Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta

Chapter 4.

John Shorthals, aka the Crab Man ran a petty criminal network out of Knockturn Alley. No one really knew how he got into the racket or how he obtained the moniker of Crab Man for that matter. He was scarred from head to toe, which added fuel to rumors that he was locked into a large crab cage when he was very young. He'd grown up as a fishmonger and others said the scars occurred after falling into a fish net hanging from the back of a boat. Because of all the time he spent on the docks and wharfs around London he became, at a young age, aware of many illegalities in the form of contraband that flowed in and out of the city like a heartbeat. The Crab Man could be called a wizard, but not in the sense of being educated at Hogwarts and having a refined possession of magical abilities. No, John had grown up along the wharfs and finally into a life of all things with a criminal flair. Regardless of his humble background, there was almost nothing going on illegally around the city the Crab Man didn't know about.

The Ministry was known to occasionally turn it's head away from matters of small crime. There was a couple reasons for that. One: there was not enough manpower to handle every small case. Two: it gave the Ministry a way to buy favors. Or in this case, to buy the truth. If the Ministry turned it's attention away from small-time illegalities that John might be involved in, then Harry might be able to buy some information on Penny's stalker, and Jerry's killer. Her next concert was coming up in a few days and he desperately needed information of some kind.

There was Mundungas at the entry to Knockturn Alley – just as he had promised. The little wizard was glancing around as nervous as a totty in church. A clear trademark of his profession. Harry and Mundungas' relationship over the last year rested on a delicate balance. They both knew Mundungas had taken things from Grimmauld Place after Sirius was killed and Harry was very unhappy about it. Harry had done his best to overlook it, if and only, if Mundungas cooperated with the Ministry when needed. Harry was quickly on his way to becoming one of the most dangerous and powerful Aurors to come down the pike in a millennia and Dung knew he made a major mistake when he pissed on him the way he did.

"Thanks Dung – didn't expect you so early."

"Neither did I Harry. The Crab Man must be eager to see you," he said with a wry smile.

Harry nodded. "Can't imagine why, but I hope he's got news."

Pushing through a small crowd of cackling witches they made their way to the entrance to Knockturn Alley.

"We've got a fair walk – he's all the way in the back," Mundungas said and motioned to the end of the alley.

They weren't in the alley yet and already the smell of filth was wafting in their direction. Rot permeated every plank and brick and cobblestone along the way. Unknown filth ran down the gutters of both side of the stone alley.

"Well, you didn't expect him to be right in the open, did you?" quipped Harry.

"No – of course not, and it's not likely he'll be in the same place tomorrow," Mundungas said as he peeped curiously into a shop window. Following the twisting wind and carefully watching their step, the two approached Borgin and Burkes around a shop corner. Two men were standing in the doorway and having a heated discussion until they turned to see Harry. The conversation ended in mid-sentence as they disappeared into the shop. The shops were getting smaller and shabbier and the windows darker with grime as they moved deeper into the alley. There were very few signs of business or anything legitimate going on, in this remote end.

"It's not far Harry – just up ahead," Mundungas announced.

"Good," Harry added in a sullen tone.

The overhang of rooftops were beginning to obscure almost all of the visible daylight. And as the alley grew more narrow the air grew more stagnant and dank.

"This is it – right through here," Mundungas said and opened a badly weathered and squeaking door.

Mundungas entered through the shabby door of a weather beaten shack and looked back to make sure Harry was following. Harry wondered if this was the right place. As they entered the shack, a small interior opened to a long hall that stretched on dis-accordingly with the environment. A small lantern of some kind was burning at the end of the hall as it fought bravely against the blackness.

"It's a hidden extensibility charm," Mundungas said with a grin.

"Great – how much further?"

"Not too far – just a little more," he answered with an encouraging voice that failed to convince.

