The slacker professor at Hogwarts

After getting his hands on the Pensieve, Lockhart continued toward the darkest corner of Knockturn Alley, where he was going to meet a dangerous man.

—Montungus Fletcher, the wizarding goods merchant.

This dangerous man is so different from Mr. Bokin; he has no bottom line and can be described as a rat in a dark, stinking ditch.

If Mr. Borgin still held onto some pride as one of the "Twenty-Eight Holy Pureblood Families" and wanted to maintain his influence among the dark wizards without going too far, then Mundungus, this scum who mingled at the bottom, truly went to any lengths.

There's even an amusing anecdote circulating among dark wizards: someone went to Mundungus to buy stolen goods, but during the transaction, Mundungus stole the items from his person and sold them to someone else.

It is said that "dragons follow dragon paths, rats follow rat trails, and snakes follow snake trails." Mundungus also has his own wisdom for survival.

He was a well-informed individual lurking in the lower echelons of the wizarding world, and also a dealer in many high-end black market goods.

For example, the Felix Felicis that Lockhart couldn't buy from Mr. Borgin, this guy was able to get his hands on.

The preparation of Felix Felicis is not difficult. Although the process is complicated and may take up to half a year to brew, any apothecary who has mastered the basics of potion-making can prepare it.

The only requirement for this lucky potion to be successfully prepared is that the pharmacist himself must also be a lucky person.

Leaving aside how such ethereal luck came into play, simply the fact that nothing went wrong during the six months of preparing this potion is already a very lucky thing.

Therefore, Folic Acid is very rare and expensive.

Lockhart was stared at by all sorts of malicious and strangely amused eyes along the way, and finally arrived at Mundungus's temporary lodging.

Climbing the narrow staircase littered with garbage and reeking of rotten fertilizer, and pushing open a creaking little wooden door, the tall Lockhart had to stoop to get through the low doorway.

Clang~~~

Lockhart nearly fell flat on his face when he stepped on an empty wine bottle on the ground. He staggered a few steps and grabbed onto an iron cage. Suddenly, a pair of large purple eyes opened in the cage, which was piled with all sorts of random things.

"!!!"

Lockhart blinked, examined the cage closely, and discovered that a fire dragon wearing an iron muzzle was chained up inside.

The black dragon of the Hebdiri Islands appears to be a minor.

The little golden retriever, who was now trembling with fear at the sight of the excited little golden retriever peeking out of Lockhart's robe pocket and looking at its purple dragon eyes, was now shivering.

"Gidero Lockhart~~~" a voice drawled, hoarse from a hangover, full of teasing, "My old classmate, you've finally arrived."

Lockhart looked in the direction of the sound and saw a short, fat man with a stubble beard sprawled on a dilapidated single sofa in the corner. When Lockhart looked over, the man raised the bottle in his hand as a gesture and began to gulp down his drink.

"I've disguised myself like this, and you still recognize me?"

Lockhart cursed under his breath for the rat's sharp eyes, removed his mask and lowered his wizard's robe and hood as a sign of respect, revealing a standard, perfect smile, "Hey, long time no see, Mundungus Fletcher."

Mundungus stood up, rubbed his slightly disheveled hair, pulled a box of cigars from the pocket of his dirty bathrobe, took one out and gestured to Lockhart, "Want one?"

Lockhart shook his head and chuckled. "I don't want to pass out after smoking a cigarette and wake up naked in the Knockturn Alley sewers."

"Oh, you piece of trash have no right to talk about me like that. At least I only steal money," Mundungus said with a mocking tone.

Lockhart's eyes narrowed, realizing this guy might have noticed something, but he pretended not to understand. Watching him subconsciously rub his back and rummage for a lighter, Lockhart chuckled, "I heard you got beaten up by Moody again?"

Mundungus snorted, lit a cigar with his mouth, and after a while, took a deep drag of smoke before coughing violently.

"The Wizards of America's top-grade Fire Dragon's Breath cigars are just awesome!"

He gave a thumbs-up, then, with a sour face, began to curse, "Mad-Eye Moody! That guy has always had a problem with me!"

Lockhart looked around the dimly lit room, unable to find a clean place to sit, so he crossed his arms and leaned against the cage holding the fire dragon. "I heard you were selling contraband at the class reunion again, which is why you got punched by Moody Justice."

Mundungus looked very annoyed. "That damn Gryffindor shouldn't even be in our Ravenclaw alumni association!"

"Come on, without Moody, our Hibiscus Ravenclaw alumni association would have disbanded long ago."

