Knockturned for The Better (Harry Potter Shopkeeper Quest)

[An exploration of Cairo was had]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

—

Nikola stares after her for a moment, then follows along, and together they make their way out, where they then make their way back to the portkey. It sits, undisturbed atop the sand, and Morrigan stares down at it for a few moments. Wind gently rolled by, catching bits of sand as it caressed the dunes, it passed by Morrigan, carrying the faintest scent of overpriced perfume. Nikola briefly wonders how strong the scent actually is, before noticing she is staring at him.

"How much for the rabbit?"

Nikola looks down at his pocket and the small head sticking out of it. Fluffi was looking this way and that, nose twitching. It didn't much enjoy open spaces, instincts Nikola supposes. Any hawk that made a go at it would be in for a rather frustrating surprise. "I'm afraid Fluffi is not for sale." Fluffi's head jerks, looking at Morrigan. "He is rather particular in his taste for companionship." Reaching down, you gently pick up Fluffi by the back of its neck and plop him into your hand. The rabbit spins around, taking everything in.

Morrigan gains a look of obvious curiosity, and, forgetting the Portkey for a moment, wanders over to run her hand over the ghost. Her fingers pass straight through, the woman letting out a brief hiss as a violent chill runs through the tip of her hand. Then Fluffi jerks around, attempting to bite her fingers, and failing. Morrigan stares down at it, watching in curiosity as buck teeth pass through her hand repeatedly. Without a word she moves the other hand to her chin, rubbing it, lost in thought. Her eyes flit to Nikola's hand, his face, and her eyes come alight in possibility.

"Now, I've never met a half-ghost before you. But if my eyes don't deceive me you can interact with ghosts."

"To an extent," Nikola replies, he shifts his hand, and Fluffi dives back into the pocket, briefly passing through Nikola's midsection before coming around to poke its head out once more. The lining on the pocket stretches around the rabbit, another 'modification' amongst many on the coat.

"To an extent, a miracle and the man states 'to an extent'." Morrigan says with a small smile. "Well, do let me know if at any point the rabbit does come up for sale, I could fetch a high price for it."

Fluffi taps its paws against the front of the jacket. Likely to state something to the effect of. 'More than you can afford missy!'

Morrigan then turns, hand on her hip, sauntering over to the portkey on the ground. "Well, we finished early. Tell me, would you find a walk of Cairo disagreeable? It has been some time since I've been around, and I am rather in the mood for a nice lunch."

"I don't see why not," Nikola replies, leaning idly against his staff. The wind whipped by again, sending sand off into the distance. At his side, the bag twitched slightly.

Morrigan looks back over her shoulder and raises the portkey. "Of course you don't, when one such as myself is inviting, is there any reason to refuse?"

Morrigan stood there, atop the dune, hand on her hip, portkey in her hand. Grinning back at Nikola as if she owned the universe. As Nikola walks over, shifting the coat off to himself with a burst of magic to return to desert clothes…

He wonders if she thinks she does. Then he grabs the portkey, and he is gone.

—

Nikola didn't regret what happened to him. He had lost some things, some things that regular humanity considered vital. But, to be honest, it didn't particularly bother him. He no longer felt the temperature, but could still be affected by it. He no longer felt hunger, but still needed to eat. His life is more muted, but not particularly different than most. What he perhaps misses the most, if one is to ask him and he is to take some time to think about it, would be the baser sensations, touch, taste, and smell. All three are still present, but all three are muted to the point that the sensations to him now were more akin to a memory of what they should be like more than what they are. He prefers the staff over the wand, for he can grip it harshly, keeping track of it within his grip. He eats at the same time everyday, so that he may never forget a meal. And he always paid special attention to the little sights and smells that could be lost, whether a hint of what is going on in the world around him. Or, merely a reminder of what has been lost.

