The streets of Diagon Alley shortly became emptier, chattering and laughter booming from the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes were slowly being muffled by the stillness that the shadows had brought. Aine, Aion and Draco had met with Narcissa Malfoy who was waiting for the children in one of the passageways leading to Knockturn Alley. She embraces her son before reaching for the Estoileon siblings' hands to give them a comforting squeeze, her red lips flattening into a tight smile. "Come, sweetlings."
Narcissa had led the way, knowing the place well as she confidently strode through the maze-like alleys, she made a sharp turn right and walked down a short flight of stairs before squeezing through the tunnels of the stoned walls. Draco and Aine kept up behind her, their hands intertwined, trembling a little. Aion followed closely behind, making sure they weren't pursued by any unwanted beings.
There were wanted posters plastered on the walls, images of criminals flashing as the group went by. They had paid little to no attention whatsoever, half of those faces were people they had known and many of them had often resided in the Malfoy Manor where they had stayed.
"Stay close, frère," Draco whispered over his shoulders, careful not to say Aion's actual name just in case. Aine occasionally had to look behind to keep track of their paths and her brother, checking to see if her sibling was still with them and safe.
Knockturn Alley was a shady place to be, with faint clamouring in the distance and rowdy witches and wizards stirring trouble in the district. Not to mention how little light there was illuminating the road they had embarked on that none of them could even see the path they were walking. It was easy to get lost and anyone could get trapped in this labyrinth if there weren't paying attention.
It was also a place where many odd beings had stumbled, whether they were humans or half-breed creatures or even species Aine didn't want to know. There was always a weird ball lurking in the corners of the aisle— A couple of few that Aine and her acquaintance had met as they walked past wearing the most cynical expressions on their faces that made them appear unhinged, loony, or perhaps both.
One was facing the bricked wall under a tunnel, pressing his lips onto the rough surface and whispering secrets to it while cackling as if he had heard a joke from the building. The second huddled herself together as she sang a lullaby while giggling every once in a while. Another screams his head away, scratching his nails onto a wooden scrap of the board before wailing and then laughing. It was as if there had been a few screws loose in their minds, and only the gods know what hell they had been through to behave in such a way.
Aine didn't mean to judge but she couldn't help it. Every time she passed by one of them, it would send chills down her spine. Whenever she met their eyes, she would feel extremely uncomfortable and disturbed, causing the girl to focus her gaze on Narcissa's back. If given the choice, Aine most certainly did not want to be stuck down here alone or rather, she wouldn't even want to come to such a claustrophobic place where every intersection she turn, it always gave the same impression.
Draco had noticed this, that she was feeling anxious and had started to dig her nails into her free hand's palm to create little crescents. He pulled her closer to him, making her feel safe and that she was next to him at all times.
They wove through the darkness, falling towards a blacker abyss. Everything around them was black and dark, the road, the walls, the shop fronts, even the stream of the lake beneath the stoned bridge was like a pool of ink. No one knows how deep it was but how dark it is.
A series of barkings from hounds startled Draco and he hitches his breath, catching onto Aine's hands tighter as a reflex. The girl in turn rubbed her thumb on his hand, soothing him.
Their footsteps tapped onto the shiny cobblestone grounds, and when they turned down the corner, Aine tilted her head to the side and caught sight of three shadows hiding behind the pillars. They were being followed and when she narrowed her eyes to focus on their identities, she gave a small exhale and cursed in her head.
We are being followed... She said to Draco and Aion in her mind.
"Potter, Weasley and Granger..." Draco mouths back to her and she nodded. He rolled his eyes at their nosiness and clicks his tongue. Their curiosity was going to get them killed one day.
Aion gave a short bob of his head to his sister and with his wand hidden behind his cloak, he flicked it to create an illusion barrier to prevent the Trio from stalking them any further.
There was finally a hint of light from ahead, the sign Borgin and Burkes appearing in frame as the signboard swayed from the wind that howled. As soon as Aine took another step, a horrible headache caused her to stagger to the side. She grunted and grasped onto her head, it was like someone had bricked the back of her head. Her mind was splitting apart and it all became worse when a hissing noise stung her ears.
Draco held onto her frame, confused and worried at her abrupt declining state. "Aine? What is it?" he asks her in a soft gentle voice, watching the girl attempt to rid the voices ringing in her mind by shaking her head.
Narcissa halted and turned around, she quickly rushed towards the girl who was holding onto the pillar nearby for support while her brother surveyed around nervously.
