An oppressive silence filled the shop. On one side of the counter stood a calm, smiling Victor, and on the other, a stunned Ben, whose gaze darted back and forth between the boy and the parchment.
Finally, unable to withstand the absurdity of it all, Old Ben let out a heavy sigh and slowly lowered himself onto a stool behind the counter.
— Haaa... kid, I don't think I quite understand what's going on. In sixty years of my career and twenty years of running this cursed shop, I've never encountered anything like this. — He had seen it all: there was even a case where two rival gangs put out contracts on each other and hunted one another down, killing them off one by one until they were reduced to a tiny group and were forced to negotiate and cancel the orders, eventually merging so as not to lose their standing in the criminal world. — Но to have a child, hunted by the entire shadow network, just show up in my shop and grin insolently... This, I swear by Merlin, is a first. — Ben shook his gray head wearily. — You'd better leave here, and as quickly as possible.
Victor adopted a thoughtful look and shook his head categorically.
— No. I've searched for this place for far too long. You know, I had to torture three people today just to get here. I was quite surprised to find that not everyone in Knockturn Alley knows about your hidden sanctuary.
Old Ben snorted disdainfully.
— If everyone knew about this place, I'd have spent my final days in Azkaban long ago—and very unpleasant days they would have been.
— Very insightful, — Victor agreed.
A thick silence settled over the shop once more as they studied each other.
Suddenly, Old Ben rubbed his eyes vigorously with both hands, as if trying to wipe away a mirage. For a second, he thought he had finally gone senile and was just imagining this insane scene. But, opening his eyes again, he saw Victor still standing before him, perfectly composed.
— Didn't help? — Victor asked calmly.
Old Ben shook his head tiredly.
— You're Victor, and you're twelve years old?
Victor nodded calmly.
— Yes, I'm Victor, and I'm... — he suddenly frowned, realizing he didn't know his current age. — I don't know when my birthday is, but yeah, I'm around eleven or twelve. And yes, I'm the one with the contract on my head. I'm worth twenty thousand Galleons.
— How did you even get here? How did you find out about this place?
— I already told you, — Victor replied irritably.
Thinking it over, Ben nodded.
— Yes, you did. And who told you about this place?
— I don't know his name. He was young, and he had noticeably protruding ears, — Victor accompanied his words by pulling his ears forward with his hands.
— Mickey, haaa... What a shame, I liked him. He was a good lad, — Ben sighed sadly.
— Ha-ha-ha, Mickey! That fits him perfectly, ha-ha-ha!
— What's so funny about that name? — Ben asked, bewildered.
— Come on! Mickey... ears! — He looked at Ben and, realizing the man didn't get it at all, added: — You know, Mickey Mouse!
Ben continued to stare at him, expressing total incomprehension.
— Haaa, — Victor sighed heavily. — Never mind, just forget it. And don't worry about him; he's alive and should be recovering from the curse by now.
— He's alive? You tortured them and let them go? — Ben frowned. — You should have killed them; it wasn't wise to let them walk!
— No, the other two are dead.
— Then why did you let Mickey go?
Victor skillfully hopped up and sat on the counter, casually swinging his legs.
— I don't know. I just couldn't, — Victor shrugged. — Sometimes I feel like I have... an internal evil detector. If I meet someone I want to kill, it means they've done something terrible. But with Mickey, I felt nothing.
Ben's eyes widened. After reflecting for just a few seconds, he calmed down and gave a slow, thoughtful nod. From his reaction, Victor realized that Ben had drawn some kind of conclusion from this information, and he became intensely curious.
— And what do you feel when you look at me? — he asked expectantly.
— Hmm... I don't know. I think it's a feeling that I want to spank you like a disobedient child.
— Spank me? — Ben smiled. — Well, that's good! Very good, actually! It means I haven't completely rotted away yet!
Just as Victor was about to ask exactly what Ben meant, his eyes suddenly snapped toward the door. Without a word, he nimbly hopped off the counter and pulled on his red mask.
The moment the mask touched his face, the door swung open, and three grim, sullen wizards entered the shop with heavy footsteps. They approached the counter silently and menacingly. The one in the lead looked the masked figure over suspiciously before turning his gaze to Ben.
— Greetings. Do you have any information?
The old man looked at the motionless Victor, then back at the wizard, and calmly shook his head.
— No.
One of the wizards grumbled loudly:
— Dammit! How much time has passed already? Is it really that hard to find one brat? The Boss is going to be furious again.
The leader frowned but, suppressing his dissatisfaction, shook his head. After purchasing a few magical items, they hastily left the shop. As soon as the door slammed shut behind them, Victor pulled out his diary and began writing something down.
— What are you writing? — Ben asked.
Without looking up from his diary, Victor said contentedly:
— A reminder. I absolutely must visit a casino today. Fortune is clearly on my side: first there was that mercenary who dug up the info, and now the clients themselves show up!
Ben frowned darkly. He instantly realized the true reason for Victor's visit: he had come for a lead on his pursuers. This was confirmed by the fact that while they were talking, Victor had stealthily slipped a tiny, barely noticeable object into the pocket of one of the departing wizards.
— If I'm not mistaken, you intend to pay them a personal visit, — Ben said calmly. — I advise you against it. You may be unusually strong for your age, but the ones looking for you aren't just common thugs. They are former Death Eaters—more than ten experienced wizards.
— You should be grateful that I've ignored my years of non-interference rules and didn't hand you over for twenty thousand Galleons! — Ben's voice grew louder. — Now go home and stay out of sight unless it's absolutely necessary.