2 October, 1893 — Fogg's Jewelry Shop, Knockturn Alley

This was the first time Francesca was conducting reconnaissance in her human form. She thought she was doing an admirable job, but the heavy mourning attire that cloaked her facial features and obscured some of her subtler body language was likely doing some of the heavy lifting as well. The mourning attire felt like as disguise of its own, just as effective as owl wings; no one looked her direction as she made her way through Diagon Alley and into Knockturn, so obviously no one took note of her.

It had taken a bit of digging to find the shop, but not much. She had the historical records of the entire Auror Department at her fingertips when she was working, after all, and there was very little that wasn't catalogued there if one knew where to look. Francesca loved a well-organized records system. Apparently this was a passion that she and her late husband shared, because after his death she'd found chronicles of letters stored away, organized by date and still in pristine condition. In some of the more recent ones the woman hadn't signed her full name, but in the beginning they had been less bold: Miss Fogg. There were references here and there to 'the shop,' and once she'd had the name it was trivial to find the address of the shop in question.

So now here she was, about to meet The Woman. Francesca wasn't sure what to expect. Someone younger, prettier, nicer? Or one of those loose women, a sultry seductress whose behavior and wardrobe were both barely permissible in polite society? This was Knockturn Alley, after all. How on earth had Finlay even met this woman?

Well, whatever her expectations were, they were about to meet reality. She adjusted the black crepe veil over her face and entered the shop.

---

A place full of cursed objects was the worst place to be when you were grieving. She had spent the first few days after finding out about Finlay's death crying, but her brother wouldn't have her take a day off. She couldn't just tell him that she had just lost the love of her life either, as Finlay had always been a secret and even Kitty had some sense of practicality about keeping him that way. So she had lied that she had been careless with one of the earrings that caused melancholia and her brother had largely ignored her because that was what he always did.

The saddest thing about Finlay was that she couldn't properly mourn him. She couldn't even go to his funeral. Thus, her sadness over his death was mixed with a sadness she'd been carrying during all three years of their relationship. Sadness over being the other woman. They had been planning to elope to the States, but deep down, Kitty had always known that this would never have happened. Even if the dragons hadn't killed him, the chances of a man leaving his wife were close to zero... And yet she'd chosen all those years to ignore this doubt, because it was too painful to think of how much time she'd invested on Finlay.

Even now that he was dead she was painting an idealized version of him. Perhaps it was even easier to make a mythology around him. Finlay was kind, romantic, a victim of a terrible marriage with an evil woman! If only they had met earlier, he would have married her and they would have been so happy, with a house full of children!

She'd gone outside for a smoke as she'd gotten emotional and close to tears and it was from outside that she watched the widow come in. The sight only made her more miserable, thinking about how she couldn't properly go into mourning for her Finlay. Thankfully, her 'uniform' for while at the shop was a somber black robe anyway.

She took a last drag and threw the cigarette on the ground, stomping it with her shoe and walked inside the shop. "Welcome to Fogg's Jewellery! How can I help you today?" she'd doned her cheerful customer service job, though she wasn't fooling anyone with her red trimmed eyes.

---

The shop was empty when she walked in, which momentarily shook her confidence. She had wanted to passively observe the woman, and she wasn't sure she was bold enough to ring a bell or call for her. She certainly wasn't interested in any of the wares. She could pretend to browse and see whether anyone came out, or she could abandon this effort and leave.

But someone came in behind her, who apparently worked here. Her outfit was simple, but her eyes were red. She'd been crying — over Finlay, presumably, if this was Miss Fogg. That or she was a drug addict. Francesca wasn't ruling anything out.

"I'm — just browsing," she said, taking a step aside so that the woman could move past her (a tall order, given the sheer girth of this black poof mourning skirt). "For a birthday present."

---

In spite of her deep sadness, Kitty couldn't help a snort.

"Are you sure you've got the right shop?" she asked. People rarely came to Fogg's Jewellery to buy birthday presents... at least not for loved ones. They sold the kind of products that you would only give to your enemy.

She regarded the woman, who was clad in the garments of deep mourning. Perhaps she wanted to take revenge on whoever had put her in this predicament? Or maybe she was pretending to be a mourner, wearing the veil to be as discreet as possible. Kitty suspected that a lot of the people who came to the shop had taken Polyjuice potion before coming, just to get any suspicion of having shopped there away. They hardly had any customers with accounts, most of them paid with coin.

"And what kind of present are you looking for? Is it for a man or a woman?"

---

Francesca's face twisted as the other woman laughed at her. Probably not for the first time, she thought darkly. Finlay and Kitty had probably shared many a laugh at her expense.

She steeled herself for the conversation. She was here to gather information about what sort of woman this was, not to confront her (not yet) so she needed to keep her emotions in check and not give herself away. She was undercover. This was espionage.

