Disclaimer: I told you all before, I don't own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise nor am I making any money off of this fic.
Chapter 4:
A Stroll Down Knockturn
With his hat covering his scar and adequately concealing his face, Harry walked into Knockturn Alley. Despite knowing what Olivander said, part of Harry really hoped that no one would see him here, consorting with unsavory characters. The other part of his mind, however, pointed out that if supposedly 'respectable' people like Lucius Malfoy could walk around without the fear of ruining their reputation, so should Harry. Harry shushed the two voices and focused on the task at hand.
Harry had realized not to long ago that Voldemort had a good 50 years of skill and knowledge over him. He knew there was no way he could catch up, but he had to try to at least minimize the experience gap. He had taken a look at the books he had purchased and had come to the conclusion that, even if he spent sixteen hours a day studying and practicing, there would be no way he could get through all the books he thought he needed to. Therefore, he decided he would have to rush things a little. A plan had been formulating in his mind during lunch, and he only hoped it would pan out.
Walking down the street, he tried to keep a sharp eye on the people around him without being too obvious. While there were definitely seedy looking characters here, there were also some decent looking people whom seemed to be there just for shopping, which helped him relax a little. Harry finally found himself in front of a store he knew dealt in "questionable" items. Borgin and Burkes, the shop he had accidentally Floo'd too on his first trip to Diagon Alley. Pushing open the door, Harry was surprised to see that there was no one but the clerk who managed the counter last time he had been there. Pulling out his Gryffindor courage, and hopefully a little tact, Harry put his plan in action.
The man at the counter looked up when the small bell above the door tingled. He stared at Harry for a moment, taking in his appearance. Apparently he was satisfied with what he saw, for his face immediately lit up.
"Ah, what can I do for you young man?" Focusing his mind and trying to look nonchalant, Harry spoke.
"Well you see sir, I am a student and, unfortunately, my grades have been rather dismal," he said, figuring it would be best to sound like some massive overachiever. "I really need to get some practical experience over the summer, but as you are no doubt aware, the damn ministry thinks that young people like me will behave 'irresponsibly' if it wasn't for their age decrees. I don't suppose you have something that might help me with my problem?" 'Damn,' Harry thought, 'I sound like those bad spy movies that Dudley watches. I really do hope I was subtle enough.'
"Well good sir, I do happen to have something that might make your summer more productive. Of course, it is not cheap, but I am sure you will find that it is well worth the price. After all, a young man's education is a serious and important investment."
"So I have learned. What is this help like?"
"I am sure it will wear on you eventually, but I am quite sure a hardy young man like yourself can handle it." He could have sworn the clerk had given him a wink.
"I think you might just have what I am looking for. What is your price for parting with such a useful study aide." Harry could not help but grin, for some reason, he found this blatant display of being indirect absolutely hilarious.
"Such valuable aides cost around 150 galleons." Even the clerk was smiling.
"Deal." With that, harry pulled out the sack of galleons he had gathered from his vault and counted out 150 galleons. He pushed 150 galleons over to the clerk while the clerk pushed a rather worn copy of Standard Book of Spells: Grade 5. Harry gave him a curious look and the man nodded his head in the direction of the book. Opening the book, harry found that the center was hollowed out and inside was a silver pendant that looked like a closed eye. Closing the book, he looked back at the clerk.
"If this does not work, I will be back."
"I understand young sir," the man said seriously. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Actually, yeah, I do need something else. In relation to my studies, I have found that, I am also lacking in time to study effectively. You know of any way to turn around my misfortune?"
"I am afraid I don't have what you need. But, I know someone who does. You should visit the shop of one of my friends, Pandora's Prodigious Paraphernalia. It is a mere two doors down, not hard to miss. Tell her I sent you and that 'the sands in the hourglass fall too quickly for me'. She will know what you want."
"Thank you. Please," he handed the man a stack of 25 galleons, making the mans eyes light up, "to show my gratitude. I am sure you will be a proper business man and not discuss our transactions with others?"
"Of course not sir. Thank you for your business, and uh, have a pleasant day." They both nodded to each other and Harry left the shop in search of Pandora's Prodigious Paraphernalia. 'I really hope I can be more direct after this, I feel so ridiculous trying to be underhanded but blatantly so. God, this is confusing.' Harry again pulled himself out of his thoughts (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately) and walked in Pandora's. Quickly seeing no one, not even a shopkeeper around, Harry opened up the book he got from Borgin and Burkes and pulled out the pendant. He looked at it for a second before placing it around his neck.
