Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Hardin Potter. Therefore, all of this incredible universe where this fanfiction will take place belongs to J. K. Rowling. No profit, except my entertainment, is being made.
Request: As I'm from Brazil, English is not my first language, so the story contains some grammar mistakes. Therefore, I'm searching for a beta. If anyone is willing to try and give me some help, please send me a PM.
The Knockturn Alley
Outside the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop, leaning against the window shop, Hardin was impatiently waiting for Ren's arrival. They had agreed to meet up at nine o'clock in the morning, yet, almost half an hour had passed, and Ren still hadn't shown up. At least, the new winter cloak he had received from Mrs Bagshot was helping to keep him warm against the cold weather.
Ever since Godric's Hollow events, it was safe to say that his humor wasn't very light. How could it be? He had just found out he was truly Harry Potter - the firstborn of Lily and James Potter, who was abandoned after that Halloween night.
No one could manage to be happy after learning such kind of information.
And, even though he had never been a very emotional person, during these last few days, it seemed that nothing could heal the pain he felt within his heart nor stop the tears from falling. It just pained him to know that the people who should have loved him more than anything had been the ones to give up on him.
It felt as if he had never been enough in his life.
He wasn't good enough to be a Potter. He was called mediocre in the orphanage, and, even now, in Hogwarts, he wasn't the brilliant student he desired to be. His parents even had other children after him, and none of them were kicked out as he had. Therefore, why had he been so insignificant for them? Was he indeed worse than the others? Inferior?
Although he wasn't proud to say it, at times, he would catch himself looking at the picture Mrs Bagshot had shown him of his fourth birthday, wondering how different his life could have been if only they had decided to keep him.
He wanted to be tough and say that he didn't give a damn about the Potters, but this wasn't the truth. Knowing about their rejection hurt had caused him more damage than anything else. Another part of him, however, daily pondered if he should try to reach them, maybe sending a letter and hope to be accepted back. But, this idea quickly vanished once he remembered that they pretended as if he had never existed - this thought would always bring him back to reality.
In the end, everything was just a big mixture of emotions that he had no idea how to deal with.
Hopefully, today, he would distract his mind for a bit, as he would be spending the day with Ren. He had considered talking with Ren about his situation and telling him everything because he knew this would help him let go of a bit of the weight on his shoulders. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure if he could trust Ren this much.
Although now he had many friends, it felt as if he was alone all over again.
"Hardin!"
As he heard Ren's unmistakable voice, he turned his head around just in time to see the taller boy closing the Quality Quidditch Supplies door with the shop's bags in his arms.
Hearing Ren calling him Hardin made him remember that he didn't even know who he was anymore. Was he Harry or Hardin? Also, it made him wonder where in hell had the name Hardin Sayre come from? Had the Potters picked up this name for him? If so, why?
He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. Today was not the day to worry about Harry Potter and Hardin Sayre. He still had a lot of time to decide what he was going to do with his life.
"You've been inside there for all this time?"
"Yeah," Ren said as he approached him, "I had some Christmas shopping to do."
"You could've warned." Hardin complained, "I've been freezing here waiting for you because we had agreed to meet outside the shop."
"Oh, don't start whining around." Ren rolled his eyes, giving a soft punch on Hardin's arm, "With this fancy cloak of yours, you probably didn't even feel brisk. Is it new?"
"Yes, an early Christmas gift."
"It looks good." He said, "Well, either way, I was getting your Christmas gift - the new Falmouth Falcons robes. So, I think I can be forgiven for being a bit late."
"Thank you, Ren."
"Don't mention," Ren replied, "Honestly, I just hope you remember that we've agreed that you'd make my holiday assignments as my Christmas gift."
"Don't worry. It's already done."
"Really?" Ren asked. "We've only been here for four days, and you've already finished everything?"
"Yeah, I've been trying to keep my mind busy lately."
Ren frowned, "Something bothering you? You look too serious - even for your standards."
"I'm fine," He lied, "Just too many things in my head."
"If you need something, you know you just have to say it, right?" Ren said, and Hardin simply nodded in return. "Well, we should get going. My grandpa is waiting for us."
"We are going to spend the day with your grandpa?"
"Yeah, sort of." Ren said, while leading their way through the crowded streets of the Diagon Alley, "My grandpa had plans for me today and he only mentioned it yesterday. As I had agreed to spend the day with you, I asked him if you could come along. He said yes, which is why you are coming as well."
Hardin sighed. This was not what he had in mind for today. Was it too much to ask for a single nice and regular day?
"Don't worry. My grandpa is fun." Ren insisted, "And after he frees us, we can spend the day in Gambol & Japes or eating sweets at Sugarplum's shop."
"What are we going to do with your grandfather?"
"We'll probably meet some friends of his, hear them talking about something and then he'll question us about it." Ren explained, "He makes this for when I am of age, I can run the family business. But, honestly, it's not like I've learned anything at all with these meetings."
"Sounds fascinating," Hardin said sarcastically.
"Oh yeah, you've no idea how fascinating it is. At least for you, it will be just one time. For me, it's nearly every day that I spend with him." Ren said, "But, trust me, these things normally don't last for long and I dare to say you'll think this is interesting, considering how much of a swot you are."
"Shouldn't your father be with him instead of you? I mean, he should be the next in line to succeed your grandfather, right?"
Hardin noticed a slight flinch on Ren's face - perhaps it was annoyance. Now, if the annoyance was regarding who made the question or the topic of the question, Hardin didn't know but had his suspicions. After all, ever since they had started to talk, Ren had not even once mentioned his mother or father but would always talk highly about his great-grandfather, Caractacus Burke - who he normally would refer to as grandpa. Therefore, it wasn't so hard to conclude there was something wrong with his family.
'Perhaps this was a wizarding thing,' He thought, 'No child can have normal families.'
At last, Ren said, "My father is unable at the moment, which is why I do his job."
"Oh," Hardin said, a bit unsure, "So, you are spending Christmas with your grandfather?"
"Unfortunately not. I'll stay with him until Christmas Eve, and then I'll have to go home." He replied with close to no enthusiasm. "What about you? How are your holidays going? Enjoying your time with your family?"
He almost laughed. This was a proper question for the moment.