Aine shuts her lids tight, she could feel her nerves being pulled, stretching to the back of her skull as the high-pitched whisperings increased. A whimper came from her and a series of images flickered by her closed eyes, it was like someone's memory had been lodged into her mind impulsively.
There was a young boy, sitting in an armchair surrounded by dark artefacts as he fiddles with a medium-sized octagonal pendant with a faceted domed mossy green glass on the front. His hair was swooped to the side and he wore a charismatic smirk, stroking the pendant. Then the memory flashed away, replacing it was a wealthy woman with a flamboyant bright orange wig. She was being charmed by the young boy Aine had seen earlier, tittering as she caressed the gentleman's face. A golden goblet with two finely-wrought handles and a few jewels embedded in it beside her.
"It's one of my most prized possessions," she flaunted to the boy who hums. His pupils narrow into slits as they swirl with desire at the sparkly golden cup.
Aine panted, she blinks back from her visions and found herself coming back to reality. It took her a second to comprehend everything, her mind was still fuzzy and she felt lightheaded. However, she could see Aion's, Draco's and Narcissa's concern looks on her.
"Breathe, Aine..." she hears Mrs Malfoy telling her and she did as told.
She sucks in the cold air, filling her lungs and exhaled, repeating until her vision had cleared up. Her forehead was glistening with cold sweat and her face was paler than ever. She clutched onto her cloak, shivering while her brother cupped her face.
"I'm- I'm fine..." she reassures them, gulping down her saliva as she took another deep breath.
"What happened, Lianna?" Aion asks, soothing her back as Draco held onto her hand, propping her up still.
Aine shook her head, she was equally taken aback just as the rest of them. "I don't know..." she breathed.
"Did you have another vision?" Draco carefully questioned, brows knitting together. With how pale Aine had become, it made her eyes appear more bloodshot and the grey shadows under her lower lashes more obvious. The sight of Aine reminded him of how she had once looked when she had been tortured in the cellar, broken and hollow, fragile and small.
She nodded, straightening her spine as her knuckles became white from clenching onto her cloak too tightly. A wave of fear washed over her when the young man from her vision appeared once more when she had fluttered her eyes. He had bear a familiar resemblance to someone she believed to know and his mellow voice had sent every of her hair standing. All it takes was for that one bone-chilling voice to speak that she felt vulnerable again, her strong facade was threatening to flicker away like a tiny flame. "It's like someone had implanted their memories in my head..." she told them.
Aion sighed, he glanced around. Although there were only walls encompassing them, he could tell that there were eyes prying towards them from the darkness, windows and nooks of Knockturn Alley. "We shouldn't talk here. Let us head into the shop first," the older boy suggested.
Narcissa nodded, scurrying along as she pushes the ebony wooden door of Borgin's shop. Draco firmly enfolds Aine as they enter the shop with Aion skulking behind. He closes the door shut and the bell twinkled.
Borgin had emerged from the counter, he puts on a jubilant grin as he greeted the Malfoy lady before his attention diverted to her son and the two Estoileons. His brows quirked to a side, he had not heard they were expecting two more extra guests.
"They are with me, Mr Borgin," Narcissa relayed to him and he simpers, acknowledging the siblings' presence.
Borgin studies Aine's covered face, his eyes glimmered with a hint of lust at her beautiful moonlight-coloured hair, making Draco scowl at him in return, protective of the girl.
"Do you perhaps mind if we take a seat?" Draco politely enquiries, he guided Aine to a plush leather loveseat and sat her down after Borgin had agreed. The store owner then rushes off to get Aine a drink, disappearing behind the door. Draco kneels down to Aine, brows slanting to the side with worry.
The girl buried her face in her palms, reliving the vision she had earlier. She recalled the green octagon pendant and the golden goblet and the hissing sounds crept into her eardrums once more. It was similar to a screeching sound as if someone was using a fork to scratch a glass. It was awfully irritating and Aine covered her ears with her hands to silence it.
"Lianna, come. Have a sip," Aion said to her, breaking his sister from her reverie. She peeks through the gaps of her fingers and eyes at the bronze cup. Then, her pupils dilated to Borgin who had chafed his hands together. She frowns at him, sceptically peeping back at the cup and shook her head.
"I'm not drinking whatever is in that," she answered. It was clearly not water or any medicinal concoction as there wasn't any herb smell to it. And it was certainly too murky to be water or tea, there was just a metallic odour to it that made Aine feel even sick.
