Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 23

Down the Rabbit Hole

Knockturn Alley was dark and narrow; the tall buildings on either side blocked out most of the watery British sunlight. It was cooler than home, but Harry and Dudley both felt right at home instantly. In many ways, it was very reminiscent of a Roanapur alleyway.

Hermione was less reassured. She clearly found the ambience sinister and threatening, and she tended to stay between the two boys as they walked down the alley. "Don't act scared, Hermione. People in places like this can home in on that sort of thing like a vulture on a corpse," Harry muttered. She nodded, and made a visible effort to throw off the symptoms of fear. Her big dark eyes still flicked around, and her grip on her wand was stronger than it needed to be, but only someone who knew her well would have known that she was still nervous. Outwardly, she was as cool as could be. Harry approved; Roanapur had clearly been good for Hermione's self-confidence. She had had some long, one-on-one talks with Balalaika while she had been there, and Harry wondered what the elegant, cynical Russian crime queen had told his friend.

The people they saw were also familiar, at least at first sight. They all seemed to be on sinister errands of one sort or another, and openly eyed the trio up before visibly deciding to go after easier prey. Harry grinned to himself. As soon as he could, once back in Britain, he had made contact with some of the local criminals who were associates of Hotel Moscow, and they had made sure that he and Dudley both had pistols. Under his shirt, he had a holster with a Makarov pistol. Dudley also had one, but Harry didn't know where his was, just that he had it. The weight was reassuring. Harry knew that neither he nor Dudley was as good as Revy Two-Hands, but they both had been checked out and passed by Balalaika's faithful Sergeant Boris.

On second glance, many of the people they saw weren't so familiar, after all. One man who brushed past them with a growl looked wolf-like enough to make Harry very glad indeed that it wasn't the night of the full moon, and he wasn't the only clearly non-human person they saw. A weird-looking hag carrying a tray of what looked a lot like whole human fingernails stepped into their path.

"What you want, dearies? Care to buy?" Hermione looked at the tray and gulped, but before she could betray their unfamiliarity with Knockturn Alley, Harry stepped forward.

"We're looking for a friend of ours. Blonde girl, about so high? Seen her?"

The hag nodded. "She went by a few minutes ago. She's down that way. Might have gone into Borgin and Burke's." Harry and Dudley both nodded their thanks as they went on past. In Roanapur, it was well to be courteous; even the most unlikely people could bring down retaliation instantly on those who displeased them. Knockturn Alley was likely to be even worse.

"Borgin and Burke's, Borgin and Burke's," muttered Dudley. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"Some of the older Slytherins mentioned it in conversations. Apparently it's a shop, well-known for selling Dark Arts-related stuff." Hermione answered, her voice low as she looked around herself warily.

"Just like the rest of this place," Harry murmured. "Stick close to us, Hermione. I don't doubt your courage, not for one second. But Dudley and I are the ones with years of experience. Frankly, right now I wouldn't mind having Sergeant Boris and some Hotel Moscow men with us!"

"From your mouth to God's ears," Dudley answered, peering into a dirty shop window at a display of objects that were difficult to identify. "Me, I wouldn't say no to having Snape along. At least he could likely identify what a lot of this stuff's for!"

"I want to come back sometime, after I've had a good long look through the Dark Arts collection in the library." Hermione was also looking curiously at some of the things that were for sale. "I can't imagine what anybody would do with these things!"

"There's Borgin and Burke's," Harry pointed. Sure enough, ahead of them, a dirty sign jutted out over the walkway, proclaiming the store's name. Since the alley dead-ended not far past the store, and there was no sign of a young blonde witch, the shop looked like a good place to check out. Harry led the way in, noting that the door had a bell on it that tinkled to let the proprietor know that someone had entered.

Nobody greeted them, and they looked around warily. The shop was bigger than it had seemed from the front, and piles of unidentifiable objects created haphazard aisles going deeper into the back. This place would be a shoplifters' paradise, thought Harry, before remembering that shops run by wizards might well have more ways than one to prevent inventory shrinkage. Stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, he led the way farther in, peering through the dim, rather smoky light. Hermione came behind him, and Dudley took the rear. Instinctively, they stayed close together. The shop did not seem like a very inviting place.

Coming around a corner, Harry's eyes went wide, and he gestured to his friends. Standing there with his back to them was none other than Draco Malfoy, standing beside a tall, elegant-looking man with long white hair. Facing them was a blonde girl that had to be Luna Lovegood. She was staring up at them with protuberant silvery-grey eyes. Harry thought that she didn't seem to blink as often as he would have expected, and wondered if there was something a little off about her.

The tall man…Mr. Malfoy?…was speaking. "What a pretty little girl you are, to be sure," he was purring, leaning over her with his face closer than Harry would have cared for, had it been him. "What delicate features you have. And I see you're beginning to grow up. You're a pureblood, my dear. Have you started wondering who your father will arrange a marriage for you with?"

