“Your snacks are absolutely delicious, madam—”

The plump witch who sold snacks also moonlighted (had a second job) as the train car cleaner. As Percy passed by her in the narrow corridor, turning around her cleaning supplies, he nodded politely and gave a genuine smile.

Then he stepped off the train onto the platform.

The Hogwarts Express had stopped at its scheduled stop at Diagon Alley station, hissing steam into the evening air. Some passengers would disembark here while others boarding at this point would continue on to King’s Cross Station in London.

By the time Percy squeezed his way through the bustling crowd, dodging luggage trolleys, stepping around embracing families, steering through clusters of chattering wizards and finally emerged from the enclosed station into the open air, he found the sky had already turned gloomy.

A crimson sun was teetering tentatively on the distant mountaintops at the horizon, bleeding red light across the clouds like a wound.

Glancing at his watch, a serviceable but inexpensive model, not the kind his more successful colleagues wore, Percy saw it was already seven o’clock in the evening. His gaze fell on the sealed document folder tucked under his arm, the one Professor Watson had given him, and he was hesitating uncertainly on the platform.

At this late hour, most wizards would typically have gone home from work already—perhaps they’d even finished dinner by now and were sitting leisurely in their private gardens or cozy parlors, enjoying the evening breeze and a glass of firewhiskey to relax.

Percy wasn’t at all sure whether Professor Lupin would still be working at that alchemy workshop that had recently risen to such prominence in the wizarding business community, the one everyone seemed to be talking about. If he wasn’t there, if he’d already left for the day, Percy would need to make another trip tomorrow to deliver Watson’s envelope.

But tomorrow he had to work. Although he currently had absolutely nothing meaningful to do at the Ministry of Magic, skipping work totally wasn’t also his style. Besides, even though his important mission to Hogwarts had failed, he still needed to report the disappointing results to the Minister of Magic.

After a moment’s hesitation, standing uncertainly on the platform while other travelers walked around him, Percy decided to try his luck with the delivery tonight.

Truth be told, the atmosphere at home had become even more suffocating and unbearable after last night’s conflict with his father. He’d genuinely rather be out walking the streets, catching some fresh air, delaying his return as long as possible.

As night fell properly over Diagon Alley, many shops had already closed their doors for the day, their windows had turned dark. The few remaining still open with their dirty, flickering oil lamps casting pools of yellow light onto the street had little business at this hour.

The sparse pedestrians scattered on the street walked hurriedly. No one was willing to linger or window-shop anymore, not like the old days. The recent deteriorating security situation in the wizarding world was plain for all to see.

Even here in Diagon Alley which was supposedly one of the safest magical locations in Britain, after sunset, all manner of unsavory characters, criminals, and dark wizards inevitably emerged from whatever holes they hid in during daylight hours.

As for the real reason behind these security problems…

Percy’s thoughts briefly touched on this uncomfortable question, before he forcibly stopped himself from dwelling on it further.

The corner of his eye suddenly caught a dark, moving shadow emerging from a narrow alley beside him. The unexpected movement startled Percy badly. Before the figure in the concealing black cloak could get any closer, Percy had already drawn his wand and pointed it steadily at the approaching person.

His voice came out stern and sharp, “Stop right there! Don’t come any closer! Who are you? What do you want?”

“Whoa, whoa—don’t be nervous, sir, no need for that—”

The cloaked wizard appeared to be a foreigner based on his accent, which had a harsh accented tone. He had rough-looking skin on his face, and a pair of cloudy, calculating blue eyes.

After Percy forced him to stop in his tracks, the wizard showed no signs of tension or fear. Instead, he showed a fawning smile.

“I’m not a criminal, sir. I’m just a…. well, if you’re interested, I could introduce you to my merchandise?”

“Merchandise?”

Percy looked at the blue-eyed wizard with suspicion. After confirming through careful observation that the man had no intention of attacking, Percy slowly slid his wand back into his pocket.

He tilted his chin up slightly in a gesture and scrutinized the wizard of unknown origin with narrowed eyes.

