Chapter 14: The Arms Business Sets Sail

Chapter 14: The Arms Business Sets Sail

"I've been hearing the whispers, of course. A wealthy new master has appeared on the scene. I never imagined you would grace my humble establishment."

Mr. Borgin rubbed his hands together excitedly. In his eyes, Leon was a walking, talking pile of Galleons. Even a few dropped coins would be a fortune.

"Mr. Shelby, it is a true honour to meet you," Borgin's voice was so oily it was almost nauseating. "You are most welcome. And you as well, of course, Mr. Moody. How can I help you, Mr. Shelby?"

"Oh, you simply must see the new stock I've just acquired. Very rare items..."

"Alright, that's enough," Moody interrupted impatiently. "Stop trying to hawk your dark artifacts. Nobody wants to buy your rubbish."

"Not buying?" Borgin, who had been grinning from ear to ear, froze. His smile faded considerably. He looked at Leon with a sliver of hope. "Mr. Shelby, I have some items that are perfectly suited for a young wizard such as yourself..."

"Mr. Borgin," Leon explained in a slow, deliberate tone. "I'm not here to purchase anything today."

Mr. Borgin's smile collapsed completely, his disappointment palpable. "Then are you here to sell? To be honest with you, sir, I've run into some difficulties recently. I haven't the spare Galleons to be acquiring new stock at the moment..."

Moody, who had been watching from the side, let out a cold snort, looking at Borgin as if he were a particularly amusing joke. "I hear the Ministry's been passing a lot of new regulations. Times must be tough for cockroaches like you, eh?"

He let out a satisfied sigh and continued his taunts. "Hasn't been much business lately, has there? Can you still afford to eat?"

Before meeting Leon, Mad-Eye would likely never have used such a taunt. As a retired Auror with no pension, his own finances were nothing to boast about.

But things were different now.

Across the counter, Borgin's face was turning a blotchy red. Lies don't hurt. The truth is a blade.

He simmered for a long moment before he could no longer hold his tongue. He retorted in a sarcastic, biting tone.

"The business may not be respectable, but at least I don't have to work as an errand boy for some rich kid. Tell me, Mr. Moody, the pay must be quite good, yes? Twenty Galleons a month?"

He paused, feeling his first attack hadn't been sharp enough, and added another jab.

"Oh, but I forgot. That's the going rate for a whole man. I doubt you'd fetch that much."

To his surprise, Moody didn't fly into a rage. Instead, he just gave a nonchalant smile, removed his magical eye, and gave it a polish.

"It's not twenty Galleons, you're right about that." He popped the eyeball back into its socket with a wet click. "My job is to protect the lad until the start of the Hogwarts term. One month's work. The pay is two thousand Galleons."

"How much?!" Borgin shrieked.

He nearly vaulted over the counter, his greasy hair flying in every direction.

"How much?!"

"Two thousand?!"

"Galleons?!"

Borgin took a deep breath, his sharp mind quickly grasping the situation.

A genuine, heartfelt smile spread across his face. He looked at Leon with a newfound warmth and enthusiasm. "Mr. Shelby, while it is true that my funds are low, I am certain I could find enough for the right item."

"What is it you're looking to sell? I will give you an excellent price, I assure you!"

Moody just chuckled and began to wander towards the door. He knew Leon was about to talk business and that it was his cue to make himself scarce.

"You misunderstand, Mr. Borgin," Leon said, his voice calm. "I'm not here to sell anything either. From what you said just now, it sounds as though you've run into some trouble?"

Though he didn't understand where this was going, Borgin nodded, launching into a brief, bitter summary of his recent difficulties.

"So, to put it plainly, the problem is that your inventory is not exactly legal," Leon said, guiding the conversation. "Whenever the Ministry decides to crack down, your business suffers immensely. Is that correct?"

After getting a nod of confirmation, he posed a question. "Have you ever considered selling something else? Something the Ministry doesn't regulate?"

"No one comes to Knockturn Alley to buy legitimate goods," Borgin said with a shake of his head. He's still just a child, he thought. He doesn't understand anything. "My clientele consists of ruffians, scoundrels, and members of the great pure-blood families who have... private interests."

Leon reached into his coat, pulled out a pistol, and placed it on the counter. "And what about this? Are you familiar with it?"

"A Muggle weapon," Borgin said, his knowledge surprisingly thorough. "Convenient, easy to use, and its power is not to be underestimated. A well-trained Muggle with one of these could even stand a chance against an adult wizard. I must say, the Muggles' recent developments are quite frightening."

He knew what Leon was getting at. "Unfortunately, these are difficult to acquire, even in the Muggle world. That's why they are so rarely seen among wizards. Many don't even know what they are."

Leon nodded, his estimation of the grimy shopkeeper rising.

"And what if," Leon said, pausing for effect, "I could get my hands on a great many of them? Are you confident you could sell them to other wizards?"

If Borgin had been only half-listening before, he was now leaning forward, a greedy glint in his eyes.

"Of course! The villains and scoundrels you mentioned, they would place orders the moment they saw it." His mind was racing, listing the selling points. "No incantation required... no warning until the very moment of attack... you can even maintain a great distance from your target..."

He looked at the pistol with something akin to reverence. "My word, this is the perfect tool for any wizard who favours a stealthy approach."

"In some ways," he breathed, "this is far more useful than a wand!"

A smile spread across Leon's face. In just a few sentences, Borgin had perfectly analyzed the product's strengths and identified its target demographic.

"Mr. Borgin, I will be direct."

"I intend to go into the arms business here in Knockturn Alley. For that, I require a shop."

"And after looking around, I find your establishment to be the most suitable."

"If you are willing to sell, I believe I can offer you a very handsome price."

"Of course, if you are not interested, that is perfectly fine. I can simply speak with one of the other shopkeepers."

The Peaky Blinders were always direct, and Leon was no different. He laid his offer on the table.

Although he'd had a vague premonition, it still took Borgin a long moment to process Leon's words. He stared at the young wizard in front of him, his expression complex.

No, he thought, his hands trembling slightly as he smoothed his greasy hair back. One cannot judge Mr. Shelby by his height or his age.

He looked into Leon's burning, intense gaze and considered the offer for a long time. Finally, he made his decision.

"The shop is yours," he said. "On one condition. I want a position."