One Day at a Time

Dunkel and Finster's

There was definitely something odd about my classes the next day. When I walked into the classroom there was not the normal chatter of students, but instead what seemed like furtive whispers, and even these disappeared as soon as I stepped through the door. Even the normal background noise that exists during any class period had disappeared. I would have been ecstatic that my students were being so well-behaved and not talking, were it not for the scrutinizing glances that many of them were giving me out of the corner of their eyes. It was a very disconcerting feeling, and I couldn't possibly think of why their behavior might have changed, unless I was simply imagining it. All of my classes for the day acted in exactly the same manner, and by the end of the day I was rather frustrated and almost creeped out; it felt as though I was missing something terribly obvious which the rest of the world had been informed of, like it was Must-Walk-On-Eggshells-Around-Your-Professors Day or something. I decided to visit Hagrid to see if he had heard something, and when I arrived, Harry, Hermione and Ron were already seated at the table in his hut. They suddenly became rather quiet and gave me hesitant, almost nervous glances.

"Hagrid, and this question goes for you three, too," I nodded towards the trio of students and politely asked, "Do you know why the entire student body has been walking on tiptoe today? Students keep looking at me like I've sprouted a pair of horns and haven't noticed it yet." As soon as I finished speaking, all four people in the room awkwardly looked away in a forced casual manner.

Finally Hermione bravely broke the silence and said, "Professor, do you read the Daily Prophet?"

"No…" I said slowly, with a sinking feeling in my stomach. What on earth could the newspaper have printed to make the entire student body act differently towards me?

"Uh, here yer go," Hagrid grabbed the newspaper from his kitchen counter and handed it to me. "Bottom left corner of the front page."

I frowned as my eyes scanned in that direction and my mouth silently made the shape of an "O" even before I started reading the article. The title, in a bold black font read: "Death Eaters Escape Aurors Again" and directly under the text there was a photo of Seginus and one of Matar.

Four Death Eaters attacked Wilson's Wand Emporium in Birmingham yesterday, May 4th, I read. It is believed that their goal was to kidnap Wilmur Wilson the wandmaker. Wilson, however, was able to fight against them long enough for Aurors to be called and maintain the dual. In the struggle that ensued, two Aurors and Wilson himself were killed, and two of the Death Eaters were unmasked. After Wilson's death, the four Death Eaters apparated away, but not before the two unmasked ones were identified as Seginus Colburn and Matar Colburn. Seginus and Matar Colburn were captured and arrested after a Death Eater attack in 1980. They were charged with disrupting the public peace, spreading mayhem and using Unforgivables on Aurors. Both Colburns were given life sentences in Azkaban but escaped in the mass prison break approximately a year ago. Any information that might aid in their capture should immediately be reported to the Ministry of Magic. It is noted that their brother Tarazet Colburn is also a former Azkaban prisoner and suspected Death Eater.

I stared at the article for a long time, even once I had finished reading it. My mind struggled to think what I could possibly say. I couldn't exactly deny that Seginus and Matar were Death Eaters or plead ignorance. It angered me that The Daily Prophet made it sound like Tarazet was also an escaped Death Eater, not only because I had been publically seen associating with him, but because I was sure it was going to make life more difficult for him. Finally, after attempting some organization of my thoughts, I decided on the most prudent course of action: I vehemently threw down the newspaper and angrily said "Seginus and Matar deserve to rot in Azkaban. It's a downright shame they weren't caught." Let's just ignore that I could have sent them to Azkaban myself when I dueled them, I thought. I continued aloud, "That's libel what they're saying about Tarazet, though. He's a counterfeiter, not a Death Eater." Some of the tension seemed to drain out of the room, as though everybody had exhaled a silent sigh. I looked at the trio of sixth years and innocently asked, "Surely the students don't think that I share Seginus's and Matar's beliefs and affiliations?"

"I don't think they do," Harry said slowly. "I think most just find it shocking that a professor like you is related to people like them."

I mentally breathed a sigh of relief. I did not want to have to try and change the beliefs of the entire student body; if it was simple surprise they were suffering from, then it would blow over on its own within a week.

"They were arrested in 1980?" Ron said quizzically, looking at the paper again. "That was before the end of the First War, right?"