"If we are honest, I'd rather have stayed in Hogwarts."
"Maybe next year we both should stay there rather than coming back."
"Sounds good to me."
"It's a deal then."
"Have you been talking with Alyssa lately?" Ren asked, taking a bit of the frost from one of the window shops and throwing it in Hardin's direction, who deflected it just in time.
"I have. She sent me a letter two days ago, I reckon. Why?"
"Has she mentioned that Daphne is spending the holidays with her?"
"Are you trying to ask me if I know about Daphne's father in St. Mungos?" Hardin asked with a raised eyebrow. Sometimes this thing Ren did of being blunt and wandering around too much, instead of just asking, annoyed him.
"I was getting there," Ren said, "I just didn't want to spread gossip."
"Well, I know about it. What do you want to ask?"
"Don't you think it's ridiculous how he almost killed himself with a plant?" Ren said, snorting. "I mean, it would be one thing if he worked with crazy creatures and got hurt in his job. But working with plants and getting injured? That's so bloody pathetic."
Considering how Ren underappreciated Herbology, it was quite predictable that he would have this vision regarding the accident. However, if Ren had bothered to give a simple look to his Herbology book, he would have noticed that the plant in question was capable of paralyzing a dragon, not hard to wonder what it could do with a human.
"I do agree that it doesn't sound like the most heroic thing, but the plant was quite powerful. I read that its smell can even paralyze a dragon. Can you imagine how strong it has to be? "
"It's still a plant. He should've set it on fire, or whatever." Ren said as if this statement could break any argument Hardin presented to him, which is why he gave up trying. "Either way, now you know why she looked sad."
"Yeah," Hardin said, wondering if he should or shouldn't send the girl a letter, "But I would prefer if she was just homesick."
After a bit of walking, they stopped in front of a gloomy corridor of shops, which resembled a bit the Diagon Alley, but lacked the magical and fantastic feeling. Instead, it presented a very mysterious and unfriendly aura. Honestly, this was the sort of place any sane person would avoid. Even the people in there seemed somewhat threatening.
"Now, this, my friend, is the entrance to Knockturn Alley." Ren said as if this was the most incredible place on earth, "There's another passage in the White Wyvern, but this is the one most people use."
"What's the White Wyvern?" Hardin asked. Today was a day he could ask whatever he wanted because there were no expectations for him, as most families tried to keep their children far away from the Knockturn Alley.
"It's a pub, sort of our version of the Leaky Cauldron. Though I wouldn't recommend you to go there by yourself." Ren explained. "Not a very well frequented place, you see, but you can find nearly everything there."
"Got it."
"Do you remember when I told you Victoria's father was a pureblood from an old family and all?"
"Yeah." Hardin said, "Gave up his family name to marry her mother or something of the kind."
"Exactly," Ren said and then pointed to the first shop of the corridor, Sponsio, which was the most crowded of the area. "This shop belongs to her father's family - the Travers. It's worth quite a great amount of money."
"What do they sell?"
For a second, Ren looked at him confused, but then his face came back to normal, "I keep forgetting that you don't know much of Latin... Either way, Sponsio means betting. Thus, it's a betting shop."
"Quidditch bettings?"
Ren gave him a crooked smile, "That's what they tell the aurors."
"What do they bet on then?"
"The Underground duels, creatures fights, this sort of thing." Ren said in a lower tone of voice, "My grandpa has been trying to buy this place for ages, but lady Travers never takes the offer."
"What's an underground duel?"
"It's an unofficial and, well, quite illegal duelling championship that happens in the undergrounds - obviously. Normally, people that have just got out of Azkaban try to make some money there. But, according to the Ministry, it doesn't exist." Ren commented, "Unforgivables are used there as if they were nothing."
Now, this seemed an interesting thing to see. "Have you ever seen one?"
"Not yet." He said, "But grandpa took me to see a fight between a griffin and a hippogriff last year, and it was incredible. The poor hippogriff didn't stand a chance."
"I guess this isn't legal as well."
"Let me teach your first lesson about the Knockturn Alley, Hardin," Ren said, "None of the things that have its origins in here are legal."
"Then why doesn't the Ministry close the Knockturn Alley?"
Ren shrugged, "They try every single year, ever since Potter took over the Investigation Department. But, obviously, they've never managed it."
"Why is he so interested in the Knockturn Alley?" Hardin asked. Although the Potters weren't in his best thoughts, he couldn't help but want to know a bit more about his father. Whether they wanted to or not, they were once family.
"That's what my grandpa has been trying to figure out for years. Bloody Potter is totally obsessed with the Knockturn Alley, and no one knows why...I mean, we never did anything against him, yet he acts as if it's something personal." Ren complained with a frown, "Besides, why in hell is this man even working? He's rich and has already fought in a war. Why keep searching after trouble? A total idiot, if you ask me."
Hardin said nothing, simply added these questions to his long list.
As they walked around the Knockturn Alley, Ren showed him all of the shops that some of their housemates' families owned, making special mentions to the richer ones or those he considered more interesting.
"Do you remember Gwen?"
"Yeah, it's quite hard to forget the girl who made Lucian's head three times its size."
"Can you guess which shop her family owns?"
It was easy to spot which one belonged to her: Noggin and Bonce. The dark and strange-looking shop had dozens of heads exposed, claiming to possess heads of all sizes. Apparently, they were making a clearance of shrunken heads.
"Lucian was bloody lucky that she didn't turn his head into her shop's merchandise."
"Yes, he was," Ren said, grinning.
Hardin couldn't help but notice that the people in the Knockturn Alley seemed to have a certain amount of respect for Ren. Most shopkeepers, for instance, would greet him as he walked past their store. Some even came to give him messages to pass for his grandpa. Not difficult to understand his family was important in this area.
When they arrived at the 13B section of the Knockturn Alley, Hardin was quick to notice Ren's family shop, Borgin and Burkes. Not the most interesting-looking shop in the Alley, honestly.
"Who's Borgin?"
"My great-grandmother's brother." Ren said with no enthusiasm, "He's a right numpty."
'Definitely something wrong with his family.' Hardin thought. In a way, it felt good to know that other people also had problems in their lives - it made his life seem a little less miserable.
