Knockturned for The Better (Harry Potter Shopkeeper Quest)

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

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

—

Her smile reminded Nikola of the past, of blades in the dark and a blood red smile that hid a serpent's tongue. Quite literally. His finger traced the top of his glass, staring at the woman across from him. An associate, a dangerous concept. He is not averse to connections, he wanted a new life for himself, though how much he could be said to be 'alive' is up to the philosophers at this point. But there is a difference between a connection, and an associate. An associate is someone regular, someone to be trusted, someone to be worked with and someone to be relied upon. Nikola has gone through much of his life relying on very few others, and not through any choice on his part. Working as he did, working for who he did, it is a nest of vipers. No, that is incorrect. It is a barrel full of rats steadily filling with water. They fought, they clawed, and they tore each other apart just to reach one small speck of daylight, unaware that the sky is merely a small hole that none could fit through to escape. A tantalizing glimpse of freedom, but no true promise of it. A pleasant lie.

He is not averse to the concept, but it is one largely alien to him as well. He has his family, he has his connections, but to tie himself to another. How very… intriguing. "You stated I would come when you call, go into further detail."

Morrigan's smile dims entirely, fading away like a breeze as she leans across the table.

"I regularly make excursions to restock, not every week mind, but regularly. One can of course get a good deal from estate sales of fading nobility and the auctions that occur in Knockturn. But the truly exotic can only be acquired from further afield." Morrigan leans back again, her fingers gliding across the table. "You have obvious talent, and I rather pride myself on having an eye for it. So I would employ you, you join me on these excursions when I ask, terms to be discussed depending on the job and how…" Morrigan waggles her eyebrows. "Legal it all is, I'm sure you know what I speak of?"

"So no contract today."

"Beyond what you agreed to already? No. This is me simply wanting to know if you would be interested in working for me further." The witch leans back in her chair, her golden blazer catching the fragments of sunlight coming through the gaps in the cloth above. "I'm aware that many are rather nervous working for a Witch as amazing as myself."

"Have you ever been informed you are very humble?" Nikola asks.

"I have," Morrigan replies, and she flashes a brilliant, if cocky smile. "And everyone that has said it is delightfully wrong." She lifts her cup to her lips, but doesn't drink it, instead staring at you from above the glass. "This is not a career that rewards a coward, and one does not thrive in Knockturn without confidence."

Nikola shrugs his shoulders. "Over-confidence in my experience tends to lead to death, or a curse in the back."

"Who spoke of over-confidence?" Morrigan queries. "I know indubitably how good I am, I know exactly what my limits are, and I know precisely what I am, and am not willing to do. I am precisely as confident as I need to be. You, my good future friend, would do well with flaunting your abilities more, they would do well in Knockturn. Even if you look in part somewhat like a Death Eater."

Nikola tilts his head. "If that is a reference, it is lost to me."

"Perhaps they have a different name in your tongue. Servants of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named?"

Nikola blinks slowly, thinking about that for a moment. "... You stated he, which removes the primary person my thoughts travel to. I doubt you speak of Koschei either, do you mean Grindelwald?"

Morrigan says nothing for several moments, her lips pursed. "You are telling me you haven't heard of Voldemort?"

"Oh, yes." Nikola says, nodding now. "But he is mostly an English problem. I read about him, but he isn't something we were dealing with."

"Truly? Blessed be you then." Morrigan replies.

Nikola almost replies that he is, back when he was younger and still is part of the faith. But decides instead to not mention it. A warm wind blows by, carrying with it the scent of grilled meats Nikola couldn't place. Something tickles the back of his mind, a memory of a summer's day. Then it's gone, replaced by the faint feeling on the edge of his senses provided by the harsh heat of Cairo. He is, after all, the only man here not sweating. "Then I would agree, at least for now. Though I would request to go over any future contracts in detail."

Morrigan nods and gently tugs off the glove of her right hand, revealing skin far paler than her face. Running across the back of it is a rather prominent burn scar that started at the first knuckle then ran straight down to her wrist, twisting and swirling all the while like someone had taken a red hot poker and danced it along the flesh. She offers it forward, and Nikola takes it.

"Good to work with you, partner." Morrigan says with a wide grin. She shakes the hand, then releases him, putting her glove back on a moment later. "Now, tell me, how will you get the fascinating little creature through customs?"

Nikola smiles. "Experience."

"A man of mystery," Morrigan says. "Tell me, how much of that is an act?"

"You ask many questions," Nikola replies, the smile fading away as fast as it had arrived.

Morrigan shrugs her shoulders, causing her voluminous red hair to shift around her head. The wand spun slightly in her hair, but gave no sign that it would fall out. "It's my job to provide answers. A charm for one's love life, a cursed amulet for a troublesome rival. An ancient relic for prosperity, a totem to spread pestilence. I must insist you visit at some point."

"Perhaps after I have found this giant you spoke of," Nikola replies.

"I know the man myself, I can happily give you direction. At my shop."

Nikola stares at her, she stares back. His expression reveals little, his mouth a thin set line, eyes glowing faintly behind his sunglasses. Morrigan, meanwhile, was grinning ear to ear, one hand on her chin.

"Are you open tomorrow?"

"For my new partner? Of course." Morrigan replies. "Now, I would love to take you on more of a tour, but as the afternoon comes around, the ministry is only going to get busier. Are you ready to leave?"

Nikola stares at her questioningly. "Are you? What of the tomb?"

Morrigan's smile turns a touch to the predatory. "Oh, I've already sent the letters I've needed."

Nikola nods, and stands up from the table, reaching down, he picks up the briefcase, feeling the weight in his hand for a moment, and the small creature now begins to wriggle around in there.

… When did she send those letters, he wonders.

