Knockturned for The Better (Harry Potter Shopkeeper Quest)

Morrigan Morgana McMorgan


View: https://imgur.com/a/yoe5V9O


View: https://i.imgur.com/QrhRNK8.jpg

Trimsy


View: https://imgur.com/FRxLGD4

Hesperance


View: https://imgur.com/a/Vg89mJb

So, working on the next chapter and doing some worldbuilding on vampires. How are people liking the story and characters so far, anything ya'll would change? This quest was from the start heavily going to focus on worldbuilding due to frustrations with the source material, with a side objective of getting a little shop up and running. Just checking the mood of the thread.

[A figure of… little worth]
Abandoned, scorned, starving. Thirsting for blood.

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

—

Diagon Alley was an interesting enough street, but Nikola found Knockturn to be… a fair bit more interesting. The hawkers were loud, the hawkers were prevalent. Shouting of cheap cauldrons and cheaper wands. Potions of love, potions of damnation. Herbs of the most exotic source yet provided at cutthroat prices. Children peered into the alley as Nikola entered it, curiosity barely reigned in by quick mothers and fathers. In truth, Nikola had failed to see anything too dangerous within Knockturn, but then. He was a poor measure for danger to begin with. He had always been a particularly hard man to kill, and that was before he had partially left the tethers of life to walk in hand with death.

Nikola smiles, and continues to walk, his staff tapping against the ground as he does. Fluffi sticks its head up, sniffing the air from its perch in his breast pocket. Perhaps it was an unusual sight, but it was far from the only ghost in Knockturn. Long dead witches and wizards floated through the air, taking in the sight. Some, obviously, quite foreign in nature. His mind briefly goes to Hesperance, wondering how she is settling in in the brief amount of time he had left her. Perhaps it had been a stupid move to show pity to her like he did.

No. He knows it was a stupid move. But he, unfortunately, had a streak of generosity that had both helped, and harmed him in the past. On the one hand, his pity had ached at him for years until the accident. Causing him his fair share of sleepless nights and worried, endless days. On the other, it had led him to Grandmother, so, one took the good with the bad. He walked past the 'Coffin House', a place styling itself as a Necromancer's Shop. In truth, from a glance, it was little more than an ornament shop for those wishing to project themselves as someone not to be messed with. And regardless, there were no charms that specifically prevented Inferi from attacking like they advertised. Borgin and Burkes was past that, an odd-and-ends shop if he had ever seen one, a man was standing in front of it, long blonde hair, nearly platinum shining in the dim light of the day as he half-shouted to the man inside about something or another. You ignored him, walking past Twilight and Tattings. Or the back end of it anyway, a rather upper-class looking robe shop.

Beyond that a tattoo parlor, an apothecary, an alchemist, a second, more sinister looking apothecary. And a shop selling, rather terrifyingly, discount, used brooms. Finally, however, Nikola reached his destination, sitting between a betting shop and a locksmith. Forty Seven A, Morrigan's Shop of Maladies.

Nikola was honestly unsure of what he should have expected. But… he finds himself both surprised, and not, at the same time. Buildings in Knockturn have a look to themselves. They hang, they sag, they look sad and old and tired. It's a deliberate put on air to let people know that they contents they can find within are, on the whole, a bit more dangerous, a bit cheaper. Or extremely dangerous and very expensive. That isn't to say everything in Knockturn is illegal, indeed, nothing visible from the windows is. But much like a man's clothes speak of his nature, so do the buildings around that street.

The betting house is a dilapidated thing, with planks of wood nailed onto holes blasted out with magic or fists. While the locksmith is seemingly made out of copper, a dull patina making up the walls that are more cyan than orange, with a large door, fittingly, covered in key holes. Morrigan's shop however, is a townhouse. A three story structure, built out of aged, but proud brick. They go up, refusing to sag like the buildings around it, spacing out between windows, three to each floor barring the lowest which has the middle one replaced by a door. Above it, swings a sign of red-wood and golden lettering.

'Morrigan's Shop of Maladies

Yes, that Morrigan.'

Golden specks of magical light drift from the bottom of it, bright as neon and about as annoying. Nikola stares up at the sign for a moment, wondering if it might begin to sing a song of her praises, before he walks inside the building proper. It is…

Rather cramped, surprisingly.

Barrels, shelves, bookcases, display cases. All and more fill the room much like a muggle antique shop. Each was filled with some good or another, all kept contained by glass or rope wrapped tightly around the objects to keep them in place. Wands, books, artifacts, gems and baubles, all kept locked away with golden padlocks and a sign, handwritten that floats past Nikola's face to rest near whatever he happens to be looking at.

