Being Borgins
Disclaimer - Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling
A/N - written for the QLFC final round 1
Prompt- Write about a shopkeeper in Knockturn Alley
Additional prompts- (dialogue) "I knew you wouldn't be able to see through it.", (word) Obsession, (quote) 'Money is the root of all money.' — Unknown
Word Count - 1908
March 1883
It was a dark and gloomy evening in Knockturn Alley. Inside the White Wyvern Ichabod Borgin was staring at the entrance as if he was waiting for someone. Just then another boy entered. He was around the same age as Ichabod but he was more aggressive had a scar over one eye, his clothes were torn which indicate he must've got himself in some fight. He sat beside Ichabod with a thump, a frown furrowing his forehead. It was clear that he was worried about something. Ichabod decided to use it for his own profit
"You look worried, is there is there anything I can help with?" Ichabod asked, his
voice sweet as honey. The other boy looked up sharply
"Last time I checked, you weren't the bartender," said the other boy coldly.
Though Ichabod didn't like the tone, he spoke again, even more sweetly.
"Dear friend, I can see there's something bothering you. If I can help you, please tell me."
The other boy scoffed at histone, but spoke with a roll of his eyes.
"I want to open a shop here, but I don't have enough money," he said. Immediately Ichabod pulled out a pouch and gave it to the boy.
"Here take this, five hundred gallons. I think this would be enough," Ichabod offered, but the boy didn't take it.
"Who are you and why you're giving this much money for my cause?" he asked.
Ichabod just chuckled.
"'Money is the root of all money, my friend," he said,then extended his hand.
"Ichabod Borgin."
"Caractacus Burke," said the the boy, finally shaking Ichabod's hand. Ichabod inwardly groaned though this man wasn't a pureblood he knew how to use him
Summer 1876
His mother once said 'he was too curious for his age'. It turned out to be true when thirteen year old Ichabod saw his father hiding a box in his study. The older man looked agitated and tense, and it looked as if the object in his hands was to blame. Once his father left, the oily haired boy entered the room. Cautiously, he approached the place where is his father had hidden that box. He looked back to make sure that his father wasn't coming, and then he opened the box. Inside laid a circular object made of blue glass, it resembled a pince-nez, but it definitely wasn't one. Quickly Ichabod picked up the box and left.
"Oh Enoch, where are you?, I've an interesting thing for us to play with today," Ichabod called in fake sugary sweet voice. On cue his stepbrother showed up. Ichabod had never liked that bastard and his mudblood mother, and don't know why his father had married her. However, he was useful as a test subject.
"What is it, Ichabod?" asked the younger boy. He looked scared, and was probably confused as to why Ichabod was suddenly being nice. Ichabod flashed his teeth like a vampire would, and spoke.
"Look what I found in our store room." With that he opened the box and showed the object to other boy. But Enoch did not look impressed
"Are you sure you found it in store room?" Enoch asked. Ichabod narrowed his eyes but he controlled his temper and spoke with an even sweeter voice.
"Oh brother mine, don't you trust me? Now, place it over your eye," Ichabod said. Enoch did as told, but when nothing happened he spoke.
"Can I remove it?"
"No," Ichabod snapped.
Enoch sighed, and opened his eyes. The blue object started to glow. With a flash of blinding light Enoch shouted out, then fell quiet. Ichabod looked his stepbrother closely who was opening and closing his eyes rapidly. Without a second though, he snatched back the object from Enoch who was rubbing at his eyes.
"Ichabod, Ichabod what happened, why is it dark in here?" asked Enoch.
Ichabod started to back away.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ichabod said innocently.
"What did you do to me? I can't see anything, I can't see!" shouted Enoch. Ichabod ignored his stepbrother's cries and left the room.
Fifteen year old Ichabod entered a tent where an old woman was waiting for him. She had pale, wrinkled skin and ice blue eyes. She looked fierce,
"Ah Ichabod Borgin. What brings you here?"
"You're an oracle, you should've know why I'm here," Ichabod said sarcastically. He Opened the box. The oracle's eyes widened upon seeing the object.
"How did you get it?" she asked, but Ichabod wasn't in the mood to answer questions.
"Tell me about it, right now," he demanded.
The woman chuckled and took the object in her han. " You are such impatient boy Borgin. This is the eye of Shangra La. It gives the power to foresee the future to those who possess it," she explained, but upon seeing Borgin's brightened face she spoke again.
"I must warn you, only powerful wizards and seers can use it. You won't be able to."
"Didn't worry, I'm not planning to use it," Ichabod said with a sly grin .
