pray for the wicked [Emmanuelle]

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

14 January 2026

After the events of the past few days, it seemed impossible to simply return to his day-to-day life. But that was exactly what Cas needed to do, because it was by lurking in his usual haunts that he could be most useful to the recently reestablished Order of the Phoenix. He was an unusual choice for membership, that much was certain. He lived in the gray area between order and chaos, right and wrong. His motives were questionable at best, and there was nothing about his career or lifestyle that suggested he was a good or ethical man – really, that he was anything but the coldblooded businessman everyone saw. It was likely he would live and die with no one ever knowing anything different.

But he’d chosen that. And with time, he’d come to accept it too. In preparation for an upcoming meeting with Harry, Cas had begun to put all his papers in order. Updating his ledgers, reviewing the latest status of the worst and most dangerous Dark artifacts he had come across – who he had sold them to, which collections they were currently collecting dust in, and when they inevitably returned to the black market after they’d fulfilled their purpose. But he needed more than that as well – because while Cas was certainly one of the foremost experts in his field on curse enchanting and magical artifacts, it wasn’t his only use. No, he was something of a unique tool in the fight against the Purifiers, if only because he occupied the same dark and peripheral spaces in society as their typical membership. And it was finally time to start leveraging that, to start putting names and faces to the mysterious organization that only occasionally emerged from the shadows to cause chaos.

It was, by all accounts, a normal day. It was early, and his assistant wasn’t slated to arrive for another hour. The morning hours were quiet, which gave him time to review his inventory and check his assistant’s work for errors. Today that meant taking his usual seat behind the counter as he carefully turned over a tarot card in his gloved hands, the rest of the deck innocently resting on the countertop. There was nothing to indicate that the cards were cursed, but a recent trip to the southern United States had yielded whispers that they had a terrible knack of predicting misfortune for those whose fortune they told. Determining whether the accidents that followed were the result of a skewed frame of mind or an actual curse was his goal for today. It was too high-profile a task for his assistant, so Cas scrutinized the card with an expert eye as he searched for residual signs of magic.

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

January 14, 2026

Emmanuelle wasn't scheduled to work until later in the day, so she had gotten up that morning with the intention of running a few errands before having to pop over to the Gaelic Knot. Because of the holidays and the fact that countless items had gotten delayed with the amount of presents and other things that people had been sending through the post, it had been pretty hectic. While some people might have taken that opportunity to go and get, say, groceries, Emmanuelle had had her eye on a few things in the window at Borgin & Burkes and was hopeful that not all of them had sold yet. When that store got items in, they didn't last. For somewhat obvious reasons, she used extreme caution about how often she entered Knockturn Alley and what she actually expressed interest in. She was no fool, though at least her job outside of the Purifiers gave her reason to look around at some of those things, too. Who knew, after all, if something that a customer was looking for could actually be found among a host of Dark artifacts?

The weather was cold enough as it was that it didn't look out of place for her to be in a heavy cloak, and Emmanuelle kept her hood up both for warmth and to obscure her identity somewhat as she walked in the door of the shop. There were plenty of curiosities and plenty more things that she was sure that Elaine Dupree would love to get her hands on, given the opportunity. It was something of a playground, though Emmanuelle maintained one clear rule: She would look and admire some things from a distance, but she wouldn't touch them without knowing precisely how they had been enchanted. Never once had she actually made a purchase.

She lowered her hood once she was indoors, her red curls tied in a loose bun at the top of her head, and glanced over to see that the man at the counter looked to be reshuffling a deck of cards. Looking again, she saw that it wasn't a deck of playing cards, however. They were tarot cards. She gave a slight nod to acknowledge his presence but browsed around what else was available, treating the place as one might a museum.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

After years of working in Knockturn Alley, and years before that traveling the world for Gringotts, Cas had accumulated an arsenal of spells meant to detect, describe, and if necessary dispel curses. He ran through the usual ones now, keeping an even distance between his wands and the card in question as he tried test after test. A quick glance at the Dial Back had confirmed there was indeed Dark magic present, as the hands of the watch face had started spinning wildly. Now it was just a matter of narrowing down exactly which sort of spell the card’s enchanter had chosen. That could be tricky, because if there was one thing Cas had learned over the years – well, it was that the practitioners of the Dark Arts could be quite innovative.