Nikola did not miss that facet of his life, for it never truly left. It simply became muted. But as he walks the streets of Cairo. It is like his sense of smell never left at all. Colored spices sat in bowls, changing shape with every passing moment, pyramids, lions, men and women. They beckon to passers by, small bits of it dart through the air, floating around heads like snowflakes, tantalizing the senses before retreating back. A flash of bone, a whip of air, a skeletal bird flies back, dropping a package onto a counter that a man snatches off of it, unwrapping it to reveal what looks to be driftwood. Upon contact with the open air it comes alive with blooming flowers of silver and gold, glinting in the sunlight that peeks through the carpets covering the bazaar. Nikola's eyes watch the man for a moment, observing as he gets to with a pair of shears, clipping away the flowers and dropping them into a pot.

Then he turns his gaze forward again, following after Morrigan. With her golden blazer she is far from a difficult woman to keep track of. Her head doesn't move, she takes no apparent interest in the shops around her. Instead she simply walks through the crowd like she owns the place, the people, natives and foreigners alike, part around her like she were the Moses of yore. A trio of House-Elves hurry by, all three bedecked in gleaming white robes, one carries a basket atop his head, the interior of which is filled with golden eggs. Nikola watches them go in curiosity, and turns his head back to find himself nearly running into Morrigan. The woman's head is turned back, her lips curled in a smile. "Fascinated by the House-Elves? That's the second time now they've caught your eye."

"They are rather different from what I'm used to." Nikola replies, allowing curiosity to paint his tone.

"They perform the same functions, and are happy to do it." Morrigan replies, then begins to walk ahead, her voice slightly louder to speak over the crowd of rapid conversations and shouting hawkers. "But I would remind you that Magical Egypt is Theocratic, and their beliefs do not condone slavery. Elves are hired, not bought here. It's rather queer I must admit."

Nikola smiles. "And here I was told by an acquaintance of mine that it was the Goblins that were strange."

Morrigan smiles wider. "Oh, they absolutely are. Strange fellows that live out in the desert, they stick to their palaces. Though some of the nastier sort have been known to… mingle with passersby."

"Bandits?"

"Nothing of the sort," Morrigan replies. "They merely ask for protection money lest you wind up suffering from a sudden and horrific sandstorm."

Nikola smiles back. "Ah, capitalism."

"I prefer proactive wealth generation." Morrigan says, teeth flashing in the light. Before she begins walking further through the market and into another square. It is dominated by what appears to be a gargantuan mosque, sandstone capped with a golden dome. "But then I-" Morrigan starts to say, and then says nothing more, her words cut off by a dull ringing, the noise of the crowd fading away.

Nikola continues to focus on the Mosque, the sides of it shimmer, words shifting across it in a language Nikola recognizes as Arabic but cannot read. The stalls are gone now, but the crowd isn't. Wizards, witches, and everything else in between moves about. Yet, despite the sheer amount of them, it is… quiet. Impossibly quiet in fact, the sounds of footsteps are about the only thing that can be heard as they move, nobody is speaking, and the sound of the bazaar is suddenly, and abruptly cut off. Nikola's eyes shift around the crowd, more figures with golden painted faces now, some are supplicating in apparent prayer, others are moving about the crowd or, by appearance, speaking to people, though their conversations go unheard. Nikola casts his gaze up then, to see that the sky is different, gone is the harsh sunlight of Egypt, now present is a faint, shimmering golden light that doesn't interrupt the light provided by the sun, but definitely gives it a rather different air. His eyes shift slightly more down, as a griffin sunbathes atop a nearby building, its beaked mouth opening in a yawn before it lazily settles down onto its paws.

"Ah, here we go then. Lunch."

Nikola blinks, and realizes, all at once, the sound has returned. He looks away from the Griffin, and finds that he is now standing in the street just past the square, the sound of a market begins again, and he finds Morrigan staring at him, grinning from ear to ear. "You hungry?"

