Central England, West Midlands, outskirts of Cokeworth.
Crack!
With a sharp crack, a figure suddenly appeared on the filthy, foul-smelling riverbank.
The figure wore a voluminous cloak wrapped tightly around his body, with even his face completely concealed beneath a hood.
As if checking his bearings, the figure slightly raised his head and swiftly scanned the surroundings.
His gaze swept past the enormous chimneys in the distance before finally settling on a nearby alley—at its far end stood rows of dilapidated brick houses.
"There it is!" With a slight turn of his wrist, a slender wand silently slipped from his sleeve and landed steadily in his palm.
"Snape! Don't disappoint me!" Once prepared, the figure spoke in a voice full of resentment, yet still strode quickly toward the brick houses.
The brick houses were nearly indistinguishable from one another, their walls covered in mottled cracks and peeling plaster. Broken bricks and moss filled the gaps in the masonry, making the place seem like a bleak, frigid maze.
Yet the figure's steps were remarkably decisive. He moved swiftly through the maze-like streets, turning corner after corner and passing one intersection after another.
When he saw the sign marked "Spinner's End," the figure knew he was close to his destination.
The enormous chimney towered nearby, seeming to form a "No Entry" sign against the gloomy sky.
Most of the brick houses here had already collapsed, leaving behind what looked like vast ruins.
The figure seemed entirely unmoved by this. He quickened his pace once more and headed straight for the last brick house, like an explorer who had discovered treasure.
An owl gliding through the air appeared in the distance, a parcel clutched in its talons.
"That's an owl from Flourish and Blotts?" The figure recognized the parcel's wrapping, his tone carrying