Hogwarts’ John Wick

For a time, wizards had been hunted, so some old hiding places still remained in wizarding settlements.

A small boat travelled along the river towards one such settlement.

A young man stepped ashore.

Wearing a hood, he tied up the boat with a cold expression.

"You again?" An old wizard nearby, biting down on a pipe, smiled at him. "What are you looking to buy this time?"

The young man glanced around. There were more smiling faces on the street now.

"Prepare some food for me." He took out a list and looked it over. "I also need some right foreclaw clippings from a Kneazle and some dittany."

"That's quite a lot." The old man took the list and muttered a few words.

The young man immediately snatched the list back and turned to leave for somewhere else.

"Hey, I didn't say I couldn't get them!" the old man hurriedly called out. "You won't find those things anywhere else."

The young man stopped and said coldly, "If you don't want the business, someone else will."

"Young people these days are all so..." The old man was about to complain further, but seeing the young man's impatient expression, he quickly assured him, "Same as usual. Come back this afternoon to collect everything."

The young man nodded and walked deeper into the settlement.

Once he was gone, the old man smiled and put the list away.

"What an idiot. Doesn't even know Silver Hand sells all of this."

Chuckling, the old man called over his grandson, who had been studying, and handed him the list.

"Take your Young Wizard Card and buy these from Silver Hand."

His grandson looked reluctant. "The money on this card is supposed to be for my studies."

"Go!" the old man snapped. "What good is studying? Money is what matters. The more we earn, the better our lives will be."

He urged his grandson to go make the purchases.

Ever since Silver Hand introduced the Young Wizard Card, he had often done this.

He would have his grandson buy things, then resell them at eighty percent of the normal price.

After accounting for the discount, he made a clear profit of thirty percent with nothing more than a bit of legwork.

He had discovered this business opportunity himself and had even warned his grandson not to tell anyone.

The boy ran to Silver Hand Johnny.

The shop, which had been boycotted not long ago, now had plenty of customers inside.

Other young wizards like him were using their cards at the tills.

The boy followed the list and selected each item one by one, but one thing gave him trouble.

Dittany was a material commonly used to treat wounds and could usually be bought from any potion shop.

But right foreclaw clippings from a Kneazle were much harder to find. Very few potion shops carried something like that.

With no other choice, he cautiously approached an employee and asked, "Excuse me, do you sell right foreclaw clippings from Kneazles?"

"You again?" The male employee recognised the boy and smiled. "Kneazle right foreclaw clippings? They're in the alchemical materials section. But you've been buying quite a lot these past few days."

The boy hurriedly thanked the employee and ran off.

The male employee watched him leave with a thoughtful expression.

Tommy came out, and the employee walked over to him.

"Mr Shelby, I suspect someone is using a Young Wizard Card to make a profit."

"Oh?" Tommy asked. "What happened?"

The employee explained what he had noticed about the boy. After listening, Tommy glanced at him and said thoughtfully, "I understand. Go back to work for now."

After sending the employee away, Tommy followed the boy into the alchemical materials section.

Young wizards rarely had any reason to come into this area. Most of the people searching for materials there were adults.

That made a young boy particularly easy to spot.

Tommy quietly followed behind him.

The boy never noticed and kept his eyes fixed on the list in his hand.

When he finally looked up, he realised the Kneazle right foreclaw clippings were stored on a high shelf, far beyond his reach.

He stood on tiptoe, stretching as high as he could.

After several failed attempts, the boy began to look dejected.

At that moment, Tommy walked over, took down the Kneazle right foreclaw clippings, and glanced at him.

"You need this?"

The boy hurriedly thanked him. "Thank you."

But just as he reached for it, Tommy pulled his hand back and said as though he were only trying to help, "This is a rather uncommon alchemical material. Are you sure you didn't read the list wrong?"

The boy fell for it and immediately took out the list to check.

Tommy reached over and snatched it from his hand.

The boy panicked and tried to grab it back.

"Dittany, Kneazle right foreclaw clippings?"

Tommy glanced over the shopping list.

Besides those two items, there were several other materials used to treat wounds, while the food on the list was strange as well.

Some of it was not suitable for long-term storage, and the quantities were far too large for a child to eat by himself.

After memorising everything on the list, Tommy handed it back with a falsely sympathetic expression.

"We have everything here, except for the wet raisins."

The boy hurriedly took the list back and checked it.

"My grandfather said I had to buy everything on here." The boy looked miserable. "Sigh.. He's going to yell at me now."

