Chapter Seven: Knockturn Alley

"It is a commonplace that the characteristic virtue of Englishmen is their power of sustained practical activity, and their characteristic vice a reluctance to test the quality of that activity by reference to principles." -R. H. Tawney

'I am not pleased by this development, Lucius.'

The wizard bowed his head. 'Nor am I, my Lord.'

On this occasion, Severus had been summoned to an abandoned, decrepit building. A thick sheet of dust covered the decaying floorboards, leaving trails of footprints visible as well as the thick, undulating path of Nagini that lead to the corner where Wormtail stood with all the temerity of a spooked horse. A rickety table stood in the centre of the room before the Dark Lord's throne. On this occasion only the Dark Lord, Lucius Malfoy, Wormtail and himself were present. Slivers of moonlight slipped through gaps in the boarded-up windows, illuminating the abundance of dust in the air.

'You were meant to run unopposed, save for that imbecile Allgood.' The Dark Lord began to pace. 'What do we know of this witch, Hailey Ahlgrim?'

Lucius paused to formulate his response; Severus seized the opportunity to cut in. 'She is the child of Radulph Ahlgrim and Isabel Bonaccord-'

'A distinguished parentage,' the Dark Lord mused.

'Nothing more than a blood traitor,' Severus returned smoothly.

The Dark Lord inclined His head. 'Nonetheless, there are those who are easily fooled. They see an affluent, pure-blood family and fail to search any deeper, believing any pure-blood would vote for their own interests.' The Dark Lord halted His pacing. 'What of her beliefs? Are half-bloods and Mudbloods likely to find her policies appealing? And why,' He slammed His palm on the table, 'was I not told of her before?'

A muscle in Severus's jaw twitched, his eyes flicked to Lucius, who swallowed. 'My Lord,' he began, 'I had no idea the wench would attempt something so radical.'

'Your family seems to have a persistent weakness where the Bonaccords are concerned,' He snarled, His eyes narrowed to mere slits.

Is that so? Severus had found no indication Lucius and Ahlgrim even had any contact outside of the Ministry. When Ahlgrim met him at Hogwarts' Gates last week she had valiantly attempted conversation with him. He had, of course, made clear in no uncertain terms he had no desire for such a thing. After that, she had wisely refrained from further efforts. Now, he wondered if such a move might have been erroneous on his part. He had read up on Ahlgrim and her family in the archives of The Daily Prophet, but such sources only provided abstracts and lacked all nuance. Perhaps he should have used the opportunity to discover more about her.

Lucius clenched his fists. 'That fault lay with my father and my father alone.'

'See that it remains as such.'

A high-pitched squeak momentarily diverted Severus's attention to the corner of the room where Wormtail was feeding Nagini. Whether the squeak came from the rat Nagini was eating, or the rat who was feeding her, Severus could only guess.

The Dark Lord watched Wormtail's trembling with a faint twist of His bloodless lips before returning to the matter at hand. 'Who are her allies?'

'Albus Dumbledore and Amelia Bones,' Lucius said quickly, relieved at last to have information to contribute.

Severus, feigning annoyance, snorted. 'Obviously.'

Lucius looked like he desperately wanted to hex him.

'Explain, Severus,' the Dark Lord demanded.

'Dumbledore has been friends with the Ahlgrims for years. When Lucius was...' Severus paused, as if he was choosing his words with great care, 'sacked from Hogwarts Board of Governors, Dumbledore immediately approached Radulph Ahlgrim to fill the vacancy. As for Bones, Hailey Ahlgrim worked with her for years, if Ahlgrim became the next Minister, Bones would doubtlessly get preferential treatment in return.'

The Dark Lord inclined His head. 'Very good, Severus, though I wonder why I am not receiving this intelligence from Lucius.'

The normally tall and proud Lucius Malfoy seemed to wilt before their eyes. He said nothing in response.

'I want her defamed, I want her discredited and I want her destroyed! Can I trust that task to you, or should I have Severus campaign against her?' He mocked.

'That shall not be necessary,' Lucius replied through gritted teeth.

