"Uh... boss, why do you want to see him? Is someone trying to sneak across really worth paying attention to?" the young man who had just been following Schneider asked in confusion.
"Quit the damn nonsense. If I tell you to go, then go." Schneider kicked the young man. "This isn't Durmstrang anymore, bookworm. You've still got a lot to learn."
"Oh. Got it." The young man answered aggrievedly and turned to leave.
"Heh, wonder what kind of big fish we've got this time." Watching him go, Schneider's face lit up with delight.
People in their line of work had never had much in the way of professional ethics. Sometimes, the wizards trying to sneak across the border were prey too.
How much money could smuggling one person really bring in? Catching them and turning them over to the Ministry of Magic for a bounty, now that paid well. And when the Ministry took someone in, it did not confiscate their personal belongings. Those all counted as spoils.
As the saying went, kill you and your money becomes mine.
Of course, Schneider was not stupid. He would not make a move right now. This was werewolf wizard territory, and breaking the rules of business here would get him dealt with very badly.
Besides, Schneider first had to make sure this wizard was someone he could actually handle.
If he could not beat them, then turning hostile would be pointless. Not only would the deal fall apart, he could easily suffer serious losses too.
As for the possibility of being taken out by a single person, Schneider had never even considered it. Give him a break. Not everyone was called Dumbledore. He had his men, and they were no pushovers. Taking on an Auror squad was easy for them. As for a wanted criminal... at worst, he might get beaten up a little, but escaping should still be no problem.
Before long, the young man who had graduated from Durmstrang returned with a figure wrapped head to toe in a black robe.
Schneider sized the person up and could not help sneering inwardly.
It looked like the classic dark wizard outfit, the sort worn by especially cruel and ruthless dark wizards.
But really, only British wizards liked this kind of thing, probably because they were imitating You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters.
Who said dark wizards had to dress like that? Wouldn't it be nicer to wear a proper suit, hold a pipe in your mouth, and carry yourself with a bit of style? Instead they insisted on making themselves look like refugees, with no elegance at all.
"What's your name? What did you do?" Schneider asked casually, as if it were nothing.
"That doesn't really have anything to do with you, does it?" came a hoarse voice from beneath the black robe, impossible to tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman. "I pay. You get me out. Everything else has nothing to do with you."
"I don't like the sound of that. Taking you along means we're taking a risk too. If I don't know who you are, how am I supposed to put a price on that?" Schneider said lazily, leaning against a crate.
"You're a smuggler. What you do is enough to land you in Azkaban for more than ten years. And you care about this little bit of risk?" the black-robed figure said coldly.
"I don't care about the risk. I care about what the risk is worth. Anyway, take the deal or leave it. If you won't talk, then get out." Schneider lifted a hand, signaling his men to show the person out.
"Wait." The black-robed figure raised a hand. "I never said I wasn't taking the deal."
"Oh?" Schneider gave a cold snort. "I thought you were really that stubborn. Fine then, tell me. What's your name, and what did you do?"
He was not worried in the slightest that the person in front of him might turn and leave.
When dealing with people wanted by the Ministry of Magic, he held an absolute advantage. First, they absolutely did not dare make trouble. Second, unlike those loners, smugglers like him actually had connections with each other. Even if this person went looking for another smuggler, they would run into exactly the same problem.
"I already told you. That has nothing to do with you," the black-robed figure said with a cold snort.
"You here to start trouble?" Schneider jumped down from the crate, his drooping eyes flashing with malice. "Let me tell you, nobody fools Schneider. Not even..."
Boom!
The crate beside Schneider suddenly exploded, and the spray of sparks nearly set his beard on fire.
The sudden blast made Schneider shiver. He looked at the shattered remains of the crate beside him, then back at the black-robed figure, his eyes full of fury and wariness.
The explosion drew the attention of Schneider's men. They pulled out their wands and pointed them at the black-robed figure, swearing under their breath and waiting only for Schneider's order to rush forward and kill them.
"You..." Schneider burned with anger as he watched the black-robed figure withdraw a hand back into the robe, but his body could not help trembling a little.
This person was strong. Strong enough that he probably could not afford to provoke them.
Before he could finish speaking, however, the rest of his words were swallowed back down. He saw the black-robed figure pull out a money pouch from under the robe and toss it at his feet. The heavy thud as it hit the ground, together with the gleam of gold visible through the slightly open mouth of the pouch, kept all the filth on his tongue from coming out.
The men beside him stared with wide eyes. In all their lives, they had never seen someone spend money so lavishly.
"Is this enough?" the black-robed figure asked flatly. "For payment and compensation."
The tone, as if none of what had just happened was worth mentioning, practically said: You wanted to calculate the price based on risk? Why bother. I can just offer a number you can't refuse.
Schneider looked at the big bag of Galleons on the ground and swallowed hard. Then he asked cautiously, "Might I ask, sir... you didn't rob Gringotts, did you?"
"Enough nonsense. I'm asking whether you want to make this money or not." Just like that, the balance of power had flipped, and now the black-robed figure held the initiative.
Power and money, first a stick and then a sweet reward, left Schneider more than a little dazed.
He was certain that if his next answer displeased the other party in the slightest, then those suffocatingly numerous Galleons would have nothing to do with him.
With a bag of Galleons like that, not a single smuggler alive would refuse this black-robed figure's request. Even if they did not call it business and simply escorted the person to their destination like an honored guest, it would still be a huge profit.
And then, all through smuggler circles, his story would be passed around like a joke, while he himself became a clown people never stopped laughing at.
A jumble of thoughts ran through Schneider's head. In the end, a fawning smile immediately spread across his face.
"You must be joking. How could someone in business turn down money? Don't worry, we'll definitely get you to..." He paused, then asked, "Where exactly was it you wanted to go again?"