Disclaimer: Arx and Rafe are mine. That's it. This was written for the Tales of Knockturn Alley series. Reviews would be appreciated.

"Alohamora!" The words were whispered, frantic, the slim wand tip pressed against the latch of the door. "Oh bloody hell, c'mon!"

"I do believe you won't have much luck. The spells I have up now are more than sufficient to prevent against petty theft." In contrast, these were almost idly spoken, with just an undertone of menace lurking to them.

The would-be 'thief' whirled around, storm-gray eyes large in her too-thin face. "I'm no thief!" She spat out, and glowered at the rich chuckle that issued forth from the man.

"Hn. No thief, hm? What, I suppose you were just going to break into my shop to…stay out of the rain?" He arched a sardonic brow and she fingered her wand in response, just wishing she could throw one decent curse at him.

"Obviously you're daft." She gritted out. "It's a lovely day out. You need your head checked, 'cusin' me of bein' a thief, then making a nutters statement like that!"

He conceded that point in their verbal game with as slight nod of his head. "Then, Rafe, do tell why you were trying to break into my shop?"

"Don't call me that! That's not my name, an' you know it!" The man sighed, feeling half amused and equally frustrated. Straightening up, he gestured the girl back, and ran his palm and wand down the face of the door, murmuring something so low and rapidly she'd never been able to make it out.

"I'd know your name if you told me it." He said lazily as the door swung open, and he waved a hand indicating she should go in first. "Really, we go through this every day." He followed her in, shaking his head. "Now get your apron on, the store's due to open in a few minutes."

"I know that." She muttered, and headed towards the back of the shop, where on a peg there hung a long black apron that had been heavily charmed to repel stains, and although she didn't know it, to protect against stray curses and such of that matter. Slipping it on over her head, she lifted small hands, and ran them underneath the mass of rampantly curly red hair. Twisting the mass into a knot high up on her head, she stuck her wand through it, and moved her head carefully to make sure it would stay in place. When it seemed that it would, she gave a sigh of relief, and headed towards the counter in which were displayed some of their more valuable items. Behind it, which had an obsidian back, there was a small stool that boosted her up just enough for her to be able comfortably operate over the counter. "M'ready, boss."

"Hn?" Came the laconic reply as he checked the few items that had been dropped off by owl-post the night before, down the chute provided.

"I. Am. Ready." She enunciated carefully, wishing to bop her employer over the head. Honestly, he was so picky!

"Ah, good show." The roguish tilt to one corner of his mouth made her roll her eyes in good-natured amusement, irritation quickly fading, as he went to the door, and placed his hand on the sign. "Masks up?"

"Up an' at 'em!"

"…"

"Up anD at THem."

"Right!" With a flourish, he flipped over the sign, and stepped back, and in that one smooth movement, the amusement faded from his bearing, and he became the epitome of the cool, haughty pure-blood. He would not grovel for his customers, as so many in Knockturn Alley did. No. His products were top-line, and he was well aware of it, as were his customers.

One of the first customers in his shop was a rather short, pudgy man with a voice and manner that grated on his every last nerve.

He barely looked up as the man, who would only call himself Peter, walked to the counter, and began to talk to the girl he'd teasingly nicknamed Rafe. "M-m-my master's o-order s-should be r-r-ready?"

As he half-listened to the interaction between the man, and his employee, his mind drifted back to the first time he'd saw the child who now worked for him. Par for course, it seemed with them, she'd been trying to break into his shop, and when he'd caught her at it, a good deal more perturbed than he had been today, she brazenly denied it, claiming to be a …

...flashback...

"…Freelance sexur'ty 'sultant!"

The anger faded marginally at the words, or more accurately, how the child, who couldn't have been more than 8, had said them. Face smudged with dirt, stomach growling so loudly he could hear it from over a foot away, and barely reaching his waist, she aroused an instinct to immediately call Wizarding Children Services, but somehow he didn't think that they'd get her in time, or that she'd stay there long. "Hn. Don't you mean Freelance se-KHUR-ity CON-sultant?"

"S'what I said, idn't it!" Her eyes were full of fear, yet she stared him down as most men would not. He had a reputation for being quite ruthless, although it was only when needed, and right now it radiated from him.

