October, 1996. Knockturn Alley.
The wizard apparated to a sleazy looking area which was identified by a battered sign on the corner of one block a 'Knockturn Alley'. He had been here several times before, to purchase items that he needed. The shops here tended towards the blacker sorts of magic, which was good. It meant that the people working in them would be unlikely to contact the authorities about any unusual people or purchases.
Right now he needed to renew his supply of polyjuice potion. He was running low, and made it a point to alter his appearance whenever he went out in public in wizarding areas. It was unlikely anyone would recognize him, so far from his home, but he did not want to take the chance.
The first few shops he went into could not help him. One of them specialized in stolen jewelry, another in poisoned weapons and silverware. The clerk at the second directed him to a shop a few doors down with an ancient sign hung over it that said 'Borgin and Burkes'. The wizard entered the shop and saw a weaselly looking man putting several polished bones into a small jar on one of the shelves. He was not certain whether this was Mr. Borgin, Mr. Burke, or merely one of the help. Before he got a chance to ask, the clerk looked up at him. His expression was greedy at first. Here was a new customer. Then the clerk took in the distinctly muggle cut of the grey trench-coat and fedora he wore, and the expression became one of contempt.
" 'S there somethin' I can do for you?" The clerk asked in a voice that suggested that he would just as rather not do whatever it was the wizard wanted.
"I need some polyjuice potion. A lot of it."
" 'Zat so." The clerk had finished filling the jar with bones. The looked like human finger bones, if the wizard was not mistaken. There were a few fingernails on the tips of some of them. "How much do you want?"
"I'd like a whole case. 12 quarts."
"A case?" The clerk gave him an odd look at a request for such a large quantity. Then the greedy expression he had had at first returned to his face. "That's going to cost you, guv'ner."
"How much".
The clerk named a price that was ridiculously high, no doubt expecting to be haggled down, but the wizard just nodded. Money meant very little to him any more. He had plenty of it, but no amount in the world could purchase what he truly desired.
"That's fine." He told the clerk. "Go and get it. I'm in a hurry."
The weasel faced clerk looked askance at a customer who did not care in the slightest that he was being ripped off. Strange, but probably not a trap of any kind. Polyjuice potion had any number of dishonorable uses, but it was not illegal. So he could not get into trouble for selling it.
"Our stocks are down in the cellar. I'll have to go fetch it. Just be a moment." He told the wizard. He cast a simple theft-detection ward, and then opened a small door behind his counter and disappeared down a narrow staircase.
While the wizard was waiting for the clerk to fetch his order from the basement, he looked around at some of the other items in the store. Judging by the quantity of malevolent objects in the shop, the clerk was quite used to customers with unusual requests who were up to no good. Indeed, on close inspection, most of them were far worse than he had realized at first. The worst ones were behind complex disillusionment wards, that made them appear to be something else, except to the clerk and certain privileged customers. The disillusionment had little effect on the wizard, a few moments of concentration, during which he felt his eyes actually physically change, permitted him to see their true nature. Which was utterly horrible and perverted. The choking tie, for instance, was created by a spell that required it to be soaked for 24 hours in the blood of a newborn baby that had been tortured to death. No doubt it was a muggle baby, many dark wizards regarded muggles as nothing more than animals, when the truth was that it was the dark wizards themselves, who were animals.
Just precisely why, the wizard wondered, did so many magical folk think they were so much better than the muggles? Because they were more powerful? Well, so was an ape. A chimpanzee was far stronger than a man, and could easily rip your arm right off and beat you over the head with it.
The wizard was tempted to show the clerk in the shop precisely what power really was. It was hard to restrain himself. The things he had done to himself constantly increased the darker side of his nature. Every day that passed made his temper worse, and his ability to control it more tenuous. But he needed the clerk alive. More respectable shops would no doubt inform the authorities of such large purchases of polyjuice potion as he needed to frequently make. He satisfied himself with the thought that sooner or later the clerk would no doubt be caught and punished by the English Ministry of Magic, who had punishments so disgusting that even someone as twisted as he was could not stomach them.
Thinking of the obscenities that went on in this country in the name of 'justice' was a mistake. His heart, or what he had left of it, thudded violently in his ears. An ominous drumbeat, nearly drowning out the voice of the clerk, who had come back up the stairs with a dusty wooden crate filled with ornate glass bottles.
"This be enough for you, then?" the clerk said. The wizard heard his voice only dimly, as if from a great distance. Then he was broken from his state of fury by the sound of a loud crash. The clerk had dropped the wooden crate on the floor, and was looking at the wizard with a terrified expression on his face. Given the sort of things he sold, it took a lot to frighten the clerk of this shop, but what he saw now was more than sufficient to do so.
"Your... your eyes!" The clerk backed away, behind the counter, but there was nowhere to go but back down in the cellar. And there was no way out of there, he really did not want to be trapped in the dark with the wizard he saw before him. If he was a wizard, and not something else, far worse.
The wizard pressed his hands to his temples, and passed them in front of his eyes. When he looked at the clerk again, there was nothing amiss. "Is there a problem?" He said in a pleasant voice.
"No, no, no problem." The clerk scurried to pick up the crate he had dropped. The impact had splintered a board on one side, but the anti-shattering charms on the bottles had prevented any of them from breaking. "Just a trick of the light. Thought I saw something, but it was nothing. It's the windows in this place, they've been hexed a couple times you know, and play tricks with the light."
The wizard approached the counter, making the clerk cringe backwards. "How much for the lot, then?" He picked up one bottle from the crate and to the clerk's great astonishment, looked fondly at the intricate patterns in the glass, rubbing his finger over the glass as if greeting an old friend.
The clerk quoted him a price that was far lower than the one he had a few minutes before, wanting nothing more now than for the man before him to pay for his purchase and leave his shop.
"That will be fine." The wizard took out a pouch bulging with coins and counted out the precise amount. Then he drew his wand, making the clerk wince in fear once more, but to the relief of the cowardly man, the wizard did nothing more than cast a 'reducio' spell on the bottles, so as to slip them into one of the many pockets of the long grey coat he wore. Then he tipped his hat at the clerk and to the man's great relief, turned to leave his shop. It was just as well, as Draco Malfoy was entering, and the Dark Lord's newest servant probably had business to discuss that he did not want anyone else to overhear.
The wizard paused for a moment as a mere stripling of a boy entered the shop he was leaving. He was hardly more than a child. What was he doing in a place like this. He regarded the confident way the boy walked through the narrow aisles, and the recognition in the clerk's eyes. Obviously, despite his youth, the boy was no newcomer to this place. Or perhaps he was no boy. There were numerous magical ways to temporarily alter one's visible appearance or age. As well as darker ways to prevent one from aging much at all. He should know, he had aged far slower than he normally ought to have since he had done some of those dark things to himself, over 15 years ago. The things he had done to himself had been a mistake, but he had had his reasons for doing them at the time. Or so he had thought.
The boy noticed him staring at him. "Do you have a problem? Are you going in or out?"
The defiant tone in his voice was that of a youth, too stupid to know enough to be polite to an unknown person until you had ascertained their strengths and weakness. So it was a mere boy then. The wizard shrugged. Sad, to be corrupt at so young an age, but it was none of his business. The clerk was cringing again, but the wizard ignored him. The man was a gutless parasite.
"Out." the wizard said shortly and left the shop, slamming the door behind him.
