Anatomy of a Dream

"What will become of you? What will your destiny be? Where can you hide your fearful passions? What terrors, what compassion you inspire, what immense and awesome sadness you arouse in those mortals called to contemplate so much shame and horror, so many crimes..."

Gustave Moreau

It all started when Tom Riddle stole something from Mr. Burke's shop on Knockturn Alley. His best friend Julian Burke had invited him to spend the last two weeks of the summer holidays at his house, and Tom had seized the opportunity to leave Stockwell Orphanage. He hated the place, with its leaky roof and draughty halls; the windows that stuck halfway so that they could never be fully closed in winter, nor properly opened in summer. He hated the other children, the ignorant, sniveling nitwits that seemed, to him, completely worthless.

The Burke family lived in the shabby little flat above Mr. Burke's store. There were two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a small parlor, where Mrs. Burke spent most of her days. She was a tiny woman, frail and ill, and none of the potions from St. Mungo's Pharmacy seemed to do any good. Despite the summer heat, she huddled close to the fire, doing small tasks, like darning Mr. Burke's socks and repairing tears in Julian's robes, stopping only to cough violently or wrap her shawl more tightly about her. She adored her husband and son, and was always calling Julian over to her side in order to fuss over the state of his jacket, to smooth his hair, and to smother him with kisses. She was kind to Tom, and was always pressing sweets on him, or inviting him to warm himself beside the fire.

"Dear Tom," she would say, plucking at his arm with her tiny hands, "Do sit down and have a rest. You look so pale!"

Mr. Burke's business partner Mr. Borgin lived two houses down the road. He and his sister, Juno, were frequent visitors at the Burke residence.

It was a week before school was to start, and Tom was bored. He and Julian had already gotten all their school supplies yesterday, and it seemed they had sampled every amusement that Knockturn Alley had to offer, including the Hag's Hutch, which sold all sorts of disgusting--and often illicit--potion ingredients, the Blue Razor, a particularly nasty pub where an old man had offered them twenty galleons to kill his daughter-in-law (Tom was intrigued, but Julian had caught his arm and dragged him away), and Yurk's Tavern, where they had placed bets on illegal redcap fights. However, a shrewd goblin watchman had turned them away from the doors of the famous polyjuice brothel, the Midnight Club ("We'll have to ask Dominic about getting us in later," said Julian, referring to the owner's son, who was a classmate of theirs).

He felt claustrophobic in the little apartment; also, it was desperately hot because of Mrs. Burke's fire, and he wanted nothing more to do than escape. Luckily, Mr. Burke could oblige.

"Julian, would you and Tom mind running an errand for me?"

Julian looked up from the toast he was buttering and shrugged. "All right, yeah."

"Don't say 'yeah,' darling," chimed in Mrs. Burke. "It's common."

"What do you want us to do, Dad?"

"I promised Clotho Fortuna I would deliver this parcel to her today, but Caesar and I have a rendezvous with an important client this afternoon, and I won't have time."

"Who's the client?"

Mr. Burke hesitated; loquacity was not a virtue in his line of business. Still, his son was going to inherit the store one day...

"Tarquin Parkinson claims to have several extremely valuable items he recently 'liberated' from Persia...the veracity of that remains to be seen, however."

"What's in the parcel for Mrs. Fortuna?"

"I'm not sure if it's a good idea..."

"Oh, come off it, Dad. You act as if Tom and I are going to go hightailing off to the Ministry as soon as you turn around. It's not like I'm going to use it or anything. I just want to know what it is."

"It's Ariadne Thread," said Mr. Burke.

"Arid knee thread?" echoed Julian, clearly puzzled.

Mr. Burke continued, "Mrs. Fortuna is a seamstress by trade. She makes ordinary dress robes, cloaks, and the like, but sometimes she gets...special orders. The Ariadne Thread allows her to weave the life force of a witch or wizard into the cloth. Their lives become linked to the garment. It's also used in the manufacturing of Invisibility Cloaks."

The clock struck ten then. It was a huge cuckoo clock that dominated the mantelpiece. The cuckoo was an enormous black bird with red eyes that crowed raucously to announce the beginning of a new hour.

"Well, I must be off. Mrs. Fortuna's shop is on Fate Alley. Number seven, I think." He looked over at his wife, who was nodding by the fire, and his mouth tightened. "And boys," he said, a note of warning in his voice, "Try not to look at the tapestries."