Eric continued with his carpentry work, scheduling and limiting his work load considerably. He charged a bit more than before, but found that if he invested the time, his customers didn't mind the expense too much. The fact was, while his magic could help him put out work faster, he was avoiding hard woods because it ruined his tools. Although working by hand was slower, the harder wood responded better to tools driven by hand.
In addition, he spent a good amount of time helping out with Lymeon's shop. Beyond making the tables and chairs, there was quite a bit of clean-up to do, as well as odd jobs. The pay was slim, but without expenses it went a great deal further. The Peals made it clear that whatever money he earned was his own. There would be no point to give him money for school if they were taking it away for rent.
It took about three weeks to remodel the shop front enough to open it as a cafe'. Initially, Eric wasn't sure how Lymeon was going to serve customers and keep a shop clean, but Willy made it easy. Soon, many of the regular visitors to Diagon Alley knew of the Crock & Kettle; an open and welcoming place where good service and a friendly atmosphere made for easy afternoon conversations. Eric took this as an opportunity to give Evelyn some 'outdoor time', where she could at least experience the presence of others, even if she couldn't interact.
The cafe's menu was somewhat limited. Coffee, a variety of teas, and several hot drinks were the featured items. Scones, biscuits and crumpets were the first supporters. For those wishing a light meal, a few kettled soups and a stew of the day were included. However, the little restaurant soon became more than conversation and something to sip. Eric and Lymeon always sought to be gracious hosts, and didn't mind performing the occasional favor for he customers – a delivered message, packages held to be picked up later, meetings arranged – all done with a welcome smile for the sake of an occasional gratuity. As their skills with the odd tasks improved and gained notoriety, the gratuities became more gracious. Soon, the tips that came in made more profits than the coffee, and the cafe' became renown for the creative services provided.
It was these services that brought in the regulars, most were admittedly residents of Knockturn Alley, who were probably sending third person post to cover their tracks. Mister Peal, however, was adamant regarding equal treatment of all customers: no questions meant no questions to anyone. This was, in fact, the way Eric first met Dorian Moon's parents. Harveste and Silver Moon ran an apothecary, but one given to reagents, potions and concoctions more powerful, and often more dangerous, than were considered appropriate. They set up shop on Knockturn, rather than Diagon, to be closer to their clients and to stay out from under the Ministry's supervision. They were, however, more open and friendly than many of the merchants of Diagon Alley, and never too proud to speak with anyone. Dorian often made visits for them, picking up and delivering orders from clients too upstanding to be seen in Knockturn's dark passageways.
Other clients of the coffee shop were, thankfully, far more respectable. Roger Wainwright in particular made regular stops, collecting discreet inquiries while forwarding equally subtle answers. Understandably, this meant periodic visits by Roger's enigmatic daughter, Naomi. Eric particularly enjoyed Naomi's visits, even if her quiet, enigmatic manner gave most people around her the chills. She had a delightfully introspective manner that questioned everything most wizards took for granted.
She was waiting for her father one day, locked in mortal combat in a cutthroat game of backgammon. As one of her gammons knocked two of Eric's to the bar, she looked slightly upward. "What is magic?"
Eric turned to her, completely confused. "Magic is a fundamental flux of the universe; the medium wizards use for a wide variety of effects." His die roll released both back onto the board.
She turned to him, her tone slightly sarcastic. "Thank you, I read Faxell's Basic Principles, just like everyone else. I mean, what is it?" A double-four blocked off two spaces in Eric's path.
Eric paused for a minute before his three-two roll sealed a space in her starting quadrant. "Some wizards claim that magic is generated by life, others believe it's some kind of primal energy, while still others believe that it's God's leftovers after he was through making Creation. The fact is, nobody knows for sure."
Naomi was unimpressed. A five-two roll sent another opposing gammon back to the bar. "So how is it that wizards can use something they don't understand?"
"What is gravity?" Eric snorted as a double-six roll was wasted.
