Darkness Within.

[Jane Anwyl-Beaumanoir]

The night sky was a torrent of dark cumulus clouds swirling about over head. Lightning flashed across the sky as Jane stood outside her store. Her pink hair whipped about in the wind making her grimace at the thought of pulling a brush through it. Her bright green eyes glanced down Knockturn Alley, watching the people walk by. Most by her standards looked very shabby. Their clothes had seen better days and the smell that came from them was worse. Wrinkling her nose Jane turned her back to the people and walked back into her store.

The bell tinkled as she entered, the light musical sound making a small smile appear on her face. Most people get up in the morning and groan about going to work. Jane on the other hand reveled at the thought of working. She didn't need the money. Her parents left her a good amount of money when they went to jail. After her guardian passed away she was in full control of her life, fortune, and mostly her dealings. Jane wasn't someone of suspicion of any sort. She was just another girl with a tragic past. You couldn't do anything but feel bad for such a sweet and tender girl. When people would pat her hand and tell her everything is alright she would nod, but inside she would be rolling her eyes in boredom from their pity.

She walked around the counter and plopped down on a chair. Resting her chin on her hands she blew her bangs out of her eyes, waiting for someone, anyone to come into her store. Today had been very slow. People hadn't been coming out much anymore. With the school year in session most people who would come in (children to be exact) were at Hogwarts. her usual customers came and went with their usual purchases. No one new. No one to keep her on her toes.

(Closed - Robert Shaw)

[Robert Shaw]

He had been watching the store for a good time now and once again the daylight hours had come and gone with little to show for them. Going unseen hadn't been all too challenging today either; it never was in Knockturn Alley. Everyone trusted everyone to some degree of unwritten law, if you belonged everyone knew, if you didn't, everyone assessed you in their own way. The short version was that if you were still alive at the end of your excursion, you were fine, if not well clearly someone had a minor disagreement with you. Discretion was what kept Knockturn Alley; Knockturn Alley. It was also what kept anyone with a remote sympathy to the outsiders or less fortunate away.

It was a fickle little place really, tucked away on the outermost fringes of the shadiest strip of land in London. And no one would disagree that its outward appearance seemed as though it should undertake a ninety degree turn. It brought them into the alley. It brought the sympathizers, the non-believers, the cowards and most unwelcome of all the filthy mudbloods themselves. It was attracting all of those whom he opposed while still maintaining the interest of those upon the proper side of things, a neutral item in what could only at most be a semi-neutral patch of earth. This would require a proper meeting with proper words. Clearly allegiances needed determining and risks assessed. The last thing this community needed was for the wrongful sort to start infringing where they knew they were far from wanted.

The owner seemed too young in his opinion to be running this establishment solely on her own shoulders, it wasn’t impossible but if she were truly alone in her endeavors than she was doing incredibly well for herself. Her business seemed legitimate, wares what she claimed and nothing more. Nor was she herself habitual in any sense, never arrived or left at any clockwork time, had the same delivery days, nothing was ever predictable about this woman’s actions except for what the months brought. In fact she seemed entirely opposed to the undergrounds in appearance. Now that it was October it brought less business, more boredom and for Robert himself an opportunity he wouldn’t have had prior.

The man of tall height crossed the alley just up from Borgin’s, cloak hood securely pulled above his head to repulse both the evening chill and potentially knowing eyes. The chime above the door announced his arrival and he almost walked back out, almost. It was such a simple security and yet one that could make even the most intricate of intentions go awry. But it was of little concern to him, After all his business this night was far from anything intricate, at best it was informal, at the worst of it the aurors would have a body on their laps in the morning hours.

Robert could only mentally scoff as he surveyed the aisles with a brief gaze; he had little use for supplies. Well, little use beyond tossing them to children in some vague sense of charity while hoping they would become the right kind graffiti on the right someone’s walls. He didn’t make art, he bought it, or he’d used to anyway. If this was all the young woman had to offer than her mind had best to be in all the right places. For her sake he could only hope so…

Stand. Wait. Be serviced. Such was the was the way it should be…