I nodded. "There was a rash of arrests once the war ended in 1981, but there were still some arrests earlier than that, during the actual war. I remember they were arrested in January of my Seventh Year, so, yes, that would have been 1980." I almost shuddered as I remembered picking up The Daily Prophet that winter day. The headline announced, in screamingly large font, the arrest of several Death Eaters, and beneath it there had been photos of my two brothers and several other captured men. My friend Paige, whose Muggle parents had been killed by Death Eaters, immediately informed me that she was never going to talk to me again, and all of my acquaintances had likewise distanced themselves from me. Excluding visits from Tarazet, my Seventh Year had been rather lonely. Tarazet, my mind thought suddenly. I had been planning to visit him at his job another week, when I did not have so many papers to grade, but I realized that I should probably see him sooner than later; I was sure that he was going to be absolutely furious about The Daily Prophet's article.

At noon the next day I apparated to Knockturn Alley. If Diagon Alley was quieter than usual out of a fear of Death Eater attacks, Knockturn Alley was quieter than usual out of a fear of being thought a Death Eater for associating with Dark Magic. The few people briskly walking the streets wore heavy cloaks with hoods drawn forward to hide their faces, even though it was a rather warm May day.

Despite its reputation, Knockturn Alley did have a fair number of stores that were not dedicated to Dark Magic, even if their target audiences were still wealthy pureblood families. One such store sold gear for hunting Magical creatures, a very old pureblood past time. Even if hunting dragons and chimeras was illegal, it was still done because it showed that your family was extravagantly wealthy. The equipment, traveling expenses, and bribes to the necessary ministry officials added up to quite the glittering galleon. Next to the hunting gear store was an art studio displaying darkly colored still-lifes, regal looking portraits and landscapes whose skies changed color to match the time of day. A small advertisement on the window announced, "Our highly skilled artists will also paint your or your family's portrait. We guarantee that the personality of those in the painting will exactly match yours'. Inquire for price inside."

I continued strolling down the unevenly cobblestoned street before reaching a very tall yet narrow store whose sign said in worn letters "Dunkel and Finster's". The windows displayed everyday objects--quills, tea kettles, hats, books—and by each object there was a small note card explaining the seemingly ordinary item's enchantment. I stepped into the store, which had endless rows of high shelves stacked with more of the types of objects that I had seen in the window display. I could hear voices echoing from the back of the store, and I started walking towards them.

"Well if you don't think it's possible, clearly it's because you're not trying hard enough," a haughty voice came.

"I'm simply stating what I believe to be a fact," my brother's restrained, forcibly polite voice said. "As I have told you, the spell caster will be in tomorrow. Perhaps you will do better to ask his opinion."

"I most certainly will," the other man angrily snapped. "I will also inform him that he has an incompetent employ who he would be better off firing."

I reached the clearing in the back of the store, where my youngest brother was standing at the cashier's table. He had an annoyed look on his face, but the blond-haired customer standing across from him looked absolutely livid.

"Draco," I exclaimed, surprised to see one of my students.

He whirled towards me, his eyes like saucers and the little color completely draining from his pale face. "P-Professor Colburn."

"What are you doing outside of Hogwarts?" I said coldly, trying to look as imposing and professorly as I could.

"I—I—nothing," he worriedly looked at Tarazet, who was, for his part, regarding our exchange with an almost amused look on his face.

"Odd that you willfully defy a school rule for 'nothing'," I was carefully studying his facial expression.

He seemed to have regained some of his Malfoy composition, for he defiantly replied, "And why shouldn't I be allowed off of Hogwarts grounds during the lunch period?"

"Because you're a student. Have you forgotten that you need permission to visit Hogsmeade, which is a good deal closer than Knockturn Alley? Besides, you're underage," I iterated the variety of ways in which he was breaking the rule.

He annoyingly stuck his nose up in the air. "I'll be of age in less than a month. And what are you doing here, anyway?"

"I am a professor. I am free to leave Hogwarts' grounds as I please," I coldly stated, not appreciating the threatening tone he had used for the last question. "Look, Draco, you're not a child, and I'm not going to treat you as one. I'm going to trust you to return to Hogwarts on your own right now, but don't think you're going to avoid punishment. I'll be talking to the Head of Slytherin."

"Fine," he grumpily strode out of the store.

