Chapter 7: A Fruitless Search
The new treasure chest yielded two duplicate cards and one new one.
[Mundungus the Smuggler (Rare); rumors of the smuggler Mundungus can be heard in most underground markets. It is said that for enough Galleons, he can get you any supplies.
Skill: Transaction - Destroy this card. When purchasing any item, you can successfully acquire it by paying a sum far exceeding the item's price.]
Without the slightest hesitation, William once again chose the card with no chance of failure.
Afterward, he quickly flipped to the system's inventory and noticed that the note behind Mundungus's card had been changed to "Hated."
Well, I'll be. I didn't even do anything to him—could it be that Nine-Fingers and his gang have loose lips, and Mundungus overheard them telling the story as a joke?
It wasn't impossible.
William speculated as he walked toward a young man.
He had spent the last few days making inquiries. If there was one person in the prison who knew basic magical education inside and out, it had to be this guy.
It wasn't that the young man was some child prodigy who had outsmarted the Ministry of Magic at such a tender age to get himself thrown in here—the main reason he knew the subject so well was that he had been studying at Hogwarts not long ago.
It was a well-known fact that wherever there are exams, there will be people who cheat. And at a school as large as Hogwarts, cheaters were caught every year.
Getting caught during a normal exam would have been one thing, but this fellow was caught cheating on his O.W.L. exam. Not only was he expelled, but he was also sentenced to half a year in Azkaban. You could say he tested his way into Azkaban for advanced studies.
Hogwarts wasn't a place everyone could graduate from. Most of the prisoners in Azkaban were Hogwarts dropouts. They had either failed too many exams, used magic outside of school, dropped out on their own, or severely violated school rules... the list went on and on. As for the rest of the prisoners, most of them were Hogwarts graduates.
If you ignored all other information and just looked at the prisoners' alma mater, you might think Hogwarts and Azkaban were holding some sort of joint event.
Wizards like William, who had never attended Hogwarts and were instead taught by an older wizard, were not unheard of in magical society. However, in Azkaban, they were pitifully rare. These wizards, whose skills were passed down through generations, all had their own unique trades to make a living and were far less likely to break the law.
When William found the guy they called 'the Goat', he was in the middle of peddling a potion.
Actually, it couldn't really be considered a potion. Without the aid of a wand during brewing, most potions lose their effect, which is precisely why the Potions course is a stumbling block for so many wizards.
Compared to the standardized procedures of measuring ingredients, following the correct order of addition, and so on, applying the appropriate magical power is far more crucial for a potion to form correctly.
The potion 'the Goat' was peddling was an inferior concoction, created without a wand, relying only on the wizard's unstable control over his magical power combined with the natural properties of the herbs. Its composition was highly unstable, with effects that fluctuated somewhere between giving you diarrhea and killing you before you could be sent to the Hospital Wing for treatment.
However, this stuff wasn't for drinking, but for smelling. William easily recognized it as an incomplete version of Amortentia.
After all, his predecessor had been a potioneer, so most of the knowledge he had inherited from his memory was in this field.
Although this potion couldn't be consumed, simply smelling it was a top-tier luxury in Azkaban. Despite the pungent odor of an unfinished brew, its effect made it a top-tier potion in the prison—it allowed a person to recall their favorite scents.
"Freshly brewed contraband—a scent more addictive than chocolate!"
'The Goat' enthusiastically pitched his product to William, his face alight with excitement, making him look nothing like a prisoner of Azkaban.
"Amortentia?" William raised an eyebrow. "What's the price?"
"Ah, an expert! That'll be fifty Galleons a bottle—don't complain about the price, this is Azkaban. If you use it sparingly, this little bottle will last you a month!"
A month?
William smiled. From his own half-baked knowledge, it would be a miracle if this thing remained stable for two weeks. He wouldn't even take this kind of half-finished potion for free, afraid it might explode in his pocket.
Seeing that William had no intention of taking out any money, 'the Goat's' expression instantly changed.
He waved his hand impatiently. "Get lost, you broke bastard. Don't interfere with my business!"
Ha—you're really not afraid of getting beaten to death when someone finds out this stuff has expired, are you?
William turned and walked away without any intention of continuing the conversation. He had originally thought that a student coming to Azkaban would surely be eating and sleeping poorly. He had planned to trade some of his leftover chocolate for a rundown of the Hogwarts curriculum, which would have been a fair transaction.
But now, with the guy running such a big operation, there was no point in even taking out the chocolate. The fellow was completely focused on making money; who'd want your worthless chocolate?
...
It took Mundungus half a day to finally convince Moody that he was just tired and wanted to rest—or perhaps Moody just pretended to believe him, but Mundungus couldn't ask for more.
In front of his old mate, he couldn't bring himself to drop his trousers and leave a little surprise for his fellow prisoners, so he could only leave Azkaban with Mad-Eye Moody, filled with endless regret.
However, he did end up taking the nine Sickles and fifteen Knuts with him, as a final fleecing of the wealth of those scoundrels.
As a smuggler who moonlighted as a thief, he never had a habit of leaving a settlement empty-handed. It was a matter of pride.
Although Mad-Eye Moody was scornful of it, even wanting to destroy the money along with the discarded prison uniform on the ship leaving the island, Mundungus insisted on keeping his spoils.
"Mundungus, no more theft after you get out this time. If you end up in Azkaban again, don't expect me to pull you out on account of our old friendship."
"Of course not! I was thinking of helping Dumbledore out for a few more years!"
The long-awaited freedom and the fresh air brought by the sea breeze made Mundungus feel wonderful. He even said things he thought he'd never say before his imprisonment, and in a cheerful tone at that.
Compared to that terrifying place, Azkaban, the tasks Dumbledore needed done were an absolute breeze. He could even slack off during work and help the Ministry of Magic ship a batch of cheap goods on the side!
Mad-Eye Moody sized up Mundungus for a moment, then chuckled.
"I doubt you'll be of much help this time—Albus is in a bind."
"Is there anything Dumbledore can't handle?"
Mundungus's tone was full of confidence; he had more faith in Dumbledore than he had in himself.
"There is. Hogwarts is short a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor again. Why don't you give it a try?"
"What's so difficult about that? Don't tell me I, Mundungus, can't—"
Halfway through his sentence, Mundungus quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, forcing himself to swallow the rest of his words.
(end of chapter)