To an Unsolicited Mind [t.r]

1. Chiara

June 1945
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Staring up at the old wooden sign that read 'Borgin & Burkes', it creaked on old metal hooks as the summer breeze passed through the space between buildings. Even as summer reared its head, Knockturn Alley had a dark atmosphere hanging over the old, cramped streets. The cobblestone streets were uneven, long, and winding. If any regular happened to stumble upon this side, they'd get lost within minutes.

That is, if they aren't mugged first.

Tom snickered at the idea of some imbecile teen finding themselves away from Diagon Alley. Perhaps they would enter the darker streets on a dare, hoping to impress their friends. They'd be gone in minutes. The residents of Knockturn Alley could smell new blood a mile away. Tom himself had made his presence known during his early schoolboy years. When he was thirteen, the Malfoy's had taken him to get his school supplies. Along with that, Abraxas' father made a detour to the exact shop Tom was currently standing in front of.

He could remember the first time his eyes soaked in his surroundings, the dark magic practically dripped off these streets and it was intoxicating... addictive. Every summer after that, Tom diverted from the lighter, bustling shops of Diagon Alley and ventured for something new and exciting.

Knockturn Alley never disappointed.

That being said, he could admit there should be a thorough cleaning, at least at the drafty antique shop he worked at every weekday. He observed the dusty windows for a moment longer before finally walking inside, the door squeaking in agitation on its hinges. An old man, Caractacus Burke, was sitting at the front counter, a steaming cup of tea in front of him that was undoubtedly spiked, as he was reading the morning paper. Wooden floorboards creaked as Tom made his way through the shop, weaving between different objects that either stood or hung at odd angles.

He knew to side step a skull that jutted out oddly, it was common for people to bump into said artefact.

Mr. Burke looked up, a monocle wedged against his eye under a white bushy eyebrow. "You're early," he hummed as he looked at his pocket watch, though it was broken. Smiling politely, Tom shrugged off his satchel and placed it in the cabinet meant for employees. "You said you had paperwork to attend to today, correct? I thought why not come in early and man the shop so you can get a head start."

"You're quite the suck-up," Mr. Burke chuckled as he took another sip of tea. Tom rolled his shoulders in annoyance. However the image of throwing his boss off a bridge calmed his nerves. Only a bit.

In all due time, Tom assured himself.

Mr. Burke was a greedy man, though not ambitious. Which is greatly part of the reason he hired Tom. Old age had caused him to lose his salesman charisma, and not to mention the man was insufferably lazy. Alas his savior walked in, Tom was young, charming, and had an elegant way with words. His main job was to research and acquire items for the store, though Tom had his own agenda.

In the month since he began working at the old antique shop, sales had risen exponentially.

Eventually after about an hour and a half, Mr. Burke had to force himself out of his chair and head into his office upstairs. The only downside to sales increasing was there was a growth in tedious paperwork.

It was Wednesday so it wasn't busy, the work day rarely was.

There were two typical categories for the customers Borgin & Burkes attracted; the rich looking for decor and the poor scrambling to make a quick galleon. Tom could recall all the desperation on their impoverished faces as they attempted to sell him some 'rare' artefact. Mr. Burke would be so gullible, but Tom actually did his research and turned away many.