ii – Now You See Me.
August 23rd1994.
A Tuesday. Aoife hated Tuesdays. They were kinda just there in the week. Not the beginning, not the middle and certainly not the end. Nothing exciting, really and typically, ordinary.
Not today though. If you had told Aoife last week, she would be infiltrating Diagon and Knockturn Alleys to retrieve a very important magical artifact, she would have spat her tea out at you. Yet here she was, sweating under a hooded robe outside of Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor waiting for her… associate… to leave Gringott's and meet her on Knockturn. He had left her with enough time for a single scoop cone of chocolate chili ice cream. It was too spicy to eat in the August heat.
It was so hot and humid, in fact, she couldn't even bask in the sights of a world she could only dream of ever belonging. The closest she had come had been the one summer in Philadelphia when she went with her brother for school supplies. Passing under the large brass eagle in the middle of the seemingly ordinary center city department store and emerging into a bright, cheerful glass arcade showcasing every charm and trick the magic world had to offer was more then enough to make her jealousy reappear. Her older brother, Brodrick, would be attending Ilvermorny that September. Aoife would not be invited to attend when she reached 11 years old.
It wasn't fair. Brodrick was never interested in Pop-pop's 'hocus pocus' or fairytales. Aoife was the one who had gone on all of Pop's quests with him when Rick never wanted to go! And when mom and dad finally had to admit that magic was real after rebuffing Pop for so long, it was Aoife they had asked questions. Because maybe Pop-pop wasn't a stark raving lunatic going on about wizards and magic, and because she absorbed every single detail, and because she still craved to be a part of it with every bit of her being.
She couldn't though. She was a no-maj, a normal, a muggle.
And Brodrick, that moron, wasted his gifts on becoming a public servant. He was just promoted to a supervisor in the Magical Cleaning Department for the MACUSA. Mom and dad were elated, of course!
He'd have a fit if he knew what she was doing right now.
The tower clock at Gringott's chimed for 1pm. Time to move.
Aoife dumped the rest of her ice cream in a near by rubbish bin and deftly walked to the crossroad of Diagon and Knockturn. She was mindful of not being seen or looking suspicious by any passerby. The Ministry of Magic had Aurors patrolling en force due to what she would have called a terrorist attack at the Quidditch World Cup last week. The very mention of 'Death Eaters suspected' made Aoife's skin crawl.
The air in the shadowy alley was abnormally cool. Like someone had turned on a giant outdoor air con and she felt instant relief under her robe. The block was nearly deserted so she took her time carefully studying the various shingles hanging in front of gloomy store fronts.
Borgin and Burke's. Borgin and Burkes'. Ah ha!
The taxidermized California Condor spread wide in the front window took her by surprise. Charming establishment. She startled again when a talon like grip on her arm forced her near to the ground.
"Girl, do you ever pay attention to your surroundings?! I can not understand how you have survived to adulthood. I could have been a snatcher. Or worse, an auror."
"Enough, Nox. I'll be more careful." She shook off the warty hand.
"You'll be dead! Don't forget your place, no-maj."
Aoife frowned deeply at the goblin next to her. Knoxwud had been her one and only ally through out her adventures in Wizardom. That didn't mean he was a de facto pain in the arse. "Did you exchange the money for the Galleons?"
"No! I traded it for magic beans. Maybe I'll grow taller." He grumbled and handed her a velvet pouch that now contained all her savings, which at 27 wasn't much, but she couldn't let this get away. Maybe Maurice would give her an advance on her wages this week or allow her some extra hours. Her rent money was in this little pouch too. "It's bad enough I'm giving up my afternoon break for this little excursion."
"You love it, and you know it."
"HIGHLY debatable." The goblin gnashed out. "Let's get this over with. Let me do the talking, this time. I don't want another Quincy Market debacle." He groused, moving past Aoife to hold open the door. He began to settle into a façade of servitude; A grinchy, warty goblin and his young demure lady mistress. It was a farce they'd played before.
