Chapter One
From her robes, Alexandria Borgin produced a thick wand with a polished and slightly sharpened metal protrusion on the opposite end of the handle. "Lumos," she whispered and a soft light illuminated the store. 'You gotta be kidding,' she thought 'This place should be condemned.' She'd spent time in some of the sleaziest wizarding shops, legal and illegal, back home, but nothing compared to this place. Tentative steps led her around musty, chipped display cases filled with what she was forced to admit was the most interesting assortment of magical items she had ever seen. 'And that's saying something,' she thought. The blackened stone walls were filthy and crumbling in places. Enormous spider webs hung from the ceiling and there was a thick layer of grime and dust covering every surface. It was easy to tell that the only bit of cleaning ever done here was the occasional smudging of a hand across the glass of a display case to better view the items inside.
Fighting the urge to apparate right back to America, she began a cursory inspection of the shop. It wasn't all that large, but it would take a tremendous effort to make the place remotely inviting for her customers. 'First day of my new life and I'm already thinking like a respectable citizen.' She rolled her eyes at the thought. "This is the business that we have chosen," she quipped in her best Mafia kingpin voice. Her sudden outburst of laughter echoed eerily off of the dark stone walls and she was silenced by the shiver that ran down her spine. Clearly, this was a place that didn't like laughter. Well, she'd change that soon enough. Behind the counter, there was a small amount of room for storage and a long filing cabinet in great disrepair. Perched on top of this was a massive tome that had apparently served as an inventory log for time out of mind. A quick peek informed her that her uncle had been in the middle of an inventory count when he was interrupted. Or, maybe that was when he died. She didn't know many of the particulars of her uncle's death, only that he had been in rather poor health and his body was found in his shop without a mark on it, apparently dead from heart failure .
Alexandria gave a small shrug. She found it difficult to grieve for a relative she'd never known. After all, his loss was her gain. But, for the work she was going to have to put into it, she felt that she would more than earn whatever profit came her way…honestly, for a change.
Flipping back through the ledger she saw something that gave her pause, another inventory count just a few weeks ago. "That's funny," she murmured. Judging from the state of the shop, she didn't see how her uncle could have been that meticulous about anything. No one took inventory every month. That was just ridiculous. A few minutes of searching revealed that he had done an inventory once a year every year right before the start of Summer, and that was all. She ran a petite, long-fingered hand through a thick mane of hair and gave a small "hmm." Obviously, he was checking for missing items. She pushed aside the desire to compare the ledger with sales receipts from the past year, a task that would have occupied several hours. There would be plenty of time later should she choose to do so. For now, she was tired and hungry, and she still had a lot of work to do if she wanted to rest comfortably in this place tonight.
Besides, people may have gotten away with it when her uncle was in charge, but no one stole from Alex Borgin.
At the back of the storage area, there was a rickety spiral staircase. Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was made from intricate wrought iron and was probably quite beautiful a long time ago. With careful steps, she ascended into an apartment above. It was a bit small, but there was enough room for one person to live quite comfortably. Just in front of the staircase there was a tiny kitchen which was devoid of a dining table. In fact, the only furniture in the room was an ancient bed with a dark, threadbare blanket, and a worn chair situated in front of an enormous fireplace.
Out of a low side pocket of her brown cargo pants, she drew a handful of miniscule green boxes and placed them on the floor. She had been itching to do this since she purchased this luggage at one of the nicer magical shops just yesterday. After performing a complex engorgement charm the tiny boxes began to grow, imperceptibly at first, then with increasing speed, to their normal size. They were lovely pieces, really. Huge, emerald green trunks with solid silver handles. Alex didn't know if she'd have the heart to shrink them and put them away again. She had used the last of her savings to pay for them and had never owned anything quite so nice. On top of the nearest trunk, she placed a rugged backpack that she had pulled from her shoulders.
There. All finished. Now to unpack.
Unfortunately, the mere thought of it left her exhausted. She needed breakfast and some coffee, and until she procured them, unpacking was simply out of the question.
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"Do you feel that he'll attack the girl?" asked Albus Dumbledore.
From a deep red armchair opposite the Headmaster's desk a deep sigh emerged. "It's Lucius Malfoy, Headmaster." Severus felt that this was a sufficient reminder. Lucius wouldn't give a moment's thought to killing anyone who stood in his way. It was a silly question, really.
Dumbledore's brows furrowed and it brought an uncharacteristic glint to his usually kind eyes. "He must not be permitted to harm that child."
"She's thirty-two."
"Pardon me?"
Severus Snape let out another sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Honestly, Albus seemed to feel that anyone under the age of sixty was an infant. "She's thirty-two years old. She's hardly a child."
"Be that as it may, Severus, she's a newcomer to our country and completely unaware of any danger to her. As we are aware of the situation, it is our obligation to see it to it that the young woman comes to no harm."
"Well then," Severus abruptly got up from his seat. "I'm sure she'll enjoy your visit."
"Sit down, Severus."
Caught off guard by the order, and already on his way out, the potions master froze in mid-stride for only a moment , then brought his foot down softly and pivoted to face the Headmaster. Anyone else would have been verbally shredded on the spot, but he held his peace and, as an act of mild defiance, remained standing.
"I have two meetings with Ministry officials this afternoon, dinner with an acquaintance this evening, and business with Minerva tomorrow morning. Unless your social calendar is equally booked," he beamed at the increasingly alarmed expression on Severus Snape's face; clearly, he knew what was coming, "I must request that you make the girl's acquaintance and subtly inform her of her danger."
"Headmaster, I must protest. If Lucius discovers that I've gone anywhere near the girl, he'll assume…"
"I'm sure you'll think of something, Severus. Tell him you're getting close to the girl to ascertain the location of the scroll. Tell him she approached you and you took full advantage, but do something. If she doesn't have the magical ability to properly ward the shop, then you will assist her. You will also make certain that she is personally protected from Malfoy as long as your position against him is not discovered. You are one of the most cunning wizards I know, Severus. I'm supremely confident that you can do this."
Severus' eyes were huge by this time. He could not believe the Headmaster would ask this of him. Going back to Voldemort he could manage, but this…he was no socialite. Most people could barely abide his presence. And, frankly, he felt the same about them. Not to mention, any family member of that miscreant, Borgin was bound to be distasteful in the extreme. However, when Dumbledore made up his mind, there was little one could do to deter him. With what little composure he had left, he excused himself to begin planning for this catastrophe.
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Thank you so much, Red Ribbon and Siverfey for taking the time to review my story. This is the first fanfic I've ever written and your response makes me feel much more confident about continuing the story.