Raising a hand to run through his hair, he stopped at the girl's obviously involuntary flinch. 'Well, that answers one question,' He thought, and cast about for what exactly he was supposed to do. He didn't have the urge to punish the imp, he didn't think anyone with even half a heart would. Her stomach growled again, and he sighed. He'd catch hell for this, he just knew it. "I guess you're here about the job then?"

Confusion flashed in her eyes for a brief moment, and he inwardly chuckled at how quick this girl was when she swiftly nodded. "Yup. Job. Can work hard, but 'spect be paid good."

He arched his brows, and she set her jaw, staring up at him boldly whilst casually pocketing her wand—'Where did she get a wand anyways?' "You'll speak properly whilst you work for me, is that clear?"

"Yu—Yes. Speak prop'r-properly, got it!" He waved her back, and opened the door, motioning for her to enter first.

"What's your name?"

"Don't got—Don't have one."

"Hn, why do I not believe you?"

"'Cos yer daft?" She responded smartly.

He outright laughed, not being really able to help it when caught by utter surprise like that. The chit was amusing him to a degree he hadn't been amused in quite a while. She flashed him a mischievous grin, and looked around. "So, whatcher—what you want me t'do?" He had to give her credit; at least she was trying to speak properly.

His eyes darted around the shop as he tried to come up with anything to do that would keep her busy, and in his sight. Finally, frustrated, he conjured a rag, and handed it to her. "Start dusting. We'll break for lunch in three hours, but I always…break for a snack about an hour and a half from now." That wasn't true, but he was a Knockturn Alley merchant, for Merlin's sake! He could lie with the best of them, and better than most of those, although he had a suspicion this girl could give him a run for his money, if for nothing else than sheer bravado.

She nodded, and then, surprisingly, set right to work, handling things with carefulness he didn't really expect from…

...end of flashback...

"Mr. Merrin?" He glanced up, and blinked, he hadn't realized that Peter and Rafe had stopped talking, much less that she'd ventured so close to him.

"Yes?" The irritated expression on her face told him this wasn't the first time she'd called him name.

"This cus-TOH-mer says 'is order is inac-" She stopped, frowning, and he could practically see her trying to figure out how to get her tongue around the long word. He nodded then, and turned his attention to the man, laying a hand protectively on Rafe's shoulder.

"You believe the order to be inaccurate, sir?" A slight menace entered his bearing, and he walked over to the man, who nervously rung his hands together. Flicking his eyes momentarily to the silver hand, he sneered at the much smaller man. His orders were never inaccurate on his part.

"Y-y-yes. I c-clearly ordered two jars of the-"

"Rafe?" He never took his eyes from Peter. When the girl responded, he went on. "Please go upstairs and get the order ledger for the first week of last month."

Peter's eyes widened as the girl scampered up the stairs, and he gulped when Merrin smiled coolly at him. "I have a photographic memory, sir, but I understand that others need to see proof of a mistake or lack thereof."

Merrin, who's first name was Arx, watched sweat bead on the man's, who reminded him so much of a rat, as he waited for Rafe to come back down. When she did, he held out his hand, and she easily placed the ledger in it, and then assumed a position that made him inwardly smile.

At his side, the small girl crossed her arms, and assumed a stance much like she'd seen Mr. Merrin do plenty of times when he was being intimidating. Chin up, and thrust out, she pressed her lips together, and stared down, or in her case- up, at the one who dared to question her employer.

With deliberate casualness, Merrin opened the book to the date that Peter had came in, and then showed the book to him. "Is this not your signature sir? Directly below the list of ordered ingredients?"

Peter examined it, and then nodded. The Dark Lord was going to have his head for this mistake. "Y-y-yes."

"This shows that you did indeed look over the order after I wrote it out, and gave your okay that was indeed correct?" His eyes were icy, and he practically snarled the words.

"Y-y-yes…I m-must have made a m-mistake."

"Indeed you did, sir. I don't take kindly to having my reputation questioned either…" He leaned in, deliberately towering over the other man, "So I have only one thing to say to you…but…" He stepped aside just then, and smiled at Rafe. "I think I'll let my assistant do the honours. Rafe?"