The bell on the door jingled as Aoife entered, Knoxwud behind her. The room was ill lit and smelled of stale pipe tobacco smoke and dust. A gaunt man with stooping posture stood behind the merchant's desk. He seemed to be examining a small artifact in his spindly fingers.
"EH-HEM" The Nox cleared his throat and deeply bowed. "May I present the Lady Smith." Aoife Inclined her head when Borgin looked up from his desk.
"Hnmm? Oh! Yes, the young mistress. Interested in the cloak." He shuffled towards the back office reemerging with a bundle of blue and silver. "Have a look. I re-thatched it myself with Demiguise hair, so the price is adjusted for the repair work. I trust you will still find the cost more than fair. It is a beautiful specimen." Mr. Borgin sniggered to himself, handing the cloak to Aoife for inspection.
"Is it all Demiguise or is it a blend?" Knox asked, moving the silky material through his fingers. Aoife threw it over her shoulders and watched in awe as her arms and torso melted away from sight. Only a slight shimmering remained, as if the air was water.
"My God, it works." She whispered as she twirled in place. When the material lifted in movement, little glimpses of her shoes shown.
"Full fur, of course. The effects leave after a few decades or if it is well worn. 530, is the price. I must tell you it is firm as I have several others already interested in it." Borgin rubbed his hands greedily.
"I'll take it!" Aofie said as she doffed the cloak and began to fold it. Knox sputtered beside her. The little goblin always willing to haggle on the account of gold.
"Did I say 530? I meant 630."
"No. You said 5." The goblin peered up over the sales desk.
"I will pay the 530, because that is what was discussed in our correspondence. You should not have offered it to others after making the deal. I have 530 galleons in my purse now. I offer you cash in hand and not a knut more." She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her nose in the air, attempting to appear haughty.
"530 and perhaps… a trade?" Borgin ambled towards Aoife with a wanting leer. His eyes on her gold medallion necklace. "Your pendant, Goblin cast, yes? Worth much more than its weight in gold. It would trade nicely I believe." He murmured, pulling out a jeweler's loupe. Aoife could feel his quickening breath on the skin of her throat as he pulled close to examine the piece. No doubt also sneaking a peek down the v-neck of her robe.
"I don't think so, Mr. Borgin." She stepped out of his greasy grasp and clutched her medallion. "It's a bit of junk picked up by my grandfather when I was small. It has no value but of the sentimental sort. 530 galleons, as we'd discussed." She pulled out the small velvet pouch and it jingled as she threw it on the counter. Anything to get Borgin away from her.
"That necklace though, I want it. Forget the money. The cloak for the medallion?" He yanked her close again, nearly salivating.
"She said it was junk! Leave her be!" Knoxwud shoved the greasy man aside, who then went to pull his wand.
"Filthy creature, dare assault me?!"
A loud screeching flooded the room then and flashing lights in the upper corners of the dingy store started. Knox had seen this before. Sneakoscopes, placed as alarms for the ministry in known dens of skullduggery. He grabbed Aoife close and whispered urgently "We need to leave. Now!" and pulled her towards the door.
She left the pouch of gold on the desk and ran with the cloak still in hand leaving Mr. Borgin raving behind them. Making out of the shop, they turned left only to see a small troop of men in auror uniforms hurrying down from the intersection of Horizont Alley. The pair made a quiet U turn and began heading back past the shop, still glowing and yowling, back towards Diagon. They had almost made it back into day light.
"That's them! Stop them! Thieves!" Mr. Borgin was outside of his shop, pointing madly. 3 of the aurors broke off into a sprint, wands at the ready.
The 1:30pm toll chimed from the Gringott's clock and the entire alley broke out in droves of merchants and clerks hurrying back from their midday breaks.
"When's the portkey activate?"
"10 minutes."
"We don't have 10 minutes. Nox, you are going to have to forgive me later."
"For what?"