They continued until at last the lantern began to grow bigger. At the end of the hall, which had felt a hundred paces long, they stood in front of another door. The smell had changed from the normal stench to one that resembled something closer to a waterway. Yes, it was quite fishy. Mundungas pushed open the door to an open area flooded with natural light. They had entered a floored compartment underneath a long wharf adjoining a narrow inlet waterway. There were ropes and lines scattered everywhere upon a clapboard floor. The gentle waves below were breaking against support pylons with rhythmical cadence. Stepping over piles of ropes coiled in figure eights and moving around old barrels with missing staves, they made their way toward a door. At the end of the wharf they had to lift a wet fishing net, suspended by two heavy pegs and fanned out at the bottom, hanging to dry. Mundungas cracked open the door, peered in, and motioned for Harry to wait. Mundungas entered the room and popped back out a few moments later.

"He wants to know if you'll let me hold your wand?" Mundungas asked sheepishly.

Harry smiled at the expression on Dung's face. "Of course not – you know an Auror never gives up his wand," Harry replied.

Mundungas nodded a as if embarrassed by the question. He disappeared behind the door, taking longer this time, and finally popped back out.

"Okay, they're ready for you. They're just being careful – that's all," he said, apologetically.

Harry followed Mundungas into what appeared to be another small room, only to be fooled by another hidden extensibility charm. They trudged down another dimly lit hall with Mundungas looking back every few steps to glance at Harry. With his hand around another door knob, Mundungas paused and turned to face Harry.

"Okay, we're here."

"How'd you manage to get in and back out so fast?" Harry asked.

"Well, it wasn't extended the first time."

Mundungas swung the weathered and squeaky door open and the pair finally came face to face with the Crab Man. He was sitting at a longish table with what appeared to be two guards at his sides. The guards were both tall and gaunt and just as shabbily dressed as the Crab Man. But both had clear eyes and looked plenty alert enough for the job. Casually, the Crab Man motioned for Harry to have a seat.

"Hello John," Harry greeted the wizard formally.

"Good day Mister Potter. You'll forgive me if I don't rise, but this aching back is giving me fits."

"That's quite alright," Harry said and pulled the wooden chair away from the table. The two guards were watching him carefully as he took a seat, facing the Crab Man.

"We're not used to receiving guests Mister Potter. So what brings you my way today?" he asked with steel grey eyes that resembled ball bearings. The face was long and cracked and weathered by age with much exposure to the elements. The scars, if you could call them that, were mostly invisible now and hidden by all the wrinkles. The head, with the addition of small cauliflower ears, was devoid of hair, which could have been from natural balding or the much earlier effects of scaring.

"I'm after some information," Harry informed the wizard.

"I see. And what do you have to offer – for this information?" the wizard asked with furrowed brows.

John wasn't wasting any time. He wanted to know exactly what Harry had to offer him in exchange. He leaned back with arms crossed waiting for an answer and wearing an oily weatherproof leather jacket that was just as slick as the top of his head.

"A favor – we can offer you a favor," Harry said.

"What kind of favor?"

Harry contemplated John's invitation before speaking.

"We know you have a sweet deal with South Lines Transports," he said at length. "Illegal Asian imports of fake Rolex and Louis Vuitton. We could stop that at any time, but we haven't," he said as calmly as if the favor had already been granted.

"Now that you've told me, we could move to another shipping lines," John added with a wry grin. "And then we wouldn't have to tell you anything."

Harry frowned at the answer and quickly uncrossed his knee. One of the guards jumped nervously and then everyone froze.

John Laughed. "He's a little nervous – since you didn't let us disarm you," John explained.

"An Auror never gives up his wand," Harry said. "So what kind of favor would you require?"

"First Mister Potter, give us a little more detail as to what information you require," the Crab Man said as if he were explaining to a child. At that moment, an old and ragged woman in a tattered and patched woolen frock hobbled into the room, cradling a black cast iron pot in a wicker basket. She sat the pot on the table and reached into a pocket buried in the layers of clothing and produced a small plate and silverware. John quickly took out a handkerchief and placed it on the table for the silverware.

"I'm looking for a wizard or wizards that killed a Ministry Auror and severely injured another," Harry spit out the reply.

"I see," he said. "May I offer you and Mundungas some baked eel. Gladys here, fixes delicious baked eel?" he said and smiled a toothless smile.

