flicker of admiration crossing his eyes. "Well, I'll be... That's a powerful alchemy charm. It's a protective amulet—will block a few spells for you. It's like wearing invisible armor."
David's mouth fell open. "Should I give it back? It's too precious."
Newt laughed, patting David's shoulder. "Nah. Tver wouldn't have given it to you unless he wanted you to have it. And besides, making him part with one of his treasures is a rare treat."
David hesitated but then clasped the pendant around his neck, feeling its faint warmth against his skin. "I'll have to visit Grandpa Tver again someday..."
The sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and gold. Yet, the man across the hall still hadn't returned.
Restless, David glanced at his grandfather. "Grandpa, can John and I go out for a bit?"
Newt waved his hand dismissively. "Go on. I'll keep watch. If he shows up, I'll let you know."
Charlie joined them, and together, the three headed downstairs. Stepping outside, David was immediately drawn to the vibrant crowd gathering a little way down the street.
"Where should we go first?" he asked. Charlie and John grinned, eager for adventure. Without another word, David led the way toward the commotion.
Through the gaps in the crowd, David saw two wizards in vibrant, mismatched robes standing in the center of a makeshift stage. Their wands were pressed to their lips, and with a deep breath, they blew.
A roaring flame burst from each wand, surging toward the center of the stage. The flames collided, spiraled, and then coalesced into a massive fireball. The crowd gasped in awe.
With a dramatic flourish, one of the wizards stepped forward, his arms raised. "Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for the grand finale?"
The audience erupted into applause and cheers, their enthusiasm echoing off the buildings. With a flick of his wrist, the fireball trembled, then burst apart. From the swirling embers emerged two monkeys made entirely of flame. They leaped into the air, chasing each other around the stage.
The crowd went wild, coins clinking as they were tossed into plates at the performers' feet. Charlie and John eagerly added their own silver coins to the pile.
David watched, his eyes wide with amazement. The flaming monkeys tumbled and played, their fiery tails flicking dangerously close to the spectators, who only cheered louder.
For a moment, David forgot about the mission, the R Organization, and the man they were supposed to be watching. Here, under the fading sunset and surrounded by laughter and magic, he was just a boy—awed, amazed, and utterly alive.