The sound of the bell briefly broke him out of his deep concentration, enough for him to look up and notice one of his first customers of the day enter the shop. She nodded slightly at him and Cas returned it with a shallow nod of his own. However, his eyes remained thoughtfully trained on the young woman even as she returned to browsing his display cases like she had just entered Ali Baba’s treasure room. She wore a heavy cloak, which in itself wasn’t unusual given that it was the middle of January and they were in Knockturn Alley. Even so, he was quite good with faces and was certain he had seen her in his store before. They had never spoken, and she wasn’t one of his regulars. But it was certainly curious enough that she visited with enough frequency to be recognized without having ever bought a single trinket.

Cas briefly returned to the tarot cards, shuffling them once before pulling the first card from the top. He had never seen tarot cards properly handled before, so his movements must have looked quite clumsy to the trained expert. Still, part of him wondered how skilled Divination workers could read the cards, and what this one meant. All his spells had only told him was that the cards were heavily cursed, and it wasn’t a simple one that could be undone with one countercharm. No, this enchantment was quite complex. His eyes returned to the lone customer still browsing the shelves. She hadn’t bought anything yet, but then again – there was a first time for everything. She didn’t seem to stay too long with any one object, so Cas gracefully stood and set his card down. “It can be difficult to choose something when confronted with so many possibilities,” he observed calmly, leaning against the edge of the counter. His eyes drifted across his merchandise. "They truly capture the imagination, don't they?"

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

January 14, 2026

Emmanuelle wasn't too focused on what the tarot deck was about; it could have been a million things, and she chose not to read too much into it. They, like most of the rest of the items in the shop, were probably cursed in some way or another—or at least imbued with some properties that weren't quite typical of tarot cards—and Emmanuelle knew that it was best to mind her own business as she looked around at what else happened to be available. There was nothing that really pulled her in, although her attention was pulled away from the items by the realization that she was being spoken to.

"It can be difficult to choose something when confronted with so many possibilities," the man behind the counter said to her. Emmanuelle turned her head in his direction and saw that he had stood up and was leaning against the counter itself. "They truly capture the imagination, don't they?"

"Capturing the imagination" was putting it lightly, perhaps, but Emmanuelle had to agree with him on that. "Absolutely," she answered, the word drawn out by what was obviously an accent from the Southern United States. "So many antiques…" she added, as though oblivious to where she was and the kinds of things those items could really do. Everything in there would have been interesting, she thought, if only to pick it apart and examine it more thoroughly. She didn't see any of what she had had her eye on from a few weeks prior, but she doubted that most people went shopping there for presents.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Cas studied her with the gaze of a businessman from the other side of the counter. She seemed young, too young really to have the sort of expertise to know the exact value of what she was looking at. Still, that knowledge was counteracted by the careful way she studied every object. There was a clear admiration in her gaze, and the way her eyes caught on every artifact suggested she must have some experience with valuable items. Cas received many kinds of customers in his shop. There were purebloods who were here to enhance their status with rare and powerful objects. They didn’t care what they bought, only whether he could give them a rich backstory to relay to their friends. Then there were the utilitarian folk, who came to his shop with a specific mission and who only required the proper tool to carry out that mission.

This woman didn’t give him the sense of belonging to either of those groups. Her answer – vague, noting only the antiquity of the objects and not their Dark nature – suggested a fascination for magical artifacts that extended beyond their monetary value or practical use. It suggested instead a deep fascination with the artifact itself, the same one that pushed Cas to be the collector he was. Her accent was very clearly American, and in fact highly resembled ones that he had only recently been surrounded by on his latest trip to acquire the tarot cards. Americans rarely valued history, instead being taken in by the shock and awe of magic. They weren’t quite as grounded in the concepts of historical continuity or pedigree like Europeans. Still, Cas had to wonder exactly how well this woman might fit the stereotypes he was so familiar with.

He gave her a crooked half-smile. “That is certainly the reputation this store promises. The potential to find objects with unusual and ancient properties.” It had become something of a tagline for Borgin and Burke’s, even if it wasn’t widely publicized. Cas relied on a very specific sort of clientele to stay in business, and walk-ins from the street certainly weren’t his target audience. He leaned forward, casually placing his weight on his elbows. It was a more casual stance than he usually might take, but then again…Americans. “Has anything in particular caught your eye? I might be able to provide a deeper backstory. People always seem to appreciate artifacts with a story attached.”