Draco took the cup of mysterious liquid and gave it a whiff, he jerks away from the unpleasant smell and nearly gagged from it. "I'm sorry, what is this?" he asks, showing Borgin the drink he had prepared.
The store owner suddenly looked very timid when Aine glared at him. He swallowed before responding. "It's— It's... J- just some tea!" he stutters, not sounding very confident at all. "And a teaspoon of honey," he added.
"I'm still not drinking that, I'm sorry," Aine refutes kindly as Draco handed the older man the 'tea' back. He cringed when he caught another sniff of the drink. "I don't need anything, love. I'm fine now..." she remarked to Draco who softens. "I promise," she reassures him with a smile.
Draco made sure Aine had calmed down before she spoke about what had happened. While both his mother and Aion went checking around the massive shop, he took a seat next to her. They were all waiting for the rest of their 'comrades' to arrive. He then asks, "What did you see, Aine?"
"A young man playing with a green pendant and a woman with a ginger wig proudly boasting of a golden goblet..." Aine told him and Draco furrows at the description. She opened her lips again, as if wanting to say more but was hesitant.
"What else?"
"The sounds of screeching glass, whistling steam and hissing voices playing all at once. The chaos that pierced my ears," she winces. Her ears had suffered quite a bit of shock from all that mayhem. Aine wrecked her mind, there was an uneasy feeling that made her insides churn. She pictured back the young man in her vision, it was a gut feeling but she had found him familiar. Yet, she couldn't quite place her finger on it without any proof.
She peered up from her seat, taking the time to scan her surroundings. There were dark artefacts at every crevice of the shop, ranging from the most disturbing things Aine has ever seen in her life. Some were even creepy to be staring at for a long time, and others had an ominous vibe to them. There was an array of evil-looking masks lined up on the wall above, and as the girl stood up to explore, it felt like she was being watched by them. Those empty sockets of the mask stared right through her darkened soul.
Draco ambled behind her, they had time to spare before the others arrives. The pair roamed around Borgin and Burkes, identifying objects and searching for things that were useful to them.
There were many unusual products being exhibited around— varying from candles that had the structure of a human spine, an assortment of human bones forming a chandelier piece that hung above their heads, a stack of bloodied playing cards that Aine didn't want to know whose blood it was, spiked instruments that had been tarnished, a serpent cane with centipedes on its handles, some torture coffin with nails within, frosted jars encasing what seemed like elf skulls, a couple of wooden sculptures carved to mimic ancient beings, copper urns where muffled whispers could be heard when passing by, horns of certain creatures, a staring glass eyeball which reminded Aine of Alastor Moody's rotating eye, and many more freaky momentos.
Most of them had layers of dust settled over them, be it on cabinets, glass displays or even on the pieces themselves. If there's one thing in common most of the items had, it was how badly maintained they were. It almost seemed as if neither of the store owners really care for the cleanliness of their products. Nor do they have the intention to preserve their quality of them, either they were afraid of touching them in fear of being cursed or killed, or they just simply couldn't be bothered to.
As she passed by a large arch ornate mirror, from the side of her eyes, she found herself snapping towards the faded glass. For a second, it was not her reflection that she had seen passing by. It wasn't herself that she had seen looking back at her.
It was the sight of Tom Riddle in his teenage years, the original appearance of the Dark Lord when he was more humane than a snake. It was the face of the handsome perfect boy she had seen in the Chamber of Secrets in her first year at Hogwarts, perhaps more mature for his features had slightly altered a little. He had adorned a black suit, his jet-black hair had been gelled to the side and the corner of his lips had curled. However, it did not enhance his striking features. Instead, he had appeared deadly and his dark orbs had seemed calculative.
Then it struck Aine, that's who she had been reminded of. The boy in the vision she had was the Dark Lord, himself. She took a shallow intake of breath and tore her gaze away only to be found by Borgin eyeing her again, he even looked amused by her astonishment. She squinted at him and the man dipped away, that was when she whipped back to the mirror.
However, the reflection of Voldemort had already disappeared, like he wasn't even there in the first place. It must be just an illusion... Aine bewitches herself to think, though her heart only remained racing. She gripped her arms inside her cloak and plodded away to Draco's side.
Draco raised his grey orbs to an exceptionally well-kept wooden case residing inside a glass cabinet. Resting on a dark velvet green tray in the case was a beautiful old necklace, bezels of opal stones strung together with dark silver filigree plates. He scrutinises the piece, charmed by the beauty of the necklace.