At that cue, the indignant red-head pulled out her wand and pointed it at Peter. "Out you go! And you'd better not come back till you learn some manners, you thrice-bedamned bugger!"

He held in a snort of laughter, and pointed to the door. "I believe you've been asked to leave this establishment? Do not make us force the issue." The smile he gave was on the surface pleasant, but very threatening in reality.

Somewhere though, Peter found the wormy courage to sneer as best he could at Merrin. "My master will be most displeased. He had thought favorably of you, and was considering inviting you to join him."

That was the last straw. Merrin could be mean, arrogant, and hateful, but he was no death-eater. Pulling his wand out, he sent a powerful stinging hex at the man. "Get out of my shop, and tell your.Master…that he can kiss…my….arse!"

Beside him, Rafe gave a cheer, and stuck out her tongue at Peter before he left the shop.

It was almost closing time, and indeed Merrin had went to the door, preparing to flip the sign around, when a figure, obviously female by the shape of the body underneath the long black robes, swept passed him, and into the store. "Good day." He greeted her with some surprise, and disdain edging his voice at the proprietarily way she'd entered –his- shop.

"Mm. I wish to purchase…" The hood moved as the woman glanced around the store. "a magical watch please, the most expensive you have."

His senses tingled, there was something not quite right about this, the obvious on-the-spur purchase, and indeed her very voice told him something was wrong. However, he went behind the counter, and opened the back, bending down to retrieve their most costly watch, and thanking Merlin that Rafe was busy upstairs. Raising up, he closed the back, and then took the watch from its box, showing it to good advantage in the light. He had been wrong about people before, although it was rare. In any case, it was best to play ignorant until she showed her hand. "This watch is made from the-"

"Whatever. How much is it?" He blinked, playing up his disconcertion.

"It can be yours for 175 galleons." It was an outrageously high price, the watch truthfully wasn't even worth half that much.

"Done." She reach into her robes, and pulled out a small bag, which was enlarged with a wave of her wand, and then spilled the contents of it out onto the counter top. "There should be more than enough there."

He wasn't eager to touch the coins, and just nodded his head. "I'm sure that's more than enough, in fact, there looks like a few extra so I'll ju-"

"Mr. Merrin, guess what I di—" Rafe came bounding down the stairs, half her hair down from the bun she'd twisted and pinned it into early this morning. "Oh…I was…" Her eyes fell on the mysterious figure, and then went slowly to Arx, but her gaze was caught on the pile of galleons on the counter-top and grew wide. "Merlin! There must be…I dun even think wot—erm…that I could count that high."

The situation just got worse from there, when the female laughed in a way that brought shivers to both Merrin and Rafe's spine, and said, "How utterly charming! Is this your spawn, Merrin?"

Arx's eyes hardened, and he motioned Rafe over to him, and then held her to him with one arm in a gesture of apparent pride, but it was a move of protection for the small child. "I think of her as a daughter."

Although he couldn't see it, underneath the hood, heavily-hooded eyes gleamed at the unexpected bit of information, and Bellatrix Lestrange fought hard to suppress a cackle. Her Master would be so pleased! Thinking quickly, she said, "You must be very proud of her. Why not let her show off her skills?" In her much-hated baby voice, she said then to Rafe. "Would the wittle girl like to show off her skills and make her daddy pwoud?"

What Rafe responded, before Arx could open his mouth, made him want to laugh, and at the same time, scold the girl. "Well, if you'd speak proper to me, perhaps I'd answer you, but I'm almost school-age, I don't talk baby language no more, unlike –some- people."

"Why you little bi---" Bellatrix started to respond, but then forced herself to laugh. "Quite the bold child." She gritted out to Arx.

He arched one brow, and gave a slight nod in much the manner of Lucius Malfoy, although he'd had cursed anyone who mentioned the resemblance to him. "Indeed she is, I am quite proud of her." As he spoke, Rafe squirmed from his hold, and stepped up on the stool, opening the cash drawer so that she could start putting the gold away, for she'd been taught never to leave money laying.