They entered the shop, and, compared to the other shops he had seen, this was quite large, though rather dusty and dimly lit as there was only one large stone fireplace giving light to the area. It wasn't a very friendly-looking place, but it contained a few cool-looking stuff, such as a shining armour standing in the middle of the room. The price tag of it was simply unbelievable - he couldn't imagine someone having enough money to buy it.
"It's goblin made," Ren told him as if this information could explain everything.
In the corner of the shop, an older man, with the same incoherent aura as Ren, was calmly talking with a much younger man, who seemed taken by his nerves.
Ren made him a sign to stay in silence, and they moved to the second floor of the shop, in a position that allowed them to see the two men talking. Hardin quickly realised that the object of discussion was a good-looking necklace, which neither of the men dared to touch with bare hands.
"This is going to be good," Ren whispered to him. "My grandpa has been waiting for him to come by for a few days. He made quite a mess in a muggle pub some days ago."
"How do you know?"
"We read about supernatural events in a muggle newspaper, then we went to visit some muggles and talked with a few friends in the Ministry..." Ren explained, "Eventually, we found out about Willy."
Both boys stopped talking and got their attention towards the discussion happening between the two men. Hardin was quite impressed by the calmness Mr Burke presented, even if Willy, the younger man, had just insulted him in every single way that Hardin thought it was possible.
"I know that this is worth more than twenty galleons, Burke. Cut the crap!" The younger man said, trying to sound imponent but not doing a very good job. If Hardin had to guess, he would say that the man was quite desperate to get rid of the necklace. "I won't accept less than two hundred galleons for it."
Mr Burke laughed and Hardin heard Ren chuckling.
"What an idiot," Ren whispered to him. Meanwhile, Hardin was thinking about all of the wonders he could do with two hundred galleons - it seemed like a fortune.
Also, was Ren's family rich enough to buy a two hundred galleons necklace? Considering the price of the armour, he realised two hundred galleons were almost nothing for them. He had always imagined that Edwin and Bedivere were the rich ones of his year - at least, they were the ones to be more boastful - but, perhaps, he was mistaken.
"Willy, my boy, this tone of voice doesn't suit you well." Mr Burke said with the same crooked smile that Ren possessed. Honestly, the similarity was disturbing, "Now, tell me, how is your job in the Ministry going?"
Willy's face darkened, "Let's keep the Ministry out of this, Burke."
"Alright. Let's talk about divination then," Mr Burke said in good humour, causing Ren to snort. "Do you like Divination, Willy?"
"We are talking about business, Burke, not stupidity."
"You see, Willy, in my family, we have a bit of seer blood within us. I can almost always predict my customers' destiny when they talk to me." Mr Burke said, ignoring Willy's complaints, "Do you want to know what I see in your future, Willy?"
Hardin was sure Wily's hands were shaking, but he managed to reply, "No."
Turning to Ren, he asked, whispering, "Is this true? The seer blood thing?"
Just by looking at Ren's face, he knew it was a lie. Regardless, Ren replied, "Of course not. Divination is the purest art of nonsense. My grandpa is just messing with him."
"I shall tell you nonetheless." Mr Burke chuckled and placed a few galleons in front of Willy. "In your future, I see you giving me this necklace, taking these twelve galleons for it, walking out of my shop and never coming back."
"I don't see that happening, Burke."
"Have I mentioned we belong to a different kind of seers lineage, Willy? I can see the people's past as well. And what I see in your past, Willy, happened two weeks ago, in a muggle pub, and, surprisingly, this same Opal Necklace was there. Am I getting the story correctly, Willy?"
Willy had gone pale, "I-I don't know what you are talking about."
"I reckon you do, Willy." Mr Burke insisted, "Two weeks ago, you went to that muggle pub on Brixton, carrying this necklace. You've placed it in the girl's toilet and waited for something funny to happen. However, it turned out nothing funny happened. Instead, a twenty-one-year-old girl found the necklace and, as soon as she touched it, she was thrown up until the ceiling and down to the ground - multiple times - which wrecked her bones and caused her death. Of course, this without mentioning the burning pain she must have felt as..."
"Stop it!"
"You've killed a young muggle girl and injured dozens of others, Willy." Mr Burke said calmly, emphasizing every word, "What do you think people are going to do about it once they realise a Ministry's employee has killed a muggle? I tell you what will happen: you will receive a one-way passage to Azkaban."
Willy's face was red and his eyes were getting watery, "Y-You can't prove anything."
"Reynard," Mr Burke called, "What's the name of that auror again?"
"Pius Thickness, sir."
"Have you ever heard of him, Willy?"
Willy nodded.
"Good. Then you should know that Pius Thickness is a good friend of Reynard's parents." Mr Burke said, "And I've heard he has a desire to reach a position inside Wizengamot in the next elections and I am sure that apprehending the responsible for bringing the Opal Necklace to a muggle pub would do wonders to his reputation. Don't you agree?"
Willy stayed in silence - in Hardin's opinion, he was about to faint. Mr Burke made Ren a discreet sign with his hand, out of the reach of Willy's eyes.
"Should I call Uncle Pius then, sir?"
Mr Burke gave Ren a fake scolding look and removed two galleons from the pile in front of Willy, "Now, Reynard, that's not how we treat our customers. What do I always tell you? We are here to help. We do not wish for our friend Willy to go to a trial, lose his job, or and be sent to Azkaban, do we?"
"Of course not, sir."
Mr Burke then turned to Willy, placing a hand on his shoulder, "You have no wish to get a life sentence to Azkaban, do you, son?"
"I am no murder, Mr Burke... It was an accident." Willy's face was red and from his eyes, multiple tears were coming down, "I just wanted to joke around. I was tricked..."
"I know you are not, son." Mr Burke said softly, "Take these ten galleons, sign this parchment and I will take care of everything for you. The aurors will never link you to the case... Allow me to help you, Willy."
Between sobs and some tears, Willy finally stopped arguing and started to listen to Mr Burke. While Willy was too occupied crying to notice anything, Mr Burke and Ren seemed to be having an entire discussion with hand gestures. However, what they were saying to each other was beyond Hardin's understanding, although he could see Ren wasn't pleased with whatever they were talking.