“So, you’re saying you’re a merchant?”

“Your wisdom is admirable, sir—”

The blue-eyed wizard smiled obsequiously and said carefully, “So then, are you interested?”

“What are you selling?”

Percy’s tone was cautious, but his curiosity was piqued.

“Some antiques, sir. Please, if you would, come this way where we have better light!”

Percy’s failure to immediately walk away clearly excited the blue-eyed wizard. He pulled Percy over to a relatively shadowed spot by the alley wall, away from the main street, then lifted his wide black cloak to reveal a box hanging at his waist on a leather strap.

The peddler opened the box, exposing his merchandise to Percy with the air of someone revealing treasures.

The interior space of the box was far larger than its external dimensions suggested. When the box opened, display boards holding various items unfolded from their collapsed state. Within seconds, a vendor’s stall had emerged before Percy.

The display showed several gleaming suits of armor along with brooches set with what might be semi-precious stones, snuff boxes engraved with family crests, jeweled rings, pieces of exquisite painted porcelain, and various other odds and ends that might or might not be authentic antiques.

The blue-eyed wizard carefully set the box on the ground, positioning it for best effect, then came around from behind his impromptu stall and made an inviting gesture to Percy, bowing slightly.

“Quality goods at bargain prices, sir—all from once-prestigious wizarding families who’ve fallen on hard times. Sad stories, but good opportunities for the discerning buyer. Their loss is your gain, as they say.”

Percy remained silent for a long moment, his gaze falling upon and carefully examining the items displayed before him. They all looked quite genuinely aged, properly old, with that patina that couldn’t easily be faked.

Though Percy didn’t come from a wealthy family himself, the Weasleys were still counted among the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families, that controversial list.

The bloodline branching out from the name “Weasley” had long since spread throughout the entire wizarding world over centuries, and many of those distant branches and cousin families were quite well-off indeed, even wealthy.

He had accompanied his parents to visit these more affluent relatives during holidays over the years, had been shown their collections of heirlooms and antiques, and had listened with envy to their casually boastful introductions.

As such, despite his youth and current circumstances, he possessed some ability to appraise antiques, to spot fakes and assess quality.

In his assessment, not all of what this blue-eyed wizard had laid before him was outright fake but perhaps about ninety-five percent of it was basically worthless trash dressed up to look valuable. Clever forgeries and cheap reproductions mixed with a few genuine pieces to lend credibility.

“Look at the quality of this ring, sir! It comes from the Desmir family—a declining noble family in Transylvania, very old bloodline, very tragic story. This emerald ring was their treasured heirloom, passed down for generations.

I bought it directly from them for thirty Galleons, quite a sum, but it was worth it. If you think it’s nice, if you appreciate fine things, I’ll only charge you thirty-five Galleons—”

Percy silently examined the ring.

The blue-eyed wizard’s words were the typical mixture of half-truth, and half-lies.

The ring might indeed have been purchased from a declining noble family experiencing financial difficulties, but when this peddler acquired it, there was probably only the plain metal band.

The dull yellow band likely did contain a certain proportion of goblin-wrought silver and was indeed worth quite a bit based on the metalwork alone. But the gem set in the band was totally fake.

The blue-eyed wizard worked hard to introduce Percy enthusiastically to the ring’s supposed history, spinning a rich tale of romance and tragedy, but suddenly—

“What’s your name?”

Percy abruptly interrupted the blue-eyed wizard’s chatter.

“Thudan Colcant—”

The blue-eyed wizard answered instinctively, automatically. But after revealing his identity, he immediately came to his senses and looked at Percy with wariness.

“Why do you ask, sir?”

“Well then, Mr. Colcant—”

Percy drew himself up to his full height, using his tall height to look down at the shorter wizard with an expression of coldness and aristocratic arrogance that he’d learned from watching other Ministry officials.

“I assume you have a proper license issued by the Ministry of Magic?”

“License?”

Colcant froze, his smile vanished instantly. Then his entire expression turned cold and hard.

“What’s that got to do with you?”