—

The clerk, a rather bright looking witch that nevertheless looked excited to be there as he is, popped the locks on Nikola's briefcase. Revealing his travelling supplies, sparse as they are, a small rune-carving kit, and a ghostly bunny poking its head out from underneath a spare shirt. With a wave of her wand every item in it shot up into the air, hovering in place above the case. "Anything to declare?"

"None."

"No souvenirs, gifts, or Non-Goblin currency?"

"None."

The woman, who Nikola surmises can't be much older than eighteen or nineteen glances down at her desk. "Any animals, magical creatures, or constructs?"

"Not unless my pet counts, but they have been declared already." Nikola replies, pointing at the rabbit, now glaring at the customs agent for having disturbed its well deserved rest.

"Understood sir, we shall need to search you before you enter England of course, wand please?"

Nikola smiles. "Of course," reaching into his coat pocket he produces the small, transformed staff. Offering it forward to the woman, back end first as is customary. "Tell me, is this usual?"

She reaches forward to take the wand, then pauses. "Is what, usual sir?"

"I was going to ask regarding the inspection, but I suppose I more meant a witch such as yourself doing this." Nikola continues to smile, then shifts off his coat so that it could be searched as well. A man was standing just behind him, waving his hand over him to check for any contraband. "A rather important position for someone your age, you must have quite some talent."

The witch smiles, "I do my best sir." She replies, making notes with a quill on a pad of paper.

"I'm sure, anything else I need to remove besides my coat?" Nikola asks.

"No sir, this will just take a moment longer. Did you contact anything that may carry communicable ailments, curse, hex, or natural?"

"None," Nikola replies, watching out of the corner of his eye as the man checking him over takes a step back and nods.

The witch smiles a touch wider. "Would you mind removing your glasses sir?"

Nikola hesitates for a moment, then removes them.

The smile on her face dies. Her eyes meet his, then she quickly looks away, making a small note with a quill again. She hesitates for a moment, staring down at the paper, then looks back at Nikola, staring at his neck. "Welcome back to England, please proceed on your way." With a wave of her wand, the items fly back into his briefcase and it snaps shut once more.

Nikola's smile dims, but he says nothing further. Taking the briefcase, slipping his coat back on, and retrieving his wand. He puts the glasses back on a few steps later, frowning, but doing nothing to attract attention as he makes his way out of the ministry.

There was a time when that was easier, but then, some things had become rather hard in the last few years. He steps out into the crisp air of London, through the streets, through the bookstore, and back into the alley, back into his new… neighborhood. It is then, and only then that he glances down.

His 'heart' was beating. Raising a hand, pushes it gently into his chest, then he grabs Crocus and pulls it out of himself, the tiny crocodilian thrashing in his hand. It was roaring something, or attempting to. It still had rope bounds around its snout.

Nikola simply tapped it with his wand, and it went still once more. Then, shoving it into his coat pocket, he began walking down the street towards his shop again.

—

Nikola's shop is precisely as he left it, and in part, that is what causes him to feel alarmed. It is perfect, none of the traps have been sprung, none of the warnings have gone off. The only one who has been in, or out, is Trimsy. Yet there is something else here, something in the air, a faint sense of something beyond the veil.

His footsteps make no sound as he moves through the shelves, a faint cold filling him, traces of frost left behind as he moves. The displays are untouched, but there is another here, close, yet impossibly far away. His body phases through the last shelf nearest the window, and then he sees his intruder. The faintest hint of perfume wafts through the air, the memory of a scent, overly sweet flowers unfamiliar to him. Perfumes and colognes were both unknown to him, popular amongst some witches and wizards, but a detriment in his former line of work. He has little experience with them, but what he saw… he has plenty of experience with.

A woman stood before his bay window, looking out towards the rain. The curtains were drawn back, letting in faint traces of light that eked through the London malaise. And her hand is sticking through the window. Only, it isn't raised, for the window is quite static. Her hand simply is passing through the glass like it isn't there at all, palm outstretched, trying to catch water droplets that passed through her hand, literally slipping through her fingers.



He supposed she isn't, after all. She is quite dead.

Nikola allowed his staff to tap against the ground, and the woman stilled, her clothes and accessories, previously moving of their own accord like she is suspended underwater, stilled. Then she turned, revealing a dolled up face that spoke of a life far removed from his own. She smiled, revealing white teeth, brilliant, despite being opaque. "Good evening, would you be Mister Nikola?" the woman asks, her voice English, but of an older sort. More refined, yet deliberately careful with every syllable, it have the effect of making every word sound far more important, and longer than it usually did.

Nikola stared at the ghost for a moment, then relaxed. "Yes, do you need something?"

"... Perhaps," the woman said after a moment. "Pray tell, would you perhaps be in need of a Watchman?"

—

This encounter will be followed up on in the next chapter. For now though, we have a separate vote. Nikola will be coming into a decent amount of funds once he has sold off Crocus, so we are on our first real shop vote now.

Nikola has to obtain 20000 galleons in order to retrieve his family. He has 390 galleons now, and will obtain more soon depending on actions regarding Crocus. But for now, he would rather dearly like to grow, and you have to spend Galleons to make Galleons.

—

[] [Stock the shelves] High Expense, ??? Reward
Trinkets from Nikola's homeland are one thing, Galleons need to spent at these auctions that Morrigan mentioned to fill out the shop.
"And that one goes to that dark fella' there from the continent. Course, ol' Greyback may have a few problem's with that!"

[] [Advertise] Medium Expense, Medium Reward
People weren't aware the shop even existed, Nikola needed to get the word out.
The man with blonde hair arched his brow. "Do explain what gives you the right to post this here?"

[] [Find… additional employment] - No Expense, ??? Risk, ??? Reward
Nikola had many myriad abilities, perhaps someone needs something done.