He let out his breath as nothing happened once the pendant was on. He then took stock of the store he was in. Unlike the last shop, this was very clean, almost Dursley clean, and was brightly lit with the light reflecting off the polished white marble floor. He heard a slight shuffle to his right and looked to see a rather ruffled middle-aged woman coming out of the back of the shop.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, but I have a rather delicate project in the back that required my utmost attention."
"No worries ma'am, I just got here."
"Yes, well, I am Anwen Pandora, at your service. What can I interest you in today?"
"Well, I was just at Borgin and Burkes and they did not have what I needed so I was sent here. You see, the sands in the hourglass fall too quickly for me and I was told that you could help." The woman gave him a knowing look and marched into the back of her shop again. Harry took this time to browse the goods that were on display. There were sneak-o-scopes, foe-finders, and other odds and ends, some of which he had seen in Dumbledore's office. He even saw a rack of a variety of eyeglasses. As he was gazing at the different styles, Anwen came back to the front of the store.
"I have two options for you. One deals in hours, the other days. Any longer than that and you are asking for trouble, not that you aren't already." She mumbled the last part, but Harry had heard it clearly none the less.
"I think the one that deals with days is probably my best bet. How much?"
"Six hundred galleons." He nodded and she handed him a transfer sheet. She looked at him for a moment. "You do realize the dangers of using these, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, chance of meeting yourself and changing events, thus creating paradoxes and the like and possibly screwing over the universe." 'Thank you Hermione!' he thought triumphantly.
She gave him a piercing look for a few more moments before handing him a small, white silk pouch that was surprisingly heavy.
"One turn sends you back a day. I think the total that thing will let you go is a month. Like I said, any farther and you can practically guaranty trouble. Remember that you never got that from me. Now, unless there is anything else you need…"
"Actually, I wanted to ask you about those eyeglasses." He pointed to the display holding the glasses he had been looking at earlier. She took a glance at his old, battered round frames he wore.
"Yes, I can see you need a new pair. I take it those are muggle glasses on your face?" He nodded his head and continued. "Well, all the glasses are enchanted to give you slightly better than normal eyesight. What makes them nice is that each pair has an extra optical charm on them placed on the frames themselves. Some allow you to see through solid objects, while others allow you to see thermals and such. All the pairs I sell are charmed unbreakable and also can not be removed by anyone except the wearer, though that requires a few spells on your part to bind the glasses to you. However, once you do that, not even summoning spells will remove them. There are also weather repelling charms and such, just to keep them generally clean. Here, let me help you find a pair." The two of them went through the glasses one at a time. Eventually, Harry picked out a silver wire-framed set with rectangular lenses that allowed him to see better in the dark. It was not perfect night vision, but in pitch black he would be able to see things in the gray scale. He also picked up a foe glass and self-dictating quills. He merely had to talk to them and they would write what was said. After paying the woman another 120 galleons, Harry headed out to find the shop Olivander had told him to visit.
As he was wondering around, looking at each shop sign, he happened to glance down an alley and saw weathered looking sign hanging over a short flight of stairs that seemed to head into the basement of a building. There was but one word written in peeling paint on the sign: Books. Seeing as how the afternoon was still young, Harry turned into the ally. He descended the stairs and entered a dimly lit shop with rows of bookshelves full of dusty old tomes. A man whose age could rival Dumbledore's was busy skimming through the titles of one of the shelves when Harry entered.
"Are you lost young man?" The man said, not even glancing up when Harry entered.
"Actually, I saw the sign and thought it would be prudent to check this place out. You have quite a selection of books." Harry was quite sure he heard the man mumble something about no one ever interested in his books, but it was said so quietly he could have been mistaken.
"Very well. Do you want something specific or are you just browsing? I can assure you that I do not carry any of those rather inappropriate books that you young adolescent boys find so fascinating; nor do I carry those damn Quiditch books either. That said, anything specific you need, or can you save me time and just leave now?" Trying to keep his temper in check at the man's rudeness, he tried to word his request carefully.
"Actually, there are quite a few books that I need, and none of them pertain to adolescent fantasies or Quiditch. What I need are books on dueling, magical combat, charms, the dark arts, and anything you have that might possibly deal with the arts of Legilimency and Occlumency. Perhaps some..." He was about to continue when he was cut off by the old bookkeeper.