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

January 14, 2026

"That is certainly the reputation this store promises," the man commented back to her when she mentioned how many antiques there were. Nobody actually stumbled upon Borgin and Burkes, to Emmanuelle's knowledge; most people didn't just walk into shops full of dark artifacts without knowing what they were getting into, so she had to wonder what the man working there made of her. He leaned on his elbows, more casual than the usual "stiff upper lip" sort of thing that a lot of British people seemed to have. "Has anything in particular caught your eye?" he asked her. "I might be able to provide a deeper backstory. People always seem to appreciate artifacts with a story attached."

Emmanuelle was prepared to shake her head no, though she thought the better of it. "Those tarot cards," she mentioned, trying to keep her tone from sounding too eager over them despite her curiosity, "are those for sale?" she wondered. She didn't want to be too presumptuous about anything that was on the premises, but they had drawn her attention enough that maybe there was something about them. And if not, there were plenty of other items in stock.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Cas knew this young woman’s type. They were a hard sell – ostensibly, they only ever came to look and not to buy. That didn’t mean that they weren’t in his sort of business, black market goods that couldn’t be found anywhere else. No, usually they were quite involved in their own little niches and they came to his store to shop for inspiration. Cursed trinkets they could offer their own clients, innovative ways to lose a tail or provoke an enemy. Cas had no qualms about selling artifacts to the darker elements of society, even with his work in the Order. The demand was always there, and if he didn’t supply it then someone else would. At least by becoming a reputable fence in the business, he could take a more active role in always keeping one eye open. But giving away things for free? Not his style at all.

Her eyes had caught on the tarot cards, and Cas casually rifled through the deck so she could take a closer look at the intricate decorations and detail of the cards. She asked if they were for sale, and Cas gave a half-smile in response. “In my experience, I have yet to come across anything truly off-limits,” he began thoughtfully, before gathering the cards into a tight pile again and lightly placing them on the counter. He shrugged slightly. “Everything here is for sale. The question is whether you’re willing to pay the price.” That was the question, wasn’t it – everything in life had a price. The issue wasn’t whether or not something could be done, only if you were willing to pay enough to make it happen. And even as a storeowner, Cas knew that the most valuable currency wasn’t gold. His eyes drifted between the woman and the tarot cards. “Remind you of home?”

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

January 14, 2026

The tarot cards were certainly drawing her in, and Emmanuelle couldn't lie and say that the detail on the cards themselves wasn't exquisite; it absolutely was. Voodoo involved far more complicated things than tarot cards, but they were a good way of drawing in business. Even those who didn't touch anything to do with divination ordinarily were typically interested in tarot readings and things of that nature. Once they were hooked on one thing, it wasn't hard to sell them another service. Emmanuelle was hardly a tarot expert—and she would leave that to the few true Seers who existed in the world—but the way that the man casually spoke about nothing's being off-limits resonated with her.

"Everything here is for sale. The question is whether you're willing to pay the price."

Emmanuelle didn't have a vault filled with endless gold, though she imagined that his point might not have been about monetary value so much as about a physical or mental price to pay for whatever the deck was capable of doing.

"Remind you of home?" the man then asked.

"Are those American?" she questioned. Most tarot decks, from her understanding of them, had their origins in Europe. If they were American-made, then she doubted that they were truly antique. What about them was so valuable, then?

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Most people liked to see the world in terms of what they could do, and what was forbidden to do. Cas wasn’t so simple-minded – in reality, one could do anything, provided they had the right resources and frame of mind. No, the right way of looking at the world wasn’t whether you were allowed to do something, but how much you were willing to pay to do it. And, as far as he was concerned, gold was the least expensive commodity. It was a cheap price indeed if the only thing you lost was galleons. There were always more serious consequences when it came to fighting and paying for your cause. Would you give up your freedom, your independence? Would you abandon family who was holding you back? Would you sell your soul to see the job done?

His goods weren’t quite that expensive, although those transactions were always much more interesting. He had found himself playing those games for years now, analyzing how much he was willing to lose and how much he could gain. No, Cas’s price tags had changed quite some time ago, although when it came to his store’s business he still dealt with cold hard galleons. This part of the interaction was always most interesting to him. There was no doubt that Cas was a businessman, but he was above all a deep admirer of magical artifacts. Acquisition was by far the most lucrative part of the job, and he enjoyed the research more than most would.