Tarazet waited until the door slammed shut before he broke into a golf clap and grinned, "Excellent job, professor. The look on his face when you showed up was priceless. Remind me to never cross your path if I'm one of your students."

I smiled at the confidence booster, and replied, "You have your lunch break now, right?"

"Yes, it started ten minutes ago; that twat spilled over into it," we started walking towards the front of the store.

"What was he here for?" I asked curious. I was sure the understood policy of customer confidentiality that extended through most of Knockturn Alley wouldn't keep him from telling me, his sister.

"Well first Malfoy barged in, demanding to see the primary spell caster. I informed him that today was the spell caster's day off, and that he would have to return tomorrow," my brother started the story while we walked towards Diagon Alley. "Malfoy seemed rather aggravated by this, and I told him that I could serve as a consultant, even if he'd have to return to have the item itself charmed. This seemed to annoy him, too, but finally he relented and said that he wanted to know if it was possible to use a primary charm which would activate a secondary charm only if a certain set of requirements were met. 'Well, what sort of requirements?' I said, and I was finally able to drag it out of him that he wanted the charm to be activated only if one specific person touched the object. 'It depends on the secondary charm,' I told him, but he absolutely refused to say what he wanted the secondary charm to be. Malfoy just kept stubbornly asking if the primary charm, the activation charm, could be that specific. I was completely taking a shot in the dark without knowing the secondary charm, but I replied that it could be possible if a recognition charm was used as the activation charm. For that, though, he'd have to bring in the person he wanted along with the object. Malfoy was absolutely horrified by this, and he exploded, 'No! The activation charm has to be cast without his knowledge. He can't come in.' At this point I'm really wondering what sort of charm he wants the activation charm to activate—it sounds downright dangerous, or something—but I don't say anything about that. I just tell Malfoy that I know a person-specific activation charm without using the person is definitely not possible. He becomes absolutely furious and splutters some gibberish about me not trying hard enough, and how he's going to have me fired. That's about when you came in, Liseli."

"Hm," I said pensively, searching my mind for what type of charm Draco could possibly want to be activated. My mind came up blank, though: I had no clue for what he would want a cursed object. Going to a store like Dunkel and Finster's seemed far too elaborate for a simple school prank or grudge. "Well, I'll tell Severus. He might have ideas, for Draco's punishment, if nothing else." I paused and noticed that my brother was suddenly veering towards the opposite side of street. Questioningly, I followed the direction of his nervous steps and was about to ask what he was doing when I looked at the side of the street we had just crossed away from. I almost burst out laughing: he was avoiding walking directly in front of Gringott's. "The goblins really look on you that disfavorably?"

"They take great pride in the uniqueness of the money they create," Tarazet said with pursed lips. "I doubt they would actually attack me, but I'd rather not push my luck by showing my face. Goblins are notorious for remembering people who have angered or offended them."

The reminder of my brother's counterfeiting activities caused me to remember yesterday's article in The Daily Prophet with a jolt. On the one hand, if he had already read it, I didn't want to bring up a sore subject. On the other hand, if he hadn't seen it, it was important for him to know about it. "Tarazet," I started hesitatingly. "Did you see the front page of yesterday's The Daily Prophet?"

His face visibly darkened and I immediately regretted mentioning it. "I spent an hour trying to convince my employer to not fire me because of that libelous rag. That article made it sound like I was an escaped prisoner on par with Seginus and Matar. Never mind that there's not a scrap of legal evidence to support the accusation that I'm a Death Eater, never mind that I was cleared of all charges," he glowered. "I'm surprised they didn't put a 'Wanted' picture of me right next to Seginus's and Matar's; that would have been more like the Ministry's form of justice."

"The Ministry doesn't write The Daily Prophet," I pointed out, feeling almost guilty that I had been comparatively unaffected by the article. "It'll probably blow over."

"It better," he said bitterly. "I don't want to have to go around for the rest of my life introducing myself as 'Hello, I'm Tarazet Colburn, and by the way, The Daily Prophet is a lying piece of trash.'"

…

A/N: Sorry if the chapter break isn't the best; the chapter as I wrote it was way too long so I had to break it somewhere. On a different note, thanks to grumpirah, Mark Darcy, angelofire, gothic flower, Snape Snape Severus Snape, tibys, and PollyWantCookie for reviewing!! And thank you to everyone for being so patient between chapters :))