This is to R.R.R. You know who you are.
Oh, by the way, it was Fred and George who got me hooked on my toys – they heard a rumor and sent me a few…lovely prototypes…
But let me put this straight. I am not a sex addict! Nothing ever seems to satisfy me, is all. The only thing that lasts is the sight of blood.
Which is why, as I sit down in front of the fire in my room (What can I say? Potter's training gives him special privileges!) I am staring at the reflected light from Her.
She's exquisite, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. She has detailing so precise, it's hard to tell where the words end and the snake-like runes begin.
"Wishing and waiting - crimson yearning, full of passions I am burning. Naught but life can help me live, to my soul I'll freely give."
Her blade is made of what the dwarves call mithril, a metal that looks like silver but is indestructible and holds a sharp edge indefinitely.
Potter certainly drew a bunch of looks as he turned off Diagon Ally onto Knockturn. As soon as he stepped in, I put a glamour on myself, looking more like Tom's 16-year-old memory. Still, by the time I got to Borgin and Burke's, the shield Snape put on me was warm and gave a slight glow.
When I entered the shop I took off the glamour and wandered around as Potter, ignoring the looks from the shopkeep. After looking around and finding nothing that caught my attention, I went up to the counter, trying not to seem like a Malfoy…too much.
"I noticed you have very little in the way of knives, daggers and blades. Do you, perhaps, have a…larger selection in back?" The shopkeep sneered at me, and I couldn't help not liking him. However, I slid ten Galleons across the counter.
"Ah, well. I just hoped I'd be able to speak to Mr. Borgin himself…" I shrugged and headed for the door. A hand reached out to catch my arm when I touched the doorknob, but I had both wands pointed at the man before I could think. The man didn't look phased.
"You told Stephen you were looking for me, Mr. Potter?" I lowered my wands and gave a small bow from the waist.
"Yes, Mr. Borgin. I know for a fact that what you have displayed isn't the extent of your supplies. I'm willing to pay well for a bit of time looking at the rest of your blades and daggers."
Mr. Borgin just looked at me for a few seconds, then nodded. "Alright. Follow me, Mr. Potter."
"Please Mr. Borgin, lets not stand on formalities. Just call me Absolom – I hate the name Harry Potter."
Mr. Borgin led me behind the counter, then kicked aside a rug revealing a trap door (oh, that is just so original) and lead me down, shooing off the now over-eager Stephen. I found out I was right – before I had only been guessing as to how much was hidden in the store, based on what I remembered from before my second year. The store above was only a preview! I thought I'd like to come back, and must have said so for Mr. Borgin said, "Perhaps, Absolom. Perhaps."
He led me to a room full of broadswords, rapiers, sabers, daggers, halberds, and many more sharp-edged weapons I didn't know the proper names to. As I wandered, Mr. Borgin ("Bernard, please, if were not standing on formalities.") exchanged small talk.
"So, why has Dumbledore let his savior out of the safety of the school?" I looked up sharply, but saw no sarcasm on his face, so I returned to my browsing.
"Because I needed extra defenses."
"Oh? I hardly see any Aurors."
"Let's just say that I'm not armed as lightly as some think." This made Bernard smile a little.
"Ah, yes...now I remember – your second wand."
"Perhaps." I stopped in front of a 5ft metal pole that had sharp blades on the ends. Bernard noticed my interest.
"That's a modified bo-staff. An almost dead art form these days, I'm afraid."
"Too bad, it looks like something I'd like to…learn…some…time…" My hand was resting on the scabbard of a dagger. I picked Her up, examining. "Bernard? I've found her." The shopkeep was at my side in an instant, looking at Her with me.
"Strange. Everyone else seems to be shocked or burnt by her if they even brush against. She's only one of two made, I was told, when she was brought in oh, at least twenty or so years ago. If she chose you, you can keep her. A present in the hopes of a profitable business relationship."
"Bernard, I can't just take Her. At least let me pay what you did." In the end, after about teen minutes more and a promise to come back soon to share some stories, a glamoured Harry Potter made his way back to Diagon Alley.