The man placed the alleged Borgia ring back into the glass case. "That kind of thing almost always belongs to pureblood families. They hoard them. When circumstance forces them to sell, they don't exactly put them up on the auction block-the shame that they have to sell in the first place, and of course, the minor fact that many of those heirlooms are illegal."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "So where does one listen for the happenings of this particular market?"
The man shrugged uncomfortably. "You've just got to have connections."
"Do you know of any pieces on the market now? Something that maybe more than one antiques dealer may be aware of?" Harry asked.
The man sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Polkiss. I just don't know you. I'm not prepared to talk about that sort of thing with you. If you listen attentively in the right places, you may hear something useful. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm about to close up for the night."
"Thanks anyway," Harry muttered, trying to appear cheerful.
Harry left the shop and began to make his way back toward Diagon Alley. He had gone about a hundred meters when a familiar voice called his name.
"Mr. Ashworth."
Harry turned around and discovered Alastor Moody standing in the street behind him, looking at him suspiciously. "Auror Moody," Harry said. "What brings you here?"
"I could ask you the same question, Ashworth." Moody growled. He moved to join Harry. "Why don't we head down to the Leaky Cauldron for a little pick-me-up?"
Harry shrugged. "All right, I've got plenty of time."
They walked together toward the Leaky Cauldron. Moody didn't say anything until they had been seated and were looking down at their drinks. Harry was surprised to see Moody order a drink. He had been under the impression that Moody drank only from his hip flask. Probably something he picked up during Voldemort's first reign terror, Harry told himself.
"So, Ashworth, I got a fire-call from a lady in Hogsmeade saying that she had caught a young man poking around the ruins of a certain shop that burned down recently. She said that she sent him in the direction of Diagon Alley. I rushed to Diagon Alley and found you where she had told me I would find the young man she had seen."
"What an interesting story," Harry observed.
"Don't toy with me, Ashworth," Moody barked. "It was you! What were you doing?"
Harry weighed his options carefully. Denial would only fan the flames of Moody's suspicion. Admitting too much would be plain trouble. Harry decided he would tell the basic truth-just not all of it. "I've been hearing some rumors. Certain purebloods are agitated about the fire. Not just agitation over your basic case of arson. Something else is bothering them. I was curious, and I thought I'd see if I could ferret out what had gotten them into such a tizzy."
"And what did you find out?" Moody asked. From his tone of voice, it sounded like he was buying Harry's explanation, but his characteristic paranoia was still present.
"Nothing," Harry replied. "The man probably noticed you skulking outside his shop. Wouldn't tell me a thing."
"I don't skulk!" Moody declared.
"Same difference," Harry said.
The two sat in silence, nursing their drinks. Moody finished his drink. "Well Ashworth, I'll give you credit for saving that wizard from the fire in Hogsmeade, and I'll even give you the benefit of the doubt over you sticking your nose into Auror business tonight, but if I catch you skulking around further, there will be a lot more questions."
"Aye, aye, sir," Harry said with a wink. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Cheeky bastard," Moody growled as he stood and left Harry.
Harry sat with his drink for a few more moments. He vaguely considered the possibility of finding some of the more disreputably pubs in Diagon Alley for the purpose of sniffing out potential information about the black market for heirlooms. This idea was dismissed, however. Moody was likely planning to either follow him or to send someone else to tail Harry. Harry left his drink unfinished, made sure the check had been paid, and exited the Leaky Cauldron into the streets of London in search of something entertaining.
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