Harry Potter's : Fantastic Beasts Guide

David pondered for a moment, raising his left eyebrow before patting the deformed lizard-skin bag slung beside him. "My things are usually stored here. Have you forgotten?"

"Oh, right!" Jason replied hurriedly, his eyes flicking toward the exit. "Then let's go quickly, or we'll be too late."

"How are we getting to the dragon farm?" David asked as they walked.

"I applied for a Portkey when I arrived. We'll use that."

David nodded, following Jason in silence as they exited King's Cross Station. Jason led the way down the street, carefully scanning his surroundings before turning right.

"Where are we going?" David inquired.

"Somewhere less crowded. We can't use the Portkey in front of a bunch of Muggles," Jason whispered.

Right…

After walking a hundred meters, Jason turned left, leading them toward an alley tucked between two shops. David glanced at the narrow passageway.

"How about there?" he asked, pointing.

Jason studied it briefly before nodding. "That works. Let's go."

As they entered the alley, the noise of the city gradually faded. Gray walls lined the sides, with balconies overhead draped in lush greenery. Stray branches dangled down, adding a touch of life to the otherwise secluded passage.

The further they walked, the more isolated they became.

Jason stopped and pulled out an ornate fork. "Alright, let's hurry. Maybe we can still make it in time for dinner."

David absentmindedly kicked a fallen branch, which rolled to Jason's feet. "Jason, do you think Anna made potato goulash today? I didn't get enough last time," he asked casually.

"Probably. I told her to make it before I left." Jason's eyes shifted slightly. "Even if she didn't, we'll have time to prepare something else."

"Yeah, good idea." David stomped his left foot and snapped his fingers. Instantly, he felt a strange emptiness in his body.

The branch at Jason's feet suddenly came to life, slithering upward and coiling around him like a snake. In mere moments, Jason was completely ensnared.

"Who—?" Jason's voice was laced with alarm as he struggled against the vines.

"Hey, no need to panic. It's me." David waved with a smirk. "Looks like I made a mistake earlier. Her name is Anna, and she's never cooked beef with potatoes."

Jason's eyes widened in shock, his muscles tensing as he tried to break free. "You—?!"

David withdrew his wand, abandoning wandless magic for precision. The vines glowed with a metallic sheen, tightening their grip. He sighed, his expression growing cold. "Where is the real Jason?"

A slow smile crept onto the imposter's face. "Nice trick. Didn't expect to get caught by a kid like you." His voice was relaxed. "Jason is exactly where the Portkey leads. Do you dare to follow?"

David's gaze sharpened. "Oh?" He met the imposter's eyes, and his pupils dilated slightly.

Jason, you idiot.

Using a fragment of Bai Ze's skill, David peered into the man's thoughts, extracting the truth effortlessly.

"Legilimency?" The fake Jason's expression darkened. "Who are you?"

"I'm the person you're looking for. Don't worry, no one in your organization betrayed you. They're all very loyal." David's voice was calm, almost conversational, but his wand remained raised.

"Then—"

"If you don't believe me, it's fine. You won't remember this anyway." David flicked his wand. "Obliviate."

A spell Dumbledore had taught him after Lockhart's departure, this version of the memory charm was far more potent. Any forced recovery would leave the victim's memories in a tangled mess.

The imposter's eyes glazed over in confusion. Before he could react, David raised his wand again. "Stupefy."

The man collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut. His head smacked against the cobblestone with a dull thud.

David winced. "Hope that didn't cause too much damage."

A faint rustling from above caught his attention. An elderly woman peeked out from a window, squinting suspiciously.

David wasted no time. Placing a hand on the unconscious man, he vanished into thin air.

The old woman muttered, "Strange… I was sure I heard something…" before retreating inside.

With a relieved sigh, David dragged the imposter into a narrow alley.

Behind him, the real kidnapper lay slumped over, his lanky frame resembling a gaunt monkey. A search through his belongings yielded only a bottle of Polyjuice Potion and miscellaneous trinkets—nothing useful.

However, David did notice a triangular tattoo on his chest—a black line, identical to the ones worn by members of the organization he had infiltrated before. It confirmed his suspicions: these men belonged to a faction studying magical creatures.

Spotting a large trash bin, David smirked, levitating the unconscious man inside before sealing the lid with multiple charms.

"Feels like I just disposed of a body…"

Slipping the Polyjuice Potion around his waist, he allowed the transformation to take hold. His features morphed into those of Alan Garner, the man he had just defeated.

"Not the best-looking disguise… but it'll do."

David took a deep breath and made his way down the alley.

After a few hundred meters, he reached his destination: a courtyard enclosed by brick walls, dotted with several luxurious residences.

Jason is in there…

Pressing himself against the shadows, David observed the compound.

Twelve men.

Eleven enemies.

He was alone and had to protect Jason as well.

Tapping his fingers against the wall, he mapped out a plan—just as a sudden movement forced him to pivot sharply.

A spell struck the ground where he had stood a second earlier, leaving a small crater in its wake.

"Don't move!"

A crisp voice rang out, and a wand pressed against the back of his head.

David relaxed. "Where did you get Jason?"

"It's me, Anna. Don't freak out." His voice shifted back to its natural tone.

"David?" Anna's voice wavered slightly with suspicion.

"Yes, it's me. Lower your wand. I'll revert back to normal."

He raised his hands, allowing Anna to see his wand, and slowly transformed back into himself. "I'm here to save Jason."

Anna hesitated before lowering her wand. "It really is you… but who were you just now?"

"A disguise spell," David explained. "When did you arrive?"

