Chapter 165

Chapter 165

After walking with the slip of paper for some time, Suer finally discovered what sort of place he had entered.

The words on a peeling, weather-stained sign were barely legible: “Welcome to Cokeworth”.

Emptiness and desolation defined the place. The weather had been brilliantly sunny and cloudless when he left home, yet everything here seemed veiled in mist and steeped in gloom.

Tall, enormous chimneys rose in the distance, shrouded in white vapour as they stared ominously over the town.

Only a handful of shops along the street were open. As Suer walked, an inexplicable chill settled over him. He constantly felt unseen eyes watching him, but whenever he turned, the sensation immediately vanished.

A faint stench hung in the air. Rows of decrepit brick houses, their decorations broken away until only fragments remained, marked the place as a relic of a previous age, left behind by the present.

Snape lived in a place like this?

“You there, boy. What are you doing here?” A low, hoarse voice came from a deep alley as Suer passed.

The sudden interruption startled him, and he swiftly drew his wand.

Clack, thump. Two distinctly different footsteps emerged from the darkness.

“This is no place for a child. Who do you belong to?”

An old man with only a few wisps of white hair stepped out. His clothes were stained with an unknown mixture of brown and black liquid, and his expression was grim. Most alarming of all, one of his feet had been replaced by a piece of wood.

Suer remained silent.

“I’m talking to you!” The old man grew impatient. His wooden foot seemed uncomfortable, and he stamped it several times. “What are you waving that little stick around for? Have you come here to perform as a clown?”

“I’m looking for someone…” In those few moments, Suer had judged that the old man, despite his gloomy face and hostile tone, meant him no harm.

“Looking for someone?” The old man stressed the words. “Judging by your clothes, you’ve come from the city?”

“I’m from London.” Suer lowered his hand. The strange old man might bear him no ill will, but that was no reason to relax his guard.

“Ha! A young gentleman from the great city, just as I thought.” The old man mocked him, then looked around. No one else was in sight.

“Where are your elders? Anyone with half a brain would never let a child come alone to a damned place like this. Heh.”

“I remember very clearly. Plenty about your age…” He clicked his tongue.

Suer’s heart tightened, and his grip on his wand grew firmer. The old man’s eyes continued what his words had left unfinished.

“You’ve smelled it, haven’t you? That scent in the air… Ha… Truly…”

“I have an elder who lives here,” Suer said calmly.

“Oh?” The old man smiled, making himself look savage and terrifying. Only then did Suer notice the scar that ran from the side of his nose all the way to the back of his head, as though someone had once struck him with a blade.

“Where?”

Suer pressed his lips together and said nothing.

“Let me guess…” The old man did not mind Suer’s silence in the slightest. “Spinner’s End? It can’t be here, at least. I’m the only living person in this part of town… Heh.”

His gaze fixed upon Suer. “Ho, ho. It seems I guessed correctly.”

“You’ll never find it without directions.”

The old man appeared uncomfortable again. He stamped his wooden foot against the ground, producing a tooth-grating crack of bone against wood, but his expression did not change.

Suer kept his mouth shut and stared hard at the old man. If he tried anything, Suer’s wand would teach him a memorable lesson. As for any later investigation by the Ministry of Magic, the law explicitly allowed an underage wizard to use magic when his life was threatened.
“Well, well.” The old man looked Suer up and down, his gaze passing casually over the wand in Suer’s right hand.

“You can smell it in the air, can’t you, boy? Keep walking from here. When you reach a river, follow it upstream. You’ll come to a rubbish heap, and the place you want is beside it.”

“But be careful. Beware the vengeful spirits in the river. They’ll drag you under. Heh, heh, heh…”

The old man stamped his foot again, muttered something meaningless, and turned back into the alley.

Clack, thump, clack, thump… His footsteps gradually receded.

Suer could make neither head nor tail of the bizarre old man, but he decided to follow the directions and look for Spinner’s End.

No wonder Snape was gloomier than a ghost all day long. How many people could remain normal after living in a place like this for years?

Suer calmed his lingering fright as he followed the river upstream.

The old man’s directions were correct. Suer found the river, though he saw none of the vengeful spirits the man had mentioned. There were only weeds and faded wrappers. The river was filthy. Its black surface was coated with a dark substance of unknown composition, and that appeared to be the main source of the stench.

The closer he came to the river, the more nauseating the smell became. Suer could not use the Bubble-Head Charm, so he held the front of his shirt over his nose and quickened his pace.

He soon saw the rubbish heap the old man had described. Beside it stood a broken sign bearing an arrow. Only the first half of the word “Spinner’s” remained, and the arrow pointed towards an alley lined with identical two-storey brick houses.

Suer hurried inside. The arrow had pointed in the right direction; no one had been bored enough to turn it around. Then again, apart from Suer, there probably were no children in this damned place.

“Number seventeen, Spinner’s End…” Suer walked on, peering up at copper plaques covered in green corrosion as he tried to work out which house he had reached.

Every house was painted in the same dark, oppressive shades.

Behind their solitary glass windows waited a darkness that seemed ready to devour anyone who came near.

If Suer had asked any adult before coming here, they would have warned him gravely never to enter the town alone unless he could guarantee his own safety.

Since the Muggle government abandoned Cokeworth, large numbers of Dark wizards had occupied it, taking advantage of its maze-like layout and rows of identical houses.

Dark wizards often used the town as a temporary refuge from the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic and as a convenient place to conduct experiments in Dark magic. Every adult witch and wizard knew that.

Muggles had once lived here, but now scarcely any remained.

“Twenty-three… twenty-three…” Suer muttered the number as he ventured deeper.

A soft rustle sounded behind him. He stopped immediately and slipped a hand inside his robes to grip his wand.

A sound somewhere between weeping and wailing made every hair on Suer’s back stand upright. He had no time to hesitate. He drew his wand, spun around, and fired a red spell. It struck the cobbled ground and burst into a shower of sparks.

Whoosh… A black shape flashed past his eyes.

The glimpse was brief, but he saw it clearly. It was only a black fox…

“That frightened me…” Suer relaxed.

Then a second-floor window at the end of the alley creaked open, and a voice he knew better than almost any other rang out.