"Damn it, have I been marked?"
Kenneth stood by the window, reached out to part the curtains, and secretly observed the street outside. Although he saw no one loitering around his residence, he could sense that someone really was watching him.
His luck had been terrible lately. Not only had his foolish father lost a large sum of Galleons selling counterfeit goods and gotten himself thrown into Azkaban Prison, but ever since Kenneth had made a delivery to Zonko's Joke Shop for Albert, he had felt as though someone was watching him. Though Kenneth had not found anyone, his instincts from years spent in the grey areas told him that he truly was being watched.
This was definitely not a good thing.
But why was someone watching him?
Because of his father? No, Kenneth preferred to believe it was because of Albert—because of that damned ten-thousand-Galleon bounty.
Somehow, he felt that Albert had set him up.
That was right. If Albert had not noticed something was wrong, why would he have needed Kenneth to deliver the goods to Zonko? Couldn't Fred, George, or Lee Jordan have delivered them just as easily?
Damn it!
Why had he not thought of that back then? He had even signed a Magical Contract. Even if he were caught, he would be unable to reveal anything.
Could Albert be planning to use this chance to get him killed? No, probably not.
He was likely just dumping the trouble on him while seeing whether he was trustworthy.
That thought made Kenneth even more depressed. In the beginning, he had proposed cooperating with Albert. There was nothing wrong with making money together, yet Old Towler had not only refused, but had also tried to profit from Albert's Defence Against the Dark Arts items.
It was laughable just