Her eyes snapped upward as her dice repeated the previous roll. "What?" Her confusion shone as brightly as the sunlight that flashed as the glossy discs danced across the spaces, rushing towards their home.
"Gravity: ancient cultures used it to move water and build castles. It's in everything we do, but no wizard has ever understood it. You went to muggle schools – do the muggles know anything we don't?" The three-one roll was pathetic, but it did release the trapped disc.
Now it was Naomi's turn to pause and think. A four-two roll had drawn her gammons away from Eric's grouping. "No; nobody really knows what gravity is or why things fall together."
The double five was a mixed blessing; Eric blew by Naomi, but now the forces were all but separated. What remained was a dash for home. "The same goes for magic. Nobody really knows what magic is about; only that it exists and we can use it. We study it at Hogwarts to use it safely."
"Hey you two – delving into unnecessarily deep questions?" Dorian Moon arrived on the scene.
"That, and flushing Eric off the board." Naomi had batted Eric's errant gammon back to the bar, only now the final quadrant was overrun with her pieces.
Eric groaned in despair. He would have to wait until a space opened up, by which time Naomi would have cleared at least a quarter of her forces to the finish. "It was an intriguing question, which completely threw my game; I submit." Naomi seemed to pout slightly as the gammons returned to their homes. She didn't like unfinished games, even if the outcome was a foregone conclusion.
Dorian, however, was quite pleased. "Well, if you're all through getting beaten, you can help me take a few things back to my dad's shop." The delivery wasn't big, but there were a number of boxes that would make for difficult carrying if one person tried it alone. Excusing himself, Eric gathered a bundle and sped after his friend.
Passing through Knockturn Alley, Eric noted that the normally cramped alleyway seemed to open up for the two of them. Dorian had an unusual tendency to know everybody, and to exchange pleasant greetings with every third person. The smiles they received in return – not unfriendly, but twisted in one way or another – made for rather a disturbing walk.
Losing sight of Diagon, the two of them made their way up the crooked alley to the Moon Harvest Apothecary. There Harveste and Silver greeted Eric warmly, grateful for his assistance. "This was a rather complicated order. It's really nice of you to help Dorian bring it in."
"My pleasure, Mr. Moon. I'm just wondering, though; why do you have it delivered to the Peal's shop?"
Harveste smiled to Eric. "Worried about contraband? Don't worry – it's all legal and reasonably safe. There's two reasons why I have deliveries sent to the coffee shop. First, anything that gets sent to a Knockturn Alley address gets scrutinized by the Ministry of Magic, causing delays in shipments. Second, and more importantly, most folks don't like to make deliveries here. Having our shipments sent to Diagon Alley is a courtesy to our shippers."
"Oh, um, that's obvious." Eric could feel the embarrassment rising up his collar. He really didn't want to seem like he suspected the Moons of doing anything wrong. Their response, however, was friendly understanding, which was a great relief. Looking about, Eric found a number of odds and ends; dragon whiskers, chimera mane, salamander skins, and a plethora of other unusual things. Any of these could be mixed together to form some extremely powerful potions. "Well, I should be getting back now. I've got a bookcase to finish."
Dorian spun about. "Oh, Eric, were you planning on making it to the Quidditch World Cup?"
Eric sighed. "I wanted to, but with things turning out as they have, there's no way I can afford it."
Struck by the news, Dorian turned to his father. Harveste smiled at him. "Nonsense. This is a rare opportunity. We're taking the Wainwrights already – I'm sure we can make room for one more."
The Moon's generosity was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Eric didn't know how much tickets to the World Cup would be, but he knew they'd probably be more than he could come up with in a month. "I don't know what Hagrid would say, or the Peals, for that matter."
Mr. Moon's enthusiasm was undampened. "Hagrid is a regular client of mine. I'm sure he wouldn't mind our giving you a day to enjoy. As for the Peals, I'd be very surprised if they don't take in the game themselves. All the merchants expect both Diagon and Knockturn to empty out for the tournament. There's nothing that's going to be happening here."
Eric felt like he was falling down a great landslide. "But, I don't have..."