The suggestion of simply killing Hailey Ahlgrim need not be voiced. While the general populace was ignorant of the Dark Lord's return, an uneasiness had sprung up among the public following the riot at the Quidditch Cup. A prominent young witch dropping dead of supposedly natural causes would raise cries of foul play, regardless of the lack of evidence, and would doubtlessly reflect poorly on Lucius Malfoy's campaign. In time though, if Lucius failed to best her politically, The Dark Lord might seek more drastic methods. Severus hoped it would not come to that.

'Do not disappoint me, Lucius.' The threat could not have been more clear if He was brandishing His wand.

Lucius bowed his head deferentially. 'I shall not, my Lord.'

The Dark Lord hissed a command in Parseltongue and Nagini slithered over to Him, Wormtail following at what he deemed a safe distance. The snake wound itself around the Dark Lord who grabbed the pusillanimous wizard by the scruff of his robes and Disapparated.

'What the hell are you playing at?' Lucius demanded as he pulled off his mask. 'Are you trying to get me killed?'

Severus removed his mask. 'My allegiance is to the Dark Lord, and to Him alone,' he said smoothly. 'It is no fault of mine if you are afflicted with incompetence.'

Lucius took a step towards him, then reconsidered. 'You forget who you are dealing with, Snape!' he spat, before spinning on his heel and Disapparating.

Snape snorted. As do you.

It was nightfall so Knockturn Alley was teeming with figures shrouded in long cloaks and voluminous hoods. Severus pulled his own hood low over his eyes and joined the throng. After informing Albus of his latest meeting with the Dark Lord, Severus had determined it was time to reconnect with his informant in Knockturn Alley.

He passed a hag carrying a tray of what she claimed were bezoars (but were in actuality hairballs from a cat), Borgin & Burkes, and a brawl outside The Grey Jackal before ducking inside Fraudaire's Speciality Goods.

The shop was small, taller than it was wide and crammed with all manner of contraband as well as the sort of articles a thief, cheat, or fraud might need, as they were the shop's primary clientèle. On one shelf were spell books on erecting wards next to books on how to tear them down and volumes upon volumes on jinxes, hexes, curses and poisons. An Invisibility Cloak hung above an aquarium filled with silver spidery instruments that scuttled about. A Seven-Fold-Trunk similar to the one Moody had been imprisoned in sat next to an ice-coated stand of frozen Ashwinder eggs.

Severus glanced at the back counter but the proprietor, Victoria Fraudaire, was nowhere to be seen. He had started to examine a handsome set of quills (all bewitched to replicate the signature of a famous figure, from Celestina Warbeck to Cornelius Fudge) when the back door opened and a crup trotted out, its forked tail wagging excitedly. Severus, who had a strong aversion to canines of any sort, scowled at the creature but all it did was sit on its haunches and watch him.

It had been a number of years since he had last visited the shop and the crup was a new addition though little else in the shop had changed. The sign tacked to the back wall was still there; he wondered if others found it as droll as he.

'Fraudaire's will not aid or abet those attempting to commit murder. However, we will aid and abet those wishing to commit arson, bewitchment, fraud, robbery, and duplicity of all kinds, as well as aid those wishing to prevent the aforementioned from occurring.' -The Management

Victoria had been a year below Severus at Hogwarts, but their paths rarely crossed. The only memories he had of her then was her being crowned the "Queen of Cursing" (a seventh-year Gryffindor had bragged no one could swear like him, Victoria challenged his title and won; unfortunately, Professor McGonagall overheard the winning line) and her hexing off Black's hair when he spread a salacious rumour concerning her, the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, and the third-floor broom cupboard.

It was not until many years later while on an investigation on Albus's behalf that he happened upon the family shop. When her father had retired, Victoria had quit her job in the Office of Regulation and Disposal of Dark Artifacts and took over the store. Strange as it may be, Victoria Fraudaire was the only classmate he could bear to tolerate.

The back door opened and Victoria came out, trailed by a rather stout witch. Victoria was tall, rivaling him in height, with long hair in a dull shade of blonde. The revealing red robe she wore would have sent Minerva into an apoplexy. Tattoos of runes and symbols were scattered liberally over her arms and a crooked dagger hung from her belt. Severus recognised it from his copy of Verboten Arts and Objects as being exceptionally valuable.

'Two drops in 'is tea, that's all you need,' Fraudaire said, nodding to the phial in the client's hand.

'And then-?'

'You can forget about 'im sneaking off to meet that tart. Your 'usband won't be able to leave 'is bed. No, better than that, 'e'll be begging you to cut it off.'