“Oh, what a fortunate coincidence—”

Percy’s nostrils flared with satisfaction.

“I happen to work for the Ministry of Magic.”

Colcant squinted as he slowly sized up the thin young upstart before him.

“You’re with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, then?”

“That’s none of your concern—”

Percy’s face reddened slightly at the assumption. He pressed his lips together in a tight line and continued in a low authoritative voice,

“According to the law, Mr. Colcant, if you don’t have the relevant sales permit license, which clearly you don’t, you’ll need to pay a fine to the Ministry. If you can’t pay the fine, you’ll be arrested and sent to Azkaban for illegal trading. Hey, wait! I’m not finished—”

Colcant completely ignored Percy’s official-sounding reprimand. Upon learning that he’d approached and tried to sell to an actual Ministry official, he immediately waved his wand.

All the merchandise exposed before Percy jumped back into the box as if alive, folding and collapsing. He then rehung the box tightly on his belt, swept his cloak around himself, and turned to leave without another word.

“Hey, I’m talking to you! Stop!”

Percy’s face showed anger now, flushed with indignation at being so blatantly ignored and disrespected. He reached out to grab Colcant’s shoulder but—

Whoosh!

The black robe swirled as a wand emerged from beneath the concealing cloak in a flash, pointing threateningly at Percy’s eyes. In Colcant’s blue eyes there was absolutely no reverence for a Ministry official instead, they glinted with a cold, sinister dangerous light.

“I’d advise you very not to cause unnecessary trouble for yourself and your family, boy!”

Faced with the trembling wand tip hovering inches from his face and the suddenly vicious expression on Colcant’s face, Percy first froze completely, his body went stiff with shock. But then, rising from somewhere deep inside his body, a surge of hot anger welled up.

His eyes turned sharp and bright with adrenaline, he stared hard at Colcant’s threatening face, his mind was racing, calculating rapidly the possibility of dodging a first spell, of drawing his own wand fast enough.

But before Percy could act on any plan, a red streak of light suddenly shot past his right shoulder like a comet. After searing a few of his ginger hairs with its heat, the spell precisely struck Colcant’s raised wrist.

The peddler was immediately sent flying back as if he’d been punched brutally in the face by an invisible giant!

Bang!

Colcant crashed heavily to the cobblestones and didn’t get up again, didn’t even twitch. The box containing his contraband smashed hard against the alley wall and burst open on impact, its contents were scattering everywhere in a glittering explosion.

Meanwhile, his wand flew through the air, spinning end over end back over Percy’s shoulder, and landed neatly in someone else’s waiting hand.

“Bah, scum!!”

A familiar voice spat with disgust.

Sirius strode confidently toward the unconscious Colcant. He used his booted toe to roughly flip the man face-up, checking him without much gentleness.

After confirming Colcant was thoroughly out cold, Sirius’s wand tip shot out thin, glowing ropes that bound the criminal tightly from shoulders to ankles.

After examining the scattered antiques on the ground for a few moments, nudging some with his foot, Sirius snorted coldly and waved his wand again. The items obediently returned to the box, sorting themselves.

Finally, he turned to look at the completely dumbfounded Percy standing frozen in shock and smiled, shrugging casually.

“To borrow a phrase from Moody, Percy: constant vigilance. Things aren’t nearly as peaceful as they used to be in the old days. Can’t trust anyone these days, especially not in dark alleys.”

“Sirius?”

Percy took several sharp, steadying breaths, his heart still was racing from the confrontation. His hands were trembling slightly with residual adrenaline.

“What are you doing here… Oh, are you on official patrol duty to maintain order?”

“Actually, like you, I’m already off work for the day—”

Sirius stood casually with his foot resting on Colcant’s bound back, keeping the criminal pinned down just in case. He lifted the cloth-wrapped lunchbox in his other hand, showing it.

“I came to bring dinner to—ahem, well—to Remus. Just left the Leaky Cauldron with takeaway. I happened to see you from across the street. Speaking of which, Percy, what are you doing wandering around Diagon Alley this time of evening?”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep