Knock, Knock, Knockturn Alley

Trackleshanks Locksmiths

Mahoutokoro, Year 7

Main Prompt: (song) Run Boy Run

Additional Prompts: (character type) A Turncoat, (setting) your theme setting, Trackleshanks Locksmiths

Word Count: 972

Thank you, NinjaDevil2000 and 3cheersforidiots for betaing.

Trackleshanks Locksmiths

His knees felt week as his feet touched the hard ground. He felt dizzy and disoriented. Forcing his eyes to open, he checked his surroundings. Annoyed with how long it took his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he bit his lip, drawing blood. Looking around, he sighed in relief. Yes, this was Diagon Alley and no, he had not splinched. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The loud crack of Apparition was audible a few meters behind him. They hadn't even given him time to recover from apparating. Before he was stable on his own feet, he started to run. He had a hard time finding his way through the dark Alley; it looked so different than during the day.

He was terrified of not finding the right cross street. Knockturn Alley was even more sinister in the darkness. At first, he tried to sneak and remain hidden, but upon hearing footsteps behind him, he realized he was being tracked, they were catching up on him and he ought to be quicker. He didn't know how many people were behind him, but they were throwing curses at him.

He dodged a curse. Not having enough time to breathe, he continued running. Seeing the archway leading to Horizontal Alley, he knew he was close. He slowed down, taking his time to identify the right door. It stressed him that his eyes had not yet accommodated to the dark, when they were gaining on him, getting closer and closer.

He tried to open the door, to no avail. He couldn't have come all the way from home for nothing. He cast Alohomora and a string of other spells but it didn't help either. He was rocking on the door but the massive wood didn't give way.

Steps were coming closer and closer. It became almost impossible to dodge all the curses and hexes thrown at him. He sent a couple of nasty jinxes after them. He must have hit at least one of them as the guy started screaming loudly.

A window above him opened. "Come back during business hours," a wizard yelled at him from the window.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he cried and brought the wizard down to the ground. He had thin grey hair and a crooked nose. Black hair were growing out of the huge wart that marked his chin.

The elderly wizard was still wearing his pajamas. He grabbed the frail man by his nightgown and made him face the people who were chasing him. "Do I look like I have time to waste?"

The elderly wizard placed his hand on the door and it swung open. They stumbled inside and he locked and sealed the door behind them.

"Are you sure they can't get through?" he asked.

"I sell locks. Mine are the best," the older wizard said. "That's why you're here, after all, isn't it? I'm Mr. Trackleshanks, but who are you? Why are you being hunted?"

"Mind your own business," he snapped.

"As you wish. But remember, I can throw you out at any time."

He groaned. Taking a step towards the old wizard, he lifted his hood. His greasy raven hair still covered most of his face.

The wizard assessed him. "I know you. You're that Death Eater teacher. Hasn't your trial been held today? Congratulations on bewitching the Wizengamot. You're officially a free man."

Snape stared at the elderly wizard and grunted.

"I have dealt with worse wizards than you, boy. What do you want to do? Run to Dumbledore?" Mr. Trackleshanks laughed at the young potions master.

Snape grumbled. It wasn't his fault that those dunderhead members of the Wizengamot scheduled his trial for the summer break, the only time he wasn't safely hidden away in Hogwarts, and now, he was running from some people he neither knew nor cared about.

"Who's after you? The family of your victims or your former associates?"

"Are you interested in selling me a lock and seal or in chatting?" Snape asked.

The elderly wizard walked behind the counter and retrieved a collection of locks. There was a plain copper one that didn't look very strong, but it cost only a Galleon. There was also a golden one. It was ornamental, and Snape wondered if it was actually made for protection and not only for show. It looked more like something a lady would buy.

His gaze wandered to an old-looking wrought iron one. It was massive and it seemed to ooze magic. He was sure its spells wouldn't be broken easily, but its price was also massive.

"10 Galleons for one simple lock?" Snape asked.

"If you don't like my prices, you can always go elsewhere," Mr. Trackleshanks snapped.

Severus stared at the elderly grumpy wizard.

"11."

"Huh?" Snape asked, confused.

"12 Galleons. I would make up my mind quickly."

Snape withdrew a few coins from his pocket. "8 Galleons and not a single knut more." He held his wand against the elderly's cheek.

"And who is going to key you in?"

"You will or I'll hex you. If I find your services satisfactory, then and only then I might find another Galleon or two in my pocket," Snape hissed as a small flame appeared at the tip of his wand. The longer Mr. Trackleshanks hesitated, the bigger and hotter the flame became.

Suddenly, the elderly wizard took a needle and rammed it into Snape's hand. The young wizard let out a groan.

"Did this hurt?" Mr. Trackleshanks mocked. "I need a drop of your blood to key you into the wards. If you want your family to be able to come and go, you need me to key them in as well, but that costs extra."

"No, thanks," Snape spat. He dropped a Galleon on the floor. "For your pleasant services."