Within minutes, Willy signed a parchment, took the ten galleons and left the shop, saying, "Thank you, Mr Burke."
Mr Burke turned to where Ren and Hardin were standing and said, "Reynard, unless you desire to have a very painful death, do never touch the necklace, do you understand? The same goes to you, kid."
He and Ren said in unison, "Yes, sir."
"Now, Reynard, go and write a letter to Malfoy, Carrow, Yaxley and Nott, regarding our new acquisition. It's called the Opal Necklace. They will know what it means." Mr Burke said as he carefully guarded the necklace inside a glass box. "Follow that pattern I showed you yesterday, and don't you dare write it sloppily again."
"I won't," Ren murmured back.
As soon as Ren left the area, he went back to the first floor. On the wall behind the balcony, there were three photographs: one of a young-looking Mr Burke and a man he assumed to be Mr Borgin, another of a big family smiling and, lastly, one containing two boys, arm to arm - all of them had the shop as it's background. In particular, the picture of the two boys had caught his attention. One of the boys was obviously Ren - no one else could possess this same tricky expression - but the other boy was a mystery. He looked a bit like Ren, but his face was softer, seemed more composed and his eyes weren't grey, but green. Could he be, perhaps, Ren's brother? If so, why hadn't Ren ever mentioned him?
Another thing that had gotten his attention was the Deathly Hallows symbol carved in the wood of that same wall. Mrs Bagshot wasn't lying that the Grindelwald's symbol was still used with frequency in the Knockturn Alley. He had read her notes regarding the reasons behind this symbolism and Hardin could never have guessed that a simple children's tale could have so much meaning. But this was a topic for another time...
Mr Burke got out of the balcony - with the help of a walking stick - aiming for a drawer, where he placed the piece of parchment Willy had just signed.
"Sir?"
"Yes, boy?"
"What is this parchment you made him sign?" He asked, "I thought that for this sort of business, the less documentation, the better."
"This sort of business…" Mr Burke snorted, "Who are you, son? You are Reynard's friend, yes, but which of them? Please tell me he hasn't gone soft and you are a bloody Avery, with this blonde hair of yours."
"Not an Avery, sir." He said, still wondering what their problem was with the Averys. "I'm Hardin Sayre. It's a pleasure to meet you - I've heard people speaking highly of you, sir."
Mr Burke laughed, "You are a funny young man, Sayre. People talk a lot about me, I doubt any of them would ever say anything highly, though." He walked back to the balcony, "But I do admire your attempt to flatter me. I once had an employee who did the same when we first met - he was a brilliant worker."
Hardin simply nodded in return, without having a single idea of what he should do. Mr Burke was quite different from what he had expected and he wasn't sure if it was for the better or worse.
"Regarding your question," Mr Burke said, as he sat back on the chair, "This is why people come to me, instead of selling each other their artefacts. It's a secrecy guarantee for every transaction that is made in this shop."
"For both sides, I suppose."
"Exactly. In this sort of business, as you put, there is nothing better than both sides being protected."
"What happens if you break the deal?"
"Depends." Mr Burke shrugged, "In Willy's case, he would feel a good amount of pain and, if not treated with the correct antidote, he would eventually die."
"So, he willingly agreed to be cursed?"
"Willingly. That is the magical word in this type of deal, Sayre." Mr Burke said, "The person has to have the conscience that she's making a deal for it to work. For instance, if you accidentally wrote your name on that parchment, nothing would happen to you, as we haven't bargained for anything."
"Does she have to know the consequences of what might happen to her if she breaks the deal?"
"Quite a curious boy, aren't you? But no, she doesn't have to know the consequences, just that she has accepted a deal that has consequences if not fulfilled."
"What happens if you don't fulfill your part of it?"
Mr Burke gave him a crooked smile, "I might get a little headache."
With every moment that passed, Hardin was getting more and more fond of the deals. He had a few ideas of what he could do with this sort of thing, "Are there other sorts of deals?"
"Multiples, each for a different purpose." Mr Burke said, writing something in a book. "Now, it is my turn to question. What do your parents work with, Sayre? I cannot recall hearing your last name before."
Well, Hardin would rather not answer this question, but fortunately, he had formulated this answer a few days ago, which was why he said, "My father has a business in the Muggle World, sir."
"Muggle World?"
"Yes. My father is a muggle, but my mother was a witch."
"You are a half-blood, then."
"Is it a problem, sir?"
Mr Burke chuckled, "Boy, I live in the Knockturn Alley. One of my best friends, Antigone, is a vampire and most of my custumers are either creatures or beings. For me, as long as you have magical blood in your veins, I couldn't care less about what you are."
That was a relief, but Hardin was quite expecting it. He knew that Ren wasn't a pureblood supremacist, though he had a clear dislike for muggles. Thus, he concluded that Ren's family would think, more or less, the same as him. And, now, seeing the Deathly Hallows symbol in the walls, he knew what the ideals the Burkes believed in were.
Of course, he could have told him the truth. But what was the truth?
A few months ago, the truth would be that he was an orphan boy named Hardin Sayre, who had grown up in an orphanage. However, now, the truth was that he is Harry Potter, son of Lily and James Potter, who had been abandoned and had to grow up in an orphanage, thinking himself to be Hardin Sayre.
As he hated both stories, he had decided to create a backstory for himself for obvious reasons. He didn't like it either, but it sounded better than his actual life and would help him to solve the complicated position he had placed himself by sending letters pretending to be from his family and coming back home during the holidays.
Therefore, Hardin Sayre was now the son of Mr Wool, who had an affair with a witch outside his marriage. After his mother died, he went to live in his father's orphanage and Mr Wool hated him as he was a constant reminder of his infidelity. However, it was not until he received his Hogwarts letter and learned about magic that Mr Wool told him the truth. While still in Hogwarts, Mr Wool sent him letters, telling him about what he knew of magic, but they had agreed to keep their relationship on the minimal.
Was this story the most believable? No, definitely not. But it would do, as it explained why he didn't believe in magic when Professor McGonagall told him about it, why he thought he was an orphan and why he received letters. And, it was more believable than telling everyone he was Harry Potter, the lost son of Lily and James Potter, that no one had ever heard about.
