Fraternizing With the Enemy

Chapter 2: The Kiy Shoppe

Fred and George woke Harry and Ron rather loudly at seven o’clock in the morning, just as they’d said they would, rousing Hermione in the process, who had been sleeping in the common room. Ron came storming down the stairs and sat calmly in a chair near the fireplace. His brothers followed him with their stacks of papers, sat at a corner table, and began discussing the day’s business plans. Harry followed shortly after them, dressed rather abruptly, mismatched socks and sweater in hand. He sat down on the bottom step as if to put on his socks, but he didn’t move.

“Umm...Harry?” one of the twins asked.

No response. Hermione, who had just finished lacing up her shoes, walked over to Harry and kicked him lightly on the foot. The boy spluttered as if he had been woken from dozing.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Fell asleep.”

After a bit of chuckling from the twins, they stood and declared that they were prepared to leave.

The five of them were among the first in the Great Hall, others including Draco Malfoy, Cho Chang, and the girl from the train, who was chatting with Pansy Parkinson. By the end of breakfast, however, the girl was gone. Though he noticed this, Harry thought nothing of it and left the Hall with the others.

The entrance hall was packed with students, all of whom were waiting for Professor McGonagall to open the doors and lead them out to the grounds. In but a few minutes she arrived in the form of a small tabby cat with square marks around its eyes. Upon reaching the doors, she transformed into human form and knocked loudly on the doors, commanding silence. She ushered everyone out to the grounds, then closed the doors behind her and led the way down the rocky lake path to the exit gates.

Without warning, a large white eagle-owl swooped low overhead, dropping a scrap of parchment neatly on Fred’s stack of papers. The other twin took it with his free hand and read aloud:

“I will meet you at the Three Broomsticks.”

The note was signed with a single cursive f, in the style of one used to being recognized by a single letter. The tone of the sentence was that of a command, not at all a request or invitation. They would go there to meet her, or she would find them. The latter seemed less pleasant.

Upon arriving in Hogsmeade, they obeyed the message and went to the Three Broomsticks. They immediately spotted the girl sitting in a dim corner, drinking from a small cup. In the eerie light her hair shined bright blue where the light hit it best, falling to a deep black, alive like night but dull like coal, where the light was absent from it. At their approach her icy eyes flicked up to meet each of theirs, causing shivers in all of them, and a thin yet unmistakable smile lifted her lips.

Today she wore a black dress, simple yet seductive all the same. The high neck contrasted sharply with the complete lack of back, and the long flared sleeves contrasted likewise with the short hemline and high white stockings, which were only slightly lighter than her milky complexion. The overall darkness of the dress and thick heels made her skin look even lighter than it already was. All this, and she wore no makeup, save a thin film of generic lip balm.

As the party took seats around the table, the girl leaned forward as if to examine them, causing her long hair to cascade over her shoulders, revealing a twisting green snake tattoo in the crook of her neck and left shoulder. She lifted one hand, nails painted the same strange icy colour of her eyes, and placed it in the center of the table.

“We should go,” she whispered. “She is waiting.”

As she spoke, her eyes flared red and the entire table was engulfed in cold white flame. When the flames diminished, they found themselves in a dim room whose black walls were adorned with cherry wood shelves supporting a great variety of books, bottles, and magical ingredients. On one side of the room stood great wooden cabinets, while on the other were scattered many variously shaped tables. The only source of light came from numerous multicoloured lamps hanging from or sitting on shelves, one on each table, and even a few larger ones on the floor. But for their luminescence, one might miss the small sign hanging on a bare section of wall. Black letters inlaid on a silver plaque read: Dark items available upon request. Aside from the one room there seemed to be no other extensions to the shop. No front desk, no doors, no stairs.

In the center of the charcoal coloured marble floor was a great white star surrounded by many small silver and red stars and crescent moons. In the center of the star seemed to be burning a blue flame, as if the flame itself was encased in marble.

The girl tapped this flame with her fingertips several times until the star itself caught fire, as if she had coaxed that small flame out of its slumber. She took a pouch out of her pocket, reached inside, and sighed before emptying the contents of the pouch into the fire. The shop seemed to brighten a bit as the illusion dissolved to reveal, not only people, but also a spiral staircase, several doors leading to other rooms, and a small table off to one side of the large cabinets, presumably the front desk of sorts.

The five followed the girl up the spiral staircase to a sort of balcony surrounding and overlooking the bottom floor. The walls were lined with bookshelves stretching from floor to ceiling. Each segment of shelves had its own wheeled ladder so customers could reach the top shelves. Higher up on one of these ladders was a female house elf wearing a neat maroon dress. She was taking books from a levitating box and shelving them in their proper places; every now and then she would stop to check the lamps and relight any that may have gone out. As she did this, she caught sight of her employer and waved earnestly, to which the girl responded with a smile and a low bow.

“Welcome back, Miss Frimiare,” the petite elf called.

“It is good to be back, Rika,” the girl replied in her strangely hypnotic melody voice.

Hermione had looked somewhat indignant at first sight of the elf, but seemed satisfied with the courtesy with which the girl treated Rika.

The girl spoke again, this time with less of the hypnotic quality, or were they just getting used to it? “Arkinea is in her room, I trust?” she asked the elf.