She asked a discerning question about the origin of the tarot cards, and Cas smiled slightly in response. “Not originally,” he responded with a slight nod to recognize the reasoning behind her question. “In reality they’re French, likely created in the late half of the 18th century. You can see the Marseilles pattern in the design, and the detailing reflects typical styling choices of the time. The enchantment, however, is clearly American, and unfortunately outside my area of knowledge.” He said enchantment when they both knew he meant curse and 'American' instead of 'voodoo', but well – the wordplay came with doing semi-illegal business in Knockturn Alley. But, unfortunately, while Cas had an extensive background in European, Middle Eastern, and African artifacts…that knowledge did not extend to the Americas, or the voodoo magic that was popular in the American South. He had been attempting to study the tarot cards’ curse for some time now, but had hit a dead end in his research. It was unlikely to impede his ability to sell the cards, but it was a disappointment for the academic in him.

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

January 14, 2026

"Not originally," the man said in response to her question about the origins of the tarot deck and if it happened to be American. "In reality they're French," he said, "likely created in the late half of the 18th century." The cards were, therefore, truly antique—and likely incredibly expensive because of their age. "You can see the Marseilles pattern in the design, and the detailing reflects typical styling choices of the time," he elaborated, not that Emmanuelle had much experience with tarot card designs besides the meanings of the individual cards. The historical element, especially with something so many centuries old, was interesting but nothing that she could confirm for herself. "The enchantment, however, is clearly American, and unfortunately outside my area of knowledge."

Emmanuelle nodded. Enchantments were something she knew a great deal about, both lighter ones and those belonging to the Dark Arts. She wasn't going to reveal that side of things, though, without a strong reason, even somewhere like Knockturn Alley. The mention of the enchantment's having been American, though, was enough for her to go off of without having to explain herself at length. "From the same era?" she followed up, wondering if whatever had been placed on the tarot deck was potentially as old as what had since become known as the United States of America. If it was something that old, then it would be a challenge for her, but maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. It never hurt to stretch her muscles, so to speak, but she had to be careful with her interest and held herself back from doing anything without thinking through it. For that reason, she didn't come closer to the deck, as much as she wanted to see it in all its glory. "Or something more recent?"

The second option was always possible, too, she thought. Someone very well could have purchased the deck and enchanted it years, possibly hundreds of years, after the fact. It wouldn't have been as interesting that way, she felt, because whatever had been done to the deck was probably easily broken. That would be a waste, in her opinion, for something so old and so pretty to be left collecting dust without a higher purpose. It was like soiling its provenance, the equivalent of marking up a rare book. She also assumed that the man would be charging more than the deck was really worth in that case, but the fact that even someone who seemed to deal in antiques for a living said that he wasn't knowledgeable about the enchantment was more than enough for Emmanuelle to recognize that making an offer—not even a purchase, necessarily—might raise some red flags. She didn't take the man for a bumbling idiot, so she had to remain on her guard.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Her questions were typical, for someone seeking to pin a price on an antique. Since taking ownership of the store, Cas had removed the price tags from the majority of his merchandise for that reason – gauging a person’s level of knowledge was incredibly important before negotiating a price. He could easily recognize the first-time buyers, or the ones with a heavy purse and no knowledge of artifacts. They were eager to see expensive, exotic wares, and they didn’t know enough to realize when he was marking up the price. If a collector sent a specialist, or became a regular, then the sale became more difficult and Cas would rely more heavily on using the technical language he had picked up in his cursebreaking days. Generally speaking, selling to experts was more difficult – but he liked the challenge.

Still, he could recognize the pitfalls of answering too many questions. The nature of his business meant Cas dealt largely in vague, gray areas. Going into details didn’t suit him, and in fact raised the potential to get in trouble with a suspicious customer or the Ministry. Besides, he knew what the allure of mystery could do to people – things are always desirable until they become known. But once you remove that shroud of mystery, once you reveal its true nature…well, people are fickle. They lose interest. So, at Emmanuelle’s probing questions about the origins of the curse, Cas only gave a half-smile. Identifying a curse was much easier than breaking it, and naturally Cas had plenty of experience with both. His recent work with the magic dampener in particular had greatly expanded his knowledge of American magic, although he still intended to visit the United States himself to learn more. So yes, he knew the rough origins of the curse, although he wasn’t inclined to share and completely lose the chance for this sale.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” Cas said dryly, abruptly gathering the cards together for a quick shuffle before deftly sliding them back into their protective case. He gave Emmanuelle an amused look, tapping his fingers idly on the counter. “I deal in antiques, after all, not enchantments.” It was a lie, of course – the curses and spells that lingered on his merchandise were what made the items truly valuable. But it was a subtle, pointed nod at the discretion required to operate in Knockturn Alley, the sort of discretion he offered his clients. They didn’t need to know about his work for the Order that occasionally required breaking those walls of anonymity. “But if you’re interested in something…simpler, we do stock jewelry as well. There might be a few pieces of interest.” Cas waved his hand idly at a nearby display case, which held rows and rows of rings and bracelets and necklaces. The sort of thing people brought in constantly to pawn for a few galleons -- simple, uninteresting, but it kept the lights on while he hunted down his more rare and ancient merchandise. His tone had shifted to something slightly more bored now. Simple, after all, was dull.

