"Yes, Borgin and Burke are two people's surnames, and the shop is run by the two of them. The other man is called Caractacus Burke," Sirius explained patiently.
"Is he really a vampire? The sort we saw last time, with pale faces, who can turn into bats? Don't they usually avoid contact with wizards?" Harry recalled some of her past experiences with Black.
"That's right. I only found out by chance myself. You know, over a decade ago, Burke still regularly bought and sold goods in the shop, but he vanished from sight afterward. Presumably, that was when he became a vampire."
"Became a vampire? Is it like being a werewolf, where one bite can turn you?" Harry asked curiously.
Sirius shook his head and explained seriously, "It's not that simple. The ritual vampires use to accept new members is extremely complicated, and it comes at an enormous cost. Burke probably paid a very high price to become one."
"Then can vampires really live forever, like the legends say?" Harry's curiosity grew stronger.
"In theory, yes, but becoming a vampire isn't the only thing that comes at a high price. Living forever also has its cost. You hardly ever hear of any powerful wizard choosing to become a vampire." After finishing, Sirius saw the curiosity still in Harry's eyes and hurriedly added,
"I didn't study properly in Defence Against the Dark Arts back then. We had nine professors for that subject in seven years, so I don't know much about vampires. Even this little bit came from Lupin. Once you start school, you can ask your professor."
"All right, but are you sure this has nothing to do with Voldemort? What are so many Dark creatures gathering in Britain for?" Harry asked again, still feeling somewhat worried.
"Burke's information should be fairly reliable. Unlike werewolves, vampires tend to stick together, and news travels pretty quickly among them. Since it has nothing to do with Voldemort, whatever they're planning is none of my business. It'll give the Ministry of Magic something to keep them busy, too, instead of watching me whenever they have nothing better to do," Sirius said gleefully.
"Let's hope so." Although Harry still had a faint sense of foreboding, she did not take it too much to heart. After all, she would soon be going to Hogwarts. Surely those vampires and werewolves wouldn't dare openly attack Hogwarts?
Having slipped into the Kramer Goblin Supplies Shop, Herman naturally heard none of their conversation outside, and thus missed out on a juicy piece of gossip.
At that moment, Herman gazed around the empty shop, wondering how to call out a shop assistant. "Anyone here? No, wait, any goblins here?"
Herman called several times, but there was no response. Was no one here? Had he come all this way for nothing? Feeling the few Galleons left in his pocket, Herman decided he absolutely could not leave empty-handed. It had been hard enough getting to Knockturn Alley.
So Herman wandered around the shop, trying to find some clues. Everything in the shop could be considered miniature for an adult, but for Herman, who had only just turned eleven, it was just the right size.
Small swords, their blades gleaming with a mysterious sheen; exquisite suits of armour, each plate like a carefully carved work of art; magnificent tableware, like treasures from a dream.
Herman also saw little pouches similar to Harry's money bag. However, he dared not touch any of these things carelessly, because every item glimmered with magic. Given the goblins' temperament as well, Herman feared that touching anything would give them an excuse to extort him.
After wandering around for a while, Herman discovered a small door behind the counter, which presumably led farther into the shop.
Herman called out a few more times at the little door. Still no goblin answered, but he could faintly hear voices coming from inside.
Herman glanced back at Sirius and Harry outside the shop window, then recalled what Sirius had said: with the protection of the Goblin Act, goblins would not normally harm wizards.
So Herman gritted his teeth, pushed open the door, and went inside. Beyond the door was actually an office, with all sorts of documents piled haphazardly on several desks. Herman even spotted a few Muggle newspapers.
There were also computers that were switched on, several telephones, and a television against the wall, showing Muggle news.
If not for a goblin roaring into a telephone, Herman would have thought he had stumbled into some Muggle company.
He heard the roaring goblin shout, "Buy more! Buy more, I said! Never mind how far it drops, buy more!"
"Money? Money's not a problem. I'll transfer it right away! Hold steady, don't sell! It'll go up any moment!"
Listening to the goblin, Herman felt momentarily dazed. Was this stock trading? Even goblins traded stocks these days? No wonder Gringotts was willing to exchange pounds. The money they got from those exchanges probably wasn't even enough. This was practically a bottomless pit.
Apparently finished giving instructions, the goblin angrily slammed the telephone onto the desk, glanced at the clock on the wall, and swore, "Fuck, half past four. Market's closed."
Only after swearing did it realize that a young wizard had come in at some point. Frowning, the goblin asked, "Who are you? What are you here for?"
As it spoke, it raised a finger warily and pointed straight at Herman. Herman had read quite a few books recently and learned a great deal about the magical world, including something about goblins. He knew they did not need wands to cast spells. With its finger pointed at him, it was clearly ready to attack.
Herman hurriedly said, "Easy, I came over from Gringotts. I'm here to exchange money for Galleons."
Hearing that he had come from Gringotts to exchange money for Galleons, the goblin's expression softened a little, but it still did not lower its hand. It merely said, "We're a legitimate shop. We don't conduct illegal Galleon exchanges. You've come to the wrong place."
Before coming here, Herman might have thought the goblin at Gringotts had made up a place offhand to cheat him out of his Galleons.
But he certainly did not think so now. After all, what stock trader wasn't short of money? The British stock market didn't accept Galleons. He was definitely getting his money exchanged today.
Herman wasted no more words and took pounds straight out of his pocket. Since the trip to Knockturn Alley had been decided on at short notice today, he had not brought the suitcase of cash, but he still had plenty of pounds on him. After all, no one in the magical world stole the stuff, so he had kept carrying it around.
Sure enough, the moment it saw Herman produce a thick stack of pounds, the goblin involuntarily swallowed, clearly tempted.
"Then I suppose I'll have to take this money back. Maybe I can buy some shares when the market opens tomorrow. A pity, really. I originally wanted to exchange it for some Galleons, and the rate was entirely negotiable. Now I'll have to put it back in savings."
Having spoken with feigned nonchalance, Herman turned and made as if to leave. Seeing that Herman was leaving, the goblin immediately grew anxious, hurried forward a few steps, and blocked his way, saying,
"I'll exchange it! The rate is four pounds fifty to one Galleon. Better than the exchange rate at Gringotts!"