Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 6: The Villains

It was starting to rain. Being England, it of course was raining perpetually, but in Knockturn Alley it seemed to rain even more. Never hard enough to be stirring, but drizzly enough to cast gloom over everything to fit the scene.

Sitting against one of these buildings was a small girl dressed in a dirty, overly large dress. She sat huddled, watching people walk past. Most of the people walking past her- -and a few things that were quite clearly not even closely related to people- -either failed to notice her or took active steps to ignore her. That was fine with her, of course. There were generally only two kinds of people who inhabited Knockturn alley: old purebloods who had fallen out of their money and status, or the new breed of wizards scrambling to take their place on the top by whatever means necessary. This girl did not want to associate with them any more than she had to; it was not her job.

With it raining, though, she was starting to get wet. She remained sitting, though, until she was sure that the sector was clear. Then she stood up. Almost as soon as she did, she looked across the alley to see- -for the briefest of moments- -something that should have been impossible.

Far on the other side, she saw a man. He wasObsentsiblya wizard, despite wearing what were clearly muggle clothes. He was wholly uninteresting ,though. What mattered were the three colorful creatures at his side. Even from a distance, it was quite obvious that they were unicorns.

The girl ducked behind one of the buildings but moved forward along the wall quickly. She was not fully sure what she had just seen. There were a lot of strange things wandering the streets of Knockturn Alley, but unicorns were not nor had they ever been one of them.

She passed around the building, following her training exactly. She needed to move quickly but be unapparent and unseen. As she did, she reached for a small camera in her coat pocket. When she looked around the edge, she snapped several pictures in rapid succession. They definitely were unicorns, and they were following the man’s lead, walking with him as he was shopping. He seemed to even be talking to them- -and they were not running away or anything.

Of course, in her rush and confusion, the girl had forgotten to turn off the flash on her camera. One of the unicorns pivoted suddenly, a pale yellow one. It met eyes with her, and as soon as it did she felt an unusual feeling. Something ran through her head, and then progressed to pure terror, as if she were staring at something horrible beyond comprehension.

She quickly ducked away, though, and took a breath. She waited to hear the sound of hooves, or the flashes of green light that usually accompanied her fowling up and getting noticed. Neither came, though, and when she looked back, the wizard and his unicorns were walking off toward Borgin and Burke’s.

The girl considered for a moment, and then started running. This was not part of her mission, but it was definitely something that the boss would want to know.

It did not take her long to move through the labyrinthine streets. It took a combination of instinct and mathematical skill to move through the Alley effectively, but this girl had both of those as well as a significant amount of experience with this area. Within seconds she had reached an off-alley. A group of wizards and one ancient looking witch were exiting, looking around with great suspicion as they tucked several items into their long robes.

Farther back in the dark alley, a man in a long trench coat was leaning against a wall. His oversized hat and dark glasses almost perfectly disguised his face. In fact, the only part of skin showing was his ankles sticking out from beneath his coat.

“Hey, little girl,” he said as she approached. “How old are you? Looking to go to Hogwarts? Well, guess what?” He pulled several long sticks made of diverse wood from his pocket. “I’ve got several fashionable universal wands. Hand-crafted and imported. As good- -no, better- -than what you can get at a Diagon wandshop with no matching required.”

“Marvin,” she said.

“Not intesested in wands, then? Okay. I have a spare Hand of Glory, if you might be interested. Fresh-made. Think it used to be a Death-Eater, so you know it’s good.” He pulled out an extremely tiny hand that had quite obviously come from a monkey. “Lets you see in the dark. You aren’t afraid of the dark, are you, girl?”

“Marvin,” said the girl again, this time more impatiently.

“Or how about this? 6.5x52 Carcano ammunition. Genuine magical bullets! Or even…” He leaned closer. “Just in stock for one time only, illegal in forty seven countries and banned in the rest- -a genuine bona fide Downpoker!”

“MARVIN!”