"My, my, my. What does someone as young as you need all those texts for?" Harry paused for a moment before responding.
"I happen to have a powerful evil wizard after me and I need to know how to defend myself."
"Really? Not all of those subjects you listed earlier are defensive. In fact, I am pretty sure Legilimency is offensive." Harry thew him a cheeky grin as he responded.
"It has been said that the best defense is a good offense."
"So it has. Tell me, young man, what did you do to make this wizard go after you? Sleep with his daughter? Pilfer his potion ingredients? Trample his flower bed?"
"Well, actually. I haven't done anything to him. At least, not directly."
"I see. And is this wizard really an evil wizard or does he merely utilize the so-called dark arts?"
"I don't understand, what's the difference?"
"What's the difference! Why, it is the difference between night and day! Apples and Oranges! Dragons and rabbits! That is the difference!" 'Okay, now I am confused,' Harry thought, listening to the man rant.
"Umm, you sort of lost me." The old man stopped his rant and stared at Harry before relaxing a little.
"Yes, I suppose you are too young and inexperienced to have come to an understanding by yourself, especially with the education system these days. Therefore, it is my civic duty to inform you. First of all, please tell me that you are aware that the ministry is mired in bureaucracy and corruption, right?"
"Yeah, I have a lot of experience dealing with stupid ministry people."
"Very good. It's important that you realize that. Now, tell me, who decides what spells are dark and what spells are not?"
"Well, if I had to guess, id say the ministry?"
"Exactly my boy, exactly!" He now had a twinkle in his eye that reminded Harry a bit too much of Dumbledore as he gave a quick, excited clap. "And what do people at the ministry want? Control!" Harry just stepped back a little and decided to listen. He had heard Hermione go off on rants plenty of times and knew when to just step away and let the person speak.
"You see, young man, the reason that most of these 'dark arts' are labeled as such is that they are meant to harm others and are relatively powerful in the right hands. Hence, the ministry regulates them so they can control them. Keep in mind, that this does not make them evil. Have you ever heard of the 'light arts'?" Harry shook his head in the negative. The man thus continued.
"Neither have I, and I am quite sure my age and knowledge are both far greater than yours. The few spells that might fall into the category of 'light arts' are things such as the Patronus. Even then, the requirement to cast it is a happy memory and the intention of driving away a Dementor. However, even the darkest of hearts can feel happiness, even if it is in a perverse sort of way. In the end, I suppose it all comes down to actions. So you see, the term 'Dark Arts' is really quite questionable and all it does is limit those of us who might be considered good or 'Light' wizards."
"Excuse me, but what about the unforgivables?" The man looked slightly irritated at the interruption, but answered the question anyway.
"Did you not hear me boy? I said that most 'Dark Arts' are not truly evil, not all of them. The unforgivables are truly Dark because of the intention of the caster. You must enjoy causing pain to cast the Cruciatus curse. You must truly want to dominate and control someone to use the imperious curse. The one exception is the Killing Curse. It is both dark and neutral, depending on how it is cast."
"But..."
"Boy, shut up and let me explain." Harry felt a bitten taken back, but complied with the demand. "If you had, say, Voldemort disarmed and you had a clear shot, would you not use the Killing Curse?"
"But that is murder!"
"Really? Even if you know that if you let him live he would continue killing and destroying?"
"But there would have to be another way!"
"Well, I suppose you could put your wand to his heart and cast the Reductor curse, or perhaps a severing charm to his neck, or perhaps you could levitate him up a hundred meters and drop him down onto the pavement. There are hundreds of cruel ways to go about killing someone. Now, how are these much more gruesome and painful ways of death better than making it a clean kill? How is using these non-dark arts spells any worse?"
"I don't suppose they are, but the in the end, the argument is moot since the spell is considered by everyone else evil and, obviously, unforgivable. If I were to use such a spell on Voldemort, I would probably be labeled evil and either arrested or given the kiss."
"Too true, young man, too true. Well, now I must ask you the question I asked when you first came in here: Is this wizard that is after you a Dark Wizard?"
"I can most definitely say yes, the Wizard who is after me is a Dark Wizard."
"Very well, young man. Perhaps you could tell me who it is that is after you and I could perhaps help you select the most appropriate books for your studies."
"Well, Voldemort is after me."
"Please, Voldemort is after everyone, what makes you so special?"
"Can I have your oath that you will reveal to no one that I was here?"
"You have my word as a wizard that your identity is safe with me."
"Very well "and Harry removed his hat.
"I see," he said, glancing at the scar. "Well, that clarifies things a bit. Well, I would have to agree with all the subjects you requested, but why do you need Occlumency?"
"My reasons for that are my own, but if that will be a problem..."
"No, no, not at all. I have a few other subjects that you may find interesting. Let me go grab them."
"Thank you, I appreciate it."
While the old man was off somewhere in the store, Harry began taking a look around. There were books that ranged from the vilest forms of magic to innocent cleaning charms. He had just put back a book on demon summoning when the old shopkeeper came back with a load of books.
"I am pretty sure you will find most of these texts very useful," he said, placing the stack on a small table for him to look through.
Harry was skimming the titles when he came across two books he was rather surprised to see. The first one A Guide to Wizard Transit which described how to create a Portkey, how to Apparate, and many other spells and theory important to all forms of transportation used in the magical world. The next title, however, made Harry a bit nervous. The Path to Power: Rituals.
"Excuse me sir, but why did you include this book?" The elderly man looked at him as if he had just said Voldemort was really a muggle.
"Are you daft boy! Voldemort has at least fifty years of experience on you! You may have exceptional power and skill for your age, but there is not much hope for being able to compete with the likes of him! At least not as you exist right now."
"Voldemort used rituals to get where he is. Now he is a disfigured shadow of a human! I will not become him."
"I am not asking you to be like Riddle, I merely think some of the unlocking rituals would help you achieve magical maturity quicker." Harry was more than a little surprised to hear some stranger actually refer to Voldemort as Riddle and stowed that bit of info away to ask later. "The reason Voldemort is so twisted is because he has been seeking more than just power, he has been looking for immortality. I strongly encourage you to read through every ritual very carefully. Like I said, not all of them are dark and many will help you, especially against his Death Eaters." That actually brought another question to Harry's mind, one that he voiced ahead of his other one.
"Ok, two things. First, you called him Riddle. As far as I'm aware, that isn't exactly common knowledge. Second, why wouldn't his Death Eaters have used these ritual spells as well?" The old bookseller considered him for a moment before speaking.
"Well boy, the reason I call that thing known as Voldemort Riddle is because I went to school with him. Was even part of his so-called group of followers." Harry was absolutely stunned, to put it mildly, and perhaps a bit afraid. However, the man continued to talk and not pull his wand, so Harry paid attention. After all, jumping to conclusions and acting rashly had caused him far too many problems in the past.
"I was two years behind him, Slytherin of course." The older man continued. "Tom took me in and taught me the ropes. He was someone you couldn't help but look up to. Prefect, half-blood but still respected by the Slytherin house, indeed, he was respected by all the houses, and had power and skill to match. There must have been ten of us who were close friends of Riddle. It was within our little group that he came up with the name of Voldemort. We all had our names, but it was obvious to us that he was the leader." The old man paused as if lost in thought, perhaps reminiscing. "Yeah, we were something back then. We all stayed in touch out of Hogwarts, but then things started to go bad."
"Well, how so?" Harry asked. The only person he had ever met who knew Voldemort from school was Dumbledore (if he didn't want to count Ginny), so he wanted to learn everything he could.
"Well, he started 'the plan'." At Harry's questionable look, he elaborated. "During our time at school, we created scenarios on the best ways to gain power. While others spent their time flying around on broomsticks or throwing parities, we would sit around and discuss things. We were arrogant to a fault, believed we could do anything. Problem was, we couldn't do everything. Voldemort understood this better than anyone one of us and thus he took steps to rectify what he considered as his inadequacies. Now, you must understand that Riddle wasn't so much pro-pureblood but vehemently anti-muggle. He even went so far as to open the Chamber of Secrets."
"I know," Harry said calmly. "Did he ever tell you about his diary?"
"You know about that?"
"Unfortunately," Harry replied dryly.
"Yeah, Tom was like that, brilliant but dangerous, though, he hid it well from the others at school. And his hunt for power knew no bounds. After we all graduated, he traveled the world, searching for spells and ancient magic that would make him more than just powerful, but immortal. That book you have there," he said, gesturing to Path to Power, "is just a small sample of these types of magic out there. You could use all of the ones in that tomb but still not be as twisted or as powerful as him."