"No thanks," Harry and Mundungas chorused.

John nodded and then removed the lid and dug out several sections of black eel onto his plate.

"So this wizard and your Aurors – they tangled somewhere?" John asked and delicately forked a section of black eel into his toothless mouth with the precision of a connoisseur. The fork hung motionless in his hand for a few moments as he looked heavenward to savour the eel.

"Yes, they did," Harry replied. John looked puzzled while gumming the eels. Trickles of dark goo seeped from the corners of his mouth.

"Come on man," he said after swallowing the mouthful. "You can tell me more than that."

"The Aurors were investigating complaints from Penny Penthane," He said reluctantly. "Her band's in London now."

Harry wondered if John could have any idea who Penny was. And he wondered if he just made a mistake by mentioning her name. John took the handkerchief off the table and dried the corners of his mouth and then curled one up into a wry grin.

"I see – okay, we can agree on a deal I think," he said and looked at Harry through the steely eyes.

"A deal?" Harry asked wide-eyed anticipation.

"I'll take your offer of silence on South Lines Transports – and I'll tell you what I know," he said and dug a few more pieces of eel out of the pot and on to his plate.

"Okay, it's a deal then," Harry said.

"I warn you – it's not much," John added and he pointed the fork emphatically.

"What do you have?"

"We kept a close tail on this man until you ran him out of the Leaky Cauldron," John said with a sly grin.

"That was the wizard!?"

"Yes."

"So you had him followed – why?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Like you I guess – this wizard took out three of our own. And my recommendation to you Mister Potter would be this – let sleeping dogs lie," John said, nodding.

"Well, I can't do that. And if I may ask, why did these men confront the wizard?" Harry asked.

"This Penthane you mentioned?"

"Yeah..."

"Apparently she had some problems with this wizard," John said and Harry nodded. "She hired these men to get rid of him."

"And it didn't go so well?" Harry asked and raised a brow.

"No, we never saw them again," he said with a glistening reflection in his steely eyes. "A real shame – they were all good men," he added with a frown.

Harry nodded and thought about what John said. He now wanted the wizard more than ever. The fingertips of his left hand began to tingle in anticipation.

"Well, thanks for the tip," he said and looked toward Mundungas.

"Thank you Mister Potter – you'll be going after this man I suspect?"

"Yes. I have a few tricks you don't know about," he added.

"We know you carry an extra wand – and I still advise you to leave this man alone," John said as a last warning.

Thinking they might never smell fresh air again they finally made their way out of Knockturn Alley and into a fresher breeze. With this new information, talking to Hannah's would be his first order of business. He could buy Mundungas a beer some other time. The news John gave was a mixed bag. The good part was that he knew what the wizard looked like. The part he found troubling was the part Penny never mentioned. If he was to work with her, there could be no secrets between them concerning the business at hand.

Tapping the bricks in an anti-clockwise pattern, the opening to the Leaky Cauldron began to appear in a clicking and clattering of dancing bricks. Quickly stepping through the yard, he made his way into the rear of the Leaky Cauldron and paused for a few moments to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light. He was an Auror and all Aurors had the occasional enemy. It paid to keep your eyes open and use caution before entering a dimly lit room.

Charlie was waiting on a table in the front. Scanning around for the straw colored hair, a soft voice called out behind him.

"Harry..."

Hannah's warm smile was a welcome as she entered the pub with a towel from the adjoining stockroom.

"Hannah," he said as he turned to face the dishwater blonde witch. "Got a minute?" he asked taking a seat at the end of the bar that gave him a view of the dining area.

"Sure – what's up?" she said, taking the stool beside him. "You look like you need a beer."

"You're not far from wrong."

"Charlie – a beer over here please," she said and turned her attention back to Harry. "What happened to you the other night?" she asked with an impish grin.

He bit his lip and moved past the question. "Got some rather nasty news," he said and looked her in the eye. By this time Charlie returned with the beer. Hannah was all ears. "We've lost an Auror and Ron's was hurt badly," he said and Hannah clapped her hand to her chest.

"Oh Harry – how?"