Mr. Moon waved a friendly hand. "Plenty of time to work out the details. Now, off with you. Talk with the Peals and make your arrangements. Be sure that you plan to arrive about a week early. That's when we'll be there – it makes for a wonderful vacation!"
Dorian turned as he put away various items. "Just head back the way we came and keep to the center of the alley. You'll be fine."
Eric waved goodbye and started heading back. It wasn't long, however, before he began to regret not asking Dorian to help him. The alley was cramped, and there were a number of alcoves leading to this shop or that from which shrouded bodies would come out from nowhere. He tried to keep to the alley center, only to be driven to this end or that, and the more he struggled against it, the more he found himself pushed back.
"Are you lost, young man?" A bald, rat-toothed figure looked down at him menacingly.
He was soon flanked by a straw-haired hag. "Well well – a healthy young lad needing to find his way."
Eric turned away to find himself facing a hooded, wrinkled face. "No reason to run, boy; we only want to help."
He began to panic as a half-dozen shrouded figures closed in on him. "Please – I just want to go home."
The bald man let out an amused hiss. "But you are home, boy; you just don't know it yet." The group about him cackled in agreement.
Suddenly, there was a violent sound – like a giant wolf barking, growling and snarling. The crowd hissed in the direction it came from, only to have their objections replied to violently as an unseen figure struck one of them, knocking them across the alley to slam against a brick wall and crumple in an unconscious heap. The area around Eric cleared in response and he was, for a moment, alone.
Then a man came from out of the shadows. He didn't appear tall or imposing, but there was something about him, particularly his eyes, which led Eric to think of him as someone who was extremely powerful, possessing a wild strength capable of overcoming any obstacle. "Did they hurt you?"
"No sir, just frightened." At this moment, however, Eric didn't see him as powerful or wild – just welcome.
"Well, at least you show some good sense. A youth in this place would have to be foolish not to be afraid." His eyes darted about, as if searching for some attack.
Eric couldn't help but feel offended at his remark. "Dorian Moon walks this alley unafraid."
The man looked at him sternly for a moment before releasing a slight smile. "Dorian Moon has more friends than you imagine. If he is harmed, the consequences would be terrible." There was something in the way he spoke that eliminated all doubt. "My name is Kaneus."
"Eric Sable, sir; and thank you."
Kaneus smiled broadly. "Good manners, too. There's hope for you, boy – real hope. Walk with me." Like before, Eric noted that the residents of the alley cleared a path in front of him. Not wishing to lose the opportunity, he followed Kaneus quickly, to find himself safely led back to Diagon. "You shouldn't have any more problems here. We have made it clear you're under my protection."
"Thank you again." Eric began to breathe normally again.
"My pleasure. If you make it to the Quidditch World Cup, try to get there early, then find the camp of the Romul Clan. You will be welcomed as family."
As Kaneus started back up Knockturn Alley, Eric called to him. "Wait – how will I know where to find the camp?"
"Just ask around for Karan's Circle; but don't be too surprised at the looks you'll get." Kaneus nodded and smiled before disappearing around a corner.
Looking about and feeling confused, Eric nevertheless felt much better being only a few steps from home. However, he didn't even have a chance to start before he was ambushed again; only this time by the far more welcome faces of Fred and George Weasley. "Hey Eric – how's everything?"
"Not bad guys, but aren't you both supposed to be back at the Burrow?"
"Just a momentary break in daytime tedium as we devise new and diabolical plans. Care to help?"
Eric could never refuse a request from the Weasley twins. They were part of an extremely select group that he could turn to if he had to. "What do you need?"
Fred slung an arm about Eric's shoulder. "Nothing unusual, my friend! We're starting a business that needs an address. Hearing about how you're willing to take other people's mail, maybe you can collect ours?"
"Um, I guess so. What kind of mail?" He had no intention of refusing, but it would be helpful to know the kind of precautions to take against exploding packages or flasks of instant swamp.
George slid over to Eric's other side, crossing an arm with his brother. "Order forms, our fearless accomplice – order forms!"