"My father would never arrange a marriage for me, sir," the girl answered. She didn't seem to be afraid of the man, but she did seem wary. When he reached out for her, she stepped back slightly.

"Oh? Your family believes in…love unions? How terribly quaint!" The tone in the man's voice set Harry's teeth straight on edge. It reminded him uncomfortably of some people in Roanapur…the ones that Aunt Petunia, and Balalaika, and all of the adults he trusted, told him to avoid at all costs. The man went on: "In my day, such a pretty young girl would have had men bidding against each other to be the one her father selected to be her new husband! Of course, some families…" he preened visibly, and Harry fought down an urge to gag… "were considered to be valuable to ally one's family with, for the sake of wealth, or power." The gloating tone in his voice was palpable. "My Draco, of course, has a bride all picked out for him."

"Well, my Daddy isn't interested in wealth or power. He's interested in the truth," said the girl. "He publishes the Quibbler magazine. He wants to expose the seamy underbelly of magical society, and to find the creatures that everybody says don't exist!" She stood her ground, sticking out her chin and giving the tall man stare-for-stare. Harry had to approve of her courage. In her boots, he'd have been backing away and drawing a weapon.

And her words had confirmed her identity. Hermione called out: "Luna! Your father sent us! He wants you back out in Diagon Alley! You've shopping to do yet!" The blonde girl's eyes went wide as she looked past Draco to see Harry, Dudley and Hermione standing there.

"Oh, hullo! Is Daddy worried about me? I've been having the nicest chat with these people! Isn't this place fascinating?" She came forward, pointing to what looked very like a shriveled, dried-up, severed human hand. "I never knew you could buy those on the open market!" Behind her, Draco turned pale to see his housemates, and the tall, white-haired man with him gripped the head of a fancy cane, his lips going tight.

"I'm Hermione Granger, and these are my House mates, Dudley Dursley and Harry Potter. We're all going to be in second year at Hogwarts together. Did you wander away from Ginny?" Hermione drew the blonde girl in closer, and Harry and Dudley automatically moved to cover her, their wands unobtrusively in their hands.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Luna Lovegood. I've just been talking with Mr. Malfoy here." She waved behind her at the Malfoys, heedless of the way that Mr. Malfoy was staring at her. Harry had seen expressions like that before, usually on very hungry people who were looking at food.

"Oh, hello, Draco! Good to see you again! How was your summer? And who's this with you?" To hear Harry, they could have been out on Diagon Alley, or someplace else normal, instead of the depths of Knockturn Alley.

Draco blushed. "My father. Father, I'd like you to meet some of my housemates. Harry Potter's the one with the glasses, and with him is his cousin Dudley Dursley. And, of course, Hermione Granger. Hermione, Harry, and Dudley, this is my father."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy," Harry lied, his voice as smooth as though he had been telling the truth. In Roanapur, being able to conceal one's true feelings was a survival trait. "We hate to interrupt, but Mr. Lovegood's looking for his daughter, so we'd probably best get her back to him."

"And it's a pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Potter, Mr. Dursley, and…Miss Granger," purred Mr. Malfoy. He looked at each of them carefully, and the way he looked at Hermione made Harry shudder. It was like he could see clear through her clothes, and he was checking her over for scars or flaws. Hermione caught it too, and her eyes narrowed.

"We'd love to stay and chat, but we've got to get Luna back to her father. He's worried about her," Harry said, unobtrusively beginning to herd his friends, and Luna, back toward the door. "See you up at Hogwarts, Draco!"

"And do keep in mind that that palanquin we used before is still up there," purred Hermione. She gave Draco a malicious grin. "If you start getting above yourself again, you'll get the same treatment you got before!" Draco turned red, then white, then red again. Harry snickered to himself as he and his friends exited Borgin and Burke's. He privately considered Draco Malfoy a complete wanker, coasting along on his family money and name, and regarded the blond boy with the utmost contempt.

"Are you all right, Luna?" Hermione asked, concern in her voice. "Did they do anything to you?" Her eyes narrowed, and from the way she was holding her wand, if Luna had confirmed that the Malfoys had harmed her, Harry thought that Draco, at least, would not survive his first night back at Hogwarts. Snape had a strict zero-tolerance policy on matters of that sort, and the older Slytherins enthusiastically enforced his will on that front, even when they might wink at other misdemeanors.

"Oh, I'm fine, Hermione," Luna answered, her manner rather abstracted. To see her, Harry thought, you'd think that she'd been off in a meadow picking daisies, instead of blithely wandering through one of the worst nests of nastiness in London. "They were very nice to me. Mr. Malfoy was acting rather strangely, though. I wonder what it was he could have wanted with me?"

Over Luna's head, Harry, Dudley and Hermione exchanged significant glances. Silently, they agreed that once they were out of the Alley, and someplace they wouldn't be overheard, they needed to have a long, long talk with Luna.