Author's Note: All of the characters in this parody are the product of the Most Noble J.K. Rowling. Only the plot belongs to me. Read, review, and enjoy. Se gap lai nhe.
Chapter III
The Accord
Amos Diggory and his newly found friend Frank Longbottom arrived late that night at the Hog's Head Inn. When they entered the grimy Inn, they went up to room 7 and knocked on the door.
"Password," said a cheery voice on the other side of the door. Frank was shocked at its almost youthful sound. He had heard of Mundungus Fletcher, the hard-bitten bounty hunter thru his search thru old copies of the Daily Prophet. The voice he had just heard sounded nothing like what he had expected.
"Scurvy Cur," Amos replied. The door opened to reveal a tall, sandy-haired youth.
"Hello there, sonny. Come in, come in." Frank walked in the room. It was a dark and dingy sort of chamber. There was a blanket roll on the floor that obviously served as a bed and a small table. Next to the table were numerous boxes of rum—Mundungus Fletcher's preferred drink. Also around were several bandoliers filled with shotgun shells, a sawed-off shotgun, a brace of pistols, a saber, some bowie knives, and other assorted goodies and tricks of the trade. Seated around the table were two men. One of them was a tall man with a pleasant face. The other was shaded in darkness, a cloud of thick green smoke coming from his pipe.
"May I introduce you to your fellow associates, Mr. Longbottom?" inquired Amos Diggory. "Mr. Bartimius Crouch, Jr." He indicated the sandy haired man who had met them at the door. "Mr. Regulus Black." He indicated the good-natured fellow at the table. "And last, but most certainly not least, Mr. Mundungus Fletcher." Amos pointed at the shady man. "Everyone, this is Mr. Frank Longbottom."
When they had all exchanged formalities, Mr. Diggory began talking once more.
"I have assembled you all here for a purpose. You all will be working for the Ministry of Magic as independent lawmen, or more accurately bounty hunters. The Ministry has decided to pay 50000 galleons for the capture of Lord Voldemort and 25000 for the capture of his faithful minions, those Corpse Chompers—"
"Death Eaters," Regulus and Barty said in unison.
"Whatever," replied Amos. "Regulus and Bartimius will work as spies and Ministry agents inside of the enemy's camp and shall report to Mr. Fletcher, who will be the de-facto head of this operation. If anything of importance comes up, you two will use these coins, which have been enchanted using a protean charm to inform either Mr. Fletcher, Mr. Longbottom, or myself immediately. Mr. Longbottom, you will be Mr. Fletcher's adjutant. Is this acceptable to all?"
The Fearless Four nodded in assent. "Very good, Sirs. Well, I will be turning in for the night. Good evening, gentlemen." With a cheery wave, Amos departed for home to visit his wife who was nursing their young son, Cedric. The remaining Bounty Hunters sat in silence for a brief while until…
"Dang, I need a drink!" roared Dung. "You there—Barty—pass me a rum. 'Ere we go. 'At's a good lad. Lads, let's drink to glory and gold."
"And to success," said Bartimius Crouch, Jr.
"And to honor," piped in Regulus Black.
"And to Alice Prewitt," said Frank in a morose whisper that nobody heard but himself. However, despite his growing depression over the potential loss of Alice, hope seemed to grow in his chest. If they were to be as successful as Amos thought, and if Dung and his associates were as good as he thought, perhaps he, Frank, could regain Alice's love, and her brothers' respect. It was with that half-heartedly cheerful thought that Frank downed his rum in a single gulp and drifted to sleep.