Lockhart glanced dismissively at the casually piled items beside him. These items, which looked like they had been moved from some mansion—exquisite enamel plates and cabinets in the same artistic style—who knows where they came from.

Mundungus didn't want to talk too much about Moody, so he told Lockhart to wait and started rummaging through the messy pile of goods.

In fact, the relationship between Mundungus, this rat in the gutter, and Moody, the Auror leader, goes beyond just the Hibiscus Ravenclaw alumni association; both of them were initial members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix.

Yes!

Mundungus is a member of the Order of the Phoenix, the kind who is extremely loyal to Dumbledore.

However, he was only loyal to Dumbledore. In the original story, he shamelessly emptied Sirius Black's house of all his valuables when his Order of the Phoenix comrade Sirius died, including one of Voldemort's Horcruxes—the locket—which Sirius's brother Regulus had sacrificed his life for.

Lockhart suspected that Dumbledore in the original story would realize he was a memory thief, and it was this sharp-eyed Mundungus who provided the information.

In the dim light, Lockhart's gaze also became somewhat somber. He reached into the pocket of his wizard's robe and stroked the little golden retriever's head, staring at Mundungus's back.

"If you're thinking of hitting me on the back of the head, I suggest you wait until I'm drunk." Mundungus turned around, cigar in mouth, and staggered over to Lockhart, shoving a small glass bottle into his hand.

Lockhart rolled his eyes. "You always think too darkly of people. I live in the light; I don't do that kind of thing!"

"Yes, yes, yes." Mundungus exhaled smoke, his sharp eyes filled with a strange look through the thick smoke. "You're a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry now. Who knows when you'll become a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic? I wouldn't be surprised."

Lockhart ignored his cryptic words and carefully examined the Felix Felicis in his hand.

Folic acid is usually stored in a small, drop-shaped glass vial about the size of a thumb. This is not simply a packaging issue, but rather because this unique shape allows for better observation of the drug's condition.

He held the Felix Felicis up to the dim light hanging from the ceiling, watching the distorted, shimmering potion inside the bottle. He then drew his wand and pressed it against the bottle, feeling the magical rhythm emanating from it, and nodded.

"No problem, right?" Mundungus, a cigar dangling from his lips, stared intently at him. "I went to great lengths to get this!"

"Come on," Lockhart scoffed. "Who knows where you picked this up from when you were 'buying' it. This stuff is expensive to begin with, don't expect to add any value to it."

Felix Felicis has a certain "market price," and there is considerable demand for this potion among dark wizards.

In particular, some black wizards who are not from an academic background or who did not learn their skills well during their school years like to drink this when they are preparing important potions or making black magic items.

With more transactions, a conventional price will emerge.

Lockhart pulled out a bulging bag of Galleons and tossed it over. "Count them."

Mundungus weighed it in his hand, then stuffed it directly into his bathrobe pocket. "The number is correct."

Since he was already there, Lockhart decided to place another order with Mundungus, "Keep an eye out for dark magic creatures for me."

"Oh! No way!" Mundungus choked in shock, coughing for a long time, his brow furrowed. "I can get you Minister of Magic Fudge's underwear if you want it, but dark magic creatures? Buddy, I don't want to touch those horrible things!"

Dark magic creatures are less creatures and more of a phenomenon.

The phenomenon is not a living being; it is immortal and indestructible. Without specialized skills, even the most powerful wizard cannot exert any advantage.

Common dark magic creatures are relatively easy to deal with, such as Boggarts, Peeves the mischievous elf from Hogwarts Castle, and Dementors, the jailers of Azkaban.

But once you delve a little deeper into this field, the things you encounter are extremely terrifying.

In fact, if the academics hadn't included the Boggarts, dark magic creatures, in the curriculum, most wizards in the wizarding world would probably be helpless against these terrifying creatures.

"Information? I need information about dark magic creatures. I don't expect you to bring me one." Lockhart curled his lip at his expression.

"Oh, news? Okay, that's my area of ​​expertise." Mundungus breathed a sigh of relief, then complained, "Instead of being a relaxed bestselling author and a distinguished professor sitting in a spacious, bright office, you're going to dabble in this horrible stuff. You're just asking for trouble."

Is there any possibility...?

Lockhart shrugged. "My writings and teaching are limited to the realm of dark magic creatures? Mundungus, you should read more books! You're a Ravenclaw graduate, after all."

Mundungus chuckled. "Ravenclaw? Ravenclaw scum, my old chap."

While it may not be the best way to put it, it's become a common perception that Ravenclaws produce graduates in various unconventional fields, much like Slytherin produces dark wizards and schemers, or Gryffindor produces Aurors and brute warriors—it's a very strong stereotype.