—

"So, tell me," Morrigan asks Nikola, her voice about as saccharine sweet as the drink in front of him. So pungent with put upon curiosity that it was nearly as revolting as well. "Why did you join this line of work? It's not for everybody." but then, she was a beautiful woman, Nikola has to admit that. And it is the purview of beautiful, powerful women to use everything at their disposal to get what they want. Much the same for men. His Baba had called him beautiful once, but then, he was rather… different now.

Nikola smiles, the drink is about the only thing he could taste anyway. "To support my family, things are… growing rather tense in my homeland, and I wish to help them leave it."

"A noble goal," Morrigan replies. "Your accent, Croatian?"

"Serbian." Nikola replies, the smile shrinking a touch. "And you are English, now we are all familiar."

"Touchy touchy," Morrigan replies, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. "It was only a question."

"Questions can be dangerous." Nikola replies, staring at Morrigan.

Morrigan's smile turns smug, almost predatory. She stares back, matching his unearthly gaze. "I am Morrigan Morgana McMorgan, I am dangerous, and danger is my business." Then, she leans back in the air, idly waving the cup away with her wand to land on a nearby waiter's tray. At once a small house-elf in robes toddles up, placing another cup of 'juice' onto the table. "And it's also my business to get to know my partners, no matter how… very dark and mysterious they may be."

"I wasn't aware we were partners," Nikola replies.

"We are until we leave the country, and possibly again in the future if you behave yourself." Morrigan replies, she then raises the cup to her lip and drinks, a trace of red surrounding her lips for a moment before she wipes it away. "Now, allow me to be perfectly blunt," she sets the cup back onto the table, then leans over it, gloved hands clasped together, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "You are useful, I would employ you for my services."

Useful, what a fascinating, funny little word. Nikola thought to himself. He has magic that would get him locked up in half the world. A country out to see him black bagged at best, and has seen enough that most Aurors would rather dance with a dementor. And it made him useful. The terminology is almost refreshing in its bluntness. "In what capacity?"

Morrigan's hand reaches across the table to lightly rub across his chin. It is an act of deliberately familiarity, flirtation. "Backup, you are a rather convenient fellow and I would take you along on my trips as necessary, you said yourself you never traveled much to begin with. You have stock for your shop, I have stock for mine."

Nikola's eyes flicker down to the hand, and without a word it pulls back. Then he meets her gaze again. "Wouldn't a dangerous woman be capable of handling herself?"

Morrigan's smile turns rather catlike. "I am capable of handling myself, and if you ever imply I'm not I will destroy you to prove otherwise. There is hardly a counter-curse I am unaware of, and I have seen more beasts than any Witch alive, I've slain most of them too." She then leans back in the chair. "But all it takes is one mistake and the solo delver is gone forever. Only fools go without partners or a very well thought out backup plan." Her finger runs around the rim of the cup, turning it this way and that. "And I find plans rather… restrictive. So yes, I would make you the offer of being in my employ for further contracts I find. You are free to buy yourself out of it of course, and can run your shop as well. I just would expect you to come when I call." The hand that was on the cup moves then to support her chin, and she adopts a look rather like her business card. "So, how about it?"

Nikola stares at her for a few moments, mulling it over. It would put him under the eyes of another rather quickly, and a rather obviously dangerous woman at that. But she seemed to have no qualms about his abilities, or nature, either. It would allow him to get stock for his shop, but he could do that already. On the other hand, she had far more worldly knowledge than she did so she would rather help him from getting over his head. He has contacts, but no experience in the places he went to. Not that he can't take care of himself of course.

So the question remains, even as Morrigan stares with a growing grin. To be in her employ, or go it alone?

… And will he make an enemy by refusing.

—

[] [Go with Morrigan]
A partner to explore the world, though less profit, and dealing with whatever difficulties she brings.

[] [Go it Alone]
More danger, more profit, and possibly annoying her.

—

Ya'll wanna explore Egypt more? Or head back to England.