Aine's attention was also caught by it when she approached Draco. "Well, isn't that a stunning necklace?" she mentioned nonchalantly, enticed by the jewellery. She followed the warning note next to it. In bold, it states:
DO NOT TOUCH!
Cursed. Has claimed the lives of nineteen Muggle owners to date!
"It is an opal necklace, my young lord and lady!" Borgin blurted behind them.
"A cursed necklace," Draco commented and the shop owner nodded.
"It has been notorious for causing the lives of many souls! The necklace is said to corrupt anyone's mind who touches it with their skin," he noted, rambling on the history of the piece and what catastrophe it could cause. By the time he was done explaining about it, both Aine and Draco could tell that the man had become desperate to sell it. It was an expensive artefact and all Borgin could think of was how much he could earn by ridding it.
Both Aine and Draco's interests were piqued after hearing the tales, it was a wicked and savage piece of jewellery. They thought that the necklace had aligned well with their list of options that could be helpful in their mission— A potential weapon. Wanting to look at it up close in person, Borgin had taken the case out from the showcase and opened the box for them to inspect it further.
Using his wand, Draco levitated the piece, making sure he doesn't touch it with his bare hands. The necklace hovered around in the air as he and Aine perused it from all angles. Even though it had killed nineteen muggles to date, the necklace was in top-notch condition, there wasn't a single scratch on the stone's surface and the metal wasn't rusty as well.
After contemplating side by side, Draco nodded to Aine. He finally spoke again, "We'll take it."
"A most judicious decision, my young lord!" Borgin beamed, elated that he had sold something for the day. He had been worried about not being able to sell the cursed necklace especially since it keeps returning back to his store by customers who had once purchased it and experienced the horrors of the jewellery first-hand. He eyes the pouch of coins Draco had brought out, a hungry grin cemented on his face, greed overtaking his mind. There were almost enough Galleon coins to overflow from his hands.
The owner began counting the payment, drooling at the shiny gold coins like a Niffler. When both Draco and Aine had glanced away, Borgin took his chance to nick some coins from the pouch and stuffed them in his pockets secretly.
Thinking no one had noticed, he stole another coin after counting the thirteenth, only for Aion to come at him from behind. The younger lad rests his arm on Borgin's shoulders, waving at him innocently with a smile painted on his face.
"Accio," Aine's brother cast, pointing his wand at Borgin. Instantly, five coins shot out from the older man's pockets and scattered across the wooden panels on the ground, clinking until only silence followed. "Now, now... Stealing, are we?" he interjected, waving at the coins he had stolen as it floats back onto the counter, dropping them in front of Borgin's face.
"My goodness, Mr Borgin!" Narcissa gasped at the man's audacity, she strutted down the stairs after witnessing the act. Anger laced her voice when she scolded the man. She glares down at Borgin, disappointed and revolted by his morals.
"Madam Malfoy! I- I did not mean to offend you— I did not mean to st—"
"Steal?" Aine finishes for him, her voice low and dangerous when she exposes him.
Borgin's eyes widened when he saw a glinting object pushed against his neck, he shrieks, shaking in fright. Aion, Draco and Narcissa were shocked when Aine held a sleek knife she had found laying sadly on top of a mantle earlier. She places it against Borgin's skin, smirking as her golden irises clouded, reminding everyone in the shop of someone they had all feared. "My- My lady—!" he stammered.
Aine's fingers caressed the slim handle, it was cooling to the touch and the weight of the object was just nice. It was sleeker than most blades she had seen, resembling a mixture of a throwing knife and a letter opener. The blade's tip was pointy and sturdy at the same time, and sharp. "Well?" she mused.
"No, I- I—!" the old man began to fumble over his words, thinking of excuses but his mind was too disrupted by the blade grazing his nape. When he felt a tinge of a sting, he became more terrified, darting towards the other three customers who merely wait for his reasons to justify his actions. None of them showed any sympathy for him but had been bewildered by how Aine was acting. Even so, they allowed the girl to do as she pleases. "My young lady! The knife! That is no ordinary knife!"
Aine gave a small chuckle, "Nothing here is quite ordinary, is it, Mr Borgin?" she retorts back, playing with the elegant knife. She added a bit more force, creating a faint red line on the man's neck.
"That knife is dangerous! Please put it down! Or I... I will...!"
The girl's heart pounded with excitement, she cocks her head to the side, "Hmm? Will what you do, Mr Borgin? Will you kill me?"
