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Chapter 147 - Chapter 147: Black Hat Background

Among the dark wizards, many have never received any systematic magical training. Those who had a master-apprentice relationship were in a slightly better situation—at least they had someone to teach them some magic. But those who didn't even have a teacher were worse off by far. The kind of magic students learn easily in school, they had to claw their way toward, bit by bit.

Some of these dark wizards came from small countries with no wizarding schools or Ministries of Magic. Some were native Britons who inherited the craft from their mentors. Others, for various reasons or accidents, never made it into Hogwarts or any proper school—yet still awakened magical power and, by force or by fate, stepped into the world of wizards and became what people now called dark wizards.

Some of them worshipped magical beasts and were born with strange magical gifts. These wizards researched how to use the blood, bones, or organs of magical creatures to transform their own bodies and strengthen their power. Even among dark wizards, this path was often considered taboo, heretical, and looked down upon. But whether they scorned it or not, no one could deny that it worked—this method could take a weak, nameless wizard and make them formidable.

So when Sean lifted the dark wizard blocking their path with one hand, many of the onlookers instantly assumed that he was one of those body-modified heretics.

Despised or not, no one dared to challenge that kind of power.

"Please, please forgive me! I'll take you to Black Hat—I'll take you right away!"

Sean slowly loosened his grip, letting the man slump back down to the ground. He coughed violently, tears running down his face, and looked up at Sean with an expression of sheer terror.

Sean smiled.

It was a warm, polite smile—almost gentle—but in the other man's eyes, it was a thousand times more terrifying than before. He trembled as if about to collapse, utterly broken by fear.

"Don't be scared," Sean said, still smiling. "Come on, get up. You said you'd lead the way."

The man staggered to his feet, hand braced against the wall, and said nothing more. He simply walked forward, head down, leading Sean and Aldridge toward the direction of Black Hat Pub.

The man stood up from the ground, trembling, one hand pressed against the wall for support. He didn't dare say a word, just quietly led the way for Sean and Aldridge toward the Black Hat Pub.

Knockturn Alley was far larger than it seemed on any map. Its winding maze of side streets and alleys stretched out like a spider's web, sprawling deep beneath the surface of legal wizarding society. It was precisely because of this vastness that a large number of dark wizards had taken root here over the years. If it had been just a single street or alley, the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic would have cleaned it out seventeen or eighteen times by now. But as things stood, not even the Ministry could fully uproot the place.

Sean had come to Knockturn Alley this time for one reason: to meet Marwood.

Ever since the incident in Hogsmeade, Marwood and his group of dark wizards had been on the Ministry's wanted list. Though they had thrown two of their most uncontrollable members to the wolves—those who had resisted the Imperius Curse the hardest—there were still Aurors who continued to investigate in secret. If not for Barrett, the victim in that case, who cooperated discreetly and helped minimize suspicion, Marwood and the others would likely have been caught by now.

Since then, Sean had avoided any direct contact with Marwood, limiting interactions to only the occasional secret meeting—and using each encounter to reinforce the Imperius Curse's hold on them. This meeting had been arranged in advance.

The Black Hat Pub was one of the oldest establishments in all of Knockturn Alley. Generations of dark wizards had come and gone, but the Black Hat had always been there—silent, shadowed, and dangerous.

Compared to newer places like The Serpent's Fang, which had risen to infamy only in the last decade, the Black Hat had the weight of history behind it. If the Fang was raw and violent, the Hat was subtle and deadly—an institution known and feared by everyone who walked the back alleys of Knockturn.

In a damp, narrow lane that reeked of mildew and soot, packed with cloaked wizards loitering in the shadows, a worn wooden sign hung from a rusted iron bracket. The paint had all but peeled away, but if you looked closely, you could still make out the faint outline of a black wizard's hat—the mark of the Black Hat Pub, silent and unmistakable.

Looking at the dark wizards loitering in the damp and shadowy alley outside the Black Hat Pub, the man who had led Sean and Aldridge thus far visibly faltered. A trace of fear crossed his face. He glanced nervously at Sean, licked his dry lips, and forced a flattering smile.

"S-sir, the place ahead... that's the Black Hat. I—I've brought you here. Can we go now?"

Sean followed his gaze, noting the lurking figures—black robes blending into corners, eyes flickering in torchlight like feral animals waiting to see who the prey would be. Then he turned back to the trembling man, his expression calm but unreadable.

"You want to leave?" Sean asked lightly, a smile curving at the edge of his mouth. "But we haven't arrived yet. Keep going. Lead us inside."

"No—no, no, sir! I-I can't! Even if you kill me, I won't—"

Before the man could finish his sentence, Sean abruptly raised his foot and kicked. The man hadn't even registered the movement before his body sailed through the air, right past the watching dark wizards, and landed face-first on the cold, filthy flagstones with a wet slap. A perfect dog-eat-dirt fall.

The surrounding wizards grinned, some showing yellowed teeth, but none moved to help or intervene. Instead, they turned their amused attention toward Sean and Aldridge, as if waiting to see whether the newcomers would fare any better.

Sean didn't stop walking. With Aldridge at his side, the two advanced steadily through the alley, eyes calm, footsteps measured.

The smile never left Sean's face—but inside, he was wound tight. Every breath was deliberate, every glance calculated. If anything so much as stirred wrong, he was ready to draw his wand.

Aldridge, on the other hand, had no smile. His face was carved in stone, his right hand already brushing the wand holstered at his hip beneath the cloak. As long as Sean was under threat, Aldridge wouldn't hesitate to unleash lethal force.

 

Perhaps the gathered dark wizards sensed that Sean and Aldridge were not easy prey. Or perhaps unwritten rules governed behavior around the Black Hat Pub. Either way, no one dared block their path. Sean noticed this with a slight lift of his brow—but kept his stride steady.

It wasn't fear that held him back from starting a fight. He simply preferred peace when it was an option.

At the door, Aldridge stepped forward and pushed it open.

Sean entered without pause.

Inside, the contrast was striking. The Black Hat Pub, unlike the moldy alleys outside, was brightly lit and spotlessly clean. The floor gleamed, the air was dry, and the bar smelled faintly of sandalwood and old wood polish—not rot. It felt more like a private club than a dark wizarding den.

There were only a few patrons inside—four or five groups seated at scattered tables. Each person had a drink in hand, and every pair of eyes flicked up for a heartbeat when the door opened, then returned to their own business.

Sean scanned the room once.

Without hesitation, he made his way to a corner table where a lone witch sat sipping from a black glass tumbler.

Aldridge followed behind, ever alert, his presence like a silent shadow at Sean's back.

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