Chapter 9. The Thief at Dawn
The morning sunlight spilled in through the half-open glass window, fell upon the spotless floor, and slowly crept up onto Duncan's bed.
Pro, in his dream, dug a mountain of gold out from underground.
It sat atop it, paws pressed together, trying hard to stuff the gold coins into its pocket.
But just as Pro had shoved in only a few, Duncan turned over and, by accident, thumped his hand down on it.
It was frightened awake at once.
Pro flailed its paws in a panic.
The blurry scene before its eyes gradually came into focus, and only when it saw what was pressing it down and disturbing its sweet dream did the terror in its heart slowly ebb.
Infinite grievance flowed in Pro's round eyes.
It gestured in the air, as if it meant to scratch a few lines across Duncan's face, but it never acted, proving it had the heart of a thief but not the guts.
"I remember that Duncan's money seems to be kept in the jar on the desk…" Pro's face lit with excitement.
The mountain of gold in its dream was fake, but the coins in the jar were most certainly real.
Pro wriggled its body and, relying on its sleek fur, slid little by little out from under Duncan's arm.
By the time it slipped to the edge of the bed, Duncan still hadn't noticed anything amiss.
A smug look flashed in Pro's eyes.
It curled its body into a small inky ball, rolled down along the sheet, and, when it hit the floor, bounced high again.
Only after a few bounces did it barely steady itself.
Pro shook its head, dizzy from the knocks.
Once clear-headed, it quickly glanced at the bed and froze in place, terrified that the commotion had awakened the sleeping giant and would squander all its efforts.
A moment later, seeing no sign of the person on the bed waking, Pro let out a breath, crept soundlessly under the desk, hugged the desk-leg with its short limbs to lock in its body, and strained to climb upward.
The short distance of a little over a metre was a chasm to Pro.
By the time it reached the top, a damp mist had formed over its sleek fur, beading into sweat that kept rolling down.
But it was all worth it.
Pro panted heavily a few times, its small eyes filled entirely by the pig-shaped piggy bank.
It scampered to the front of the bank, rose up, and scratched at the smooth side with its paws.
Yet only the coins inside clinked and rattled.
It couldn't find a way to get them out.
And Duncan on the bed seemed to be showing signs of waking.
Anxious, Pro's eyes spun, and it hit upon an idea.
Planting its back against the bank, paws braced against the tabletop, cheeks puffed, it pushed back with all its might.
The piggy bank scraped against the slightly rough tabletop, giving off an unpleasant, piercing squeal that jabbed at the eardrums.
Pro had to push for a short stretch, then pause for a while, moving gingerly so as not to alarm the slumbering giant.
It didn't go as Pro wished.
Moments later, Duncan opened his eyes, yawned, looked to the side, and, seeing no small figure there while hearing the racket in his ears, he immediately bellowed, "Pro, are you up to mischief again?"
Startled by the sudden reprimand, Pro gave a jolt and nearly fell off the desk.
By reflex it wanted to run.
But when it glanced back out of the corner of its eye, it saw that, after all its effort, the piggy bank was already close to the desk's edge.
Wouldn't it be a dreadful loss to give up now?
Pro's mind brimmed with unwillingness.
Its little paw scratched at its plump belly, troubled.
A dozen seconds later, Pro made up its mind.
It would make a desperate gamble and score big.
Pro no longer worried about alerting Duncan.
It just kept pushing back hard, and the bank, half again as tall as its body, soon reached the edge.
Frowning, Duncan sat up and looked toward the source of the sound.
He arrived just in time to see Pro and the piggy bank plummeting together.
A thought flashed, and he instantly understood what had happened.
He shouted, "Pro, you're getting bolder and bolder—how dare you lay paws on the money in my piggy bank!"
No sooner had Duncan finished than—smack!
The bank struck the hard floor.
A big crack split across the pig's head, and round Galleons and Sickles sprang up with the shock and rolled everywhere across the floor.
Spinning a few times, Pro barely steadied itself before scuttling on all fours toward the piggy bank.
While keeping one eye on Duncan's movements, it raced against time to stuff coins into the pouch at its belly.
"Drop it!" Duncan threw off his quilt and, not even bothering to put on his shoes, lunged at Pro, trying to stop the greedy little thief from stealing all his coins.
Beating Duncan to it, Pro grabbed two quick handfuls, then moved nimbly, circled around the table corner to dodge Duncan's sweeping hands, and bolted for the door.
Looking at the broken piggy bank with only a few Galleons and Sickles left, Duncan felt miserable.
He had saved his pocket money for so long—gone, just like that!
Eyes reddening, Duncan stared toward the direction Pro had fled and roared, "Pro, don't think you're getting away today!"
Pro looked back and squeezed out through the gap beneath the door, making a getaway.
Duncan flung the door open and gave chase, thundered down the stairs, rushed through the sitting room, ran back and forth around the long dining table several times in the dining room, and finally cornered Pro under the sofa and caught it.
"Give my money back, or your snacks are confiscated today!" Duncan gripped Pro with both hands and ground out the threat between his teeth.
Pro clutched its pocket tight, as if it hadn't heard Duncan, only turning its head to size up the surroundings as though searching for something.
"What are you looking for?" Duncan asked, curious.
"Don't you find it strange?" Pro replied.
"We've made a racket for so long, and Tina and Newt still haven't shown up!"
"Oh."
Duncan realised it too.
He put Pro into his pocket and hurried to check the entrance to the secret realm.
There were no signs that the bricks above had been moved.
Newt was probably not inside right now.
"Where did they go?" Duncan scratched his head, puzzled.
Although Newt often left without saying goodbye, Tina would never do that.
"Duncan, look over there on the table.
Isn't there a piece of paper under that cup?" Pro stuck its head out, paws hooked on the edge of Duncan's pocket, peered at the cabinet by the door, and tilted its head up to tell him.
"Mm?" Duncan took two steps to the cabinet, moved the cup aside, picked up the paper beneath, and read it quickly.
"What does it say?"
Pro slipped out of the pocket, climbed up Duncan's clothes onto his shoulder, and looked down at the parchment in Duncan's hand.
Sadly, it couldn't read and couldn't make head or tail of the scribbles.
Duncan put the parchment away and sighed.
"Granddad says he got a letter from Mr Duke this morning.
They've found some clues in the western United States that might be connected to that secret organisation.
But I'm about to start school, so it's not suitable for me to go along.
They went ahead to check them out."
Pro turned its head to look at Duncan.
"So what about us?"
"They say they've already discussed it with Mr Weasley.
I'm to go stay over there for a few days and then go to school with them," Duncan said helplessly.
He hadn't expected Newt to slip off first, making him miss a chance to complete a task.
"Weasley?
Those detestable little brats?" Pro's eyes widened, echoes of unpleasant memories ringing in its mind, and it suddenly felt its Niffler life was hopeless.
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