"Most of us followed him, including me. For us, it was all about power. We cared little for the biases Riddle held. We had a saying, something like 'there is no good or evil, only power.' We lived by that phrase. However, none were as capable as Tom and could not or would not go as far as he did. He wanted immortality, to be some god-like ruler of the wizarding world, perhaps even the world. No doubt you thought me terribly old when you came into my shop, but as you have probably realized, I am still young, as far as wizards go. Chalk it up to a botched ritual." He took a moment to look at his wrinkled hands before he continued, keeping his gaze on his appendage. "Screwing up was a wake-up call for me. It was then that I then realized that I was unable and unwilling to go to the lengths that Riddle was willing to go or required us to go to so as to be effective to his plan. It was then that I found my conscience. So, I got out."
"You got out?" Harry said in shock. "He just let you go?"
"Remember boy, we were his most trusted friends and I was not a threat, at least, not for long. The ritual I botched screwed with my magic, making it chaotic. I could be as weak as a squib or almost as powerful as Tom himself. I could not control it, but that problem became moot after about a year. My magic started to decay at a rapid pace and I began to age quickly. Tom believed I would die soon and, drawing upon his last bit of humanity, decided to let me die a natural death, for old times sake. Well, he trusted me to be honest, and I lied. I told him the pace of degeneration was higher than it really was. I even faked my death, funeral and everything."
"Ok. Um, why did you turn on Voldemort? I mean, what made you change all of a sudden?"
"Well, I was loyal, until he started his war against the wizarding world. In all our plans and scenarios, we always planned on a clean coupe. However, as the war dragged on, I realized the Tom that I knew was different, changed. I believe that, for him, it was about more than power, it was about vengeance and hate. He turned from power for powers sake to evil, and I do believe that there is a difference between the two, both in magic and in morality. I thank the fates that I got out when I did and was able to disappear, for when Riddle went evil, he took the others down with him."
"It sounds like you don't like what he has become. Why don't you fight him?"
"Humph! I would if I could, but alas, my magic has decayed to a point now that I am lucky if I can cast a cleaning charm, much less a stunner or a shielding charm. Given the rate of my magical decay and accelerated aging, I'd say give me another four years before I turn to dust. But, I digress. You asked about the Death Eaters, right?"
"Yeah," Harry replied, a bit surprised at the sudden change in topic. "I wanted to know why I shouldn't expect them to have performed these power-enhancing rituals as well…"
"Hah! The Death Eaters are nothing but mere pawns and tools to Voldemort. For the most part. I hear he favors some of them, but that is just rumor. Anyway, Death Eaters wouldn't dream of touching these rituals because they have so much faith and pride in their blood. You see, these rituals sometimes add foreign magic to one's body. Now while they don't usually change the blood of the user, unless you screw up, they can change your magic. It would be an insult to the family and to their blood for one of those pure-blooded bigots to use these. After all, as far as their primitive minds can think, they don't need anything more than the gift of their magically pure blood."
"I take it then, sir, that you yourself are not a pure-blood sir?"
"Actually, I am almost pure blooded. However, I was friends with quite a few half-blooded Ravenclaws. My father was a quarter-blood and my mum was a pureblood. I understood Tom's issues with the muggles, but as far as I was concerned, what Tom felt about them was not my problem and should not have influenced 'the plan'."
"So, um, whatever happened to the others?"
"What others?" the bookseller asked.
"The other ones who followed Voldemort with you at school."
"Well, I believe two were killed by botched rituals and another four were taken out by Aurors and given the kiss. That leaves four of us left, not counting Riddle himself, and I am practically an invalid. These last three, Mr. Potter, are possibly the most dangerous followers of Voldemort you may ever meet. They had no qualms about dark rituals and sunk into the dark magic with Riddle. Luckily, two of them are known to be hiding out in far away lands. They were best known during the first war for their efforts in spreading the war beyond England, rallying groups together, and creating satellites of the Death Eater organization. Ironically, the countries in which they were based in were harsher in their hunting of Voldemort followers after the war than Britain. Thus, they lost practically all of their Death Eaters and they themselves were tossed in jail, though they eventually escaped and went into hiding. The third one, however, I don't know."
"Well, how dangerous can they be?"
"Very dangerous, Mr. Potter. Not one of the ten of us who followed Riddle on his warpath were ever marked. As far as he was concerned, we were as close to being his equals as one could get and thus he granted us some measure of respect and equality. Granted, our power was still nothing compared to his. This third one, Brian Kors, disappeared off the face of the Earth before the first war. I can only assume he is still loyal to Riddle, but where he is and what he is up to remains a mystery." They stood there in silence until the bookseller looked up at a clock on the wall.