Of course, if he wanted his lie to work out for life, he would need to learn and master some memory charms to make Mr Wool accept the story. But, he still had plenty of time to refine his lie, as he doubted anyone would come searching for his past. After all, why would anyone pay him any mind? His friends were mainly purebloods who wouldn't want to deal with or know his muggle father, and, in the Wizarding World, he had yet to find a need for a parent - as he could do most things by himself.
"And, considering your situation, what are your thoughts regarding the Muggle World?"
"If I can avoid it, I've got no intentions ever to go back to live with the muggles, sir."
Mr Burke smirked, looking pleased with the answer, "That's a smart decision, boy. Shall you ever need something, know that the Knockturn Alley is always open for the people who share our views."
Before he could say anything else, Ren stormed back in the room, with a bunch of parchments in one hand and a wax seal stamp in the other. He handed them to his great-grandfather and patiently waited as Mr Burke analysed each of them carefully.
At last, Mr Burke said, "It's good enough. Next time, however, do not refer to Malfoy as mister - use lord instead."
"I thought this wasn't used anymore."
It wasn't. Hardin remembered reading about it in one of the books that talked about Wizengamot after he learned Edwin's mother worked there. According to the book, many wizards were part of the nobility a long time ago and, therefore, used the same titles as muggles used, such as Lord, Duke or Earl. However, as the fights between muggles and wizards increased and pureblood supremacy gained strength, wizards slowly stopped using their titles since using them was a proof of their muggle ancestry. When Wizengamot was created, they considered bringing back the titles, but during one of their first official votings, they decided against it, as they didn't see a reason for its usage. After all, there would never be a king of Magic, so why have nobility?
"It is not." Mr Burke said as he signed each letter, "But what have I told you about Malfoy?"
"That he is a boastful, pompous git?"
Hardin snorted, wondering who this Malfoy person was. The name did seem a bit familiar - perhaps he had seen it in one of Mrs Bagshot journals.
Mr Burke seemed pleased with the reply, "Correct. And what have I told you we do with pompous people?"
"We pamper them."
"Yes," Mr Burke said, "Therefore, if Malfoy enjoys being called a lord, we will call him a bloody lord. It does not bring us any harm and makes him think he is important. A happy, pampered idiot with a lot of gold is an easy idiot to take gold from. Never forget that."
Amused, Hardin thought, 'Now, these are some wise words.'
"I'll keep it in mind, grandpa."
Mr Burke sealed almost all the letters and then yelled, "Borgin!"
In a matter of moments, another old-looking man appeared in the room. However, he lacked the clever and mischievous aura that Mr Burke and Ren possessed. Honestly, if Hardin had to guess, he would say that Borgin was a rather dense person.
"Yes?" The greasy-haired man said.
"I'll be out with the boys. I need you to take care of the shop meanwhile - you know the rules." Mr Burke said, getting out of his seat, "I also need you to sign this letter for Malfoy and then send them all."
"Yes, Caractacus."
"And get that bloody elf to clean this place. It is a complete mess."
Within minutes, they were out of the store, back into the Knockturn Alley streets.
"Where are we going, grandpa?"
"Section 83A."
"I thought you had told me never to go there."
"And, without me, you should never."
"What are we going to do?"
"Business." Mr Burke replied, in a lower tone, "The Ministry has been a quite constant pain in the arse during this entire year. It is time for us to make a point."
"Will uncle Antigone be there as well?"
"Not this time," Mr Burke replied, "Antigone is busy doing something for me in the West Country."
"What?"
"You'll see in the Daily Prophets in a couple of weeks."
While Mr Burke and Ren talked about things Hardin had no idea about, he observed the structure of the Knockturn Alley. Unlike the Diagon Alley, the Knockturn Alley felt like a giant maze, with multiple side paths and hidden passages that made it impossible for Hardin to memorize where he had passed by. It was enviable, however, how Ren and Mr Burke walked around so effortlessly.
Another thing that he had noticed was the environmental change as Mr Burke arrived in the area. If Hardin thought people had a bit of respect for Ren, he didn't know how to describe how amazing it was to walk by Mr Burke's side. Everyone in the Alley greeted him and freed the way for him to pass. A few, more bold ones, attempted to talk with him - ask for favors, more commonly - but were soon removed from his presence by the others.
What impressed him the most was that Mr Burke didn't possess a single physical characteristic that helped to earn people's obedience - for the lack of a better word. For instance, he was an old man, who needed a walking stick to move around, and, yet, Hardin could bet that some people feared him.
There was only one word to describe it: power.
The trio stopped once they reached an odd-looking pub named The Coffin House. The name, the blood on the door's handle, and the strange smell made him shiver. Hardin had his hypothesis, and he had never hoped so much for being wrong in his entire life.
Before they stepped inside, Mr Burke told them, "Do not speak with anyone or touch anything unless I tell you otherwise."
The pub's interior was really dark, as the only source of light was a few candles randomly placed in the room. Unlike the Leaky Cauldron, which was rather crowded today, this place only contained a handful of people who were looking at them as if they were a delicious dish. The pale skin, the gaunt physical and fangs said it all: these were vampires.
Giving a glance at Mr Burke, he saw that the man had a bored expression on, while Ren seemed fascinated by the place. He quickly concluded that he was the only one feeling scared. Now, why they weren't scared of being in a place filled with vampires was beyond him.
"Gentleman," Mr Burke said, with a bright smile, "I thought vampires had better manners. Won't we be invited for a drink?"
'He's a mad man,' Hardin thought, regretting the moment he had decided to follow the two Burke. Professor Cadmos, from Defence Against the Dark Arts, could claim as much as he wanted that vampires and wizards were in a good relationship, that Hardin wasn't about to risk his neck - literally - for it.
From the back of the pub, a deep voice was heard, "You've got a lot of nerve to come here again, Burke. Or perhaps it's only foolishness."
"Ah, Haemon," Mr Burke's smile never left his face as he talked with the man, "It is a pleasure to see you once more."
"I wish I could say the same, but it isn't," Haemon said harshly. "I see time hasn't been kind with you. It must have damaged your head greatly for you to have the audacity of coming to my area, with only two boys to back you up."
