The Grants Artefacts

03 A Wizard Comes For A Drink

A wizard comes for a drink

On the third day, Burke made it his business to be out of London. It was a grey and dismal November afternoon. Wet brown leaves found it important to stick to the small warped glass pains of the upstairs windows. The shop, freshly cleaned and painted by Arundel, was empty save for an occasional haunting presence brought about by the cursed Grant's Sword. Although the sword was contained by Arundel's charmed bag, It had grown board haunting the inside and wanted to expand out into the shop. It was too weak a presence to do much more than slamming a few doors, make candles flutter and creak the odd floorboard or two. But even that presence was enough to make a shrewd wizard curious, and Burke was as shrewd as they came, she would need to leave here as soon as she could.

At twenty-six minutes past three, the chimney burst green flame. Arundel put down her book, a very battered and often revisited 'History of Magic' and looked up expecting to see Mad Eye. Much to her surprise a taller, older and far more dignified Wizard shook the dust from his foot and bashed out his hat.

"Dumbledore," Arundel sat forward with her mouth hanging open, he'd never come to call on her before.

"I hope you don't mind me dropping in," the Wizard told her. "This new, muggle look is quite becoming, it's very....understated."

She wondered what Dumbledore meant, and caught a glimpse of herself in a shaded mirror. Her hair was long and black, pushed over one shoulder and platted to keep it from her face. Her nose was slightly upturned, eyes were dark black, eyebrows and cheekbones were high and lips that were only fashionable in the twenty's, with slight wrinkles in the smile lines. She didn't think she was that good looking, but she had never been told she was ugly. Today she had a purple and black jumper on, with leggings and ankle warmers. The Jumper had sleeves so long she had to roll them up, and the body was so baggy that it reached her knees.

"I'm cold," she shrugged, "And the shops closed."

"Are you working here again?"

"I don't think I ever stopped," she laughed. "It's been a long time Headmaster. Last time I saw you I sold you a scrying bowl, didn't I?"

"Pensieve, It's been very useful."

"Did Mad Eye tell you where I was?"

Dumbledore nodded, "He didn't want to talk to you, he asked I come instead."

"I'm hurt," Arundel pulled her sleeves up, "Do you want a cup of tea?"

"No, but I would like a small glass of brandy. I know Messrs Borgin and Burke have a fantastic selection."

"You'll have to wait whilst I get past some devils ivy."

Dumbledore wasn't to be put off, so Arundel left him in the living room, returned to the shop, opened the trap door and cast Lumos to push it into the corner as she pulled a bottle of brandy from the shelves and climbed back out again. In the living room, she poured for both of them and sank down onto the sofa opposite the Hogwarts Headmaster. "So," she said.

"So," he echoed.

They both drank, keeping direct eye contact, each closing off their thoughts from the other whilst simultaneously trying to pry for information. Arundel couldn't take the silence and broke it first, "What's Moody told you?"

"He thinks you're a traitor, he's very displeased."

"Oh?" Arundel rolled her eyes. "He's so dramatic. Both sides think that. I never got involved in politics. I didn't spy."

"That I find remarkable. The Dark Lord didn't take kindly to nonchalance for his cause. You're as nonchalant as they come but somehow he didn't take offence to that. You must have been doing something of great value for him."

"I was a necessary evil, I suppose, for both sides. Don't forget Dumbledore the ministry had no option but to treat me the same."

"It must have been exhausting," Dumbledore chuckled indulgently, but she couldn't tell if he was mocking her or admiring her.

Arundel raised her glass, "I'm still here."

"You could have been a valuable soldier in our order, I remember how your teachers were in awe of you at Hogwarts. We had such high expectations and yet you have done nothing remarkable or memorable. Even the laziest of wizards had the opportunity to shine during our recent dark times."

"Oh, don't do that Albus. Emotional bullying isn't your style. I'm happy with my choices."

Albus Dumbledore said nothing, it wasn't clear if he was surprised, amused or annoyed by what she had said. She watched him for clues but didn't find any. "Moody was very upset," he reiterated with a wagging finger.

"Because I have something to sell, but he thinks I should give it away out of what? Duty?"

"I believe you have it in this room? I keep seeing a hopefully ghoulish apparition in the mirror and every so often something blows across the back of my neck."

Arundel grinned, "Did Moody tell you how much I want?"

Dumbledore waved her into silence. "Why don't you sell the whole lot to the American Society of Black Wizardry? Death eaters in all but name, an unpleasant lot to work with, just your kind of people."

"Maybe I will."

"And yet you came to the Auras?"

"Maybe I get more money for selling them separately."

Arundel sipped her port and considered very carefully how truthful she wanted to be. She remembered how Dumbledore had been close to Grindelwald once, as much as he cultivated the look of a wonderful, charming, good-natured old man he was just as sneaky and underhanded as she was, and just as willing to flirt with dark magic. If anybody would understand the game she was playing it would be him.

"Before I speak to you, drink this-" she pulled a bottle from her bag. Dumbledore took it and held it up to the light. Without asking what it was he poured the whole bottle into his mouth and swallowed, it was very trusting of him and actually touched her deeply that he would put his life in her hands like that. After a few seconds, he hiccuped and smoke came out of his ears, but nothing else happened, he didn't turn back into anybody else. Satisfied, Arundel carried on speaking. "My code is simple, If I sell to one side I sell something of equal power or value to the other. A group of angry wizards with the Grant's Artefacts could pose a real threat so soon after the war. I see this as restoring balance."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and he started laughing. "You make me drink poison to tell me a lie."

"I'm offering the Ministry Grants Sword, and I will reclaim the other two, for a cost of course, and should the ministry be willing to pay I'll give you the names of the Americans with the other artefacts as you need them all together to destroy them."

"How old are you now?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why?"

"So jaded for somebody so young," the old man sighed. "So driven by commerce, have you no notion of Duty?"

"I'm a businesswoman." Arundel snapped. "Duty won't pay my rent."

"If that's what concerns you I have a job at the school; Care of Magical Creatures. Come to Hogsmeade for a job interview if you wish." Dumbledore stood up and from his pocket he drew out a pipe. "We won't buy the sword from you, Arundel," he said, and with that, he lit his pipe, chucked flue powder into the fire and walked into the flames. She stood watching the hearth with her mouth open and then very slowly she extended her middle finger and snarled.