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My name is Mundungus Fletcher. I'm no bad guy. I know everybody thinks I'm some sort'a lowlife coward, but trust me...I'm no bad guy.

Not that I haven't done my fair share of bad things. It's just that I 'ave bloody good reasons for doing what I do. So, when I knicked some of Sirius' old junk, I wasn't movin' about for fun and games. Either way, I guess karma caught up to me or something, 'cause it wasn't smooth sailin' from that point anyway.

I was out tryin' to pawn off some old heirlooms and such in Diagon Alley when some stubby old witch approached me. She di’n’ look like my typical buyer, but she'd 'ave to do, I thought.

"My 'ear lady. You fancy a purchase today? I've got rings, I've got china; take your pick," I pitched to her.

"No, I assure you I do not plan on purchasing any of these goods from you today. But, I do wonder if someone such as yourself has bothered to obtain a license for trading in magical artifacts," she asked, all sickenin'ly sweet.

I laughed a hearty laugh. "No I 'aven't got a bleedin' license. Who'd bother wit' one a those?"

"I'll have you know that I am a high ranking Ministry official and I have half a mind to fine you as of now!" she lectured, soundin' real offended.

Her rant was cut short as her eye caught one of the heirlooms I was holding.

"What's that there in your hand?" she asked, lookin' interested now.

"This? This is a time 'onered locket, now i'nn't? Beautiful piece of craftsmanship. Jus' positively beautiful," I exaggerated.

"Well, I will make you deal. I'll take that locket off of your hands and I'll let you off with a warning, just this once," she proposed with a certain gleam in her eye.

"Wha' for free? What're you mad!" I shouted.

"Yes, for free. And you should think yourself lucky that I am finding it in my heart to be so lenient," she responded.

"Fine. You can 'ave the bloody thing," I grumbled as I handed the locket over to the portly little witch.

"Just don't let me catch you illegally peddling artifacts again, because I will not make an exception twice," she warned with a smug smile before continuing to waddle her way down Diagon Alley to pester some other poor souls.

I cou'n't believe my luck. I get swindled out of a good deal in my first few minutes of sellin' for the day. Regardless, I kept tryin' to convince folks to buy my goods. Most people saw me and walked away real quick in the opposite direction. That di'n' bother me. The lot of 'em were 'igh class, law abidin' citizen types anyway. The business I'm lookin' for tends to be the dark types. I like to catch 'em on their way to Knockturn if I can. I don't typically like to sell inside of Knockturn Alley itself though. I had too many enemies to be caught in a lawless place like that.

Speaking of enemies, you wont believe what 'appened to me later on that day. I was 'bout to close a deal. Tryin' to negotiate an agreeable price with a customer, when some guy started lookin' over my way a bit too often as he walked by. I continued hagglin' the price of the china I was tryin' to get rid of, but then I noticed that the strange man had turned around and was now walkin' past me in the opposite direction.

Now, call me paranoid if you want, but I was devisin' a plan to get out of there. I quickly came to a deal on the china and was preparin' to take off when the same guy from before came walkin' back my way, this time with two other blokes.

I knew exactly what this was from experience, so I sped up my walkin' pace. Like I expected, the three blokes did the exact same. I took a quick look over my shoulder and noticed that I actually knew one of the two new blokes. It was that halfwit Scabior that I scammed out of ten galleons for that cheap goblet that I had claimed was goblin-made. He should be mad at himself for that one, more than me.

I took another look over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of Scabior reaching for his wand. I don't care to stick around to see what he's plannin' to do with it. I take off at sprint, dodgin' the occasional shopper. The three blokes have started chasin' after me, but I'm a pretty fast guy. One of the idiots with Scabior shot off a jinx that came way too close to my head for comfort, I gotta say.

I saw a witch walkin' by with a hand full'a books and I got a clever idea. Still runnin', I pointed my wand at the pile of books and screamed, "Oppugno!" The witch clearly wasn't expectin' that to happen and looked ready to 'ave a heart attack. The books flew into the air like they 'ad minds of their own and set their sights on my pursuers. I gained some distance between us as they fight off the hostile novels.

Right when I thought I'd be able to stop runnin' and Disapparate out'a there, Scabior shot an Expulso curse right past my head. I turned down Knockturn Alley, pickin' up speed. I ducked into the first shop I come across and watched through the window as Scabior and his mates ran past, still avoidin' those books I set on 'em.

I looked around the dusty shop that I was hidin' in. I actually recognized the place. Noggin and Bonce, the place to go if you're lookin' to purchase a shrunken head or two. As I had no interest in buyin' a bleedin' tiny head that day, I got out of there as quickly as possible and Disapparated.

I decided to go to Muggle London. Not my favorite place, but I assumed that no one would find me here at least. I wondered the city aimlessly that night, with nowhere to go.

You see, no one ever asks me about it, but my life isn't as bloody easy as everybody thinks. I used to live in what 'ad to be London's dingiest flat, but I was even evicted from that dump because I cou'n't keep up with rent. It turns out that sellin' stolen goods doesn't guarantee one a steady paycheck.

Oh, I know what're thinkin'. "Why don't you just get a job, you degenerate filth."

I'll have you know, not many people are linin' up to give work to a 'ogwarts dropout. My father was never in my life and my mother was always sick. What was I to do? Allow my mother to starve?

I left school to get terrible job after terrible job. I barely made enough to feed my mother an' I. Let me tell you something about the Wizardin' world; job opportunities for blokes without their O.W.L.'s are fuckin' scarce. I break the law to stay alive; and even then, just barely.

So the next time you think to judge a bloke like me, think again, you uppity arsehole.

Author's Note:

I wrote this in about two hours and I've never written anything like it at all, so I'm not entirely sure about it. Tell me how you think I did in a review, if you'd like!

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