Inside the pub, Mundungus sat in a corner, sipping at the cheapest beer one mouthful at a time.
Perhaps because Aberforth felt a little guilty after beating him up, or perhaps because he had decided to forgive him, the pub owner was allowing the thief back into the bar.
The man in black robes swept his gaze around the room, paused when he spotted Mundungus, then walked over.
"This seat's taken," Mundungus said without even looking up when he noticed someone approaching.
The black-robed man ignored him and sat down opposite him anyway.
"Are you deaf? I said this seat's taken," Mundungus snapped impatiently.
"Is that so? Who would come have a drink with an unlucky little thief?" The man's hoarse voice gave Mundungus a start.
"Damn it, can't you talk properly? You've put me right off my drink." Mundungus cursed under his breath. "All right, spit it out. What do you want with me? And let me make this clear first. I'm not doing shady work these days. Don't come to me with anything illegal."
Compared with before, Mundungus had become much more cautious. There was still greed in the way he looked at people, but now it was mixed with a good deal more wariness.
"It's a small matter," the black-robed man said. "You know the Shrieking Shack, right? Tonight, I need you to go there, meet someone, and hand over an item..."
"Hold on, hold on, mate." Mundungus's eyes widened. "I already told you, I'm not doing anything illegal."
Lately, Mundungus wanted as little trouble as possible. The last time, in order to get those werewolf wizards off his back, he had not only thrown away a good chunk of his savings to satisfy those greedy wolf pups, but had even leaked quite a few of his own little secrets.
Those were secrets that could have sent him straight to Azkaban. And Mundungus had no confidence that he could escape Azkaban the way Sirius Black had.
So recently he had wanted to keep his head down and stay honest, lest he get too flashy and attract the werewolves' attention again.
Of course he knew the Shrieking Shack. It was the famous haunted house, deserted by almost everyone. What kind of decent person arranged meetings in a place like that?
"Relax. It's nothing illegal, and it's simple. Just hand one item to the other person." The black-robed man spoke calmly. "Which is why the price isn't high either. Five Galleons."
"Five Galleons?" Mundungus's expression shifted.
It was not exactly a small amount, but it was not all that much either. Still within the range of something safe.
So this job probably really was not dangerous.
Even so, haggling was still haggling.
"Then why don't you go yourself?" Mundungus demanded. "It's not something dodgy, is it?"
"The item is special. That's all. There's nothing dodgy about it." The black-robed man shook his head.
"Then why don't you deliver it yourself?"
"Because I have urgent business," the man replied in an unhurried tone, his calm composure stirring a wave of irritation in Mundungus.
People who acted as though everything was under their control really were insufferable.
Mundungus's expression changed, and he said solemnly, "No. Five Galleons is too little. At least... twenty Galleons."
He doubled the price twice over in one go.
"Deal."
The black-robed man did not hesitate in the slightest. He accepted immediately.
Damn it. I still asked for too little.
Mundungus cursed to himself and gave the black-robed man a suspicious look. "Let's be clear first. I'm not doing anything extra. I'm only delivering the item."
"Of course. Exactly as I said," the black-robed man replied coolly.
"What am I delivering?" Mundungus asked casually.
By now, he was already planning to take the money and not do the job. This suspicious fellow had said he was pressed for time, which probably meant he would have no way to verify whether the item had been delivered at all.
"This."
The black-robed man raised a hand and placed a rolled parchment on the table.
As his arm moved, his sleeve slipped back slightly. It was only for an instant before he pulled it down again, but Mundungus still caught sight of that arm, withered like a dead branch.
The hairs on Mundungus's body stood on end. He instinctively looked up, only to meet the raven's eyes.
The raven's gaze seemed almost mocking, as though it had seen straight through his thoughts.
Damn it, what kind of creepy things are these?
Mundungus unconsciously looked away from the raven and picked up the parchment.
Trying to change the subject, he asked offhandedly, "Can I have a look?"
He had expected the black-robed man to refuse. Instead, the man seemed surprisingly generous.
"Of course. Go ahead."
Mundungus paused. It felt off, but he opened the parchment anyway.
It was covered in tangled lines. At first glance, it looked like nothing more than random scribbles.
But the more closely he looked, the more it felt as though some kind of mystery was hidden in those lines.
He could not tell what exactly was drawn there, but it clearly was not meaningless trash. It seemed to conceal some sort of secret.
"All right, I'll take the job. Pay up," Mundungus said, still studying the parchment.
The black-robed man nodded and placed five Galleons on the table.
"Why only five? We agreed on twenty!" Mundungus glared at him.
"Your reputation is only worth this much," the black-robed man said slowly. "The rest will be paid by the other person."
"Damn it..." Mundungus cursed under his breath. He wanted to raise the price again, but somehow the words would not come out. All he could do was comfort himself with the thought that this was not a bad price. Even without the rest, five Galleons was still five Galleons.
He was only delivering an item, after all...
Mundungus himself did not notice that his thinking had changed. He had originally planned to take the money and not do the job, but somewhere along the way he had suddenly changed his mind.
"Fine. Consider it my good deed for the day." As he spoke, Mundungus tucked the Galleons into his purse, then stuffed the parchment haphazardly into his pocket as well.
"Very good. Then I'll leave it to you..."
The black-robed man seemed to let out a small laugh, then stood up and left the pub.
Mundungus stared at his retreating back in puzzlement, muttered "weirdo" under his breath, and went back to drinking.
Night fell quickly. Drunk out of his mind, Mundungus collapsed face-down on the table and lost consciousness.
The pub was lively at that hour, full of drunken fools making a scene, so a passed-out Mundungus did not attract much attention.
Then, suddenly, Mundungus pushed himself upright from the table and staggered toward the door.
"Mundungus, done drinking and heading home? Don't go dying in a ditch somewhere." A wizard entering the pub called out to him, but got no reply.
Watching Mundungus pass by, the wizard scratched his head, wondering if he had seen that right.
Just now, Mundungus had been walking with his eyes closed, like a sleepwalker.
Meanwhile, in the Hufflepuff common room at Hogwarts, Leonard sat by the fireplace, celebrating the start of term with his classmates while also thinking about the connection between runes and magic.
"I wonder whether the Unforgivable Curses can be expressed through runes?"