Central England, West Midlands, on the outskirts of Cokeworth.
Crack!
With a sharp snap, a figure suddenly appeared beside a filthy, stinking riverbank.
That Figure wore a broad cloak that wrapped him up tightly, even his face completely hidden beneath the hood.
As if confirming his direction, That Figure lifted his head slightly and quickly swept his gaze around.
His eyes passed over the huge chimneys in the distance before finally fixing on an alley not far away—at the end of it stood rows of shabby brick houses.
"That's the place!" With a slight turn of his wrist, a slender wand slid silently from his sleeve and landed steadily in his palm.
"Snape! You'd better not disappoint me!" Once he was ready, That Figure let out a voice brimming with resentment, but still strode quickly toward the brick houses.
The brick houses were almost indistinguishable from one another. Their walls were covered in mottled cracks and peeling plaster, with broken bricks and moss occupying the gaps like a desolate, cold maze.
Yet That Figure's steps were extremely decisive. He moved quickly through the maze-like place, turning one corner after another, passing one street corner after another.
When he saw the street sign marked "Spinner's End," That Figure knew he was close to his destination.
Huge chimneys towered not far away, seeming to form a "No Entry" sign against the gray sky.
Most of the brick houses here had already collapsed, like an enormous ruin.
That Figure seemed not to feel that way at all. He quickened his pace again and walked straight toward the last brick house, like an explorer who had discovered treasure.
An owl appeared not far away, gliding through the air, a package clutched in its claws.
"Is that an owl from Flourish and Blotts?" That Figure