Last night, it rained.
A dense, continuous downpour that lasted for two or three hours.
By sunrise, Diagon Alley's ground was still very damp, and green moss crawled between the corners and cracks of the bricks.
Wade pulled down his hood and walked along the street. His worn boots stepped on the moss, leaving green footprints on the dark grey flagstones.
At this moment, he looked like a middle-aged man: thin-faced, with dark circles under his eyes, and a wizard's robe covered in patches, appearing utterly destitute.
There weren't many customers in Diagon Alley yet, nothing compared to Lockhart's new book signing yesterday.
Some shop owners were directing brooms and rags to clean their premises. Seeing Wade pass by, they merely glanced at him lazily, showing no interest in greeting him.
A few children were running and jumping in the street, playing, and some were already glued to the broomstick shop window, gazing enraptured at the latest Firebolt 2001 inside.
Next to the broomstick shop was a small White Stag Beverage shop. A teenager was tidying the shelves, simultaneously shouting at the children:
"Be careful, don't bump into anyone."
"Got it!"
The child yelled back.
But promising was one thing; doing it was another.
With few people on the street, the children became a bit reckless in their play.
One child, yelling back at his friend while running forward, accidentally bumped into a black-robed wizard on the roadside.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to!"
He quickly lowered his head to apologize. Before he could even lift his head, he felt an eagle-claw-like hand grip the back of his neck.
"You bump into someone, and a simple apology is supposed to be enough?"
Dry, bony fingers gripped his neck from behind, and a sinister voice sounded ill-intentioned.
The teenager from the beverage shop saw this and hurried out:
"I'm sorry, that's my younger brother. I apologize on his behalf... Uh, can I offer you a drink?"
He looked up at the wizard and immediately felt a chill.
The pale-faced wizard's eyes seemed to glow green, his cheekbones protruded, a grotesque scar marred the corner of his mouth, and an eerie scent emanated from him.
He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, a chilling smile forming at the corner of his mouth.
"I don't need a free drink."
He said in a hoarse voice, "If you want to show your sincerity, then show it... How about doing me a small favor?"
The teenager's scalp tingled, but he dared not retreat rashly. He swallowed, asking, "...What favor?"
"How about delivering a letter for me?" the wizard asked, pulling out a thick letter.
The teenager glanced at it. The address on the envelope was nearby, not a place like Knockturn Alley that made people's blood run cold.
He hesitated, then looked at his younger brother, who was being held by the wizard and barely suppressing tears. He took the envelope with both hands.
"Alright, do you have any other instructions?"
The wizard's chilling gaze swept over both of them. He sneered,
"The recipient has a terrible temper. If you bring your brother, it might make him a little more lenient with you."
Hearing this, the teenager actually felt a sense of relief.
If that was the case, it made sense that the wizard didn't want to deliver the letter himself.
"Also," the wizard released the younger brother and added, "the moment you took this letter, you were cursed by me."
As the teenager's face changed, he chuckled, "If you don't deliver the letter in time, I can't guarantee what will happen to you."
The teenager took a deep breath: "I'll deliver the letter on time."
"Good, I hope everything goes smoothly for you." The wizard gave a grotesque laugh, turned, and walked away.
The teenager's lips were tight. He patted his brother's head with his free hand and said, "I'm going to deliver the letter. You hurry home."
"No, I'm coming with you!" his brother cried, whimpering.
"It's just delivering a letter, there's no danger. I'll be back soon."
"No, I'm coming with you!"
The little boy didn't understand what had just happened, only that he had caused trouble for his brother, and he cried in fear.
And he firmly remembered what that person had said—if he brought him, the recipient wouldn't get angry at his brother.
The teenager tried to persuade him for a while but couldn't. He finally left a note on the counter, closed the shop door, and walked towards the address on the letter with his brother.
—If all goes well, he should be back in a few minutes.
He thought optimistically.
And his father had gone to Gringotts to withdraw money; he should be back soon. Seeing the note on the counter, he would definitely come looking for them.
The teenager, walking away, didn't see that the wizard quickly returned, pushed open the shop door, entered, and then came out a moment later, heading in the direction the teenager had left.
A middle-aged man resting on a bench by the roadside sighed, slowly stood up, and watched the direction the group had gone.
The teenager held the envelope, comparing it to the street numbers of the shops, and gradually entered a secluded alley.
He walked around the block but couldn't find the address on the letter.
"Brother..." The little boy gripped his hand.
"What's wrong?" the teenager asked.
"I'm a little scared..." the little boy said, his voice tearful.
The teenager looked at the narrow alley and the closed doors on both sides. He immediately turned around, deciding, "Let's go back first and have Dad bring us to deliver the letter."
But they had only walked two steps when their bodies stiffened.
The wizard who had given them the letter stood at the alley's entrance.
"Naughty children, not keeping your promise."
He said in a voice that sounded like a scraped throat, "You want to go home before the letter has been delivered."
The teenager swiftly drew his wand, shielding his brother behind him, and tried to explain, "I didn't break my promise, I just couldn't find the place."
The wizard walked towards them, saying, "I know the place. Let me take you there."
"You can deliver it yourself!"
The little boy suddenly shouted, "We're going home! Dad's waiting for us!"
"No, he won't wait for you. He doesn't even know where you've gone."
The wizard threw a crumpled piece of paper at their feet. The teenager looked down and saw his own handwriting on the paper.
It was the note he had left for his father.
He recoiled two steps as if terrified, then his wand suddenly twitched: "Stupefy!"
A red jet of light shot towards the wizard. He hadn't expected this seemingly young child to know a stunning spell, and he hastily lunged to the ground!
The spell grazed his hair and hit the wall.
"Run!"
The teenager didn't realize his spell hadn't hit. He grabbed his brother and ran, when he suddenly heard a voice: "Petrificus Totalus!"
Both of them stiffened and fell.
An aged witch had appeared in front of them, slowly putting away her wand.
The witch let out a grating laugh, like glass being scraped, and said, "Little cubs have sharp claws, don't they?"
The wizard, wiping blood from his nose and muttering curses, walked over from behind. He kicked the petrified teenager, sending him rolling, then aimed his wand at his heart, and said coldly, "Crucio!"
"Bang!"
Amidst a loud bang, blood suddenly burst from the wizard's chest, and he was sent flying backward.