Chapter 3

Oncethey arrived, the first thing Harry did was pull out his wand . He turned on the spot; taking in what he was sure was the most derelict setting he had ever had the displeasure to experience. He was somewhere in the London, he could tell. Dilapidated housing apartments rose up on their sides. The walls were layered with dirt and decades of filth. The cobbled street was broken and littered with various objects: old shoes and clothes, trash, and other miscellaneous bits of filth. The destitute environment didn't seem to change as far as Harry could see down the deserted street.

Harry quickly followed Moody as the limping man started walking over to one of the buildings. He stopped at a broken looking door and tried the handle. It didn't work, so he stepped back, and muttered a spell. The door handle fell straight off, and they stepped through the entrance.

Though the place was quite dark and shabby-looking, it was a bright contrast from the dismal setting they just stepped in from. The walls were a peeling green and the carpet was so filthy, Harry couldn't discern what it color was supposed to be. There were a few chairs and tables scattered around, and Harry saw a sink with a few pots and pans in the corner. There were a few doors that led to what Harry presumed was the bathroom and sleeping room. Harry, his wand at the ready, stepped around an overstuffed chair on his way to the first door. He paused to give the chair an odd look, but then continued around an inconvenient table and to the first door. He glanced at Moody, who was right over his shoulder, wand at a similar position. Moody nodded, and Harry wrenched the door open and stepped inside. No one was in the room.

No one was in the other rooms either, and Harry couldn't help but feel annoyed. Moody stated, "It looks like we're gonna be here fer a while, lad," and got a seat from a near by table which he sat down upon. Harry looked around, annoyed. He picked the chair nearest to him and sat down heavily. It was with pain and embarrassment that Harry found him self on the floor, the splintered and collapsed chair under him. It obviously had not been used in several years.

"Are you sure he even lives here, Harry growled," as he got up, sore.

"Aye, he lives here alright. Never was much fer tidiness though. That and being dependable." Moody laughed harshly.

Harry stomped over to the armchair he had stepped over before. It was when he bent down to pick it up that he felt it – a light tingling at the tips of his fingers. It felt like an invisible feather was brushing his digits. He withdrew quickly, surprised at the sensation. He inspected his hands closely, before realization dawned upon his unwitting mind. He had just sensed something magical! It was like what Dumbledore had said the year before. Magic leaves traces.

Harry dropped his eyes from his hands to the suspicious object in front of him.

"What's the matter?" Moody inquired, looking from Harry to his fingers as if there was a reasonable explanation to why Harry had just drawn his wand on armchair.

Harry paused for a moment, before driving his wand hard into the chair's cushion, concentrating on the words finite incantatum.

The next few moments were a flurry of confusion. The now revealed form of the filthy Mundungus Fletcher flew up, grabbing his wand from his raggedy robes, but it flew out of his hand from Harry's Expelliarmus spell.

Mundungus didn't stop though, and pushed past Harry, scrambling over a piece of furniture and almost making it to the door before–

"Petrificus Totalus!" The spell hit dung in the back, and he fell to the ground, straight as a board.

"Good work, lad. Lets get this filth up." Moody levitated Dung with his wand, and dung's limp body floated over to the corner of the far end of the room. Harry moved forward and muttered, "Finite Incantatum" for the second time that day.

Mundungus sat up this time, but with Harry and Moody's wands trained on him, he didn't try to escape. He let out a toothy grin, revealing two rows of yellow teeth.

"What's that y'want now? I didn't do it - I swear on me dead mum's grave I didn't!"

Harry gave a look of reasonable disgust and said, "I don't want to know what else you've done lately, but just the location of an object of Sirius' that you took some time ago. It's a gold locket with a snake on it. It means a lot to me to have it back."

Dung gave a look of relief, as if he had just been let off the hook. "Well, I can naught say where yer trinket is fer sure, but I believe I sold that one to a man known to me as Borgin. He owns a shop o'er at Knockturn. Shady place that is, but I did get a pretty galleon or two for it."

Harry lowered his wand, "And you're sure you sold it to Borgin?"

"Aye, that I am."

Moody, who had remained silent during the discussion, said, "Well there ain't no use staying here, lad. Next stop, Diagon Alley."