The witch looked positively delighted and peered at the minuscule phial in glee. Severus, having a good idea of its contents, winced and shifted uncomfortably.

'Oh, I simply can't thank you enough!' the witch exclaimed, and after paying Victoria handsomely, hurried out the door, no doubt hoping to whip up a spot of tea before retiring to bed.

'Another satisfied customer, Fraudaire?' he enquired smoothly.

Victoria whipped around, a broad grin spreading across her face. 'Severus!' she cried, running to him and throwing her arms around him in an excited embrace. 'You 'ad me worried, you miserable bastard!'

With a scowl, he disentangled himself and took a step back. He had never given her permission to use his given name, but that was a fact Victoria had either forgotten or ignored; eventually, he had grown weary of reminding her. 'If I had known my absence would have caused you such grief, I wouldn't have bothered returning.'

She swatted him on the arm and went to the front door to flip the sign from 'Open' to 'Bugger Off'. 'Well, now that we've established you're not 'ere on my account, what can I do for you?'

'I need information.'

The change that came over Victoria was alarming; her face paled, her eyes widened and she glanced about, frightened. 'Not 'ere!' she hissed, grabbing his wrist and attempting to pull him to the back of the store. Severus jerked his hand out of her grasp. 'The walls 'ave eyes and ears, and probably noses as well!' She flung the door open and shoved him into the dim back room and followed, slamming the door behind her.

Severus drew his wand. 'Muffliato. Have your wards been tampered with?' he demanded.

'No, but I don't want to take the risk.' Her hands twisted themselves in the folds of her indecent robes. 'It's 'orrible. I don't know what to think, I mean not that I'm scared, well I am, but-' She cringed as if she had said too much.

Resisting the urge to shake the witch, he growled, 'Victoria, what happened?'

Her hands darted to the front of his robes and pulled him uncomfortably close to her. 'It 'appened- The Dark Lord,' she swallowed, ''E-Ooo-Must-Not-Be-Named 'as returned just as I always thought 'E would.'

'I know,' he said heavily.

'You know?' she gasped, then shook her head and released her hold on him. 'Of course, you know,' she huffed, 'you always were on top of things.'

Severus smoothed the front of his robes with a deep scowl while the witch turned away and busied herself with lighting the sconces on the walls. Their illumination allowed Severus to finally see the room: a rickety table with bubbling cauldrons sat in the centre of the room (Polyjuice Potion, Gregory's Unctuous Unction, and Veritaserum were just a few of the potions being brewed), with excess merchandise on one of the room side and a desk covered with parchments and ledgers on the other.

Pulling a wooden chair away from the desk she spun it around and motioned for him to sit and went to the liquor cabinet in the corner. 'I dunno 'bout you, but I need a drink, what'll you 'ave? Brandy? Ogden's? I know I 'ave some Merlot somewhere,' she muttered pushing aside bottles, wine glasses and cracked tumblers.

'Tea would be satisfactory,' he said, doing his best to inject a modicum of patience in his voice.

'Oh, I forgot, you don't drink,' she snatched the bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey and a glass. 'Tea?' she repeated, a disgusted look on her face, 'I don't 'ave any. Look, I'm as English as the next bloke, God Save the Queen, nation of shopkeepers and whatnot, but tea... tea tastes summffink awful; those Yanks 'ad the right idea bunking it in the 'arbor. Well, sit down why doncha?'

He crossed his arms. 'I prefer to stand.'

She huffed, 'Well beggin' your pardon, sir, for being 'ospitable!' and flopped into the chair, filled her glass, and took a generous swallow.

He smirked, and she rolled her eyes. 'Tory,' he said, 'I want to examine your business records.'

'You want to see them? 'Ow much?'

Raising one solitary eyebrow he asked, 'Do you mean how much I want to see them, or how much I am willing to pay for the privilege?'

'Both.'

'Let's say I have a vested interest in the records. Does thirty Galleons sound reasonable?'

'Fifty-five.'

'Forty.'

Victoria leaned back in her seat, her eyes scanning his. 'Fifty, or thirty if you answer one question.'

He opened his money bag and counted out fifty Galleons.

'Fifty Galleons and you answer my question or nuffink.' She crossed her arms, satisfied she had him in a corner. 'What will it be, Severus?'