"Well oddly enough – it may have been your stranger," he said and her jaw dropped.

"How is that possible? Is that possible?"

Harry just shook his head and then took a swig from the mug. Hannah glanced away, reflecting. Her nails, freshly painted with clear nail varnish, clicked on the bar nervously.

"Well, Ron. How bad is it?" she asked, obviously shaken.

"Bad, but apparently Hippocrates has found a remedy of some kind," he said with a little nod.

"That's good. But still, this whole thing – is so scary. So, are you..." she asked and Harry nodded. Hannah swallowed hard. "Yeah, it's what I do Hannah," he said and turned up the mug.

"For God's sake be careful Harry," she said and looked at him with darting blue eyes.

"He hasn't been back has he?"

"Oh no. Haven't seen anything of him."

"Well listen, don't worry about it. He must have got the jump on them somehow, and besides, now I know what he looks like," he said, trying to be upbeat.

"Well how did you know it was him that did it?" she asked and raised a brow.

"It's a long story and we're not a hundred percent sure – not yet."

"So really, don't worry about it," he said and patted her hand resting on the bar. "So how's business – better?"

She nodded a little animated nod. "Yeah, it's been alright."

"Charlie – is he working out?"

"He's doing pretty good – yeah," she said and looked puzzled by the questions.

"Good," he said and thought about his plans. The incident with Jerry and Ron had cast a dark shadow over his mood and he had thought of putting off the the idea of asking her to dinner. Still, the edgy feeling he had wouldn't go away and if anything it felt worse now. Maybe it was best to live life while you had one.

"I'll be working over the weekend," he said and paused. "But I owe you a meal," he said with a little bow of gratitude. "I was thinking – could you go for dinner – say... Thursday or Friday?"

Hannah briefly smiled at the question, but blue darting eyes betrayed her thoughts. She started to speak and then paused, leaving the answer floating in mid-air like a butterfly with sore feet.

"Sorry, but I have to close up," she finally said and Harry nodded solemnly.

I guess she didn't care for my crack about avoiding relationships – oh well, good try old man.

"You see, I'd like to – but I promised Charlie he could have nights off this week," she said, apologetically. "Can I get a rain check?"

His heart lifted and then fell. He'd have to follow Penny's band after the weekend.

"Sure, but I'll be out of town after this weekend."

"Don't worry – I can wait," she said and cupped her left hand over his.

The canteen had just opened when Harry arrived for his morning cup of java. Quickly dressing the coffee he made his way through deserted marble halls toward the lifts. Thinking the crosswords would have to wait, he entered the lift and instructed the sleepy headed lift attendant to stop at Kingsley's office.

Passing under the gilded archway, Tracy Tolley was standing beside her desk and straightening her violet colored robes. The blonde head snapped around when she heard him.

"Morning..." came the response from the cute witch. She looked surprised.

"Good morning Tracy – is Kingsley in?"

"Well, of course Harry. He's with someone – but I'll tell him you're here," she said and disappeared into the hall leading to the large padded door. At some point in time, before Tracy had taken over the job of receptionist, the little teleprompter Quixwood invented was discarded in favor of a simpler means of communication. It seems the little bolt of electro-magical energy it created missed the hole at the top of the wall and arced over into a pile of papers. The ensuing fire it started was enough for Kingsley to rip out the whole contraption on both ends.

He took a seat in the waiting area and busied himself, looking through a copy of Witch Weekly.

The sound of muffled voices could be heard through the partially opened door. Tracy's heels could be heard clattering back toward her desk.

"He'll be available in a few minutes," she said and gave him a professional smile as she went over to the filing cabinet and took out a manilla folder big enough for A4 paper sizes. Thumbing through the contents, she shut the drawer with a little shove of her hips and returned to her desk.

He'd just finished an article on wizarding and Muggle residential areas around the city when the heavy padded door swung open with the unmistakeable sound of hinges straining.

Again footsteps, but heavier this time, were rudely breaking the silence of a quiet morning. Kingsley poked his head around the corner and motioned with a forefinger for Harry to follow. Curiously, Kingsley wanted him to join the party. He entered the warm wood paneled room and noticed black heels and shapely legs in slick navy blue hosiery were visible from the side of the huge leather chair in front of Kingsley's desk. A brown-haired head peeped around the side of the chair.