"Just now. I used this—" she shook a silver chain, "—to track Jason, but something inside is blocking the signal. I've been searching for a while."

David nodded. "He's inside that courtyard."

Anna tensed, ready to move.

"Wait!" David grabbed her arm. "There are eleven men in there. If we barge in, Jason could get hurt."

"Then what's your plan?" Anna frowned.

David smirked. "I'm going to pretend to be Alan and sneak in. And you…"

He detailed his plan.

She wasn't thrilled, but after a moment, she relented. "Fine. But if anything goes wrong, signal me. I'll come in swinging."

"Deal."

Taking a deep breath, David transformed once more and stepped toward the courtyard.

Time to put on a show.

As David walked, his mind sifted through Allen's memories, carefully reconstructing his expressions and mannerisms. His posture adjusted, his stride changed, and his face took on Allen's familiar, sharp-edged scowl. By the time he reached the gate of the compound, he had fully become Allen—indistinguishable in both appearance and demeanor.

The annual performance assessment had arrived once again.

Taking a steadying breath, David pushed open the gate and stepped into the yard.

Almost instantly, two figures in the distant pavilion sprang to their feet, raising their wands in his direction. Their grips were firm, their eyes cold and calculating. But the moment they recognized his face, their postures relaxed. The tension in the air deflated like a punctured balloon, and their wands were casually set back on the table.

"Allen!" called out one of them, a tall man with a buzz cut. "Why are you back alone? What happened to the kid you were supposed to pick up?"

David let out an exaggerated snort, wrinkling his nose in irritation. "Pick up? What pick up? That went to hell the moment I got there."

The buzz-cut man frowned. "What do you mean? Was there an ambush?"

"Damn right there was! I barely got near the station before they came down on me. Didn't even get close to the target," David snapped, rolling up his trouser leg to reveal a fresh, partially healed scar.

Buzz-cut studied the wound and narrowed his eyes. "But our intel was solid. We used Veritaserum—there's no way we were fed false information."

"Oh, the information was real," David admitted, letting his voice drop into something quieter, more suggestive. "But who's to say they didn't already know we had it?"

A knowing silence settled between them. Buzz-cut's grip on his wand tightened. "You're saying there's a leak?"

David shrugged, letting the accusation hang in the air. "That's not for me to say. I'm just here to report to the boss. If someone's been running their mouth, I'm sure he'll deal with it accordingly."

Buzz-cut exchanged a glance with his companion before nodding. "Fair enough. If you need backup, I've got your back."

"Appreciate it."

David didn't linger. He strode across the stone-paved path, his boots clicking against the smooth surface as he climbed the short steps leading into the main hall.

The moment he entered, the men in the lobby straightened. Their hands went to their chests, touching the single-threaded tattoos that marked them as the lowest rank in the organization. They bowed their heads in greeting.

David barely acknowledged them. He simply waved a hand, dismissing their gestures, and turned towards the staircase on the left, ascending swiftly to the second floor.

At the end of the corridor, a solid wooden door painted deep red loomed before him. He rapped his knuckles against it twice, his voice steady as he announced, "Boss, I'm back."

A voice, rich with age and experience, called from within. "Come in."

The lock clicked open. David pushed inside.

The office was grand yet understated. A large window took up the far wall, delicate patterns carved into its wooden frame. Dark green curtains billowed softly as a light breeze filtered through the room.

To the left stood a long, imposing desk, behind which sat the leader of the organization.

The man appeared unassuming—sturdy but not bulky, his once-dark hair now streaked with silver. His kind smile was deceiving.

David knew better.

This man was no benevolent leader. In Allen's memories, he was a ruthless killer.

"Did you bring him back?" The old man's voice was quiet, patient.

David exhaled, keeping his gaze locked on a pen holder on the desk rather than meeting the man's eyes directly. "No. I was ambushed at the station."

The old man set his book aside. "Ambushed?"

"The information was correct. We extracted it using Veritaserum," David explained, choosing his words carefully. "But…"

The old man arched a brow. "But?"

David hesitated, then let his voice drop. "There might be a leak."

A heavy silence settled between them. The old man's fingers drummed thoughtfully against the polished surface of his desk.

"Do you doubt the Veritaserum?" he asked at last.

"It came directly from headquarters," David answered immediately.

The old man nodded slowly, considering. Then, with a sigh, he stood. "Come with me. Let's take a look."

David followed as they descended the staircase. The moment they entered the main hall, the lower-ranked members stood in unison.

"Boss."

"Mm." The old man acknowledged them with a brief nod before adding, "Stay sharp. Things are getting messy."

David's heart skipped a beat. Was that a casual remark? Or a warning directed at him?

They reached a concealed door at the back of the hall. It creaked open to reveal a narrow staircase spiraling downward.

The basement was dimly lit, the air thick with the metallic tang of old blood. Various artifacts and weapons lined the walls—armor, long swords, and enchanted relics of questionable origin.

At the center of the room, Jason sat slumped in an iron chair, his head hanging forward.

His clothing was shredded, barely clinging to his body in torn, ragged strips. His exposed skin was marred with bruises, dried blood, and fresh welts. Someone had tended to his wounds just enough to keep him alive—but no more than that.

The old man stepped closer, observing Jason in silence.

David kept his breathing steady. He knew the old man was studying his reaction, waiting for a tell, a sign of hesitation.

Then, without warning, the old man turned on him. His sharp, knowing eyes locked onto David's.

"Well?" he said, his voice deceptively soft. "Aren't you going to finish the job?"

His lips curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Or are you afraid that an old man like me might be too much for you to handle?"