The girl took a step back and her body expanded. Her arms swung around and cracked as the joints snapped and reconfigured, her bones extending and warping as she shifted. Within seconds, she had become a ruddy, middle-aged woman wearing a now appropriately sized but still dirty dress. “It’s me, Marvin.”

“Maggie?” said Marvin, startled. “Darn it, why didn’t you say something?!”

“I was trying. But your terrible sales pitch kept getting in the way. And come on, Marv, you know I’m a metamorphomagus. We’ve been working together for, like, eight years. How did you not recognize me?”

“It’s not my fault! It’s these glasses I have to wear! I can’t see a bloomin’ thing!”

“Just open up.”

Marvin sighed, and then acquiesced. He removed his hands from his pocket and flashed open his trench coat. Maggie crouched down and peered through the resulting portal, and then stepped through.

Like its unusual entrance, the organization that Maggie had come to work for did not operate like a normal store. Most of the external dealings were handled by Marvin or other salesfolk on the street. They dealt with low-level sales and operations. Only a select few wizards and witches were actually allowed inside the shop itself.

Even for those that were, the actual store was small and not optimized for actual merchandising. There were no glass cases of unusual kitsch objects, or morbid but cheap artifacts dangling from the ceiling. If people wanted that kind of junk, they could just go to Borgin and Burke’s or one of the countless other specialty stores on Knockturn alley. Anyone who came to British Empire Imports and Exports did not need displays. They came knowing exactly what they wanted.

There were only a few shoppers present on this particular day. Maggie passed a young and harsh looking witch examining a crate of vanishing Kalashnikovs that had been brought out to her, and behind her a pair with a clerk being explained the specifics of operation of a large and threatening steel golem. Across the store, a crate of vials of agony fluid- -enough to take out a small city- -was missing, apparently having been sold earlier in the morning. And then, of course, there was a regular, a man with no name who only ever asked for “antiquities”. Maggie did not know what the “antiquities” were, and she did not want to.

Working the front room was not her job, though, and she proceeded toward the back room, stopping only to tap on a large round glass jar of freshly prepared homunculi. Watching them dopily react and start to run around and climb over each other always made her giggle slightly, which calmed her down just a little when she needed to not make a complete fool of herself in front of her employer.

She then proceeded to the back room. As she passed through the door, there was the momentary disorientation and timeliness of having crossed a substantial distance seamlessly. The primary warehouse was actually located in the Cardiff, usually.

The warehouse was enormous and dark, filled with racks and shelves of varying sizes and construction that housed various things that were either being stored or prepared for sale. The whole place smelled old, with a mixture of the oil of the muggle machinery that had once inhabited the place and the old, sour smell of evil wizarding artifacts.

Not wanting to linger, though, Maggie walked quickly through the cavernous facility.

“So,” said a deep voice as Maggie passed a narrow passage between two large shelves, “I’m pretty sure I have a brain tumor.”

“It would explain why your head is so swollen,” said another.

“Wait, swollen? My head isn’t swollen?”

“Oh please, I can hear your beanie screaming from here.”

Two men emerged from between the racks, each carrying one side of an enormous boxboard egg container.

“Maggie!” said the smaller one, who was clearly struggling with his half of the crate.

“Lester,” she said, “and John.”

“Does my head look swollen?” said John.

“Ehh…no?”

“That’s a yes,” said Lester. “It used to be normal size, but then it just swolled up!”

“It’s not big!” said John, pushing the box backward. It ran into Lester’s chest, knocking him down so that his end fell on top of him. Maggie gasped.

“Careful!” gasped Lester. “Do you have any idea how much basilisk eggs cost?”

“Do you have any idea how durable they are? I could shoot one out of a cannon and it would be fine.”

“Just be careful,” said Maggie. “Use a cart or something.”

