Knockturn Alley was a safe haven for all of those that did not wish to be found. It was a place even the most senior officials in the Ministry dare not encroach upon. It was a place where Pureblood tradition thrived and was not at all the dark nook of London that the Light witches and wizards portrayed it to be. It was a place, yes, that Death Eaters and Dark Magic practitioners frequented but it was not as unsafe as Ministry propaganda liked to suggest. No, in fact you were more likely to encounter trouble in Diagon Alley, the light, ‘safe’ area of Magical London. Cerelia certainly felt more at home in Knockturn Alley, Diagon Alley far too chipper for her taste. She enjoyed the shade of Knockturn Alley and certainly found its people a lot more palatable. As soon as she slipped into its shadow she felt herself relax, felt her shoulders slip from their raised, hackle like stance. She wiped the cheek-bone aching smile from her face and weaved amongst the people, making her way down the sloping street to her destination: the used bookshop.
The street was mostly empty towards the end of the road before it jutted off into random directions at angles that didn’t appear physically possible. It was deathly quiet in Knockturn Alley, as was customary, and so it was impossible for Cerelia to miss the sound of someone’s voice, a familiar voice, the same voice that had brushed off earlier foolishness. Cerelia, despite her better nature, decided to stop and she turned, her face illuminated lightly by flickering lamp above her. Her eyebrows rose as the boy made his way towards her, looking horrendously out of place in the alley. Cerelia didn’t owe anything to him but she certainly wasn’t going to stand there with an imbecile who had it written all over his body that he did not belong in Knockturn Alley. He was going to get himself killed. Now this would have contradicted an earlier observation that Knockturn Alley is safer than its Order-run counterpart. That’s a lie, of course, because in Knockturn Alley, no crime is reported.
“Stand up straight,” she hissed at him, staring pointedly at his wrought, almost panicked features. “Wipe that surly look off of your face too; and be quiet – they don’t like noise.” Cerelia looked about herself and then eyed an empty looking alleyway. She reached out and curled her hand around the strap of his bag and tugged at him, pulling him as best she could considering the size difference between them, hoping he had enough brain cells to know to follow her where she was in the process of going. Once within the safety of the alley, Cerelia lifted her wand and flicked it at one of the lamps, making it blaze brighter so as to heighten their visibility. “You’re not particularly intelligent, are you, following me here? It’s Knockturn Alley, you imbecile. People. Die. Here. There’s a reason Light Wizards such as yourself avoid this place. Now say what you have come to say and leave. You’re not a loss to me or to their side but I refuse to be implicated if you wind up dead.”