“Yes,” Rika replied. “She continues her studies as always.”

“Thank you,” the girl said, opening a door.

She led them to another room, smaller but very similar to the first-floor room. A tight spiral staircase tucked in the corner of the room, as if trying to hide away. They were ushered to the top, which opened into a dim corridor with a single door at the end. As they neared the door in question Harry’s scar began first to prickle and then to burn. When they had reached the door, he let out a small gasp, causing Ron to ask if he was all right, to which Harry replied affirmatively. When the door opened, however, his pain suddenly increased to a sharp stabbing, causing him clutch his head groaning in agony and fall to his knees.

“Release him, Kiy,” the girl whispered.

Sharp clack of heels hitting the floor, then softer clicking footsteps coming ever closer. A hand was laid on Harry’s head and a voice spoke softly from its owner,

“Rise, my puppet, and see the light.”

“He’s not your puppet!” Hermione protested.

George and Ron simultaneously jabbed her in the ribs while Fred shot her a scathing look that said, “You’re not helping the situation.” Meanwhile, Harry rose off the floor, keeping his head bowed to the girl in the room. She brushed the hair out of his face and traced her fingers over the lightning scar on his forehead. Moving her face close to his, she flicked out her tongue to touch it to that scar, tearing another painful moan from Harry’s lips. The girls face contorted oddly, as if he had tasted bad.

“You taste of filth,” she snarled, pushing him away. She turned to the girl who had brought them there, who now bowed her head in submission. “How dare you bring this...thing into my sanctuary!”

The girl in submission said nothing, but looked her master in the eye defiantly. The superior glared back, not even hesitating at the submissive’s cold eyes. No shiver shook her spine; no twitch touched her own cold emerald eyes. After a long while, she smiled a smile that didn’t touch her eyes, and glanced at Harry.

“Very well, Frimiare, you win,” she admitted. “I will release the boy, but he is not welcome here. The others may stay.” She glanced at the twins, smiled again lightly, and held her hand out to them. “Arkinea Sykon. Fred and George Weasley, I presume?”

The twins nodded and shook her hand independently, then followed her into the dark room at her beckoning. At first, it seemed pitch dark as the door closed, but as their eyes adjusted it became apparent that the walls were faintly luminous. Arkinea waved her hand and the ceiling brightened into a perfect replica of the morning sky. Hung on the walls were several small geometric mirrors, reflecting everything from lavender carpet to deep green and violet silk bed linens on a cherry wood frame. The desk, dresser, and night table were of the same dark wood. The mirrors also served to magnify and reflect the light, as the room was devoid of windows or lamps.

Arkinea walked to the desk, leaving the twins standing by the door. She moved a small stained paperback entitled simply Rise to one side and began looking through some papers. Presumably finding what she was looking for, she turned to face them. In her hands was a small white envelope, unsealed, with a green wax stamp on the front.

“I understand that my Frimiare has offered to help you begin your business,” she began calmly. When neither of the twins spoke, she continued. “As you know, I am the principal owner of this establishment, and with Frimiare’s help we have been very successful. You should know that she does not take orders well, and her temper is a force to be reckoned with. If you do not upset her balance, she will be your greatest asset, for what she is capable of may well rival the Dark Lord himself.”

Fred and George nodded in unison.

“Understand this,” Arkinea continued. “Frimiare Mellaria is my sister, my friend, and my dearest possession. If you do not treat her well, you will answer to me.”

“People don’t own other people,” George protested weakly.

The girl smiled almost sadly, and her voice deepened slightly when she spoke again. “We have very different values, you and I. You should not question that which you do not understand, Mr. Weasley, and I do not expect you to understand since you are not of my blood.” She walked forward and looked them both over, her bright emerald-amber eyes searching them as if trying to reach into their very souls. “This is a token of my...appreciation, for accepting my Frimiare.”

As she reached out her arm to hand them the envelope, the sleeve of her cloak fell back to reveal a black serpent wrapped around an open-mouthed skull in the crook of her arm. George gasped audibly, while Fred reached out to take the envelope just as she snatched her arm back and turned around, hugging herself.

“You are dismissed,” she said distantly.

George opened the door and exited the room quickly. Looking back at the fallen envelope as the ceiling dimmed and the door closed, the twins caught one last glimpse of her grey form against the darkness and diminished light.

When they found the others, Frimiare was filling her pouch from earlier with shimmering gold powder while Ron was watching Hermione peruse the shelves with fascination. Without warning, George pulled Ron off to the side.

“She’s got the Dark Mark!” he exclaimed in a whisper.

“Who?” Ron asked.

“The girl upstairs,” George answered. “Arkinea.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Then you can’t trust this Frimiare girl either, if they’re in league.”

“But we need her...damn.” George looked up.

Harry, Hermione, and Fred were following the girl to the center of the floor where the strange blue flame burned. The two brothers joined them as she stroked the flame, activating it, and tossed a pinch of the gold powder into the fire. The room darkened, and once again, they were back in the one-room illusion. The six of them took seats at the round table they had arrived with, and the girl placed her hand on the table, transporting them via cool flame back to the popular pub. She walked with them to the door and vanished into the crowded street.