Words fade and write themselves again and again on the parchment, describing the objects he looks at. 'Monkey doll cursed to always tell the wrong future'. 'Broomsticks guaranteed to crash after three minutes of flight-time'. His eyes move to another shelf, an empty glass jar. 'Contains confounding pixie dust.' A book. 'Written in an unknown tongue, the reader will learn it, and lose the previous'. More and more and more, each time meanwhile at the bottom of the floating parchment reads the same text, no matter how the above changes. 'Find Morrigan for a price and a sales pitch!'.

Nikola turns his head, where, in the center of the room, watching him, hand on her cheek and surrounded by a small mountain of gold, sat Morrigan behind a large, circular desk. The gold was that of the Egyptian tomb, and at the moment it was currently being looked over by a duo of smartly dressed goblins.

"You finally come to visit Nikola?"

"I was rather busy tending to my shop shortly after you gave me your business card." Nikola replies. "As I mentioned to you in Egypt, I found my giant, thus… now I find you."

"And how do you find me?" Morrigan asks, her smile growing.

"Proud." Nikola says bluntly.

Morrigan laughs, it's a near-malicious thing that causes one of the goblins to look up in annoyance. "Oh yes, indeed. Do be careful how you wield that honesty, a sharp dagger it may be, many here would respond to daggers with blades of their own."

Nikola nods his head, accepting the advice but not commenting on it. He makes a show of looking around for a moment, not truly interested in any of her stock. He has little use for cursed items, but she does, indeed, have an eclectic collection. "All cursed then?"

"I have a few more basic odds-and-ends here and there." Morrigan responds. "But the vast majority, yes. Most people are eager to acquire things at a discount, though for some of the nastier ones the price mostly evens out once they work with a curse-breaker. But then, I also stock things that are considerably rarer than you would find on Diagon Alley." Her eyes shift to the goblins busy working over the gold. Then back to Nikola, an easy smile on her face. "Do let me know if you find anything… interesting." The last word comes out as nearly a purr.

Nikola smiles. "Cursed items aren't generally my forte, but I would certainly enjoy looking around."

Her smile dims somewhat. "Of course, I'll be here."

—

The auction house wasn't particularly hard to find at the very back of the alley, it was a large building, almost a warehouse in construction. Though medieval, far from modern. Stone, with wooden framing encompassing a wide and open space sitting underneath a large barn-like roof. The building had no doors, just a large open entranceway that was currently roped off. Inside, past rows of pews, all crooked and broken in their own way, was a large, circular sand pit in the center of the building. It stood alone, well past all the pews, and just before the large lectern where the auctioneer would do their work. Nikola's eyes flit to the side, where a sign next to the door marks the next auction opening… tomorrow morning.

He looks back, curious if he could see anyone about, but nobody is present. Instead then turning, Nikola's staff taps against the ground as he begins making his way back to his shop, taking in the sights around him still. Another wand-shop, a crystal ball store, a bat shop, flying rodent not wooden instrument, and a small alley connecting Knockturn once more to Diagon and Horizont alleys. There, ignored by the passersby and slumped against the wall panting, was a man. He was rather tall, and gaunt, wearing a thick black coat that covered his body up to his neck where it ended in a rather dramatic collar. Blonde hair, matted with sweat glistened in the sun, and as Nikola looked at the man.

The man looked back, revealing a drawn face, bones protruding from the cheeks, eyes sunken, skin pale, and prominent fangs jutting from his lips. The passersby ignored the man, or specifically, avoided him, and upon their gaze meeting the man quickly looked away, his tongue darting out to lick at his fangs before he hugs himself tighter against the wall, seemingly trying to withdraw from the people around him.

A vampire then, and a starving one at that. They were relatively common in the Balkans, though less so in Serbia than the other nations. Nikola hadn't been aware there were any in England, but then, Nikola had little reason to check. Vampires, a genetic condition, and a rather nasty one at that. Just being in the sunlight is likely horrifically painful for the man, but it seems like he has mostly lost the ability to move. Or, given by how deathly his features are, he is terrified that if he did he would launch himself at somebody.

… It is none of Nikola's business, the man muses to himself. And he had a shop's stock to go over, and plans to make now that he has had a minor windfall. Ghostly pats against his chest, Fluffi trying to urge him away from the 'predator'. Nikola glanced down, wondering where the bravery the rabbit felt against Crocus had run off to. Then he looks again, the man is staring at him once more, his eyes wide, a monstrous, bestial hunger behind them. But restraint is there as well, his fingers dug into his arms, feet dug into the earth.

Nikola stares at the man for a moment longer, then he begins to walk. Without moving too much, he reaches into the inside of his coat, feels around for a moment, then pops open a small vial. At once the scent of iron wafts out, dear blood, useful for runes… and now, as the man peels himself away from the wall to follow behind. Bait. Nikola ignored the instincts that warned him of a predator following behind, he ignored the baps of Fluffi attempting to warn him to sprint. Calmly, he produced his keys, unlocked the door to his shop, and stepped aside.