"Dear me, look at the time. Well Mr. Potter, I hope I didn't bore you with my life story. It is getting late and I haven't had supper yet, so lets get your purchases made and we can both be on our way." Harry just nodded in agreement and paid the man in coin for the texts. Just as he was leaving, the older man grabbed him by the arm.
"Remember Mr. Potter, just because someone says something is evil does not mean that it truly is. But also beware of those who claim all magic is the same. I promised you that I would keep your secret safe, so I ask the same from you." Harry just nodded, and the man let him go. Harry wandered out into the street, his mind still reeling from all he had just learned. It was around 6 in the evening and all he had was one more shop to stop into. It was almost in a daze that he came across the shop he was looking for: Tapio's
The last shop was relatively easy to find, which was good considering how distracted Harry was feeling. Harry had been expecting Tapio's to be similar to Olivanders, small, dark, and musty. He did not expect what he found. The store reminded Harry more of an armory that a wizarding shop. The walls were covered in racks carrying a multitude of weaponry. The center of the place was dominated with a large, circular bar surrounding a couple of worktables and an anvil in the center. Standing over one of the worktables and currently working on, well, something, was a man who appeared to be in his early 40's. He looked up when Harry entered his shop.
"Good day to you young man, or is it evening now? Well, it's not important. What can I help you with?"
"I'm not really sure. I wanted to get a second wand, but Mr. Olivander said he couldn't sell me one. He did, however, say something about a loophole and going here to your shop. I don't suppose you could explain?"
"Why of course I can! You see, while a witch or wizard can't have two wands, there is no legislation on wizarding weapons!" He looked at Harry as if this should excite him also. Harry, however, was merely confused (again, not too hard to do at this time).
"Right. Now, um, why are wizard weapons so special?" Tapio's face fell a little.
"Why my boy, wizarding weapons are just like wands, but a hell of a lot more useful! First of all, you can have more than one. Second, they have larger magical cores so they are more powerful. And third, you can use them as a weapon! "
"Okay. If they are so wonderful, why don't we see them more often?"
"It's the pureblood families. They were the ones who got rid of the practice. It was part of some movement a couple hundred years ago to try and distance the wizarding world from any muggle influence. Since then, they have mainly fallen out of favor. I keep up business by repairing the old family heirlooms that people bring in. I do sell a few pieces, but they are usually to some noble pureblood for his collection. That does not mean, however, that I skimp on quality!"
"Okay, you have me convinced, I will get one." Harry glanced around the large shop. "How, exactly, do I choose one?"
"Well lad, it's pretty easy. Weapons aren't very picky, contrary to wands. You could possibly use another persons weapon as effectively as your own, but most people put some custom charms on them to prevent that. Don't worry, I will explain later. Tell me, what style interests you?"
"What do you mean?"
"What type of blade do you want?"
"I don't really know, can I look around?" Tapio nodded his head and Harry began browsing. There were daggers, short swords, long swords, really big swords that were taller than Harry himself. He walked by the racks, occasionally picking up a weapon he thought looked interesting and tried getting a feel for it. Eventually, he found himself a rapier that seemed to just feel right. Placing the weapon in his left hand, he continued browsing.
"Hey Mr. Tapio, what's this?" Harry had found a small shelf that contained either really long daggers or really short swords. Once of the blades he found was actually quite beautiful. The blade was thirty centimeters and made of platinum with a rather simple handle wrapped in brown leather with silver fittings. "Its beautiful."
"I suppose the obvious thing to say is that it is a blade, which it is, by the way. It is actually an enchanted dagger, though I don't see much use for it."
"Why is that?" Harry asked as he lifted the dagger and moved it around a bit.
"Well, you see, wands and wizard blades are capable of casting spells. You usually point your wand or weapon in the general direction of what you are casting the spell at. You can't do that with these knives. These are just plain old knives and such, though they are enchanted. See, the one you have has an enchantment on it to remain sharp and to actually increase its sharpness beyond what is physically possible. So don't go cutting yourself with it, you may just remove a limb. It is also magically hardened and reinforced, so it won't bend or break. Again, most wizards don't use em, preferring cutting charms and the like." Harry just nodded his head as he listened to the man describe the properties of enchanted blades. "So lad, found what you wanted?"
