Thunder and hale raged and battered against the keep. Unnatural and unclean the weather was.
At least it was in his mind. The sort of weather any sensible person would stay well enough away from, thank you very much.
This lot wasn't exactly known for their good sense.
“Thank you for coming.” The... thing said, dressed in drab and ominous looking robes that hid all features that would make it a person. It was hard to ascribe a gender to it. He guessed it was female? Yeah, she probably was female. Even if she tried to distort her voice.
“Most of those that have been summoned need to be...convinced.”
“I'm not that stupid.”
She must have smiled though he couldn't say for certain. Best to hurry this up. He wanted to get home and put the finishing touches on his novel.
As he followed the creepy woman up the grand, though spartan, staircase. He wondered how in blazes he got himself into this mess.
He knew the answer of course. Who doesn't need some startup capital early in life? Even if you are the greatest wizard alive, you don't get anywhere without money. So they gave him all the resources he needed, and all he had to do in return was to do what was asked, when it was asked.
Most people wouldn't be asked for anything, just a simple return on the investment. He was hoping to fall into that category. For those in the other category, well...
The Knights would have their due.
They entered a vast circular room lit by floating candles. Shadows hid human shaped figures all around it’s circumference. The light from the candles wasn’t nearly bright enough to show anything except for some silhouettes.
His task would be an important one then.
“Have a seat.” A deep baritone voice boomed through the room from every direction. Lightning from outside the window illuminated the room for a short moment as thunder followed in it’s wake.
Creepy.
He didn't need to be told twice. When he sat down, a brown folder slid in his direction on it’s own accord.
“You've been contacted by a certain individual about a job opportunity. You will accept it.”
It was true, but how did they know this? He thought it wise not to ask that. Instead he asked why.
“...Open the file.”
A low quality photograph of a girl with weird hair, greeted him. She seemed to be waving towards the camera before she tripped and threw something at the lens, the photo turned black and the scene repeated itself.
The girl in the photo looked incredibly alive, even in two dimensions. The rest of the file showed some information. Estimated weight, height, magical potential, that sort of thing.
“You will go to Hogwarts and you will kill her.”
He had to swallow a lump as it formed in his throat. “What, Why? What's she done to you?”
“That is none of your concern. All you need to know is that this is what our Lord commands.”
“...Your Lord you mean.” He grumbled
“Your devotion is neither expected nor required. You have our Lords favour. So you will do this, or you will die trying.”
“Why me?”
“You can get close. We warn you, all previous attempts on her life have failed, and there were many.”
“The goblins?”
“...Yes. They may be our Lords creation and so serve Him out of obligation. But we... we serve him willingly and so where they have failed, you will succeed.”
He wondered for a moment if the creepy voice might be overestimating his dedication to their cause. It didn't matter. The girl had to die.
“Do I have a time frame for this thing?”
“The end of the school year should be more then enough time. Our Lord is patient.”
He closed the file and hid it in the sleeve of these itchy robes they forced him to wear, and stood up.
The robed figures all bowed their heads as he left the premises.
Once he was home he could get out of his own stuffy robes and have himself a nice panicky meltdown in peace.
xxx
The morning started early for Borgin at Borgin and Burkes. First he had to put the old-old merchandise in the backroom, to be sold next year. Then he had to put the new-old merchandise on display.
Once again he questioned the mental capabilities of the average wizard.
Borgin was logging the products in his inventory and guesstimating their prices when his eyes fell on a little rainbow patterned key necklace with a handle that looked like a horse.
He took a moment to really look at it for what it was. Simple and pretty.
Ah yes, that Parkinson fellow brought it in. Possibly stolen. Oh well, it's been long enough now. Any heat it had is probably long gone. On display it goes.
xxx
The ting-a-ling from the bell above the door informed Borgin of his first customer of the day. A regular as it turned out. One of his favourites. Gullible this one, always good for a sale.
“Morning!” The customer said jovially as he browsed the store for anything of interest.
“Mornin’.” Borgin always thought he was a bit of a weirdo. He had to be if he dressed like that. Blond, with way too loud of a robe. Naive too. So much so that he almost fell bad when he sold him some scrap for way to many galleons. Almost.
Pupils dilated when the man gazed upon his new merchandise.
Brilliant.
Borgin had a hard time staying behind his counter. Experience has taught him that it was often better if he just let the customers come to him. The man was trying his best to look disinterested. How adorable. He came over with the necklace he had placed their just this morning. The pretty rainbow looking one.
“How much for this?” He asked still doing his best to try and look disinterested.
Borgin was going to take him to the cleaners. “Ah yes, this piece is quite exquisite isn’t it? The subtle enchantments, the rainbow patterning. It came to me by a wee lass, down on her luck. I gave her a fair price of course.” He took a moment to pretend do be thinking.
“Can’t let it go for less then ten Galleons I’m afraid.”
“Done!” The man almost shouted eagerly. He slapped the money on the counter without any fuss and grasped the necklace, eyeing it hungrily for a moment, before putting it away in his robe. “Thank you very much! You have no idea how far I’ve searched for this.”
Suddenly the man grasped Borgin by the head and kissed him on the forehead. “Really! Thank you.”
Startled a little by the enthusiasm, Borgin took a moment to blink. “Uh, you’re welcome?”
The man left with a skip in his step, and Borgin was left with the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that maybe, just maybe, might have undersold that little trinket.