That same evening, Victor stepped outside. As he locked the door, he suddenly froze, but a moment later a smile bloomed on his face. Humming a tune under his breath, he headed toward the hardware store at the end of the street. A few seconds later, a man who had been feeding pigeons on the other side of the road tossed away his remaining bread and calmly followed in the same direction.
Across from the entrance of the store Victor had entered, the man sat on a bench. He unfolded a newspaper, but his gaze repeatedly lingered on the shop door. After ten long minutes, he frowned, focusing entirely on the entrance. Just as the man was about to stand up, he felt someone sit down beside him. He flinched in surprise, his hand instinctively jerking toward his waist.
— Good evening! — Victor greeted him cheerfully, sitting next to him and carelessly swinging his legs.
— Hello... — the man squeezed out, trying to remain calm even though panic was surging inside him. How had he not noticed him?!
— Did the Headmaster send you to watch me? That's so sweet of him!
— The Headmaster? Sorry, kid, I don't know what you're talking about. You must have me confused with someone else.
Victor hopped off the bench and straightened his shirt.
— I almost believed you. I bought a few bags of cement and sand in the store. Be a pal and carry them back to my house; I'll be along in an hour.
— Listen, I'm not... — the wizard didn't get to finish. Victor simply vanished into thin air, without so much as a crack of Apparition.
Left alone, the wizard looked around and sighed heavily. Dumbledore had warned him to be extremely careful, but he had decided that tailing a child would be a walk in the park. Now he bitterly regretted it. His eyes fell on the massive, heavy bags that were just being wheeled out of the store.
In Knockturn Alley, Ben sat in his empty shop, studying a Muggle book titled Fishing for Beginners. The door creaked, and Victor walked in, wearing his black suit and mask.
— Hello, Ben! — Victor glanced around the empty room. — No one again? Do you actually make any money at this?
— Only those who know the way come here, — Ben replied without looking up from his book. — There are no cheap contracts here, so I earn fairly rarely, but well.
Victor nodded. He removed his cloak, which flew into the air, swirled into a funnel, and transformed into a tall, elegant chair. The boy climbed onto it and placed his mask on the counter.
— Do you take a percentage of the completed orders?
— I used to, — Ben set the book aside. — Now they pay me for the listing, for information, and just to accept the contract. So even if the mercenaries fail, I'm still in the black.
— And if someone just sees the notice on the board and completes it quietly without paying you?
— When they come for the reward, I simply get rid of them and take the reward for myself, — Ben explained matter-of-factly.
Victor nodded understandingly. The clients' names were kept confidential—only Ben knew whose contract was on the wall—so they would have to come back to him eventually.
— And what brings you here today?
Victor proudly pulled out an amulet and placed it on the counter. Ben narrowed his eyes, examining it. Some of the patterns were unfamiliar to him, and although he wasn't an alchemist, he had seen plenty of amulets in his time.
— Where did this come from?
— I made it myself, — Victor puffed out his chest proudly.
Ben remembered the old amulet that had miraculously saved Victor's life back then and nodded:
— I see.
Victor pouted.
— I told you that one was a defective prototype from when I started studying alchemy! This is the king of protection. You won't find anything like this anywhere else; it's a hundred times better than the junk you sell here!
Ben thought for a moment and tucked the amulet under the counter.
— I'll test it. If it's as good as you say, you can list them here. My cut is fifteen percent.
— I don't want to sell them, — Victor laughed. — Especially not to thugs.
— Then why did you bring it?
— To brag! — Victor explained calmly.
Ben only shook his head.
— Fine, if that's all, get out. I have a lot of work.
Victor looked around the absolutely empty shop.
— Yes, I can see that. You're practically drowning in customers.
Ben remained silent, keeping a steady gaze on him. Victor sighed.
— You're too boring. Fine, I didn't just come to show off. My "rehabilitation" starts soon, and I wanted to ask you a favor.
— Rehabilitation? — Ben repeated.
— Yes, the Headmaster caught up to me too quickly. He's taking me away any day now.
Ben nodded understandingly.
— I saw your message. Honestly, it looked quite gruesome.
— Yeah... — Victor sighed. — At first, I just wanted to burn them and leave only the marks, but then inspiration struck. I even wanted to fix it so they were all staring with wide eyes right at the entrance... But by the time I thought of it, it was too late—their eyes had already melted.
— You definitely need the help, — Ben shook his head. — You clearly have serious issues. So, what is this favor?
— Can you keep an eye on a certain someone for me?..
After his talk with Ben, Victor returned home to find a drenched and barely breathing wizard at his doorstep. Victor casually walked up to the door and began unlocking it.
— Why are you so tired?
— These bags... are damn heavy... — the wizard croaked.
— Did you seriously carry them by hand? — Victor looked surprised. — Didn't it occur to you to use magic?
