Cuckoo!
Cuckoo!
Cuck-
Jack sprang out of bed; his hair wild and his eyes still half-way closed. He glanced at the clock; the short hand pointed toward the eight. Yawning, he began to rub out rheum from his eyes. For some reason he could not remember falling to sleep; he must have dozed off at his desk and subconsciously crawled into the bed. Stretching his arms out he rose out of bed and began to stumble toward the bathroom, grabbing a towel hanging on the bedpost.
He vaguely began to plan out his day while half-asleep in the shower. Not only would he buy the required books, but there were extra books he needed... for preparations against him.
Thank goodness that wizard plumbing systems were up to date; he couldn't imagine having to wash the old fashioned way, and it would be too much to explain to the muggle plumbers that there was a mysterious apartment between number eleven and thirteen.
Twisting the shower knob tightly, he began to step out of the bathroom filled with steam; putting his bath robe on he collapsed to the bed.
He felt so lazy.
But, no rest for the wicked; after 5 minutes to doing nothing he sat up and began to change his clothing.
He sat on his desk, and took a deep breath.
He called out: "Kreacher!"
With a crack, the said elf appeared before him.
"Yes Master Black?"
"I'm planning to get some supplies today..."
"I wish you a safe trip master."
"Yeah. Thanks. And then after that, I plan to spend the rest of the summer in the Burrow-"
Jack finished hurriedly when he saw Kreacher opening his mouth.
"-With you."
Kreacher slowly closed in mouth.
Jack held his breath; he fully well knew that Kreacher did not appreciate the presence of so called "Blood Traitors".
"...The Weasleys, master?"
"Yeah."
Several long seconds passed.
"I would be delighted."
Jack breathed in relief. "Perfect. You won't have to see them any more than necessary."
The elf slowly nodded.
"But first thing's first; I'll be going now!"
"Be back soon, master."
"No worries; I won't be gone for long."
Jack walked up to the fireplace; taking out his wand, he gave a tap at the logs.
"Incendio."
The logs slowly began to go ablaze. Grabbing a handful of floo powder from the silver cauldron sitting on the side, Jack threw them inside and entered the fire.
"Leaky Cauldron!"
And he was gone.
Jack immediately saw the stone floor speeding toward him; it was only his hands that saved his head from being busted. Standing up, he began to dust himself off; floo travel really disorientated him.
"Why, hello Mr. Black."
Jack looked up to see Tom, the innkeeper behind the counter with amused expression.
"Hello Mr. Tom." Jack politely replied. "I'm here to buy my supplies for the school."
"Ahh," Mr. Tom smiled. "It's that time of the year again."
"Yes sir."
"I wonder; what books do they make you read this year?"
Jack took out his booklist from his bag and handed toward Tom.
Taking out and wearing his pince-nez, began to go down the list. He clicked his tongue.
"Oh, this won't do at all." He shook his head. "Why, seven out of eight books were written by this Lockhart fellow! I do wonder who he is. Why, the only thing I know about him is that he won the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times!"
"Five times." Jack repeated slowly. He suddenly found himself sitting on a chair.
"Yes, five times. He is what all witches talk about." Tom chuckled as he took out a glass. "Tea?"
"Sure. Thank you."
"Ah, I do remember my own time in Hogwarts..." Tom began to take out a kettle and poured the tea into the cup.
"Long time ago, wasn't it, sir?"
"Yes indeed." Tom nodded. "Professor Armando Dippet was the Headmaster at the time, and goodness me, he is still alive." Tom heartily chuckled. "He might not live longer, I'm afraid."
"Why, when was he born?" Jack asked, sipping on the cup of tea.
"Oh, 1630's, or around that." Tom nonchalantly replied.
Jack spit out his tea to the side and began to cough as Tom laughed at his reaction. "Yes, over 3 centuries; now that's a long life!"
"Gee." Jack wiped his mouth. "I hope to live that long."
"You and me, Mr. Black. You and me."
"Well, I gotta get going." Jack placed the empty cup on the counter. "Thank you for the tea, Mr. Tom."
"Anytime my lad."
Jack walked up to the multistoried marble building towering above all other shops. A goblin was stationed outside the bronze doors. He bowed as Jack walked up the stairs; Jack lowered in head in response. He came up to silver door guarded by a pair of goblins, bowing as he entered.
Hundreds of goblins were sitting behind long counters in the vast marble hall. Counting coins, writing down notes, weighing rubies on large brass scales. Many goblins were showing people in and out through countless doors.
Jack went up to a free goblin.
"Hello. I would like to take some gold out of vault 711, please."
The goblin lowered his head, peering above the top rim of his glasses toward Jack.
"Identification?"
Jack blinked.
"Identification? As in..."
"Your wand will do."
Jack took out his wand and gave it to the goblin. He examined the wand.
"Seems to be in the right order." Goblin gave his wand back. "Come this way, please."
Jack followed the goblin into one of the doors leading out of the hall. The door opened to the narrow stone passageway, with a cart ready on the rails; Jack and the goblin stepped into the cart. They began to go down very deeply into the passageway, twisting and turning in circles.
After a while they stopped right beside a small door on the side of the tunnel. Jack and the goblin hopped off, as the goblin touched the door with his finger; the door swung open, releasing masses of greens smoke.
"Am I able to do that?" Jack asked.
"If anyone else besides the goblins tried to do that, they would be sucked right in, with no way out."
"Hmm." Jack peered inside the vault when the smoke cleared.
The vault was filled with grandeur of Black Family treasures; heaps upon heaps of coins pilled on to the ceiling. Items such as goblets, flasks, and etc were piled on the bottom.
Jack's mouth fell open.
"Yeah... Give me a second here." Jack stepped into the vault. "I gotta look at these sweet objects."
The goblin crossed his arms and waited, leaning on the door.
Jack wished he had multiple eyes; the treasures in his vault seemed like they were taken out of the treasure cave of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, or taken out of the cave of Smaug in the Lonely Mountains of the town of Dale. He began to examine the precious objects on the ground; silver goblets with Black family crest embossed on them, rings, necklaces, bracelets, elaborate daggers, mirrors, and other precious objects littered on the ground.
One particular item caught his eyes; a thin hip flask on the ground. It was made of silver, four inches long and one inch thick. It had a piece of black obsidian in a shape of capital B encrusted on the front of the flask, while on the back there were white lining of the words: Toujours Pur.
Upon opening the flask he found a mysterious liquid inside with little viscosity, swirling inside the container.
Shrugging, Jack slowly pocketed the flask.
After 5 minutes of looking around, Jack regained his wit and began to scoop in some coins inside his bag; slugging it over his shoulders he walked back to the door.
"Ok, thanks for waiting; I'm done now."
The goblin closed the door and stepped into the cart.