'What is the question?'

She shook her head. 'Nope. No peekin'.'

He glared at her, weighing the options in his mind. Victoria was never one of the Dark Lord's sympathisers; he didn't need her reaction to His rebirth to tell him that. He also knew, all her illegal activity aside, she possessed basic morals. However, he had never heard her declare her support for the Order of the Phoenix or any of the others who aligned themselves against the Dark Order (though it was quite possible this was simply because he had not declared his position and she did not want to run the risk that their thinking was opposed).

Still, he trusted her. In fact, she was one of the select few who had earned the privilege. During the First War, he had purchased the very information he was attempting to buy now, as well as hearsay of other activity in Knockturn Alley. Victoria was his best informant; she had never breathed a word of their business with anyone, and that wasn't because he threw in a few extra Galleons to secure her silence. If Victoria wanted to give the game away, she would have taken the money, and without batting an eye, sold the information to the next person who asked. She had done it to others before.

His decision made, he took a deep breath and faced her squarely. 'Tory,' he said, 'I have a proposition for you.'

She batted her eyelashes, a smirk dancing about her lips. 'Oh, Severus,' she gushed, 'I'm flattered.'

He rolled his eyes, a snort of amusement escaping him in spite of himself. 'A business proposition: information in exchange for information.'

'If that's the case, I get... four questions.'

Severus shook his head. 'Absolutely not. You get one.'

'Two.'

He could tell by her mulish expression she was willing to go no lower and swept his coins back into his money bag. 'Now let me see those damn records.'

She smiled brightly at him and rummaged through the piles on her desk before extracting a large ledger bound by twine and handing it to him.

Flipping past the pages that detailed the gross margin of the previous months he found what he was looking for: Victoria, as a meticulous record keeper, kept track of everything she sold or purchased, from whom, when and for how much. Though as one might expect from a shop that sold many under-the-counter goods, the name was not always provided, and then the space would say something like, 'Witch with one eyebrow' or 'Bloke that looks like Stubby Boardman,' but other than that, the records were remarkably thorough.

Victoria let him read undisturbed, taking the opportunity to finish her glass and pour herself another.

The records also included whether she was bribed to keep the transaction a secret as well as, 'Sleeve length?' Severus stared at the column for a long moment. 'And why,' he asked, already suspecting the answer, 'would you care to know that?'

'I don't. I did it for you.'

It was as if a cauldron-full of icy water cascaded down his back. 'Is that so?' he nonetheless replied smoothly. 'And what need would I have for such a thing?'

Fraudaire set down her drink and brushed past him. She stared out the grimy windows in thought before whirling around, one hand on her hip, the other gesticulating wildly. ''Ave you noticed- remarkable coincidence it is- that everyone with the Dark Mark wears long sleeves? No matter the weather?'

Belatedly, she must have realised what she was insinuating, with the black, voluminous long-sleeved robes he always wore and laughed. 'Oh, Severus, I'm not talking about you!' She laughed again, clearly finding the idea of him being a servant of the Dark Lord quite ludicrous, though her laughter was somewhat higher than usual and she did not quite meet his eyes. 'I mean everyone else- you just dress that way to look like a great big, greasy bat.'

He sneered. 'My personal mode of dress aside, why should I give a damn if your customers are Death Eaters or not?'

Her left arm joined the other on her hip and she stuck out her chin stubbornly. 'I'm not daft, Severus.'

'I hadn't noticed.' To him, the retort was as natural as breathing.

Victoria rolled her eyes, 'What I 'ave noticed is when 'E-Oo-Must-Not-Be-Named was offed, I 'ardly see you around, now 'E's back and suddenly 'ere you are! The people you wanted to know about- were all Death Eaters or in some dark, dark business. What need would a Potions Master like yourself 'ave for all that?' She stepped forward, her blonde hair swinging about her face with the motion, and jabbed her finger into his chest, 'What 'ave you to say to that, Master Snape? '

Crossing his arms and hitting her with his most potent glare, he opened his mouth to issue a scathing rejoinder.

She interrupted him by snatching the ledger out of his hands. 'First question!' she crowed. 'Are you, or 'ave you ever been, a part of the Order of the Phoenix?'