She turned back to her brisk walk, leaving the two to decide what to do with the eggs, and she crossed the rest of the way toward the part of the warehouse that had been demarcated by masking tape as “office space”. It seemed to have at one time held some sort of large piece of muggle equipment, with a high platform being left over that had a view of the entire warehouse. That was where the boss had set up his personal office. A few tables had been set up beneath it, and presently a few wizards were playing cards. One enormous half troll sat with them- -with the other half often assumed to be giant, based on both his ugliness and intelligence- -grinning at the pieces of cardboard that they had given him in place of real cards.

“Hey Maggie!” said one, waving. Maggie waved back halfheartedly and took a breath, starting toward the rickety metal stairs that led to the boss’s office.

It took her several minutes to reach the top, and when she did, she saw that her supervisor was indeed present, sitting at his desk. That area was well lit with a bright yellowish light, but the rest- -being above the lights strung on the racks below- -remained relatively dark and ominous.

The boss looked up, almost as though he were coming out of a conversation. His steely eyes narrowed. “Magmarian,” he said. “What are you doing here? I’m expecting a runner with two cases of dragon kidneys coming in and you’re leaving your sector? And of all the times- -with the Ministry sticking its long and nubby fingers square up my ar- -”

“Sir, I found something,” said Maggie, her voice shaking almost as much as she was. She was never one for speaking to authority figures. “Something incredible- -”

“Incredible? I’m incredulous. If it’s anything like that ‘glowing frog’ you found that turned out to be a glowing toad- -”

“No, no! It’s not like that at all! I was on the street- -”

“Doing your job. Which I pay you for.”

“Yes. I know. But I saw UNICORNS! I- -I saw a man, a wizard, with tame unicorns!”

“Impozzible,” said a deep but vaguely female voice from behind Maggie. She jumped, letting out a small yip of surprise. She had not realized that another person was present- -or, more horribly, that she must have interrupted an official conversation.

She pivoted to see a figure rise from the boss’s couch, standing in the shadows. It stepped forward, and even Maggie was immediately aware that it was not human. It was enormous and quadrupedal.

“Zere are no unicorns,” said the voice in a heavy German accent. “Zey are extinct. I should know. I helped make zem dat way.”

She stepped forward into the light, and Maggie nearly fainted. She found herself staring into a pair of narrow, slit-like pupils in an enormous white-feathered avian head. She saw a pair of feather-coated legs, and talons beneath them- -but not in the rear. That part of her body more closely resembled that of a lion.

“G…g…griffin,” she squeaked. “B- -boss, there wasn’t a griffon on any of the manifests- -”

The griffon reached forward. It was a remarkably swift motion- -far faster than a human could move- -but seemed to take her no effort. Maggie immediately found a razor-sharp claw held directly beneath her chin.

“Now,” she said, calmly. “Would you, little human, care to explain to me why you zink dat I would be on a manifest? As though I am ze import? Do I look like a hippogriff to you?”

“A…a little?”

“This is Gisla,” explained the boss. “From our PSoviet branch. A personal friend of mine, and our new comanager.”

“I- -I didn’t know griffons could talk!”

“Of course we can talk,” said Gisla. “Why would you zink we can’t? Zat we are simply dumb animals, perhaps, as the goblins or ze centaurs? Nein. And you would do well to remember zat, no? As I can very, very, oh so easily remove…” She tapped her claw against Maggie’s chin. “…some of the more…unattractive elements of your face.”

“Un…understood, ma’am.”

“Carefly, Gisla,” said the boss, almost halfheartedly. “She’s an asset. Kind of. She’s a metamorphomagus and one of our few Hogwarts graduates. What house was it you were in again, Magmarian?”

“H- -Hufflepuff. Class of- -of- -’01.”

Gisla stared at her for a long moment, then cocked her head and lowered her claw. “You are too soft, Eugene.”

“We’re in the business of business, not killing,” said Eugene. “But Gisla is right. There are no unicorns left. They were hunted to extinction. Gisla oversaw the harvest in some of the last preserves in Eastern Europe.”

“They’re- -they’re extinct?”

Eugene sighed. “Magmarian, do you have any idea how much unicorn blood is worth?”

