Wade stepped out of the fireplace with long strides and immediately saw a weird man fiddling with things like bones, eyeballs, and shells. On the table in front of him were two glasses and a bottle of rum.
It was a very small bar, with only four or five tables in total. The walls were decorated with the heads of bizarre three-headed dogs, and the ceiling was adorned with countless live bats.
Upon hearing the noise, the man looked up and cast a glance at Wade before his gaze settled on Lupin.
"Long time no see, Remus," the man said with a pleased smile. "I heard you've struck it rich lately. Want to buy anything?"
"Thanks, Acosta," Lupin nodded politely. "I'm not shopping today—just using your fireplace as a transfer point."
"Alright then."
The man's smile vanished instantly, and the backside he was about to lift off the chair sank back down again. He muttered discontentedly,
"Fine this time. But next time, don't bring a kid into my shop."
Lupin just smiled, not bothered by his attitude. He let Wade grab onto his arm and said,
"Ready? We're going to Apparate now!"
With a sharp "pop,"a loud crack echoed through the bar, and the two newcomers vanished like phantoms.
Acosta lazily leaned back over the table and resumed working on the slimy eyeball in his hand.
This eyeball had come from a fire dragon, and was as large as an adult's fist. Holding a pair of tweezers, Acosta slowly began peeling away the outer membrane.
Suddenly—"BANG!"—the bar's front door flew open, letting sunlight spill in. Acosta instinctively shielded his eyes.
"Why is everyone so damn rude?" Acosta growled loudly. "We're closed during the day, pal!"
"Sorry, but I need to buy something. Urgently."
A hooded figure in a cloak stepped inside. As he lifted his head, he revealed a pale face.
Acosta's expression changed the moment he saw him. A smile crept across his lips.
"Ah, if it's you, then of course I'll make an exception. But in exchange, you'll have to tell me how you escaped from Azkaban… Gale."
Gale's mouth twitched into a strange, ambiguous smile—somewhere between grief and mirth.
…
Meanwhile, Lupin Apparated with Wade into a dense forest. Tall, green trees surrounded them, and the sounds of a noisy crowd could be heard in the distance.
"Who is that Acosta guy?" Wade asked curiously. "He looks like a…"
"…a dark wizard?" Lupin chuckled.
"Actually, he's a vampire. His bar doesn't serve the general public—most wizards don't even know it exists. Only the unwelcome types—like werewolves, vampires, or dark wizards—can buy hard-to-get items from him."
Wade nodded thoughtfully.
"Is he a friend of yours?"
"Not exactly… this way." Lupin led Wade through the trees as he explained, "I've helped him out a few times in the past, and he's returned the favor now and then."
"Like a mercenary deal?" Wade asked.
"Something like that," Lupin said casually. "But I never kill or curse anyone—I only help lift curses or disarm magical traps on occasion."
Even in his darkest days, he had never chosen to fall into depravity—but he had indeed once questioned whether his perseverance still held any value.
He knew very well that if he had only lowered his standards just a little, he could have lived far better than most.
Now, when speaking of those days of struggling to survive, Lupin could talk about them lightly, as if they weren't that big of a deal—perhaps even amusing, in a way.
As they exited the forest, Wade saw the camp the wizards had built.
Tents of all shapes and sizes were laid out in relatively orderly fashion. Many people were coming and going from the site; some had clearly just arrived and were struggling to set up their tents.
"Come with me, Wade—our tent is over there."
Lupin led the way deeper into the camp and explained as they walked:
"Technically speaking, this area still belongs to Muggles. There's even a Muggle family living just outside the perimeter.
Honestly, I don't understand why the Ministry didn't just cast a charm to send them off on vacation or a family visit or something. Anyway, no magic is allowed here, Wade."
He hadn't even finished speaking when Wade spotted a wizard looking completely flustered, wrestling with tent poles and screws. The man glanced around furtively, then pulled out his wand and gave it a discreet wave under his cloak.
Instantly, the tent sprang to life. All the small parts rushed into place, and a hammer zoomed in to drive the screws in with precision.
The wizard nodded in satisfaction, then pulled a giant snakeskin bag out of his pocket, reached in, and pulled out a huge handful of clovers, piling them onto the tent for decoration.
Just then, a little child flew slowly by on a toy broom, giggling gleefully.
A red-haired woman—probably the mother—came running after him, snatching the child out of the air and shouting:
"Kevin! I told you to stay inside the tent—don't run off!"
The child immediately burst into loud wails. The woman, even more exasperated, screamed:
"Samuel! Samuel! Get out here and do something about your son!"
A Ministry official had noticed the child flying and was originally planning to intervene—but after hearing the woman's shouting, he stopped in his tracks and hesitated, craning his neck to peer over from a distance instead.
"No magic allowed?" Wade asked Lupin.
Lupin chuckled.
"Well, let's say—no open use of magic. In a few days, once more people arrive, I doubt even the Ministry could control it anymore."
"Which is exactly why they should've made the local Muggles leave," Wade said flatly. "Muggle-repelling charms aren't even hard."
Hearing the disdain and dissatisfaction in Wade's tone, Lupin gave a helpless smile.
The Quidditch World Cup was in full swing, and the upcoming final might attract wizards from all over the globe. Yet the Ministry still had the Muggle campground manager, Robert, stationed at the entrance to collect fees.
Wizards clearly weren't restraining themselves from using magic as instructed. Poor Robert witnessed countless strange happenings each day, only to have his memory and understanding constantly modified with Confundus and Obliviate charms.
Many people quietly criticized this arrangement, but the Ministry's reasoning was:
"Having Robert and his family serve as fee collectors makes the camp seem more normal to outsiders and prevents attention from other Muggles."
Whether or not this justification made sense, it was typical behavior from the Ministry—or rather, from Fudge and the rest of the upper brass, who never listened to anyone's opinion.
—
After passing numerous tents, Wade finally saw their destination:
A majestic tent that was about the size of a two-bedroom flat stood tall and proud. It was eye-catching, but not in an overtly "magical" way.
Atop the tent was a stately lion statue, with golden and red silk draped along the sides—undeniably Gryffindor. The lion looked incredibly lifelike, as if it were only one breath away from letting out a thunderous roar.
There was no doubt—this was Sirius and Harry's handiwork.
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