Mr Burke didn't look offended, "I merely wish to talk, Haemon. The boys, as you've mentioned them, are here simply to prove my intention of peace. If I wanted trouble, I'd have gotten the hit-wizards here to see the dead body you hid in your basement yesterday."
"I see that Antigone is still a traitor to his race."
"Can you blame him for choosing those who can protect him?" Mr Burke poked one of the chairs with his walking stick, fell into the floor, causing a loud noise that echoed in the room. "No customers, no vampires, no hags. Your business hasn't been very lucrative lately, am I correct? The way I see it, you won't last another year."
"Have you come only to insult me, Burke?"
"Hardly," Mr Burke said in a kinder tone, "I've come to help you."
Haemon gave them a cold laugh, "You? The greedy Caractacus Burke, came to offer help for his enemy? Now, that's what I call a good joke."
"Times have changed and I'm a new man."
"I'm two hundred years old, Burke. I know your kind and I know you." Haemon said as he approached the table where Mr Burke was now sitting. "Therefore, you don't need this empty talk of yours. Why don't we go straight to the point? What do you want, Burke?"
"For exactly forty-five years, we've been in this unproductive relationship with each other. You try to sabotage my business, and I attempt to sabotage yours. There has never been a winner, only two losers." Mr Burke said, "Fortunately, despite our animosity, we have managed to be successful in our areas. However, times have changed, and, as you have said, it hasn't been kind."
Haemon raised an eyebrow, "What has changed?"
"You know as well as I do that everything has changed. The Ministry is not the same any longer. Every day the movement against the Knockturn Alley gets stronger and Ministry Bagnold allows even more weekly raids." Mr Burke continued, "Although the Knockturn Alley is a place for shady deals, illegal merchandise and everything that the Ministry wants to keep hidden for the society, it is also our home. It's a place for all beings, where no one is judged. We accept everything: wizards, vampires, hags, goblins, banshees, werewolves... We have more inclusion than anywhere else in Britain and you are a living proof of it. Where else can a vampire hold so much power? I've-"
"You can stop your speech, Burke. I already know this. What I fail to see, however, is why are you still fighting for the Knockturn Alley." Haemon said, "Your time is approaching, Burke. It's noticeable. I've seen you already lost your leg. How long do you have left until the curse gets the best of you? Two years? Maybe three?"
Glancing over Ren, Hardin noticed that the boy seemed shaken about something for the first time. He even dared to say that Ren's eyes were getting watery with the mention of Mr Burke's health. Only a blind wouldn't see that Ren cared deeply about Mr Burke.
"As far as I'm concerned, your son is dead and your grandson went insane. And this," Haemon pointed to Ren, "This is a child, who by no means is ready to take over your business. Then, why don't you use the thousands of galleons you have and go enjoy your last years of life? Your time is up. You should leave the Knockturn Alley with the ones who will still be here to see the future."
'Your grandson went insane,' Hardin thought, 'His grandson would be Ren's father, and Ren said his father was unable. Was this what he meant? How did this happen?'
Both Mr Burke and Ren had an immediate switch of humour as Haemon started to mention their family. Ren, specifically, looked as if he was about to punch Haemon, while Mr Burke had a rather guilty look on his face.
"As I've said, the Knockturn Alley has never turned its back for anyone who needed it and I'm no different. A young boy whose mother was sent to Azkaban for poisoning her husband. I had nothing, but this place gave me everything I could ever ask for. And this is why I fight for it." Mr Burke made a pause "This is my legacy, and I won't let that Potter bastard or Dumbledore turn it into ashes."
Honestly, Hardin didn't know what caught his attention more in this conversation. The misfortune of the Burkes, Mr Burke's history, the thousands of galleons Haemon claimed that Mr Burke owned, or the fact that the Potters weren't a problem only in his life.
"Fair enough," Haemon said after an entire minute of silence. "What's your proposition, Burke? Because I'm done losing my people for these damned raids - they took me three in yesterday's raids. And for what? Because they drink the blood of a person? We are vampires! What do people expect us to do? Start to drink pumpkin juice?"
"Meanwhile, the werewolves' cause has been receiving special help from the Potters." Mr Burke said. It was impossible not to notice Haemon's disgust when Mr Burke mentioned the werewolves. "Have you read about it?"
"How could I not? Nine out of ten letters I receive are talking about it."
"Do you agree with me, then? We should join forces."
"I cannot agree if I don't know what I'm agreeing with, Burke. I know all about your empty word deals, and I'm not this easily tricked as the wizards that frequent your shop," Haemon replied. "Therefore, what is your suggestion?"
Hardin didn't fail to notice the gleam of happiness in Mr Burke's eyes.
"Firstly, you will call off the vampire attacks in the Knockturn Alley, so-"
Haemon snorted, though Hardin thought he looked kind of hurt as if he had just been betrayed. "I should have known! You haven't changed a bit-"
"Allow me to finish, Haemon. Then you can give me your thoughts." Mr Burke interrupted him, using a deeper, rather threatening, tone of voice, "Instead of the Knockturn, you'll center your attacks in the Horizont Alley. The Knockturn Alley has been receiving these raids because there's no danger in other areas. We are the only significant trouble in Britain right now. Thus, it's obvious the aurors will keep their focus on us. However, if we dissipate the attention, it might buy us a few more days."
"Why the Horizont Alley?" Haemon asked as he drank the reddish liquid his employee had just given him.
'Disgusting,' Hardin thought, seeing that amount of blood being drunk so casually. Vampires were strange.
"Firstly, because I already have a shop there and I am willing to give it to you, so you can expand the Coffin House. Secondly, because it's the closest shopping area to the Potter's house. It seems that despite his losses, Mr Potter has forgotten that in a war, both sides get hit."
With that sentence, Hardin was almost volunteering himself to help. He would make the Potters pay for what they had done to him.
"How do you know their house location? I've been trying to find it for years."
"Rubeus Hagrid talks a lot if he is given the correct drinks."
"How haven't I thought about the half-giant?" Haemon murmured, then added, "What will you do, Burke? The way I see it, it seems you are giving me your dirty work to do."