Tommy spread his hands with shameless helplessness.

"Nothing I can do about that."

After watching the boy leave, he beckoned over an employee.

"Put away all the wet raisins."

The employee immediately went to do it, while Tommy continued watching the boy thoughtfully.

"Everything on that list is either rare or impossible to find in ordinary shops."

His brow furrowed as something occurred to him.

He went to investigate the boy's purchase history.

Anything bought with a Young Wizard Card was automatically recorded, and every card had its own unique number and registered name for easy reference.

This system had also been designed to prevent people from using Young Wizard Cards for profit.

The moment Tommy checked the records, he noticed something was wrong.

Everything the boy had purchased recently consisted of healing materials, and they all shared one thing in common.

They were rare.

Rare enough that only Silver Hand was likely to stock them.

"Someone is using him from behind the scenes. But why?"

He stared at the changes on the parchment, reached out, and tapped it with a finger. The words floated off the page.

Some of the healing materials could easily have been replaced with less conspicuous alternatives, yet whoever had made the list had deliberately chosen rare materials that only Silver Hand carried.

They were not only expensive, but also bound to attract attention.

"He wants me to notice."

Realising this, Tommy walked out of the shop and saw the boy heading elsewhere to buy wet raisins.

He was about to follow when he suddenly stopped and casually turned back towards the shop as if nothing had happened.

"Someone's watching."

Tommy discreetly swept his gaze over the surrounding people.

He had no choice but to abandon the idea of following the boy for now. Instead, he instructed one of his trusted men to keep track of the boy whenever he came to make purchases.

...

The boy brought the things he had bought back home, and his grandfather grinned so widely that his eyes nearly disappeared.

But when he heard that the wet raisins had been bought at full price, the old man immediately became angry.

The boy said aggrievedly, "They didn't have any."

"What kind of lousy shop doesn't even stock everything?" the old man cursed.

That afternoon, the hooded young man returned.

He went to the old man to collect his goods, and the old man said hypocritically, "The things you wanted were far too rare. You have no idea how much effort I had to put in."

Seeing that he still refused to hand them over, the young man said impatiently, "What do you want?"

"More money."

The old man was even greedier than a Niffler.

The young man sneered. "Do you take me for an idiot?"

The old man said self-righteously, "It took a lot of effort to find the wet raisins. Asking for a little extra for my trouble isn't unreasonable, is it?"

"You got the wet raisins from somewhere else?" A subtle change passed over the young man's expression.

The old man failed to notice the meaning behind his words and continued boasting about how much trouble he had gone through.

The young man had no interest in listening to his nonsense. He entered the house, picked up the goods, came back out, and tossed him a bag of money.

The old man immediately turned his back like a thief and happily began counting it.

Back on the boat, the young man drew a wand and waved it. The rope untied itself, and the boat drifted downstream with the current.

The sky gradually darkened.

As he passed beneath an arched bridge, he lowered his head slightly while two wizards crossed above.

After travelling beyond the bridge, he finally stopped at a concealed hideout surrounded by vegetation.

The young woman carried the supplies inside. Behind her, the small boat began to sink until it disappeared beneath the water.

The hideout was sparsely furnished, though recently there were signs that someone had been living there.

She took out the dittany from the supplies and tossed the wet raisins into a cauldron nearby.

The young woman removed her hood and set down her wand.

Tugging at her hair, she complained, "You really can sleep."

After stirring the potion in the cauldron for a while, she opened the dittany and walked towards the only bed in the room.

Someone was lying on it.

The young woman picked up a small silver knife and cut away the bandages covering the person's wounds.

Then she sprinkled dittany over the bleeding injury. Blood continued to seep from the wound. She watched for a moment before setting the knife aside.

"We're lucky. Silver Hand noticed."

The young woman took out a needle and thread and pierced the skin around the wound. The necrotic tissue had already been cut away.

"I think we'll be able to complete the mission soon."

Her vision began to blur, and only then did she remember that there was still something she had not done.

She placed a hand against her neck and rubbed the skin with her fingers for a moment until one edge began to peel up.

Gripping it carefully, she slowly pulled.

A layer of false skin came away from her face.

"Good thing I did pretty well in Muggle Studies back then. I even learned a few interesting tricks."

She set the false face aside, revealing the one underneath.

Out of habit, she reached into her pocket, then cursed under her breath.

"Oh fuck, I forgot I'm out of cigarettes."

After wiping away the remaining adhesive from her face, a face Tommy knew all too well was revealed.

The missing Auror, Lippi Korbel.

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