"Hello again Hesperance." Nikola greets the ghost with a smile, the woman standing behind his desk, having been apparently perusing his small collection of books.

"Good morning si-" Hesperance starts, but her words are cutoff as Nikola wheels around.

His staff hooks around the Vampire's throat, throwing it to the wall just beside the door. His staff collides with its neck, pressing against it and holding the man in place, all while his foot kicks out to close the door. The man thrashes, in both blind panic, and hunger. But he is weak, and Nikola is practiced. Stabbing a hand into his coat, Nikola produces the vial and pours it down the man's throat.

At once, the struggles cease.

—

There were many out of the way places in Knockturn Alley, many little shops, many little corners, many little shadows. It was a dingy place, it was a dark place, but Nikola wouldn't say it was a particularly dangerous place. It was a place styled as it was to attract a certain clientele, there were some who spoke of dark wizards, of light wizards, of grey. This was entirely nonsense, a witch and wizard was free to choose their own fate, their own destiny. There were no 'dark ' families, nor were there 'light' families.

The same was true of streets, there were no 'evil' streets. In truth, Nikola much preferred Knockturn over Diagon. The latter was far too noisy for Nikola's taste, and he had never been particularly comfortable around children. They were too easily used as spies, or worse in Serbia. And, with its abundance of toy shops, ice creams, and preparatory shops for school… it was frequently filled with the little things. Knockturn however, definitely put on a show of being dark, because the things it sold were dangerous, even in this shop there were things Nikola had been forced to put warning labels on. Magic was, inherently, dangerous. For it went against the natural order of things.

There were those, of course, who believed they could control it. Demand it walk the line… or party line as the case may be. A wizard was sturdy, a witch was resilient, their bodies… our bodies were more resistant to damage. Curses that would cause a muggle's brain to leak out of their ears would simply cause a particularly nasty nosebleed. It made us more free to seek out risks and dangers, to delve into places that should be left forgotten, to mess with things man wasn't truly meant to. It also caused us to develop a reputation, little inklings of our society leaking out into the modern world, causing confusion, legend, and hearsay. Werewolves? Not a curse, a communicable illness started sometime in the late Roman antiquity in early attempts to recreate the Germanic natural-born animagi. Ghosts? Quite real, as Nikola could happily confirm. Only muggles could not see them, only their effects, and it took quite a nasty spirit to actually cause something they would notice.

Poltergeists were quite more common and dangerous to run into but separate from ghosts. Something muggles never quite seemed to figure out. Haunts were a lingering thing, emotions left behind, strong ones. There were still sections of Germany, France, Poland and Croatia that the ICC has banned anyone with even the slightest magical talent from visiting. Muggles found them disquieting, wizards and witches found them deadly. The same was true of many creatures, myths… things tended to leak from one society into the other. Though far more from the world of magic to the world of the mundane than vice versa. Nikola had worked with Muggles many times, he rather enjoyed their company. They were easy to trust.

Few would ever admit to doing the same, they were… so very alien to so many. Perhaps that's why they made so many stories, perhaps that's why they lived in such fear of the dark. The Vampire was a creature with many such rumors and myths about it. Stakes to the heart, indeed, killed them as much as it would just about anyone else. Garlic? Their senses were heightened, and it was pungent. They would have the same reaction to a cut onion. Cannot enter thresholds without being invited? They could go where they wished. Running natural water? As long as it wasn't too fast, certainly.

A need to drink blood?

That one was true. The man across from Nikola was named Jacob, he had managed to get out that much before drinking down the blood offered greedily. Whether he was disappointed that it wasn't hot as it would be from the neck the man didn't say, but as he removed the cup from his lips, he smiled. The change was both immediate, and rather dramatic. The sunken hollows around his eyes filled in, the bones protruding through thin skin on the face faded away. And the skin, while remaining deathly pale, flushed enough that he looked vaguely alive.

"Feeling better?" Nikola asks.

"Much, thank you." The man replies, grinning and revealing bloody teeth. A moment later, perhaps self-conciously he closed his lips and Nikola could see his tongue darting about underneath to remove the lingering blood.

"Now, praytell why a vampire was starving to death in an alley?" Nikola's eyes shift to the corner where Hesperance was currently 'sitting', she was watching both men curiously, but had yet to say anything.

The man cut an odd figure, he looked about near death, but that was true of all vampires. But unlike the vast majority of them Nikola had met, the man was decidedly… modern. His clothes were of good make, a long black coat of velvet with a rather dramatic popped collar, but underneath was a simple buttoned up shirt, black slacks… and a silver, gleaming cross hanging down from his neck. "They ran out of blood rations at the Dor-CMC." The man looks both annoyed, and embarrassed as he says that. "Something about a shortage from muggle donations… but I let others worse off have first crack at it, I thought I had enough stock to simply deal with it until they refreshed… but then they announced another delay and I found myself starving."