Severus had difficulty concealing his surprise. Whatever question he had been expecting of her, that most certainly was not it. Victoria met his eyes undauntedly, giving him the perfect opportunity to peer into her mind. As on the previous occasions, he could detect no malice, no duplicity; though the unidentifiable feeling- a kind of wistfulness he had sensed since they had first met - was again present.

In deliberating how to respond, he came to the realisation he could answer truthfully. The Dark Lord of course knew he was in the Order of the Phoenix, as did the other Death Eaters. By telling her of his connection with the Order she would be able to give him more accurate information, as she would know precisely what intelligence he was seeking. Besides, if she did not like the answer he could always Obliviate her. He was quite adept at Memory Charms.

His decision made, he nodded, 'Yes, yes I am.'

She squealed in delight and made a move to embrace him again (which he forestalled by levelling his wand at her). 'I knew it!'

He arched an eyebrow. 'Is that so?'

'Well, no,' she confessed, 'but I 'ad 'oped.'

'Why?' He could think of no reason for her to care, one way or another.

She looked away, mumbling under her breath.

With a frown, he turned his attention back to the ledger. As he suspected, there was little activity that could be ascribed to the Death Eaters specifically. There was a large spike in the volume of goods being purchased about the time of the Dark Lord's return- while Severus doubted the denizens of Knockturn Alley knew precisely what had happened, it was clear word had spread something was amiss.

'I still get one more question, you know.'

'I am waiting with bated breath,' he drawled. Frankly, she had caught him off guard with her first enquire; now, however, he felt prepared.

Victoria was much more reluctant in posing her second question. 'Well, do-did you ever... were you...'

He glared at her over the ledger in a mien familiar to any Hogwarts' student caught after curfew. 'Out with it, Fraudaire.'

'Were you a Death Eater?' she whispered, frightful at being forced to be so direct.

Once again he found himself in the tricky business of duplicity- of taking a strand and spinning it into a web of half-truths and lies. He had, for years, lied to the Dark Lord's face, a feat few, if any, men could claim, lying to a shopkeeper was easy in comparison, yet he still felt the familiar surge of adrenaline.

Severus snorted. 'You are going to waste your question on that?' he asked disdainfully. 'You're not going to ask me whether I'm a vampire or if I have cursed the Defense Against Dark Arts position?'

Fraudaire refused to back down. 'I think it is a rather important question.'

'It would be rather detrimental if I were part of both the Order of the Phoenix and a Death Eater, wouldn't you agree?'

She remained unimpressed with his sarcasm. 'I'm waiting.'

'My, you are certainly persistent in your idiocy. The answer is no.'

Victoria scowled. 'Prove it. Roll up your sleeve.'

He sighed theatrically and tossed the ledger on the desk. Pushing up the sleeve of his robes and unbuttoning the cuff of the shirtsleeve underneath, he drawled, 'I hate to disappoint you, Victoria, but this is going to be rather anti-climatic.' He then rolled up his right sleeve.

Four long, jagged scars ran from his elbow to his wrist, but there was no Dark Mark on the pale skin of his forearm.

'But-but... I thought-' Victoria blinked at him in befuddlement for a moment before she snatched her bottle and drained it in a well-practised motion.

Severus deftly buttoned his cuff and withdrew a slip of parchment from his robes which he placed on her cluttered desk. 'If any of the individuals on that list buy or sell anything I am to be informed immediately.'

And with that he swept out of the storeroom, leaving her sputtering in his wake. As he shut the door he allowed a wide smirk to spread across his face. That had worked out far better than he had expected. He sidestepped the crup-

Crack! Fraudaire had Apparated before the front door, her expression one of unmitigated triumph. 'Nice try, Severus. Let's do this properly shall we, with the right arm, that is the left.'

When he made no move to comply, Fraudaire nodded in satisfaction. 'So, that makes you a rather sorry Order member, donnit?'

He expected her to press him, demand to know whether he was a spy or a turncoat, but for once she managed to hold her curiosity in check.

'We 'ave a saying 'ere, in Knockturn Alley,' she said slowly, "when times are good, business is bad and when times are bad, business is good.'" Victoria's proverbs were more often than not her own creation, but that did not make them any less true.

'And how is business?' he asked.

Victoria smiled bravely, but the worry in her eyes still shone through. 'Business is the best it 'as ever been.'