Shadows Between Shelves
After listening to Einjard's story, Fleamont's face hardened, his eyes burning with restrained fury, while Euphemia, at his side, showed evident worry for Sirius's life in prison.
"Einjard," said Fleamont gravely, staring at the goblin with seriousness.
But before he could add anything, the goblin cut him off quickly.
"No. We only sell information, nothing more," he replied firmly, fully aware of what the old man intended to ask.
"I know. But even if I don't have the money to pay you, I still remember many potion recipes that could be worth a fortune," answered Fleamont, trying to appeal to the natural greed of goblins.
The goblin scoffed with disdain.
"Hmph. Even if I agreed, do you really think wizards would believe evidence delivered by a goblin? I have no interest in dealing with humans. Why do you think I keep disguised as a guard? To avoid attending to those so-called pure-blood witches and wizards."
As he pronounced those words, he spat to the side in disgust, as if the very title were ridiculous.
"If several families want Sirius Black to remain in prison, they'll spend far more money than what a few recipes are worth. Even his own family might be involved… especially that old man hiding in his castle," he added with irritation.
Sally, who had been listening in silence, could not help but intervene.
"Then why did you help me if you don't like dealing with humans?" she asked curiously. After all, he had told her the true value of her gold, something that didn't fit the greedy image he had shown earlier when staring at Harry's vault.
Einjard frowned and looked at her sternly.
"It's different. A deal sealed in blood… and because of where that gold comes from," he replied, unwilling to say more.
Sally wanted to insist, but seeing the goblin's closed expression, she realized she would get nothing else. So she changed her approach.
"That's why you helped Harry, isn't it? By giving him a key and bringing him here without his magical guardian." She paused, then tested the waters: "So… if I give you another ingot, will you have to help me too?"
The goblin's annoyance was obvious, and for a moment he seemed ready to lash out at her. Yet his words proved otherwise.
"Yes," he said seriously, restraining his displeasure.
Fleamont and Euphemia exchanged puzzled looks, not understanding what gold she was referring to. Sally, however, finally grasped how special those ingots Harry's grandmother had left truly were. They weren't just money, but keys—opportunities for aid, powerful alliances with those who controlled the flow of wealth in the wizarding world.
A warm smile curved her lips as a gentle heat filled her chest.
"How far do you intend to help us…?" she murmured almost to herself.
At that moment, she understood that the promise of caring for Harry as protection for Percy had never been the true limit. Perhaps Harry's grandmother had known she would raise him as her own son, and had prepared everything so her new family would not suffer. What looked like a simple gesture of support hid something far greater: a silent help that accompanied every step they took.
And still, Sally couldn't see how far that protection reached. When they promised to guard her children, it felt like something absolute. A total protection… so vast that it could only come from the hands of a goddess.
…
"Mom, I want this book," said Harry with enthusiasm as he wandered through the bookstore, eyes shining as he scanned the shelves. Unlike Percy, for whom the words seemed to slither across the pages like snakes and made reading difficult, Harry found the books fascinating—especially those about magical creatures. He was already planning to show them to his brother and explain what they said.
Percy, on the other hand, browsed with no particular interest. He opened a book at random, and a face suddenly leapt out, screaming at him. He jumped back and slammed the book shut, drawing startled looks from the people around. With a sheepish grin, he placed the volume back on the shelf and walked over to see what Harry was picking out.
Some books were of magical tales, others of fantastic creatures, and a few of grand adventures. One in particular caught Percy's eye: its cover showed a boy with glasses and a scar on his forehead, just like his brother.
Percy tilted his head, puzzled.
"Look, Percy, it's me!" Harry said happily when he noticed what his brother was staring at.
"What are you talking about?" Percy asked, confused.
"It says 'The Adventure of Harry Potter,'" Harry replied with delight.
Sally, watching them from nearby, grew thoughtful. She still hadn't figured out how to explain to her children that Harry was famous in this world.
"Don't be silly, Harry. You don't have a dragon as a mount," Percy said, pointing at the image on the cover.
"Hmm… then maybe it's just someone with the same name as me," Harry murmured, reconsidering.