“I’m not fully up to date on the exchange rate, but- -”

“Fifteen million galleons an ounce.”

Magmarian’s jaw dropped. “Fifteen…fifteen million….why?”

“Because of what it can do. And how illegal it is. There is nothing- -NOTHING- -that heals like unicorn blood. Even phoenix tears. Those only cure disease, but unicorn blood lets you ignore disease. It makes you far, far better than human. Or so the nubs stupid enough to try to use it claim.”

“Idiots,” said Gisla, passing Maggie and slapping her in the face with her tail. “But if zey want to spend zeir money to live a cursed existence, it is only to our benefit. Or was.”

“Adding to that, there are no ‘tame’ unicorns. There never were. That’s not possible.”

“Especially in ze company of a man,” said Gisla. “Only ze maidens such as yourself can even hope to approach them.”

“Maiden- -?”

“What you are saying is impossible,” said the boss.

“But- -I have pictures!”

Gisla and Eugene both paused, and then stared at her.

“Okay, then,” said Eugene, leaning forward and smiling. “Now I’m interested. You’ve tickled my fancy.”

“Eew,” said Gisla.

“Queit, you. Go get the pictures developed. We’ll have a look in two to three wizarding business days.”

“I don’t have to,” said Maggie, fishing out the camera from her pockets. It was annoying because pockets tended to shift when she changed shape, and it took her a moment to find the one containing the camera. “It’s digital.”

“Digital?” said Eugene. “So it’s a muggle camera?”

“Oh no, it’s a wizard camera. The pictures move and everything.”

“Zo…it takes ze video?”

“Well, it does that too, but…let me just show you.”

She turned on the camera and showed the pictures to her employers.

“No frigging way,” said Eugene, taking the camera from her and clicking through the pictures. “Gisla, are you seeing this?”

“Ja,” she said, herself seeming surprised- -though of course it was difficult to read the expressions of a being whose face consisted mostly of feathers and a beak.

“Right,” said Eugine, looking up at Maggie, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Did you get a trace on them?”

“Yes. The camera flash had the spell built in.”

“And clearly some severe red-eye,” said Gisla, pointing at the yellow colored horse.

“Who cares?” said Eugene. He pulled out a pad, and a quill leapt from his drawer and began writing. “I’m going to dispatch a procurement team. Maggie, you get to lead.”

“M- -me?”

“Um, yeah? Because everyone else is busy.”

“Oh…”

“And take Liu with you.”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “L…Liu? Boss, I don’t think that’s really necessary. It’s just a retrieval mission- -”

“She needs the experience,” said Eugene. He then leaned forward and looked intensely serious. “That, and you’re going to need her.”

“Why would I need her?”

Eugene pointed toward the pictures. “Tell me. You went to Hogwarts. What kind of caliber wizard do you think it would take to tame a unicorn? To have the confidence to just walk down the street with them, flaunting them, in Knockturn Alley of all places?”

“I- -” Maggie had not thought about that.

“Not to mention the fact that if something like this turns up, the Brotherhood probably knows about it too.”

“Brownfinger?” said Gisla, nearly laughing. “An organization of old coots and Hogwartz rejects?”

“Mostly, yes, but half of them are bat-butt crazy. Do you know who invented the instant-insanity curse? They did. By accident. And by practicing it on each other.”

Maggie gulped. “You don’t think…”

“I do think. Either he’s in it, or they’re about to pay him a visit. The messy kind. And whoever that guy is,” he pointed at the wizard in the picture, “he’s some kind of high-level schmuck. Could be Ministry, eccentric, even an old Death Eater. Total bad-news bears any direction.”

“D..death Eater?”

“Or a breeder,” said Gisla.

“Let’s not get our hopes up. Three alone is enough to gross ten times our annual take.” He leaned forward and smiled at Maggie. “So don’t mess up, won’t you? And try not to die.”

Maggie shivered, dumbfounded. She wished she had just stayed outside and done her job.

Comments

[Snow]

Oh, is this a Fluttershoggoth story?