"Lianna, perhaps that's enough—"
"Relax, brother. I'm simply just having some fun! I won't actually kill him... Or will I?"
A burst of laughter escaped from Aine's lips, she didn't know why it was giving her such a thrill. She couldn't even think, let alone know why she was acting this way. Her mind churns with the fact that she had already murdered one poor man back then, doing it again should be easy right?
"That knife has been forged with a fragment of the Reaper's scythe! It's deadly! Pl... Please have mercy!" Borgin begs, tears forming at the edge of his wrinkled eyes. All signs of the greedy old man were gone, replaced by one who was pleading with his life.
"A knife made from Death's scythe?" she repeated, intrigued. Her eyes fluttered down to it, she concentrated on the distinct colour of the blade. White silver melted into an asher grey, creating a silky metallic marble effect. And on the handle, there were inscriptions carved on it with Spider Lilies flower motifs.
Borgin nodded furiously, he blabbered on a bit of the background of the blade out of instinct. His face was drained of colour and his teeth chattering with terror. His pupils wavered across his shop as if he had seen a ghost.
"I'll make you a deal, Mr Borgin," Aine states, "I'm going to let you go and in return, you will no longer steal or lose your integrity to your greed. Or else..." she teases again, driving the blade even deeper into his flesh and he bleated. "This lovely knife will cut even deeper next time," she cautions.
"Take it! You can take it, my lady! It's free for you! I no longer wish to keep it!" Borgin cried. At this point, he didn't care about losing such a rare artefact, nor how much he could possibly gain from selling the precious item. He wanted rid of the dagger and did not want it in his shop ever again. It had been plaguing his mind and as soon as the knife tasted his blood, he could see the loitering souls in his store. Souls of the damn who had lost to the blade at every corner, their eyes locking onto his as they inched closer to him, wanting his very life in exchange.
Aine gave a sullen look at his answer, she sighs and pulled away from him. Taking a cloth from the counter, she cleaned the blade of the blood and places the knife back on its scabbard. "Now it looks like I forced you to give me this blade," she said with a sad pout.
"Not at all, lady! It suits you well!" Borgin countered, "You deserve to have it and I will be eternally grateful if you can accept it as a token of my apology! I shall never steal anymore! I promise!"
The girl simpers sweetly, "If you say it like that then I shall accept the gift with a gracious heart!" she responded.
Borgin took one final bow and quickly scampered off with the knife trembling in his hands to pack it alongside the Cursed opal necklace.
"You always surprise me, love," Draco muttered to Aine, her behaviour from earlier came out of the blue. A part of him was impressed with how well she handled the situation but he had also been a little perturbed by her coldness and ruthlessness.
"Do I?" Aine asks.
"Of course," Draco places a small peck on her temples and smiled at her.
Not long later, the bell on the door had rung as a group of familiar faces entered. All were wearing black from head to toe with their masks removed. Bellatrix Lestrange emerged from the party and grinned at her sister. Next to her, stood Cal and Aine immediately rolled her eyes. She cursed under her breath and glared at the younger Deatheater who smirked in her direction.
Once everyone had gathered in Borgin and Burkes, the owner of the shop had returned, appearing gaunter than ever. It had been a rough night for him and all he wanted was to close the shop after the group finishes their appointment. Then, he would take a day off for himself.
He mentally prepared himself before leading the Estoileon siblings, Malfoys, Bellatrix, Cal, Carrows and Fenrir Greyback to the second floor to resume their night rendezvous.
When the windowed door flung open as they entered the second floor, Cal blew a whistle at the sight.
Aine's eyes landed on the artefact that had an indescribably foreboding aura to it. It stood tall right in the centre of the room, the angular furniture with ornate locks on each stained wooden wall.
This was what they were all here for...
The Vanishing Cabinet.
─── ⋆⋅☀⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☀⋅⋆ ───
A rather long chapter, but then again. I feel like this book will have longer chapters compared to the previous books because there is just so much to write and I didn't want to omit any details! What do you guys think? Do you prefer longer chapters or shorter ones?
Also, not sure if you got those hints scattered in this chapter... Not only Harry has a connection with the Dark Lord, but Aine shares it as well! So do keep reading on to find out why she has it~
Then again, I apologize for the delayed update! I've been down with a really bad flu and cough and it just makes me feel so sluggish all day long. I hope all of you are doing well and do upvote if you enjoyed this chapter and stay safe, my loves!
- Zeneria