"Hello Harry."

"Morning Hermione!" Immediately, he guessed she was talking to Kingsley about the transfer. Kingsley moved another chair to the front of his desk.

"Hermione will be returning to Magical Law enforcement," Kingsley said. "for a length of time as she sees fit," he said with a smile.

"That's great news – welcome back Hermione," congratulated Harry.

"Well thanks Harry," she said with a wry smile.

"Yes, it's good news," Kingsley injected. "And not a minute too soon. Harry did you talk to the Crab Man?"

"Yes sir, I did."

"So how'd it go – did you get anything out of him?"

"Well, if what the Crab Man said is true – I've already seen this wizard."

"Merlin's Beard!" Kingsley exclaimed. "How is that possible?"

"Well, you know Hannah Abbot that took over the Leaky Cauldron when old Tom left?" he asked and Kingsley nodded.

"Sure..."

"She sent a note last week. It arrived the same morning Ron mentioned the assignment with Penny Penthane. In the note, Hannah said there was a creepy wizard hanging about the pub. And she requested help," Harry said and took a drink of cold coffee.

"And you went – did you file a report?" Kingsley asked.

"Well, no sir it was after work and I thought it was probably something small."

"After work – Harry you do crosswords all day – okay, go on."

"So, I get down there and find the man. He's still there. And I walk up to the table – he's a cool character alright. I tell him there's been complaints and ask him to leave. He asks me who I am and all that, then he makes a cute play by reaching inside his cloak – an old coarsely woven cloak," he says and reaches for another drink of cold coffee. Hermione and Kingsley are waiting, wide-eyed.

"I snap out a wand on him before the hand gets inside the cloak. He laughs at this and pulls out a Galleon and drops it on the table. And, he says goodnight and leaves," Harry said and rolled his shoulders into a shrug.

Kingsley looks suspiciously at Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Okay, so how does John figure into this?" he demanded.

Harry considered the question. Should he tell Kingsley the whole story?

"Apparently, they lost three men to this wizard as well. They were keeping an eye on him the same night I ran him out of the leaky Cauldron," Harry said calmly.

"Lost three men – how?" Kingsley asked.

Harry scratched his head. "They got into a scrap of some kind," he said convincingly.

"Yes, that's obvious Harry, but how does Penny figure into all this?" asked Hermione.

Harry paused before coughing up the rest. "He claims Penny Penthane hired them to get rid of the stalker."

"Did she tell you this?"

"No, she didn't."

"You need to get some firm answers on this," Kingsley said shaking his head. "Firm answers Harry."

"Yes sir, I'll make sure she explains it," he said, drawing a smile from Hermione.

"Yeah, that doesn't sound good Harry – she should have told you," Hermione said, glaring cautiously.

"Yeah, don't worry. I'll make her explain it," he said with solid resolution.

"Very good then," Kingsley added and slapped the desk.

"Harry, you're still training on a regular basis with Beollan?"

"Every week sir."

"Good. Hermione we'll have to get you involved in this as well. You were way overdue for self-defense training before you left," he scolded and pointed the pipe stem for emphasis.

"Yes sir, I understood that was part of the deal."

"Good – good. We'll try and make it up to you. They're cleaning up your new office now."

"That's good to hear," she said and looked at Harry with a curt grin.

"So, Harry," Kingsley announced. "I know we don't provide bodyguards, but maybe you better go along with Penny's band. If you can get away from those crosswords?"

"I think I can," Harry said facetiously.

"Good – but be careful. We still don't know what we're dealing with."

"Yes, sir," he said, rising from the chair.

Hermione also started also to rise.

"Hermione – just a minute. A couple of things I'd like to discuss."

Harry left the room, wondering what else Kingsley needed to discuss.

A/N: The story started rather slow, but I can see the numbers growing. I know it's hard to get too excited about a suspenseful story when the chapters trickle out every two weeks.

Thanks for reading and remember to review.