Sally smiled softly. She knew that sooner or later she would have to tell him the truth.
"Will there be a book with my name on it?" Percy asked curiously.
"I don't know. We'll have to look," Harry replied, and both of them took off running between the shelves.
Meanwhile, Sally went to pay for the books her children had gathered. She also picked out a few cookbooks and stopped at the potion section.
"Maybe I could try making some… they say they can cure almost anything. It would be good to have them if the boys get hurt. I could learn how to brew them," she thought as she scanned the titles.
The sounds of Percy and Harry echoed nearby, though they never strayed far from her sight.
Sally reached for a volume, but her hand collided with someone else's. She turned and found herself face-to-face with a man with long blond hair, dressed in an elegant black robe. His expression was haughty and repulsive. When he realized his hand had brushed against Sally's, he recoiled in disgust, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped it with exaggerated movements, as though he had touched something filthy.
"Oh, sorry," said Sally, thinking he might be one of those obsessive germophobes, though inwardly she was annoyed at his ridiculous behavior.
"Hmph. Be careful, filthy mudblood. Don't go around contaminating everything you touch," he sneered with contempt. He abandoned the idea of taking the book Sally had touched and looked her up and down, taking in her simple clothing. He raised an eyebrow as he recognized her as the woman he had seen at the Leaky Cauldron.
"You should know your place," he added coldly. Then his gaze shifted to Percy and Harry, who were happily running among the shelves, touching books at random. His expression twisted into a grimace of repugnance.
"This place is filling up with disgusting things," he muttered before tossing the handkerchief to the floor and striding toward the exit.
Yet before leaving, he cast one last long, fixed look at Sally—heavy, deliberate, and full of veiled intent—that made her shiver. There was a threat in his eyes. Nervously, Sally hurried back to her children.
At that moment, Percy had found a book with his own name, but since reading was difficult for him, it took him a while to decipher the title: Percy Jackson: First Dragonborn. He didn't have time to read further; his mother's urgent call made him abandon the book and run toward her.
Sally grabbed both her sons by the hands and quickly left the bookstore, walking briskly toward the Leaky Cauldron. Her gaze darted from side to side, nervous, searching for any sign of danger among the crowd in Diagon Alley. Her heart pounded in her chest; the memory of that man's last look clung to her like a shadow.
She quickened her pace, gently pushing Percy and Harry to move faster, though she tried to hide her unease from them. Harry held tightly onto one of the books he had chosen, while Percy kept glancing back at the shop windows, not understanding his mother's nervousness.
Sally was just beginning to relax as she spotted the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron—when she felt it: a presence, sharp and unyielding. Discreetly turning her head, she caught sight of a figure standing in a narrow alley. It was a man dressed entirely in black. Hidden in the shadows, he stared straight at her with a twisted, unpleasant smile, as if he had been waiting all along.
Sally's stomach tightened, and without thinking, she clutched her children's hands more firmly. With hurried steps, she crossed the threshold of the Leaky Cauldron, not daring to look back.
Once inside the bustling tavern, she finally released a shaky sigh. The murmur of conversations, the bursts of laughter, and the clinking of mugs gave her a false sense of safety. Here, she thought, no one would be foolish enough to attack them in public.
Still, she didn't let her guard down. Instead of stopping to rest, she walked straight through the tavern and exited out the front door into the Muggle world. At least there, she knew, no witch or wizard would dare use magic openly.
"Are we going home already, Mom?" Harry asked, confused by how quickly they had left the alley.
"Yes, sweetheart. It's time to go back. Another day we'll come again more calmly," Sally answered with a smile that was meant to be reassuring, though tension still lingered on her face.
"I see… what a pity," Harry murmured, lowering his head. Percy nodded silently, resigned, though it was clear he too had wanted to keep exploring Diagon Alley.
The little family of three vanished into the Muggle crowd, unaware of the detail hidden from their eyes: for just a moment, Percy's and Harry's necklaces glowed faintly, repelling a dark force that had tried to reach them. A shadow, frustrated, slipped away into the corners of the Leaky Cauldron.