It had been years since Ichabod had established Borgins and Burkes with his business partner. Though things were going great and they made plenty of money he and Burke didn't always see eye to eye. Tthe fact that Burke wasn't a pureblood had always nagged at Ichabod. Also Burke was very greedy, even though he had a great nose for business. The opening of the front door brought Ichabod out of his thoughts. He looked up to see a woman with dull face, soulless eyes and pale skin approaching the counter. Quickly Ichabod plastered fake smile on his face
"Good afternoon Madam, how can help you? You should buy the necklace of the fair maiden, it'll enhance your beauty," flattered Ichabod. The woman looked up, and it seemed as if she was on verge of crying. She pulled out a chain from the pocket on her skirt and placed it on the counter. Ichabod's eyes widened when he saw what it was.
It was the locket of Salazar Slytherin.
Ichabod could barely conceal his surprise. How could it be that a woman, barely more than a beggar, could possess the locket of Salazar Slytherin? Perhaps she'd stolen it… not that it would matter.
"May I ask you, where did you get this locket?" Ichabod inquired.
"It is a family heirloom... this locketis all I have. Please, I'm in urgent need of money," she begged. Seeing that the woman was vulnerable, Ichabod smirked
"I'm sorry, but this locket isn't worth more than 10 gallions, if you don't want-" before he could complete his sentence, the woman shoved the locket in his hands. Ichabod immediately pulled out 10 gallions and sealed the deal. The woman left as quietly as she came.
"Good day Madam, nice doing business with you," Ichabod called after her. He turned around and come face to face with Burke who looked disapproving.
"What have you done? You gave 10 gallons to that bitch for this, this piece of crap!" shouted Burke. Ichabod was completely unfazed. He wasn't scared of the other wizard.
"I knew you wouldn't be able to see through it," Ichabod said, then shoved the locket in Burke's face and spoke.
"This is no ordinary locket. This is the locket of Salazar Slytherin. That foolish woman don't knew it's worth... but I know," Ichabod said haughtily. It was true Burke had the business skills and persuasive talents, but it was Borgin who was the expert in identifying dark artefacts.
It was a lazy afternoon when a old wizard entered with his daughter. She had honey coloured hair, rosy cheeks and vibrant blue eyes. Immediately Ichabod was on his feet.
"Good afternoon Master Cromwell, Miss Cromwell," his voice much softer when he greeted the girl.
"Afternoon Borgin, I would like to see your new stock,if you have any," said the older man.
"Burke, come and show Master Cromwell our new inventory," Ichabod ordered. Burke glared at him, but came and started to speak to the older man. Ichabod approached the girl, who was looking around in astonishment.
"See anything you like, Miss Cromwell? How about siren's flute, it'll make every man your slave, though your beauty is enough not to need it," Ichabod praised.
"No thanks, Mr Borgin, I don't need anything," the girls said. She shifted uncomfortably where she stood as Ichabod stared down at her. Just then, her father called.
"Splendora, let's go!"
After the father and daughter left, Ichabod kept staring at the door. He'd never thought that something otherthan magical artefact would gain his interest.
Over the course of weeks Ichabod sent many gifts and letters to Splendora Cromwell but he received no reply, until one day he received a letter which told him to visit the countryside.
It was the happiest day of Ichabod's life. He reached the place where he was supposed to meet Splendora. On his way there he'd acquired an ancient dagger which was quite priceless and it was sitting heavily in his pocket. He saw Splendora standing outside a cottage, while her house-elves were nowhere to be seen.
"Hello Splendora," he greeted with a smile,but the witch just glared at him.
"It's Miss Cromwell to you, and who do you think you are, Mr Borgin, sending me all those letters?"
"I love you, Miss Cromwell," proclaimed Ichabod, but Splendora started to laugh. It was cold and sarcastic
"Are you serious! You think you're worthy of me.. a Cromwell? We're direct descendants of Merlin himself, while you are a lowly wizard who runs ashady shop. I don't think you're even a pureblood," mocked Splendora.
Something snapped inside Ichabod. He pulled out the dagger and stabbed her rapidly. When he was sure the bitch had actually died, he apparted away.
When Ichabod reach the shop he was in very bad mood. Just then Burke came out from a back room. He looked Ichabod up and down, and then spoke.
"What's with the sour face? Things don't go well with Cromwell bitch, or you didn't get the dagger?" asked Burke. On the mention of Splendora Ichabod's blood boiled.
"Shut up, Burke!" he shouted, throwing the blood stained dagger on table. Burke eyed his business partner with suspicion but said nothing. He was probably relieved that Ichabod was no longer obsessed with her, as he had claimed that it was affecting the business. Burke picked the dagger and took it inside, and Ichabod was glad to see it gone.
Ichabod was muttering darkly when the front door opened. In walked Thaddeus Lestrange and his sons. Both boys were looking around in interest, peering at the artifacts. Immediately Ichabod was on his feet. When the trio approached the counter, Ichabod spoke in a honey like voice.
"Good evening gentlemen, how can I help you?"
After a not so successful deal with the Lestranges, Ichabod went to his favourite place The White Wyvern. He took a long swing from his glass of firewhiskey. He didn't need any woman in his life as long as he have his one true love, his business.