Who: Demetrius Mulciber and the oh-so-rebellious Jacqueline Wilkes When: 21 August 1979, Mid-afternoon-ish Where: Borgin & Burkes What: Jacqueline has sneaked into Knockturn Alley during an outing, and unfortunately sneaked into Demetrius' place of employment. They roll their eyes and snark. Rating: PG Status: Complete!
It was hard to be authentic about one's decisions if one really had no idea what was entailed in either option. Jacq knew what her life would be like if she chose to remain the way she was, the thing she was, and to ignore the persistent and uncomfortable pull she felt toward becoming a Death Eater. She did not, however, have the slightest clue what pledging her loyalty to the Dark Lord would mean for her, not in any real and tangible terms. So it was with bated breath that she made excuses to her mother about spending the day reading out-of-doors, then quickly but discreetly disappeared from sight and Disapparated.
Knowing that, as the sister of a known Death Eater, it would be unwise to simply wander around Diagon Alley, she had chosen to appear at the Apparation point on Knockturn. With her heart racing in her chest and her blood beating hard through her veins, she walked down Knockturn Alley and into the first shop she saw, head held high but nails digging discreetly into her palm, leaving four identical crescent marks.
Demetrius sighed. It was one of those rare occasions where he was in the front of the shop, and he was stuck dusting. Well, it was really dusting, it was just replacing the Impervius charms on all the displays so they didn't accumulate dust. Borgin and Burkes didn't get all that much patronage, really. Due to the nature of the items sold, a lot of purchases were done via owl post. Sometimes, he wondered how the shop even stayed in business. But he resigned himself to not knowing the answer to that question, and simply continued examining a shrunken head on a shelf.
Borgin and Burkes wasn't a wonderful place to work, really. It wasn't even a great shop to visit. Demetrius knew for a fact that it was an ill-reputed shop (for good reason) and that working there would likely make people more suspicious of him. Though he didn't mind, it's not as if he'd be running meaningless errands for the two misers for a lot longer. He only vaguely hoped that they didn't drop dead before he could resign. Being rather absorbed in his musings, he moved away from the shrunken heads and towards a book shelf of rather sinister looking books.
The weak bell rang above her head as she entered, and she frowned up at it, not wanting to be introduced. Her eyes took in everything at once, sliding over the dingy shelves with the absolutely terrifying assorted objects, not able to form a coherent thought about a single one of them. Still, her face remained neutral and she stepped inside, stopping a bit short when she saw Demetrius. She hadn't expected someone she knew, no matter how vaguely, to be there. Well, there went her cover story about looking for something to make her sister violently ill. Couldn't have that rumour going around.
Demetrius turned at the sound of the bell, and instantly raised an eyebrow. One of the Wilkes twins was in Borgin and Burkes? That seemed odd to him, but then again he wouldn't claim to know anything about Jacqueline or her twin, he had known Georgina from school, but hadn't really bothered getting to know her sisters. Still, it was uncommon for anyone from society to come into Borgin and Burkes, and especially not a lady of society. "If you're looking to buy something, I can fetch Mr. Burke," he told her, straightening up from the display.
"No, no, I just got...turned around." She tucked a bunch of hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, but I was walking by and I thought maybe this might be a good place to look for the rather old book of charms I'm looking for." Her eyes swept the room again, her face and tone carefully controlled. "That doesn't seem to be the stock and trade here, though."
"You didn't disturb me, I was just...cleaning," he said lamely. He found it difficult to be suspicious of an eighteen-year-old, and just turned and looked at the small shelf of books behind him. "I doubt you'd find what you're looking for here," he said. She had probably just wandered into Knockturn Alley by mistaken or something, it happened to younger people a lot. Though usually their parents ran after them screaming and dragged them back into Diagon Alley. "But if you're interested in a shrunken head or a hand of glory," he joked, gesturing to the display on the far wall.
Her eyes followed his hand, an eyebrow cocking as she took in the display. "And what, praytell, is the purpose of a hand of glory?"
"Brings light to only the holder," he explained with a slight smirk.
She tilted her head to the side, her inquisitive nature getting the best of her as she walked over to get a closer look. "Well, that's useful."
Crossing his arms, he leaned against a nearby counter. "It is," he agreed. "I was sorely tempted to buy it when Mr. Borgin told me what it did. Obviously, I didn't. But I considered it."
She looked back at him over her shoulder, a bit of a smile in her eyes, though her heart still hammered nervously. Of course, the thrill of the possibility of getting caught was so novel that it was almost enjoyable. "And what's the use of the shrunken heads?"
He considered this for a second. "I don't think they actually have a use," he said. "Decoration, maybe. But I never really asked. Maybe they have some latent magical property?" he suggested, shrugging slightly. Shrunken heads weren't remotely fascinating.
She turned back around, wrinkling her nose delicately. "Decoration? What an...interesting aesthetic." A twitch of her robes was all she allowed herself to release some nervous tension, though what she really wanted to do was run full-speed from the room. Demetrius' presence was agitating rather than soothing, as she thought of what he might let out. "Let's hope so, then."
"Some people have very strange taste. Maybe they hang them up to scare little girls away from places that little girls shouldn't be," he hinted, looking at Jacqueline skeptically.
She caught the not-too-subtle hint, her eyebrow cocking coolly again while she controlled the rest of her face carefully. "If I see any little girls, I'll be sure to let them know, then."
It took quite a bit of will to keep himself from laughing at her. "I'm sure there's a mirror around here somewhere," he noted, looking around.
It took a bit more will-power than she had expected to maintain her composure at his teasing. "I'm sorry, I was unaware that they had changed the age of majority. I understood myself to have been an adult for more than a year now."
"You're a very serious person," he said, cocking an eyebrow at her. "I'm well aware that you're an adult. But that doesn't change the fact that you're still too young to be wandering about without an escort of some sort."
She had to concede his point, no matter how loathe she was to do so. Tilting her chin proudly, she smoothed her hair behind her ear again and glanced out into the alley. "Well, as I said, it was pure accident that I'm here. And I'll be going, then, if you find my presence so unseemly."
He rolled his eyes. "If you think I'm going to ask you to stay, then you can leave. I was just saying that you- a respectable pureblood girl- shouldn't be wandering around alone in times like these. Especially not in Knockturn Alley. So it would be best for you to not be seen here."
"Why on earth would you ask me to stay?" She said, her face for a moment a picture of confusion. If she had said she was going to leave and it was obvious that it was inappropriate for her to be there in the first place, than what would she expect him to ask her to stay? It didn't occur to her that some women would have used the opportunity for leverage through guilt, to make Demetrius feel poorly for having offended her.
"Your tone suggested you were only leaving because I told you it wasn't appropriate for you to be here," he explained. "Sometimes people say things with the intent of getting people to contradict them." He stroked his chin thoughtfully and looked from her to the door.
"I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean."
"Good on you," he quipped, his voice lightly tinged with sarcasm.
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she instead swept them over him imperiously and then began to walk to the door. "Good afternoon, then, Demetrius."
"Good afternoon, Jacqueline," he retorted, relatively relieved at the thought that she was finally leaving.