"Dor-CMC?" Nikola repeats.

Jacob's smile fades slightly. "Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They… help, those like myself. Of course, they can do little for shortages."

"No willing necks?"

Jacob shakes his head. "There are those who would offer, some even out of kindness. But it's far too dangerous. Too easy to accidentally turn another, and half-starved as I was…" The man closes his eyes. "It was only by the grace of god that I didn't hurt anyone."

Nikola adopts a curious look. "An odd turn of phrase for a vampire."

Jacob relaxes a bit in the chair, smiling again. "We are all his children, I am no less a man than anyone else in the street. I just live my life with a bit of difficulty."

"You speak as a man of the cloth."

The man leans forward, offering a hand to shake. "Reverend Jacob Ponds."

Nikola takes it without a thought. "Nikola, shopkeep."

The man's grip was soft, his fingers small. But there was a strength there, hidden underneath. Nikola didn't comment on it as the man drew his hand back. "Well, I must thank you for your assistance." The man was quiet, well spoken, but not overly noble. The coat and the skin screamed 'vampire'. The clothing underneath and the demeanor screamed 'family man'. It was an odd dichotomy.

"I am not one to stand idly by as someone needs help, much to my eternal frustration." Nikola replies.

"All sacrifice will be rewarded in the end," Jacob replies. Then he looks over the shop for a few moments, taking everything in. "A fascinating collection, an odds and ends dealer then?"

"Remnants, Raiments, Relics." Nikola replies, "at least, that's what my sign proclaims, I'm still gathering stock."

"You defend yourself rather well for a shopkeep." Jacob replies.

"You are remarkably polite for a vampire." Nikola counters.

Jacob shrugs his shoulders. "It never hurts to be polite, especially when one is already prejudiced against for simply existing."

"And it never hurts to know how to defend oneself," Nikola answers in turn. "I'm surprised it had progressed to that extent however, are there no other options for blood available?"

Jacob says nothing for a few moments, staring at Nikola's eyes underneath the glasses. Perhaps curious about the ethereal nature of the man, then he looks to the floor. "Some things have become… more difficult lately, I suppose. The local office that was in place to help was shut down due to budget, and the other is across town and only open every other day." He shakes his head. "Things can be quite difficult at times, but one manages all the same." Jacob then looks Nikola in the eyes again. "Sir, if you aren't offended by my asking. Are you quite alright?"

"I'm fine," Nikola replies with a smile. "I just had a rather unlucky run in with death that took a part of me."

"A near death experience?" Jacob asks.

"Perhaps something like that," Nikola replies. "You stated you were a reverend?"

Jacob nods. "Yes, in Brent, a bit to the north of here. Would you be interested in visiting?"

"I'm afraid I'm Orthodox." Nikola replies.

Jacob's smile turns a bit more amused. "Well, nobody is perfect."

Nikola laughs quietly, "A vampire reverend?"

"I am as God made me, and the path I have been given, while difficult, is well worth travelling. The fangs are easy to explain by a youth listening to The Clash." Then, Jacob stares at him for a few moments, saying nothing before. "Tell me, would you happen to have ever travelled to the northern end of the country?"

"To be truthful I've only been in England for less than a month."

Jacob smiles again, it is a rather excited smile. "An estate came into my possession when my father died, and I was actually looking into liquidating the majority of it for my parish. Only, a good deal of it is quite old, quite mysterious, and, if I'm being honest. Quite likely cursed. He was rather a… spiteful man." Jacob leans back in his seat once more. "I was looking for someone to remove a good deal of it so I could use the space for other purposes, I don't suppose you offer such things?"

…

Nikola stares at him for a few moments, wondering how, exactly, he had come to deserve providence such as this. "I'm versed in countering curses, I wouldn't be averse to taking the job. I also know an architect if you were looking to turn the space into something else."

"Then I would say I know how to repay your generosity already. Would you be interested?"

Nikola thinks it over for a few moments, though, honestly, it required little in the way of debate. "In the north you say?"

Jacob nods, "a small village named Hogsmeade."

"I would be glad to take a look," Nikola replies, now smiling himself.

The only question then…

—

Was he going to involve his… partner? Or someone else, or nobody at all?

[] [Invite Morrigan Along]
It was nothing he likely couldn't handle, especially since it was within England. But it would help foster a working relationship. And he could likely argue the percentage since he was the one who received the job.

[] [Invite Hesperance]
Who knows, may help get to know her a bit better.

[] [Invite Trimsy]
For the amusement of it, and who knows, she may know where hidden things may lie. She was his roommate after all.

[] [Do it alone]
He had skill enough as a curse-breaker to deal with a simple old house.