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

January 14, 2026

Emmanuelle didn't have a small fortune at her disposal to spend on antiques, nor was she someone who went around the world in search of them. She had ended up in London by chance and had stayed, but something small like a deck of cards could be carried back to the United States with relative ease. There were probably people who had Galleons practically lining their pockets who would have—and very easily could have—jumped on purchasing a thing like that, only to have it sit and collect dust somewhere just because it happened to have value.

Still, the man behind the counter didn't give her a clear answer on the age of the enchantment placed on the cards. "I'm sure I wouldn’t know," he answered as he put the cards away, although that made Emmanuelle even more certain that he did, in fact, know. "I deal in antiques, after all, not enchantments."

It would have been irresponsible of him, Emmanuelle felt, not to have some idea of how or with what an item that he was selling had been enchanted. If it were to slip into the wrong hands, after all, he could only plead so much ignorance, and obliviousness wouldn't look too good for business.

Before she could call him on it, he seemed keen to get her mind off of the cards. "But if you’re interested in something… simpler," he said, "we do stock jewelry as well. There might be a few pieces of interest."

For the sake of not pushing her luck, she played along. "Oh?" she asked, though she had seen jewelry displayed in the window there more often than not. She turned her attention to the case that he had indicated to her. "What would you recommend?" There was plenty to choose from; that much was clear. Some of it was truly beautiful to look at, but she doubted that any of it would be suitable for wearing without a little bit of effort on her part.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

It might seem like a loss to set aside the cards, like an opportunity had come and gone. But Cas knew better, and so did everyone who conducted serious business in Knockturn Alley. Buying something on-the-spot was a hasty decision, since it very often meant that you didn’t understand the full extent of what you were purchasing. No, in these sorts of risky endeavors, a wise dealer knew to play the long game – to ask about origin or price, to pursue other pieces first before eventually returning to their true interest. It was good not to appear overly eager, and there were benefits to waiting. So as they moved on to jewelry, it didn’t feel like a loss to leave the cards placed casually on the countertop. Cas knew they weren’t done there.

“We’ve just received a new shipment of Spanish gold,” Cas remarked as he slowly made his way over to the display case he had indicated earlier. He pointed out the pieces as he spoke, brilliantly sparkling gold bracelets and rings bearing traditional Spanish symbols. He withdrew a set of bracelets adorned with pomegranates – safe to touch as he had already confirmed the curse needed to be verbally activated. He did enjoy Spanish artifacts immensely – the country’s deep religious history and its violent persecution of paganism held two important implications for collectors. First, that any remaining pagan-spelled objects had immense value and could be sold for increasingly skyrocketing prices. And second, Spanish wizards had enchanted so many artifacts with the intention of detecting or neutralizing magic that there was always a good market for them –magical society had always had a morbid fascination with the groups that vowed to wipe out their existence. None held that twisted curiosity quite so much as collectors. “These bracelets are from the Spanish court. I’ve dated the initial enchantment to the unification of Spain in the late 15th century.”

Although they were his merchandise, Cas still eyed the bracelets with an interested look. He didn’t acquire every piece himself – many pieces had come with the shop when he had taken over, and he also had acquisition specialists that traveled the world searching for rare and extraordinary artifacts. The most cursed or powerful were personally handled by Cas, but everything else…well, his assistant had done a good job with these. Nowhere near as powerful as the tarot cards, but they would still fetch a neat little price. He studied the young woman carefully, trying to gauge her interest. She was reserved, difficult to read. Her accent had told Cas much at the start, but now his gaze settled on her face thoughtfully as he attempted to glean more. “It can be difficult to know where to start, on the first visit,” he said carefully, “I’ve seen many first-time buyers accompanied by a family member. The rest always seem to arrive based on a referral.” It was an extremely roundabout way to ascertain if she ran in pureblood circles, what sort of background she might have. But Cas would never ask directly.

emmanuelle antoinette picquery