"For this." She grabbed up the goblin, settled him on her hip like a child and dashed into the crowd. She weaved and bobbed her way through, glancing back over her should every now and then to see where their pursuers were. Certainly not as far away as she'd like. Seeing an opportunity to enter a second hand bookstore on the south side of he market, Aoife began to formulate a new plan.
Hide in plain sight.
Ducking behind large stacks of old tomes that appeared to be on the subject of… ancient Greek shapeshifters… she dropped Nox gently on the ground, wrapped the invisibility cloak around him, told him to be quiet and follow her. The cloak was too small for both to be rendered unnoticeable successfully, and it is harder to hide a goblin, even on Diagon alley. Aoife pulled off her outer robe, turned it inside out and put it back on. One side, the side she had been wearing, was a deep jewel green with silver decorations; Clothing of the well to do. The other side, the inside now out, was a drab, unremarkable earthen color and completely transformed. A quick slight of hand. She pulled her hair out of the pony tail it had been in and let it fall on to her shoulder and eyes, obscuring her face.
Muggle magic.
Aoife moved towards another stack of books further into the store as the door chimed. She could see the set of young aurors enter. She stopped short, seeing the back of a tall man cloaked all in black. He was alone and scouring the shelves with rapt attention.
Aoife grabbed his right hand that had been hanging by his side and entwined her fingers with his. "Shhhh. Please, just play along." She whispered.
He didn't say a word, he didn't turn towards her to stare in schock and, most importantly, he didn't let go of her hand. He just kept glancing at the book spines.
"Sorry to disturb you, Professor Snape, ahem" one of the chasing aurors appeared. "'Ave you seen a girl in green running by with some sort 'ov creature on 'er hip?" He mumbled, his hand behind his neck rubbing. Was he…embarrassed?
The tall man gently let go of her hand and turned to look at the auror. "Mr. Leahy." He breathed. "I unfortunately hadn't notice anyone. My attentions were elsewhere, as you can see. I thought maybe someone had come through here. They may have run through the back door. It'd be a shame to let them… slip away." He hadn't missed a beat.
The man's voice was almost sinister, and it raised all the hairs on Aoife's arms. She kept her eyes down, focusing in mocked attention on a book she'd plucked from the stack.
"S-s-sorry to disturb you, Professor. Thank you. Sir!" The young man took off towards the back room.
Who was this guy?
"Thank you for not giving me up." She placed the book back where she'd found it. "I'll be on my way and give you no more trouble." She said, turning to leave. Until his tall figure stood in her way.
"Not so fast, girl. I know the ministry is very up in arms so to speak, but they don't normally chase through the streets unless something very underhanded is occurring. Why where they after you?"
"I don't know."
"That's a lie. Who are you? I don't recognize you."
"What, do you know everyone on the alley? Ever hear of a tourist?"
"Contrary to popular belief, we do not get a lot of tourists through here." He crossed his arms over his chest, looking like a one man wall in front of her escape. "You have a subtle, but definite London accent. You haven't traveled far. Try again."
"I don't have to tell you anything. Goodbye." He didn't look like the type to pull a wand on her, but she wasn't taking a chance. She had about 6 minutes until their portkey activated and she needed to get Nox and herself somewhere quiet. She went to push past him.
"Might your pursuit have something to do with...This?!" As Aoife went by, his long fingers pulled on the magical cloak wrapped around Knoxwud and yanked, reveling the stupefied goblin and returning color to the material.
"HEY, give that back! It's mine!" Aoife grabbed a fist full of cloak to tug it back.
The man just raised an eyebrow. "Purloined?" he purred. "And an accomplice I see. The Goblin Guild will not be pleased with you, I'm sure." He toed the Goblin.
"Who talks like that? It's not stolen. I paid for it! 530 galleons! Now give. It. Back!" she yanked, but his grip didn't budge.
"Severus! When we have finished our meeting with Igor, I think we must stop by Florean's. He has a new flavor called Snozzberry that sounds utterly… de -light-ful?" A cheerful old, bearded man stepped around the bookcase, completely oblivious. Upon seeing the scuffle, he became flabbergasted.