Harry nodded and said to Mundungus, "You had better be speaking the truth, cause if you lied to us…" Harry trailed off threateningly.

Harry and Moody whipped around and exited Mundungus shabby home. When they reached the street, Harry confirmed "Diagon Alley, right outside Alivan's."

Moody nodded, and one pop later they were standing next to each other in the open street. A few people walked purposefully past them carrying bags of miscellaneous contents. Each seemed in a hurry, as if they didn't want to stay out in the open for too long. Harry looked over to Alivan's and noticed that the shop was still closed and apparently deserted.

"Let's go." Moody said, his blue eye whirling around suspiciously.

Harry nodded and they made their way over to Knocturn Alley's entrance.

Though the rest of Diagon Alley seemed quite unnaturally empty, Knockturn was the same as Harry remembered it – dark and decrepit. Hags stood outside shop windows, displaying gruesome trays of human parts. Hooded witches and wizards strode, ominous in the gloomy light. One of the hags apparently recognized Moody, because she abruptly dropped her tray of human fingernails and fled down the twisting road.

Harry pushed his bangs over his scar carefully, and Moody discreetly lowered the tip off his bowler hat so that it covered his tell tale eye.

They continued further into Knockturn Alley, Harry making sure he was taking the right path by checking the shop names. After a few minutes, they found themselves right out side their destination, Borgin and Burkes.

Harry pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold. The shop was as dismal a place as ever, and Harry recognized some of the dark objects that were lining the shelves. Nobody was at the counter, so Harry went up to it and waited. Moody came up beside him and muttered, "More dark artifacts here than Arthur Weasly could wave his wand at..."

Harry rapped his knuckles on the glass counter loudly, and only a moment later, the shop owner, Borgin, came out, looking perturbed. It was only a few seconds before Borgin recognized Moody, and consequently drove his hand into his robe pockets to get out his wand. Moody was decidedly quicker though, and Borgin unwillingly had his wand flung out of his hand moments after he procured it.

Borgin's eyes were wide open and flung from Moody to the other intruder, Harry, traveling from his wand to his face and inevitably his scar.

"Potter-"He spat, "and of course Madeye Moody. What can I do for you?"

Harry stepped up, "I need you to return something of mine that you purchased from Mundungus Fletcher none too long ago."

"Fletcher, aye? I migh' ave bought a thing er two from that piece of trash. What's it to you?"

"He stole something of mine," Harry replied. "And I need you to give it to me. It's a locket – a golden locket and it has an engraved snake on it, the sign of Slytherin as I'm sure you know."

"I've never heard of it –"

Moody interrupted, "Yes you have, you filth, and unless you want a full enquiry on your shop and all its contents, I suggest you cooperate." Moody limped forward, his hand out stretched. Harry at first thought he was going to strangle Borgin, who had jumped back quickly, but Moody instead grabbed what looked to be a vial from a rack of them on the counter. Moody raised his wand above it, and muttered something, before looking back up at Borgin.

"Illegally brewed Veritaserum," he stated. "You can get a month in Azkaban for possession of this. This is only the first one I've looked at –"

"Alright, alright," Borgin exclaimed. "I'll show you the necklace, but you had better pay for it if you want it, and the price is not cheap!"

Borgin left them to retrieve the item from a secret location at the back of the store. When he returned, he was holding the necklace with obvious care. "Here it is – I'll give it to you for no less than one thousand galleons. It's a miser's bargain, to be sure, you must accept it."

Harry replied forcefully, "You will give it to me for fifty galleons and no more."

"But–"

"Fifty galleons."

"But I–"

"Fifty."

"But he–"

"Fifty!" Harry said, whipping out his wand and pointing it at the man.

Borgin was quiet for a few seconds before nodding his head and holding out his had. Harry reached into his pocket, counted out the money, and gave it to him.

With more obvious reluctance than Harry thought was quite necessary, Borgin handed over the necklace. Harry looked at it closely, checking it for its authenticity and pocketed it, satisfied.

Moody said gruffly, "Did you get what y' wanted?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, yeah, this is it. Lets get going."

Moody looked over to Borgin, "I suggest you don't mention this little transaction to anyone if you wish to remain outside of Azkaban." Borgin let out a cowardly whimper, and Moody chuckled as he followed Harry out the door and into the night.