It was raining as a man named Mundugus Fletcher opened the taxi's back door for the poor bloke. "Get in!" he barked. The poor bloke did as he was told and shut the door behind him. Mundugus instantly felt sorry for the man. He looked just like what you would expect a man would look like right after being in a fire. His skin was covered in grey ash and his hair at the tips were burned to a crisp. He looked mentally exhausted. Mundugus Fletcher reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a letter from Dumbledore. It read:
Dear Mundugus,
Tonight, around 8:46, Lily Potter died. Her son, Harry, has already been taken care of and James has no memories whatsoever. Poor chap. Spoke to him earlier. Thinks he's this man named Dr. Herbert R.L Cockroach. I need you to protect him and tell him what's in this packet. He needs to be Dr. Herbert R.L Cockroach till he is well enough for the news and for Harry.
From,
Dumbledore.Inside the once folded letter, was a packet. Mundugus quickly took it out and scanned it.
There was a sigh of exhaustion in the back seat. Mundugus started up the taxi. "Where to?"
"Scotland avenue, house 227."
"Tell me about yourself, Dr. Herbert R.L Cockroach...