In the stillness of midnight, a figure appeared out of thin air at the corner of the street. It was an elderly man dressed in robes utterly out of place with his surroundings. He took a silver lighter from his robe pocket, flicked it open, and held it high. The nearest streetlamp went out with a pop, and before long, the entire street had sunk back into quiet darkness.
The old man looked around. Only after confirming there was no one nearby did he head toward a filthy alley close by. The stench made him frown slightly. He stepped into the alley and soon stopped before an old house, raising a hand to knock gently on the door.
A few seconds later, there was movement behind the door, which then opened a crack.
"Oh, thank God. Your letter nearly scared me into running for it. What could possibly be so urgent that you had to come find me yourself?" Mundungus opened the door and grumbled at the elderly man outside.
"We'd best not talk here," Dumbledore said with a smile.
"Right, come in first."
Mundungus quickly stepped back and made room at the entrance, inviting Dumbledore inside.
After Dumbledore entered, Mundungus cautiously poked his head outside and looked around. Only after making sure no one was there did he close the door again.
Although Mundungus knew it was unlikely anyone had followed him, he could not risk letting others discover his connection to Dumbledore. Otherwise, the Death Eaters might come knocking one day.
"If this is something dangerous, don't come looking for me," Mundungus said uneasily as he asked Dumbledore why he was there.
"Don't be nervous. I only came to confirm something and ask around for a bit of information." Dumbledore gestured for Mundungus to sit and talk slowly.