Late morning


It had rained earlier that morning and the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade were strewn with mud. Fionn shucked it off his boots on the mud scraper just outside Puddifoot's before he stepped into the tea shop.

He was not dressed formally, and in fact carried two ledgers under his arm instead of in a messenger bag. Of course he never dressed formally unless an occasion demanded it. This particular occasion certainly did not and his purpose would only be inhibited by any outward sign of officiousness. The wizard knew what he was about.

The tea shop was hardly in its busy hour and nobody was about to greet him immediately. He navigated around small tables, glancing at his surroundings in a cursory way.

Aye, Puddifoot's would no doubt be an effective front for an illegal safehouse, were it not registered with the Ministry.

He stopped at a vacant table by the window, looking out at passersby. What few customers in the tea house cast him perturbed looks but Fionn scarcely registered this. He was thinking.

The WCU had been tipped off on several misdemeanors committed by Puddifoot's in their capacity as a safehouse. The tip-off referred to minor offenses; paperwork.

It also accused the establishment of taking in unregistered werewolves.