— There were Muggles around! I couldn't cast spells in front of them!
— Well, you could have at least lightened them with a charm beforehand.
The wizard froze. Indeed, a simple Weight-Reduction Charm would have solved the problem, but because he had been exposed so easily, he hadn't even thought of it.
— Fine, grab the bags and take them to the basement. We've still got work to do, — Victor commanded.
— Listen, I'm here to watch you, not to work as a mover!
But Victor had already vanished into the house.
— The basement is that way. I'm going to change and then I'll be down.
By morning, while the wizard was gloomily chewing on a piece of toast, Victor was finishing leveling the concrete in the center of the basement.
— Why are you hiding Muggle weapons under the floor?
— In case someone steals my car or kills my dog, — Victor replied seriously, standing up and inspecting his work with a smile. — I want to look serious when I smash this floor with a sledgehammer and start my revenge.
— Why?!
— It's the rule! All the cool guys do it: John Wick, The Equalizer, Red. If you have a gun, hide it in the floor. That's the basics.
At that moment, Dumbledore appeared in the basement with a quiet pop. Surprised, the watcher choked on his toast and began coughing violently.
— I asked you to keep an eye on him from a distance, not to set up family breakfasts, — the Headmaster noted.
— Don't scold him, — Victor interceded. — He helped me stir concrete half the night. What kind of host would I be if I didn't feed my guest?
Dumbledore turned his gaze to Victor.
— I trust you didn't leave the house?
— Just ran to the hardware store.
The Headmaster looked at the watcher, who hesitated before nodding.
— Yes, he went to the shop, and then I... lost sight of him for about forty minutes.
— You little snitch! — Victor pouted. — And here I thought we were friends! You've broken my fragile heart, sir!
The wizard looked embarrassed and stole a quick glance at Dumbledore.
— Can I go now? Please.
Dumbledore, his eyes on Victor, nodded. Having received permission, the wizard breathed a sigh of relief and immediately apparated. Sensing the Headmaster's heavy, piercing gaze, Victor began intently studying the walls.
— How's the weather out there? — he asked casually. — The radio promised rain; maybe I should take an umbrella?
Dumbledore remained silent, burning him with his gaze. Victor finally couldn't take it and sighed.
— Oh, come on! I was just saying goodbye to my new friend, nothing more.
Dumbledore, sensing no lie in his words, gave an encouraging smile.
— A friend is a good thing. I am glad you were able to find company this summer.
Victor only smirked internally; if Dumbledore knew exactly who that friend was, he wouldn't be smiling like that.
— You won't need an umbrella; we are traveling, — the Headmaster said. — Pack your essentials. I've made arrangements with an old acquaintance; he has agreed to take you in for the rest of the summer.
— For the rest of the summer? Living with a stranger? — Victor grimaced. — Are there other options? I'll only agree if it's a beautiful young woman, but I'm fairly certain all your good acquaintances are old men.
Dumbledore only chuckled.
— My mind is made up. Go pack; I shall wait in the living room.
Victor didn't like this at all, but what choice did he have? It was better than Azkaban. Casting one last proud look at the patch of not-yet-hardened concrete, he nodded with satisfaction and went to pack.
While Dumbledore leisurely drank tea in the living room, Victor was upstairs racking his brain over what to take. Finally, he gave up and came down; three massive trunks floated through the air behind him.
— I'm ready. We can leave.
Dumbledore looked at the luggage and raised an eyebrow.
— You realize you are only staying until the end of this summer?
— I need all of it.
Dumbledore shook his head wearily.
— You've spent so much time on alchemy; couldn't you have at least made yourself a trunk with an Undetectable Extension Charm?
— Pffft, of course I did! But only one bag, and it's already stuffed to the brim. I didn't have the funds for more.
— I see. Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything?
Victor hesitated for a second, then nodded confidently.
— Definitely nothing.
"Meow!"
Victor turned around. Crookshanks was sitting on the armchair, lazily stretching.
— For your information: that's not my cat, and I didn't forget him, it's just... Fine, I forgot him. Do you have a suitable carrier?
Dumbledore smiled.
— Do not worry. Leave the luggage here; my friend's house-elf will collect it. And the cat.
— Mmm, a house-elf? Your friend can afford one; that's definitely a point in his favor.
Suddenly, a piercing cry echoed through the house, and a phoenix appeared in a pillar of flame.
— A phoenix? I thought we were just apparating.
— Yes, but my acquaintance lives in another country. We would have to cross borders, and I'm too lazy to deal with the administrative red tape. Fawkes will take us directly.
Victor broke into a wide smile and threw an arm around Dumbledore's shoulder.
— The Headmaster and I are breaking the law together for the first time! This is so cool!
Dumbledore's eye twitched. Shaking his head, he raised his hand. The phoenix dived toward them, and as soon as they touched its feathers, all three vanished in a brilliant flash of light.