His reasoning for being in Zherdev Alley was simple. He'd needed a change of scenery. Afonka loved Reznov to pieces, but the tiny town could at times be suffocating. Everyone knew everyone, and getting a chance to be alone was not an easy thing to do. Becoming a player on a relatively famous Quidditch team didn't help.
Everyone always wanted to know how the team was doing, who they were playing next, and whether or not he thought they'd make the playoffs (the last one was always asked in jest. The first time he'd been asked that though, it hadn't quite hit him that Mrs. Garin had been joking and he'd just stared blankly at her before saying that of course he thought they'd make it). It was the same problem in Moscow. People recognized him now and it made it much harder to do things in Wizarding Russia. It was a little easier in Azorat, but he hadn't wanted to go to Azorat.
So he'd stayed in Wizarding Russia. His solution to navigating through Zherdev Alley was to pull a hat over his head as if it was his hair that made him famous (but wasn't it his Quidditch skills, not his face that made him famous anyway?) and to try and seem as unassuming as possible as he peered into the windows of the stores he passed. Obviously, it didn't work.
Snapping his head in the direction of the voice, Afonka's eyes widened as his gaze fell on the man. Anton Bykova.
The Head Auror.
Anton Bykova was talking to him.
"I didn't do anything," he squeaked out before he could stop himself, jerkily bringing his hands up above his head. "I'm innocent. I - I didn't do anything. I'm just shopping." Afonka nodded quickly, inclining his head in the direction of the store window beside him. Then he paused to peer into the store, a look of relief colouring his face at the store selling nothing more than potions ingredients. When he looked back towards the Head Auror, the Quidditch player had paled again. "Really, I didn't do anything."