He saw what she was doing just as her fingers made contact with the first galleon, and reach for her with a cry. His fingers made contact with her long curls just as the portkey activated, and they disappeared with a pop, leaving Bellatrix Lestrange cackling madly in the room before she turned over the sign in the door, deactivated the spell on the gold, and scooped it back up. Then she left the shop in much the same manner that she had entered it, and apparated away seconds later.

"Bloody 'ell!" The words slipped from the young girl, even as the older man protectively wrapped one arm around her, pulling him close, and drew his wand. He noted to himself that the words were quite fitting as he took in the area that they'd been transported to, but more importantly the terror-inspiring figure of Voldemort, who was standing not ten feet away, a smirk upon his serpentine face.

Arx knew then and there that they were going to die. Instantly, sadness filled him. Not for himself, but for the young girl he held. She was supposed to grow up, not die at the hands of this sick bastard. Just as quickly the sadness morphed into rage, and he squeezed her gently, trying to reassure her.

She was still against him, muscles quivering as she realized just who it was she had to be staring at, and he knew if he dared to look down at her, he'd find her eyes wide, and mouth slightly open in that way that just screamed Oh hell. "Its o…" He started to tell her it was okay, but swiftly stopped. He wouldn't lie to her. She didn't deserve to be lied to in her final moments. No one did. Instead he narrowed his eyes at Voldemort, taking a breath and then saying boldly. "You bloody bastard."

Voldemort arched his brows, evil red eyes widening in slight shock, and even a hint of amusement. All that he had heard about the shop-owner was turning out to be true. "Welcome, Mr. Merrin, even though you are the unexpected guest."

"Go ter hell!" The voice came not from him, but from the small girl still clutched against him. Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and he looked down at Rafe, pointing his wand at her, and Arx could tell he was thinking what curse would be most effective and fun. His stomach turned at the thought, and he brought his hand up to clap over her mouth, but stopped himself. No, this way, perhaps it would be better. Maybe Voldemort would kill her in a fit of pique instead of torturing her.

"Such a brave child." Voldemort murmured after a moment, and even Rafe wasn't oblivious to the perverse speculation going on the monster's mind.

"Unlike you, you bugger."

"CRUCIO!" The spell leapt from Voldemort's wand, and struck the small girl in the chest. Instantly, she began to scream, and thrashed about, muscles convulsing.

Arx saw red. "CRUCIO!" He fired back at the Dark Lord, who stopped his own spell in surprise, and Arx noted distantly that sweat actually appeared on his ugly face, even if he didn't scream. But the curse was draining to someone not use to it, and after a moment, he had to drop the spell. Even as he was doing so, though, he was sinking to his feet, gathering Rafe against him, and murmuring comforting words into her mass of hair. His eyes, though, never left Voldemort's, and his mind raced. What could he do? He couldn't allow her to be tortured. No. That wasn't an option. He couldn't bear to see the mischievous face of the girl who'd unofficially became his child contorted with pain, and then slack with insanity.

And he knew…deep inside…that there was only one way to make sure that didn't happen. His jaw set, he kept staring at Voldemort even as he placed the tip of his wand at Rafe's temple, causing her to look up at him in surprise.

"Mister Merrin?" She asked, eyes teary from the pain she'd just experienced, and fear showing openly.

His voice low, he asked her in an eerily calm tone, "What's your real name, Rafe?" He could feel the sorrow welling up, his body seeming to expand to make it fit alongside the determination inside him.

Voldemort and Arx continued their stare down even as she whispered "Harmony" to him.

He almost chuckled then. That was possibly the most unfitting name for this wretch he could have ever imagined. "It's been a pleasure knowing you, Harmony." He murmured quietly, his voice only for her ears. She tensed at the words, and then, too soon for him, she relaxed, and placed one small hand against his cheek. The words she said were too old, too wise, to come from this girl who would never even get a chance to attend Hogwarts, to grow up, to get married.

"A pleasure knowing you too, sir." She understood what he was going to do, and had in those simple words filled with warmth and respect, eased his mind.

"Avadaaa-" It was only then that he allowed his gaze to break from Voldemort's and locked his eyes with her beautiful gray ones, which were now filled with an ethereal peace.

Even as the green light flashed toward her as he finished the curse, she smiled at him.