"Hello… you must be Mr. Fenwick?"
Inside the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, the moment Avada—operating under the alias Nathan Clarke—stepped through the door, he spotted the man he had arranged to meet. The man, in his early thirties and somewhat thin, immediately stood up and waved to him.
"You must be Mr. Nathan Clarke?"
"I'm Benji Fenwick. A pleasure to meet you," the man said with a polite smile. "To be honest, you're a bit younger than I imagined."
"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Fenwick."
After shaking hands, Nathan sat down across from him.
"Just to be safe, let me confirm once more," Nathan said calmly. "You'd like Anti-Apparition wards installed on one of your residences and the surrounding area—roughly half an acre in total. Is that correct?"
As he spoke, he took out a parchment from his pocket and handed it over.
"This is my Ministry certification in spatial magic. You're welcome to verify it. In addition, I've already helped three other clients who placed ads in the paper install Anti-Apparition wards, so you can rest assured about my experience."
"Wizarding Examinations Authority certification, overall rating E+…"Fenwick examined the document, then handed it back. "It looks good. In that case, if there are no other questions, shall we head out now?"
"Certainly," Nathan replied as he stood. "Then I'll trouble you to take us there via Side-Along Apparition."
"No problem."
Fenwick extended his arm. Nathan gripped it firmly, and with a sharp crack, the two vanished from the streets of Hogsmeade—reappearing a moment later beside a manor standing quietly by a tranquil lakeshore.
"This place has a lovely setting," Nathan remarked once he had steadied himself.
"Thank you," Fenwick said with a polite smile. "This is my home. Here's the Ministry permit—you can check it."
He produced a stamped piece of parchment. Nathan briefly verified the magical seal before returning it.
"What area would you like the wards to cover?"
"I'd like the boundary to run from here to the edge of the lakeside garden over there, and from that hillside to the small shed at the southern end—using those four points as the perimeter. Would that work?"
"I'll need to take some measurements."
Nathan pulled a broom from his pocket, mounted it, and rose into the air. From above, he surveyed the terrain, measured distances with magic, then descended again to check whether any magical factors might interfere with the wards' operation.
Only after completing all of this did he stow his wand and turn back to Fenwick.
"To fully cover the area you specified, the wards will cost approximately two hundred and twenty Galleons, and require two to three days of work."
"That's a perfectly acceptable price," Fenwick said, nodding. "We can look over the contract now. Do I need to pay a deposit?"
"Yes. This isn't a magical contract, so a deposit is required—twenty Galleons," Nathan explained. "This is the template. Please review it."
Magical contracts were not something to be signed lightly. They engraved binding imprints directly onto the signer's mental or life force, and too many such imprints could disrupt those systems, causing lasting discomfort until they faded with time. For matters like this, a standard contract marked by wand-signature and financial penalties was more than sufficient.
"…Everything looks fine."
Fenwick read through the contract quickly, filled in the required information, and left his magical mark alongside Nathan's on both copies before promptly paying the deposit.
"Tomorrow I'll need a full day to prepare the materials," Nathan added as he put away his copy of the contract along with the deposit. "If it's convenient for you, we can meet again at the Three Broomsticks at nine o'clock the morning after tomorrow, and Apparate here the same way to begin the installation."
"That works for me," Fenwick replied without hesitation.
"However, Mr. Fenwick—if you'll forgive my curiosity," Nathan continued in a casual tone, "I've taken several commissions to install Anti-Apparition wards recently. From what I can tell, including yourself, none of you have just moved or carried out major renovations. You're all simply adding wards to long-established homes—and there are many similar ads in the paper. Has something happened in Britain lately?"
Fenwick paused briefly, then shook his head.
"I'm afraid I wouldn't know. I've lived here for years, and nothing obvious has happened recently."
Nathan nodded lightly, then added conversationally, "You might not know this, but I only moved back from Australia a little over two weeks ago. I only obtained my legal status here last week, so I'm not very familiar with the local situation. That's why I wanted to be careful."
"Ah, I see," Fenwick said, visibly relaxing. "That explains it."
He adjusted his collar and continued, "To be honest, I only did this because a few friends strongly recommended it. They wrote to me, or brought it up whenever we met, insisting that I install Anti-Apparition wards. They talked at length about the benefits, and even brought up historical cases where people were killed after enemies Apparated straight into their homes."
He gave a wry smile.
"Frankly, I almost thought they'd taken some kind of advertising commission."
"Did they ever explain why they suddenly became so insistent?" Nathan asked.
"I did ask," Fenwick replied, shaking his head. "But they only said it was common sense, or that they'd been frightened by similar stories back when we were students. There was never a clear reason."
"Then what ultimately convinced you to go through with it?" Nathan asked.
"Market research?" Fenwick joked, then turned serious. "Mostly because I realized they weren't wrong. And because my wife and son really do need protection. On top of that, there's been some… rather extreme sentiment toward Pure-bloods circulating lately. I'd rather be cautious."
"You have a son?" Nathan asked, as if making small talk.
"He just turned seven," Fenwick replied. "Still a long way from Hogwarts."
After chatting a bit longer, Nathan smoothly brought the conversation to a close. They said their goodbyes, and he Apparated away, returning to Diagon Alley.
This client also has a young child…That makes four clients in total—and three of them have children who are still very young.
He strolled along the street, pretending to browse the shops, but inwardly his expression had turned grim.
Coincidence? Or is something really wrong?If something is wrong, why is there no reaction at all on the surface? And why didn't their friends just tell them directly what was going on?
"Hoo!"
Suddenly, the cry of an owl broke his train of thought. A moment later, an envelope drifted down from above, landing neatly in his hand…
(End of Chapter)