The Raven's Anger

Chapter Nine

Knockturn Alley

"Protection money? And my shop? What are you joking?"

Frankie shook his head. "Of course not sir. However, it would be an awful shame if this lovely store of yours somehow had an accident. Wouldn't it Mikhail?"

"Such a shame. Now we wouldn't want that to happen. Especially when it is so easily avoidable."

Borgin gnashed his teeth and spat at Frankie's feet. "I ain't giving one Knut to filthy muggles such as you two. Your kind are like roaches. Swarming every part of the planet. You-Know-Who will crush your Godfather along with you as well."

Frankie raised an eyebrow. "Well that's a darn pity. I guess we'll have to go to aggressive negotiations."

Mikhail nodded and slammed his fist into Borgin's face. Borgin was knocked on to the ground. He pulled out his wand but Frankie grabbed his wrist and snapped it. Borgin howled in pain but a boot by Mikhail silenced him. Mikhail held Borgin up as Frankie pulled out a length of duct tape. Frankie grabbed a nearby cloth and stuffed it over Borgin's mouth and slapped duct tape over his mouth. Borgin struggled but the big Russian mobster dragged him to a nearby chair and held him down as Frankie tied down his hands and legs with duct tape. When they finished, Frankie strode over to the shop window and replaced the open sign with a close sign. He pulled down all the blinds and smiled to Borgin.

"Now Mr. Borgin, let's start these negotiations again," Frankie said calmly. "Now you agree to pay protection money of a two hundred fifty Galleons a month or sell us this lovely place for the reasonable price of one Galleon. If you don't, we'll be forced to negotiate further."

Borgin screamed as Mikhail cut off the tip of his pinky finger with a pair of pliers, then seared it shut with hot iron. Borgin struggled against his bonds, desperate to escape the pair of mobsters.

"Mr. Borgin, will you pay?" Frankie asked. Borgin shook his head, mostly from pain. Frankie sighed. Mikhail took the pliers and cut off the rest of Borgin's pinky before searing it shut.

"Hurry up Mr. Borgin. The longer you wait, the more pain you will be in," Frankie muttered.

An hour later

Frankie ripped off the duct tape from Borgin. Borgin panted and stared pitifully at Frankie.

"Alright. I'll sign over the deed. Just let me go," Mr. Borgin pleaded. He glanced at his left arm, missing a hand. Frankie nodded and gave him a quill and the deed. Mr. Borgin sighed in relief as the deed glowed, signifying the transfer. Frankie nodded in satisfaction. Mikhail cut off Borgin from his bonds and helped him stand up. Frankie gave Borgin a flask full of Firewhiskey.

"Something to wish you good luck."

"Damn you muggle," Borgin rasped out but drank a mouthful of the flask. He gasped as he felt his insides burn furiously. Borgin looked up at Frankie, confused. Frankie smiled.

"In muggle terms, you were a liability. So you needed to be let go. Catch my drift?" Frankie said cheerfully. Borgin stiffened then everything went nudged the body once before looking at Mikhail.

"The Godfather'll be pleased. This prime piece of property is his now. How are the rest doing?" Frankie asked.

"All the stores gave us the protection money as well as a little more in gratitude for stopping the recent Death Eater attacks," Mikhail muttered. "We've raked in about 20,000 Galleons altogether this month."