They eventually found a dilapidated three-story building in Knockturn Alley.
The landlord was a wizard in his fifties with a missing ear.
When he heard they wanted to rent, his mouth split into a grin, revealing a row of stained yellow teeth.
“Looking for a long-term lease or something short-term?”
“One month for now,” Ivan said.
The missing-eared wizard rubbed his hands together.
“Now, listen here.
This building might look a bit run-down, but the location is prime for Knockturn Alley.
It’s right near Diagon Alley, so the security is top-notch.
It’s a bargain at only fifty Galleons a month.”
Lupin frowned.
“That’s far too expensive.
For an attic in Knockturn Alley, thirty Galleons is usually the absolute ceiling.”
“Oi, mister!
This place comes with protective charms!
Anti-eavesdropping, anti-scrying, and the door lock has an alarm!” the man blustered.
“Fifty Galleons is a steal!”
Ivan didn’t feel like haggling.
He simply handed over a bag.
“Eight hundred Silver Sickles.
That’s all you’re getting.
If you’re renting, hand over the key.”
The landlord took the bag, counted the contents, and immediately beamed, handing over the key with a flourish.
The two of them entered the attic.
It wasn’t large, featuring a slanted ceiling and a small window that offered a view of the Knockturn Alley streetscape.
The furniture was sparse: two beds, a table, two chairs, and a small fireplace.
The moment they stepped inside, Lupin drew his wand and whispered several detection spells.
Watching his smooth, steady casting, Ivan couldn’t help but admire him inwardly.
*As expected of a future Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.*
“Sir, I’ve checked.
There are no tracking spells or scrying charms.
The protective runes are real, but they’re very old and won’t do much.
I can reinforce them later.
The alarm charm on the door lock has also failed; it needs to be reapplied.”
“Alright, handle it however you see fit.”
Ivan emptied some of the supplies he had purchased from his Undetectable Extension Bag, piling them in a corner.
Then, he filled another bag to the brim with Bronze Knuts.
When Lupin finished his work and returned, Ivan pointed to the chair beside him.
“Remus, come sit.”
Lupin sat down, watching Ivan.
“There are some things I need to discuss with you.” Ivan placed the bag of Knuts on the table. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
“The Rosier family—ever heard of them?”
Lupin’s pupils contracted.
Of course he had heard of them.
One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, a pure-blood family that had produced Death Eaters and still maintained deep influence within the Ministry of Magic.
“I’m the ‘eldest son’ of that house,” Ivan said, his lips curling slightly.
“The *former* eldest son, naturally.
Since I was judged to be a Squib, my ‘dear’ old man—former Death Eater and current high-ranking Ministry official, Lord Caspar Rosier—felt my existence was a stain on the family.
So, yesterday, he decided to ‘dispose’ of me.”
“I ran for it.
And I happened to grab a few trinkets from the family vault on my way out.” Ivan patted the bag of Knuts.
“This is part of it.”
“You’re telling me this?
Aren’t you afraid I’ll turn you in for a bounty?”
“I am,” Ivan said truthfully.
“But I’m more afraid of dying alone in some alleyway and having my body rot before anyone finds it.”
He paused, looking directly at Lupin.
“The situation is this: I have money, but nowhere safe to spend it.
You have experience, but no money.
Therefore, I need someone I can trust to handle public affairs for me.”
He pointed to the Undetectable Extension Bag on the table.
Ivan held up two fingers.
“You have two choices.
First, you take this bag of money and run.
If you hide well enough, it’ll probably last you a lifetime.”
“Second, you take the money, buy yourself some wealthy merchant’s clothes, get a new wand, and then go to Gringotts to exchange every single one of these Knuts for Gold Galleons.
We continue our professional relationship, and I’ll raise your monthly salary to five hundred Galleons.”
As for a third option where Lupin killed him and made off with the loot, Ivan didn’t discount it because he believed the original Lupin was a “good person.” It was because he knew the plot.
If push came to shove, he could always play the Prophet card.
The thought of pulling a “Seer” move in front of a real werewolf was quite thrilling.
But it was better not to if he could help it.
Not because he was afraid Lupin would actually kill him, but because of Dumbledore.
In the world of Harry Potter, being a Seer was not a safe profession.
Look at the known Seers: one was locked away in a “little dark room” because they broke the game balance, and the other was kept under Dumbledore’s nose, spending their days in a drunken stupor because they were too weak.
If he didn’t want to follow in their footsteps, he had to be careful.
Lupin stared at the bag for a long time.
Eventually, he reached out and untied the drawstring.
Then, he froze.
The five-cubic-meter bag was currently so full it was practically overflowing.
He reached in and grabbed a handful.
The coins slid through his fingers, clattering loudly.
The sheer quantity…
there had to be at least a million, right?
No, more!
It was very likely in the tens of millions.
He even suspected that if the bag’s capacity hadn’t reached its limit, there would have been even more.
The coins finished falling, but Lupin’s hand remained suspended in the air, unmoving.
He remembered Ivan’s words from that morning: *”Because I am alone, and so are you.”*
He remembered the child’s nonchalant tone when saying Squibs and werewolves weren’t so different.
He remembered the cunning in the boy’s eyes when he threw money around, the high price he offered when hiring him, and the calm with which he confessed to being hunted by his family.
Lupin looked up at Ivan with a highly complex expression.
“Is the Rosier family vault…
filled with nothing but Knuts?”
Ivan smirked.
“What do you think?”
Lupin took a deep breath, retied the bag, and tucked it into his robes.
He stood up and walked toward the door.
“I’ll be back within two hours.
Don’t go outside.
Knockturn Alley is dangerous at night.”
With that, he turned and left, his footsteps gradually fading into the distance.
Ivan walked to the window and looked out through the glass Lupin had just cleaned with a Scouring Charm.
Lupin’s silhouette appeared on the street, slowly merging into the shadows of Knockturn Alley.
“What will you choose, Professor Lupin?”
Outside, the sky over Knockturn Alley was perpetually gloomy.
From the distance came the shrieks of unknown magical creatures and the cries of black-market traders.
Ivan sat back down and opened his system interface.
The numbers in the currency column looked particularly festive to Ivan: [Gold: 1,888 | Silver: 88 | Copper: 88].
He wasn’t stupid enough to give Lupin every cent converted into Knuts.
For one thing, exchanging too much at once would easily cause problems; for another, one must always leave a path of retreat.
Now, all he had to do was wait.
Wait for Lupin to return.
Or not.
He looked at the lights flickering on outside.
Two hours.
He could afford to wait.