Aoife slackened her grip on the cloak. Her blood drained from her face. "You." She breathed shaking her head. "I can't believe it."
"I beg your pardon, my dear, have we met?" Dumbledore smiled with twinkling blue eyes.
"Oh, we've met! I guess it isn't important for you to remember every scared child you steal memories from." She was vibrating in anger and disbelief.
"Wylde, we have to go!" Nox tugged at the hem of her robe. "This is not the time!"
"Wylde? Did you say Wylde?"
"Albus, what is she talking about?" the tall man had fully relinquished the invisibility cloak from Aoife's grasp, but it had momentarily lost its importance to everyone just then.
Dumbledore stalked closer to the woman. Yes. He recognized those grey-blue eyes. Stormy like her temper right now. And that scowl was unmistakable.
"The Obliviation did not stick, did it?" He smiled, sending Aoife into a rage. "And you are picking up where dear Padraig left off?" He chuckled to himself, then whispered "Only the worthy find the isle." He backed away from her.
"You… deviant, crazy old man! I swear…" Aoife started.
"Wylde! Now!" Nox yelled, grasping an old, chipped teacup in his warty claws. "Songbird" He bellowed, activating the portkey while thrusting the cup into Aoife's hand. They were gone with a flash.
"Albus! Who was that? What was that?" Severus asked incredulously.
"Apparently, a loose end from some unfinished business come back to bite my tail." He went to touch the forgotten cloak in Severus' hand. "Interesting."
Severus was quiet as he watched Albus. The elder man seemed to be in deep, deep thought. Suddenly the twinkle in his eye gleamed. Severus narrowed his eyes.
"Seems like you have yourself a new invisibility cloak, dear boy. Spoils of war." The old man hummed.
"That's all you are going to say? Is she dangerous? Do we have to worry about her too with everything else going on?" the young man urged. "What do you think she was going to do with this?" He held up the slivery blue cloak.
"I have a hunch about the cloak." He stroked at his beard, like he usually did when he was deeply thinking. "I do not believe her to be dangerous, though. Certainly not in league with You-Know-Who."
Severus gave him a dubious look. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because, my dear boy, she is a muggle." His eyes laughed and twinkled spectacularly as Severus only deepened his frown.
The Portkey deposited Aoife and Knoxwud unceremoniously onto the cobblestone ground in an alley off of Goodwin's Court near Convent Gardens. Luckily, they hadn't had to use the key for a longer distance. Transporting Aoife always took quite a bit out of Nox.
"Come on, let's get you in to the pub. Something nice to eat and maybe a bit of a lie down will get your strength back." Aoife said as she was helping the wobbling goblin to his feet.
"Stupid girl! I have to get back! Master Lugfoot will have my ears if I don't finish my day. I'm already late from break as it is! Besides, Maurice doesn't like me loitering around the club" He grumbled, but let Aoife guide him into a back kitchen door. They passed by large stainless steel counters and prep stations. A stand up mixer whirred and a dishwasher chugged away along the walls. Closer to the front, several knives chopped away at vegetables with out anyone's help. A house elf in an old fashioned chef's hat stood on a wooden step stool stirring a stock pot bigger than him. His spoon looking more like a boat paddle.
"Afternoon, Willy."
"hnnnmm, Mistress Wylde is quite early today. The soup isn't ready."
"It's too hot for soup, Willy."
"Never too hot for soup!" He hopped down from the stool. "Master Lacroix isn't here."
"I'm not surprised. The sun is too high for him yet. Could we have a couple corned beef sandwiches, please? Nox had a long afternoon." She gestured to the goblin, still wobbling on his feet a bit. His skin the color of baked clay instead of his normal pinkish, greenish tinge.
Willy studied the both of them skeptically, but after a moment snapped his spindly fingers. "Mistress really should stay out of trouble. She won't always have someone else to clean up her messes." He turned back to climb up the stool again. "Sandwiches and drinks on the bar." Willy dismissed the pair by paddling his soup pot once more.