1992.
London, United Kingdom.
Gentlemen in suits and ragged beggars could be seen everywhere on the streets.
The well-off wore smiles, while the impoverished looked haggard.
After all, you could not blame someone who could not afford a full meal for failing to smile at every moment.
The warm summer sun fell across people's faces, leaving them pleasantly warm.
For Muggles, taking a stroll through the streets of London after eating and drinking their fill was the best kind of entertainment.
But in a dark alley packed with people, separated from Central London by only a wall, the scene was entirely different.
At the entrance to the crowded alley hung a sign covered in greenish rust. Whenever the wind blew, it swayed back and forth.
"Clatter, clatter."
The metal sign struck the wall with crisp knocks.
"Tap, tap."
A tall figure in a black robe walked down the dim alley, its stone-paved ground beneath his feet.
Enduring the stench of rot and decay, he made his way through the mud-filled passage.
Beneath that black robe was a golden mask, and behind the mask were a pair of azure eyes.
Those eyes swept over the surrounding alleyways.
There were creatures for sale: shriveled frogs and worms covered in slick mucus.
His shoes stepped into uneven patches of earth, becoming spattered with mud.
Everyone here wore black cloaks, as if the words "not a good person" were the only thing missing from their faces.
The goods displayed at every stall were different.
There were strange, mysterious metal objects.
There were also all sorts of bizarre creatures.
A roaring three-headed lion.
A platypus-like pet trembling inside a cage.
Everything looked like a cruel trading market.
Perhaps if someone offered enough money, there would even be people willing to risk assassinating the Minister of