"I'll be acting in many areas." Mr Burke said, maybe sounding a bit tired, "Some of my clients have agreed to put a bit more pressure on their friends inside the Wizengamot. In the next election, we will have a suitable candidate to help our interests - I will personally finance him." He made a pause, "I have reunited a few riff-raffs who owe me some money and, in exchange for the annulment of their debts, they have agreed to make some mess around the Tote Alley, as well."
'Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, Horizont Alley, Tote Alley…' Hardin thought, 'Wizards certainly enjoy puns.'
"Have you talked to the others?"
"A few," Mr Burke said, "The hags have agreed to help as long as you offer them a place to stay in the new Coffin House."
"It can be managed."
"I've also talked with a few radical werewolves, such as Greyback, to make some public appearances and remember the population isn't lost puppies who need shelter as the Potters make it seem." Mr Burke quickly added, "You should not worry, though. Greyback will make appearances on the other side of the country. As I have said, we need to expand the trouble so that the aurors can leave our Knockturn Alley in peace."
For a minute, both men stayed in silence, which made the boys exchange confused looks. It seemed as if they were making an entire debate between their cold stares at each other.
"You've said these could buy us a few more days. How many days do you need?"
"We have to hold things together until the election next year. Hopefully, my candidate will win, and we'll get ourselves some peace."
"I've heard Dumbledore will be a candidate. I find it hard for you to have someone as politically stronger as he is. The entire Wizarding World loves him."
"Dumbledore is not a problem." Mr Burke said simply, "He would never be a candidate. You don't have to be a genius to see that he has no wish in becoming a Minister."
"What about Crouch? He's admired, and I've-"
"I've said I'll take care of it, Haemon." Mr Burke said simply, "Worry not, my candidate will be suitable, and people will vote for him."
"You do remember that we, beings, do not have the right to vote, don't you? We can't help you with this."
Mr Burke nodded slowly, "I am aware of that."
"Quite hopeful, aren't you, Burke?"
"The future belongs to those who believe and search for their dreams. And I've always been a big dreamer, Haemon." Mr Burke smiled, "I suppose I won't receive your final decision now, will I?"
"I'll notify you before the beginning of the new year."
"I know you will make the right decision, Haemon."
Mr Burke got out of his seat and walked where he and Ren were waiting, and, together, they left the Coffin House.
"Reynard, fix your posture. You are looking like a riff-raff." Mr Burke said, poking Ren's back with the walking stick. "And take this sorrow and miserable look off of your face. You should pay no mind to what Haemon says about us."
"He's not wrong, is he?" Ren murmured back. Although his face stayed the same, he corrected his posture. "I can't take over the shop when you're gone. I-I know nothing yet."
"Which is why you are learning."
Ren sighed, "I don't even get why sending the people in the alley away would help us at all."
Mr Burke made a flick with his walking stick, probably casting some spell, then said, "Because we have to show that without the Knockturn Alley the problems will keep happening. But, instead of being focused in a single place, they will start to happen all over Britain. What I'm trying to show them is that it's better to have a single dangerous area than seven of them."
Until they reached the White Wyvern, their walking was silent.
The White Wyvern was the biggest building of the entire shopping district. Externally, it reminded Hardin of a bigger version of the Jewel Tower, though a bit darker. It certainly wasn't a family-friendly environment, considering the few women leaned over the pub's stone walls and the pissed men fighting with each other. And this, for not to mention the odd-looking appearance of everyone around.
He followed Mr Burke and Ren inside the shop and this place was very different from the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was filled with the most diverse beings. Some were drinking and laughing loudly, while others talked barely in whispers with each other - Hardin could swear he saw a few of them exchanging weird looking packages. One person, in particular, had caught his attention…
"That's truly Hagrid if you are wondering about," Ren said while his great-grandfather talked with the man on the balcony. "He comes here a few times a year to try his luck on the Creatures Roulette."
"Creatures Roulette?" Hardin asked, almost in a yell tone, due to the loud noise of the pub.
"Yeah, you pay three galleons and you try your luck in the roulette. If you manage to get the same creature three times in a roll, you win it." Ren explained, "Hagrid has been trying to get a dragon egg for years, according to my grandpa. But he'll likely never get it. The game is manipulated, you know."
Eventually, Mr Burke came back and took them to a table whose former customers had been kicked out by one of the pub's employees. Thankfully, Mr Burke cast some spell with his walking stick that helped to decrease the room's noise and, after a few minutes, the employee came back bringing their food.
"What do you think of the White Wyvern, Sayre?"
"It's quite different from the Leaky Cauldron, sir."
"Most certainly," Mr Burke said, "But I do think it has its own charm."
"That other one in Cashew Alley is still the best one," Ren said.
"And ridiculously expensive." Mr Burke said, "I prefer here. It's a much more interesting place to be if you know what to look for. Don't you agree, Sayre?"
"It's certainly interesting, sir."
"You see, Reynard, your friend has a good taste," Mr Burke made a pause, "Now, what I want to know, before allowing you two to fool around, is: what have you learned today? Reynard?"
"That none relationship stays the same forever?"
"Elaborate."
Ren scratched the back of his head, "Huh, well, you and Haemon have been fighting for decades, but now you are trying to make him your ally. Therefore times change, relationships change?"
Mr Burke took a sip on his drink, "Sayre, would you like to add something?"
"You cannot fight two wars at once?"
"Your answer is not wrong, Reynard, but Sayre's one is more suitable." Mr Burke said. "Let an old man, of almost a century and a half of age, enlighten you with some wisdom. Never, I repeat, never, make yourself an enemy if you do not have to. For instance, do not buy your friends animosity with someone. Live your own life, make your own decisions. Do never be influenceable."
He proceeded, "And if you find yourself with two problems at once, do not be stupid to try to fight them both. Give a step behind to take two forward."
"How should I get rid of one of the problems, then?" Ren asked.
"Leave your arrogance behind and try to make a conciliation. Never too proud of yourself to the point that you do not know when to stop." Mr Burke replied, "Have I ever told you about the father of that friend of yours, Reynard? That Rosier girl?"
"You've said he died in the war."
