Knockturn Alley - Borgin and Burkes
Mr. Borgin lay on the floor, gasping for breath as if he had just run a marathon.
His greasy hair was matted to his forehead, and his eyes darted around the room, unable to focus.
He looked up at Ernst, at the man who had just dismantled his nervous system with invisible machines.
"The torment is over," Ernst said, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm.
"For now."
Ernst crouched down, meeting Borgin's gaze.
"Do you understand the physics of pain, Mr. Borgin? It is merely electrical signals firing in the brain. My nanobots have tapped into your pain receptors. I can turn them on like a light switch. I can make you feel the agony of being burned alive without ever striking a match. Or..."
Ernst tapped the side of his own head.
"I can stimulate the pleasure centers. I can make you a god or a worm. The choice is yours."
Borgin crawled forward, grabbing the hem of Ernst's coat.
All trace of the arrogant shopkeeper was gone.
In his place was a broken man who recognized a predator far higher on the food chain.
"I serve," Borgin rasped.
"I serve you, Master."
"Good," Ernst said, standing up.
"Loyalty should be rewarded. The nanobots in your system aren't just for punishment. They will regulate your hormones. They will stimulate your pituitary gland to increase your magical focus."
Borgin's eyes widened. "Increase?"
"You are a mediocre wizard, Borgin," Ernst stated bluntly.
"But with my augmentation, your cognitive processing speed will double. Your reaction times will rival an Auror's. Within ten years, your raw magical output could rival Dumbledore's."
Borgin trembled, but this time with excitement.
To have power like Dumbledore? That was worth any servitude.
"However," Ernst warned, raising a finger.
"This burns the candle at both ends. You will never progress beyond that point. Your potential is capped. Do you accept?"
"Yes! Yes, Master!" Borgin cried, kissing Ernst's shoe.
"I accept!"
"Pathetic," Azazel muttered from the shadows, lowering the dimensional barrier around the house-elf.
The elf, witnessing its master's total submission, cowered in the corner.
It looked at Ernst with huge, terrified eyes.
Ernst walked over to the creature. He scanned it with his enhanced perception.
Fascinating, Ernst thought. Their biology is almost entirely magical.
Their DNA has been rewritten by centuries of binding curses.
"What is your name?" Ernst asked the elf.
"I... I is Kreacher, sir," the elf squeaked.
Ernst raised an eyebrow. Kreacher.
The Black family elf.
Borgin must have acquired him, or borrowed him.
"Well, Kreacher," Ernst said.
"Your master belongs to me now. Which means you belong to me. Do not try to pop away. My friend over there..."
Ernst gestured to Azazel. "...eats demons for breakfast. He will catch you in the space between spaces."
Kreacher nodded frantically, his ears flapping.
"Borgin," Ernst turned back to the groveling man.
"Get up. You have seven days to acquire the items on the list. Dragon blood, Phoenix ash, Basilisk venom. Use the gold. Bribe whom you must. If you fail, the itching comes back. Permanently."
"I will not fail, Master! I know a supplier in Romania... and a poacher in Albania..."
"I don't care about the details," Ernst said, checking his watch.
"Just get it done."
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Ernst walked up the path to the castle, a satisfied hum in his throat.
In his hand, he carried a small cage containing a Crup puppy, a magical terrier with a forked tail that he had purchased for genetic comparison.
Azazel followed silently, carrying the rest of the acquisitions in the expanded briefcase.
"A productive trip," Ernst murmured.
He patted the pocket of his coat. Inside was a human skull he had bought from a shady dealer in Knockturn Alley.
To the dealer, it was a cursed curio.
To Ernst, it was a research subject. He could feel the faint, necrotic pulse of a soul fragment trapped within the bone.
Soul magic, Ernst thought. The final frontier.
They reached his quarters.
"Azazel, feed the Crup. I left my notes on the Animagus transformation in the library. I need to retrieve them before the house-elves tidy up."
The Library
Ernst unlocked the library door with a wave of his hand, no wand required.
He moved silently through the stacks toward his private study room.
Voices drifted out.
Ernst stopped. He extended his mental senses.
Four distinct bio-signatures. Young. Adrenaline spiking.
He listened.
"Prongs, are you sure?" a nervous voice whispered.
"If Pince catches us..."
"Relax, Wormtail," a confident, arrogant voice replied.
"The Map is clear. The coast is empty. Padfoot, did you find the journal?"
"Just a lot of Arithmancy charts," a third voice grumbled.
"This guy is a machine. Who reads this much? I haven't found a single clue about who he really is."
"Keep looking," Prongs commanded.
"There has to be something. A dark mark, a letter from Grindelwald... something."
Ernst smiled in the dark. The Marauders.