"Yeah, actually. I will take this sword" he handed Mr. Tapio the rapier "and the dagger."
"You did hear me say that that other blade is merely an enchanted blade, not capable of casting spells, right?"
"Yeah, but it will be a nice challenge to learn how to use it."
"Hey, it's your money." His gaze moved over to the rapier. The thin meter long blade had two tapered grooves on each side. The hilt was wrapped in silver wire and had an Italian basket hilt, with thick metal cords weaving gracefully around the handle, resembling something like a twisted ribcage. "Good choice on the rapier though. You know much about the weapon?"
"No, actually. It sort of just felt right."
"Well, you chose well, no matter the reason. The blade has a core of dragon-heartstring wrapped in griffin feathers. A rather nice combination, if I do say so myself."
"I've never heard of griffin feathers being used."
"Well, there are strong, but a bit finicky. The dragon heartstring helps to stabilize it. Now, since you don't really know what you're doing, I would recommend you buy these two books "he reached under the bar and pulled out two books and tossed them on the counter. "One of them tells you how to enchant you blade for a variety of different purposes and how to practice duel wielding. The second one is basic swords use and blade maintenance."
"I'm suppose to learn how to use a sword from a book!"
"Please lad, it's not like anyone in the wizarding world actually know how to fence or anything. You just need to know how to keep it out of your way and how to swing it correctly. And before you ask, duel wielding is just that, using a blade and your wand at the same time. Quite difficult, but with a larger magical core in the sword, not impossible."
Harry just nodded in understanding, finding nothing else to say. There was a rather uncomfortable pause as no one spoke. Harry had to break the silence.
"So, how much do I owe you for the sword, the dagger, and books?"
"Right, um, let's see. The rapier will be 45 galleons, the dagger is 20, and the books will be ten apiece, and do you want a good belt, frog, and scabbard?" Harry just nodded. "Right, that will add another 20 galleons."
"Twenty? That's a bit much for a belt and such, isn't it?
"Well lad, they are layered with enchantments to prevent unwanted summoning spells from removing it off your body. Also slightly resistant to minor spells like cutting charms and what not. Not to mention, the high quality dragon hide they are made of!" Harry still looked a bit hesitant. "How about this, I will toss in both a sheathe for the dagger and a wand holster. Deal?"
"Fine, I suppose that will do." Harry filled out yet another transfer sheet. After paying for his things, Harry left for one more location before he went back to Madam Malkins for his robes. Just outside Knockturn Alley in Diagon Alley, was a little wizarding outdoors store. He rushed in to the store and quickly found an attendant. It was getting late and he felt he should probably get back soon incase someone noticed he was missing.
"Excuse me, but do you have wizarding tents?"
"Of course we do. Is there a specific one you had in mind?"
"Yeah, I need one with at least five bedrooms."
"Okay kid, we have something that should work." The attendant stepped over to a large shelf and pulled out a meter-long cylinder of forest green cloth. "This here is a standard hunting tent. It has five bedrooms, a kitchen, 2 bathrooms, a foyer, and a common area. Before you ask, its called a hunting tent because the outside has a disillusionment charm built into it and foyer is designed so that you can see out of it while remaining invisible. No point in drawing attention to yourself out in the woods, right? Anyway, you just have to activate it. Instructions are inside."
"That's perfect. How much?"
"25 galleons." Harry paid the guy in coin and tossed the tent into the stone chamber of his trunk before continuing on his way. He stopped off at Madam Malkins and picked up the rest of his robes and placed them in his trunk. With all of his new possessions in his trunk and the amulet around his neck that was supposed to make his magic undetectable, Harry shrunk his trunk and put it in his pocket.
The ride home on the Knight Bus was uneventful, and he got off well out of view of #4 Privet drive. Once he stepped off the bus, he threw his invisibility cloak on and headed 'home'. The sun was beginning to set when he arrived, and he knew that the Dursley's would be eating right now. 'Best to go through the front door then.' He cast a silencing spell on the doorknob and stepped inside. He expected the living room to be empty, or perhaps have Dudley watching TV. He did not expect to see Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, and Albus Dumbledore sitting there staring at him. Well, Dumbledore was staring at him along with Moody, while Remus was looking in his general direction. He stood there in shock for a few moments before Moody finally spoke up.
"You have a lot of explaining to do, Potter."