'Killed by Alastor Moody,' Hardin added mentally. He had read about Alyssa's father in that journal that Mrs Bagshot had given him. It had been quite odd to realise he knew so little about his year mates' lives. For instance, Bedivere's parents were both Death Eaters who claimed to be under the effect of the Imperius Curse during their trials and sold off many other Voldemorts followers. Now Hardin understood while Ren had called Bedivere's father a snitch moments before their sorting.
"Evan Rosier was a regular wizard in terms of skill, quite knowledgeable, but with an ego that you could imagine that he was Merlin reincarnated." Mr Burke told them. "As many have done, he eagerly joined You-Know-Who's cause. One day, during one of the Death Eaters raids, his group was cornered by Alastor Moody, his aurors and hit-wizards. I do not know what exactly happened, but I do know that there was an explosion, which slowed down Alastor's men, allowing time for the Death Eaters to escape."
"But Rosier didn't," Hardin concluded.
"Correct," Mr Burke said, "Instead, he thought himself strong enough to fight them all and live to tell the story. Alastor Moody killed him within minutes. The boy never stood a chance, but he was too proud to leave the scene and save his arse." Mr Burke shook his head, "For someone who claimed to be the perfect exemplar of a Slytherin, he acted as the ultimate Gryffindor if you ask me. No sense of self-preservation."
"And, your father, Reynard, was the same. Too foolish." Mr Burke said, "If you want to take over the shop, once I'm gone, you better learn closely with his mistakes. He was too soft for this business."
Ren looked partially offended but said nothing about it. Instead, he asked, "Who are you going to support in the elections in the next elections?"
"His name is Cornelius Fudge. Not the best option, but he has agreed to turn a blind eye regarding the Knockturn Alley, if he gets elected."
"Do you think he will be elected, sir?" Hardin questioned. For whatever reason, now, the well-being of the Knockturn Alley seemed very important for him.
"As long as Dumbledore does not become a candidate, it is a very likely possibility." Mr Burke replied, "We can finance a good campaign for him, which is already more than most candidates have."
"Sir?"
Mr Burke turned towards Ren, "He's quite talkative, isn't he?"
"You should see him in Charms, grandpa. He barely allows Flitwick to speak."
Hardin blushed a bit, "It's not that bad."
"It doesn't matter, boy. You shouldn't feel embarrassed for being eager to learn. God knows we, Burkes, should be a little more academically inclined," Mr Burke said, "Make your question, Sayre."
"Why would Greyback agree to work for you if life for werewolves is getting better now?"
"Honestly, this is a question that not even I have the answer to." Mr Burke chuckled, "My understanding is that, unlike the majority of werewolves, he does enjoy his transformations. You could say that he has embraced his wolf side. And, he's also very fond of freedom." Mr Burke said, "Which is why, for him, being obligated to take the Wolfsbane Potion as the law project in Wizengamot proposes it's an offense. Therefore, he's very inclined to help whoever has a plan to bring down this project."
"But can you force someone to take a potion if the person doesn't want to?" Ren asked.
"Don't they force you, kids, to not perform magic outside the school until you are seventeen? Don't they prohibit us from using magic in front of muggles? It's the same principle."
"But why don't you want the werewolves to get the Wolfsbane Potion? It's better for everybody, isn't it?"
"Two reasons," Mr Burke said, "First, this movement was created by Potter. Considering the amount of headache this bastard has given me, I'm taking every chance I have to make him fail at something. Secondly, taxes will increase too much for shop owners in the Knockturn Alley if this gets approved and, as a businessman, I don't like taxes, Sayre."
"Why?"
"I know this answer," Ren said proudly, "The price to produce the Wolfsbane Potion is very high, so the Ministry has to increase the charges to be able to distribute it. The areas with a bigger concentration of werewolves will be charged more than the others because…" Ren frowned, "I don't really remember the because of it, grandpa."
"Because they claim these regions will be the ones to be more benefited by it, so they should contribute more." Mr Burke continued, "In reality, Potter just wants to find another way to mess with the lives of the people of the alley. The werewolves aren't a problem for us. As I've said earlier, we are the most accepting region of the entire Wizarding Britain."
Hardin nodded, but he wasn't very convinced by this story. Although it hurt him to admit it, he thought the Potters were doing a very nice action for the werewolves, considering he imagined a werewolf transformation wasn't something pleasant to experience. Besides, Mr Burke's reasons for disliking it were very selfish and personal.
He guessed Mrs Bagshot was, once more, right. He had to learn that even bad people, like the Potters, could do good things. Life isn't a dichotomy.
For about an hour, Mr Burke stayed with them, telling him and Ren a bit more of his life and adventures during his youth - Mr Burke was quite an interesting person. Later the man escorted them back to Diagon Alley.
Moments before saying goodbye, Mr Burke took a few galleons out and threw them in Hardin's direction, "Buy a decent hair dye, son. Do never underestimate the importance of looks."
He was about to say that it wasn't necessary, but Ren bumped into his shoulder, preventing him from saying anything. In a matter of seconds, Mr Burke disappeared in the crowds.
"Honestly, Hardin, my grandpa is giving you money and you are going to complain? He doesn't even give me, his great-grandson, money."
Hardin shrugged. Considering how short on money he was, he guessed gaining a few more galleons wouldn't cause him any harm.
"So, where do you want to go first?"
"Gambol & Japes?"
Ren sighed with relief, "For a moment, I thought you'd drag me to a bookshop."
"Well, if you insist, Ren, we can-"
"Hell no," Ren said immediately, pushing him towards Gambol & Japes, "You've said Gambol & Japes, so Gambol & Japes it is. No change of plans."
Hardin simply laughed as they walked and Ren claimed that, one day, he would take the swot spirit out of Hardin and make him a normal boy.
Until nighttime, the duo spent their hours randomly walking around the Diagon Alley, making fun of each other and discussing their ideas for when they were back in Hogwarts. In his opinion, the best part of the day was when they stopped by at Sugarplum's Sweets Shop, where Ren spent a handful of galleons on sweets and was kind enough to share.
Hours later, when he called the Knight bus, it was the first night that the Potters didn't invade his thoughts. Although this hadn't been the day he had pictured, it had been so interesting, and he had gathered so many ideas that the Potters seemed insignificant. It was the first time, in four days, that he had a good night of sleep.