James Potter (Prongs), Sirius Black (Padfoot), Peter Pettigrew (Wormtail), and Remus Lupin (Moony).
The future generation.
He decided to make an entrance.
Ernst stepped into the candlelight of the study room.
"Curiosity killed the cat," Ernst said smoothly.
"But what does it do to the stag, the dog, the rat, and the wolf?"
The four boys jumped as if electrocuted.
James Potter spun around, his wand raised. Peter squeaked and dropped a stack of books.
"You!" James gasped. He looked down at a piece of parchment in his hand, the Marauder's Map.
"Impossible. The Map... it says the room is empty."
"A clever piece of charm work," Ernst noted, glancing at the map.
"But my ring is inscribed with runic arrays that refract detection spells. To your map, I am a hole in reality."
He walked further into the room, his presence filling the space.
"So, Gryffindors. Breaking curfew. Breaking into a restricted study room. Attempting to steal faculty research. That is expulsion, is it not?"
The boys looked terrified. They were caught red-handed.
"We weren't stealing," Sirius Black said, stepping forward with false bravado.
"We were... investigating. You're suspicious. A scientist in a wizard school? We think you're up to something."
"I am up to many things, Mr. Black," Ernst replied coolly.
"But none of them concern you."
He turned his gaze to the quietest member of the group.
Remus Lupin stood in the shadows, looking pale and sickly. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Ernst glanced out the window. The full moon was rising, huge and yellow above the Forbidden Forest.
"And you, Mr. Lupin," Ernst said, feigning surprise.
"You look unwell. Dilated pupils. Elevated heart rate. And... is that the smell of wolfsbane?"
Lupin flinched. "I... I'm fine, sir. Just a cold."
"A cold?" Ernst raised an eyebrow.
"On the night of the full moon? Dumbledore is a bold man, allowing a Lycanthrope to attend school. If the Board of Governors knew..."
The color drained from James and Sirius's faces.
The secret was out.
"Please," Lupin whispered, clutching the desk. His hands were trembling violently.
The stress of the confrontation, combined with the rising moon, was triggering the transformation early.
"Don't... don't tell."
Crack.
Lupin's spine shifted. He gasped, falling to his knees. His eyes flashed amber.
A growl ripped from his throat.
"Remus!" James shouted, rushing to his friend.
"Get back!" Ernst ordered.
He stepped forward. He didn't use a wand. He used his mind.
Psionic Domination.
Ernst focused his enhanced will into a spear of mental energy.
He slammed it directly into Lupin's fracturing consciousness.
"SUBMIT."
The command wasn't spoken; it was projected.
It hit Lupin's mind like a hammer, suppressing the beast instinct that was trying to claw its way out.
The transformation halted. The amber faded from Lupin's eyes.
His bones settled back into place with a sickening pop.
He collapsed, panting, human once more.
James and Sirius stared at Ernst, their mouths open.
They knew, everyone knew, that you couldn't stop a transformation.
It was a curse. An absolute law of magic.
And this man just turned it off like a light switch.
"How..." Sirius breathed.
"How did you do that?"
"Mind over matter," Ernst said, adjusting his cuffs.
"The wolf is a biological imperative, but it is driven by the brain. I simply... paused the signal."
He looked down at the trembling Lupin.
"You are lucky, boy. If you had turned here, you would have killed your friends."
"Thank you," Lupin choked out, tears in his eyes.
"Please... don't have me expelled. It would kill my parents."
Ernst looked at the four of them. He saw potential.
"I will keep your secret," Ernst decided.
"Really?" James asked, suspicious.
"On one condition," Ernst said.
"You leave now. And you never touch my research again."
"Done," James said instantly.
"Let's go."
They scrambled for the door. But Lupin lingered. He looked at Ernst with a desperate hope.
"Sir," Lupin asked.
"You stopped it. Can... can you teach me? Can you cure it?"
Ernst looked at the boy.
'A cure was difficult, but control? Control may be possible.'
"I cannot cure the curse, Mr. Lupin," Ernst said honestely.
"But I can teach you to cage the beast. I can give you control, so that even when you change, the human mind remains in the driver's seat."
Lupin's eyes widened.
"I'll do anything."
"There is a hurdle," Ernst said.
"I promised the Headmaster I would not interfere with the students. If you want my help, you must get Dumbledore's permission."
"Dumbledore?" Lupin hesitated.
"He warned us to stay away from you."
"Then you have a choice," Ernst shrugged.
"Obey the Headmaster and remain a monster. Or convince him that you need a doctor. It is up to you."
Lupin nodded slowly, a newfound determination hardening his face.
"I will ask him. Tonight."
"Good luck," Ernst smiled.
As the boys left, Ernst picked up his notes.
Step one complete, he thought.
Now Dumbledore has to come to me.
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