"For a woman," she said simply. "One who has wronged me deeply. And for quite a long time."

---

This woman was planning vengeance.

Kitty didn't recognize her, so she wasn't going to suggest any of the strongly cursed jewellery that they kept in a safe in the back.

"I see -- they say a woman's biggest asset is her beauty, perhaps you could target the feature that is her strongest," Kitty began. She opened a glass case and levitated some necklaces to the counter. "This one-" she pointed at a simple silver one with blue and white stones, "Will make her hair thin out and fall for some months to a year, depending on how strong her body will be against the curse. Then this one --" she pointed at one with (fake) rubies, "will make her flat chested, perfect for a woman with an ample bossom. And this one --" she pointed at a cameo necklacee, "Will give her facial hair."

---

The woman was bringing out jewelry, but Francesca didn't pay much attention to any of the wares; she was instead watching the woman's face critically. She hadn't recognized Francesca yet, and maybe she wouldn't at all.

"No," Francesca said dismissively. "I don't think beauty is her strongest asset."

---

"Alright then," Kitty replied. If this was a matter of envy, then the woman's opinion could be biased. People tended to view their "rivals" as less attractive. But this wasn't Kitty's place to judge, at the end of the day, she wanted to make a sale.

"In what way would you want to inconvenience this person?" After all, this was the Foggs' products -- to the general public. Trinkets cursed enough to make someone's life a bit more difficult.

---

Francesca considered. "I should like her to feel humiliated. Not necessarily publicly shamed, but at least very personally humiliated. I believe she deserves as much."

Betrayed was another word that came to mind, but that wasn't necessarily something she could assign to Kitty Fogg. This woman had no ties to her; no trust to betray. Finlay held that distinction, but Finlay was dead and beyond her reach.

She could also have said financially ruined, but Francesca hardly intended to stay that way.

---

This was... tough. Their products did the sort of petty damage that was more visible: pimples, fallen hair, bad breath. There were some mood altering ones, but those usually made the wearer deeply sad. Humiliation was a much trickier feeling and Kitty was honestly not sure if she had any product to offer.

"What has she done to you, if I may ask?" Kitty carefully asked. It would be much easier to find a way to humiliate this stranger, if she knew of her offence.

---

Francesca fixed Miss Fogg with a hard stare. She wondered if it was coming across through the thick mourning veil and almost pulled it back so that Fogg might feel the full impact of her glower.

"Siphoning away what was rightfully mine," Francesca said; whether she was talking about Finlay's attention or their family finances was debatable. "But circumstances have put a stop to that."

---

Kitty was starting to feel uncomfortable. The woman was intense and her mourning clothing didn't help in making her any less approachable. She was starting to feel like the woman didn't so much want to buy an item to get back to that other woman, and rather wanted to rant about whatever had happened.

"Well, that's good!" Kitty chirped. "Perhaps a pair of earrings that will make her ears clogged?" They needed to get back to the more practical aspect of things. This customer was much too focused on getting some figurative form of revenge that Fogg's jewellery probably couldn't accommodate her with.

---

Francesca was disappointed by the woman's response. She had no interest in any of their products, and certainly didn't want to waste her time discussing them.

"I also need to discuss whether you have any layaway plans," she said briskly. "You see, I can't pay today. Due to circumstances," she said with a dramatic lowering of her voice, implying both that it should have been obvious what she meant by that but that it would have been horribly uncouth to ask. "But I have several months before I need the piece. And I suspect my husband may already have an account here that I could charge it to."

---

The Foggs didn't really do layaway plans. For one, their customers themselves preferred to pay in coin and not have any reports showing what type of products they've purchased, so anything that went too far wasn't pinned on them. They did have some customers with something like accounts, the ones who purchased the incredibly dangerous jewellery that they kept in the back.

Even if her husband had an account, he would have known to give his wife a reference letter, as proof of that. The Foggs were very careful as to who they let into their more 'eclectic' clientele, just as these customers expected great secrecy from their part.

"We have plenty of budget options," Kitty told the woman. "And our customers tend to prefer coin, but do tell me your husband's name, perhaps we could arrange a discount if he's a loyal one."

---

"He's not a loyal anything," Francesca snapped. She hadn't been planning to confront the woman today, but now that she was here and the ball was rolling she didn't think she could help herself. Besides, she didn't need a whole venture to gather information — she'd sized up Kitty Fogg in the first ten seconds of meeting her. "His name was Finlay McKinnon."

---

At the sound of his name, Kitty froze. She wondered if she'd touched one of the cursed objects by mistake and it froze the blood in her. She just stood there, mouth slightly agape, starring at the woman who had revealed to be Finlay's wife.

Over the years, Kitty had heard so many things about that vile, vile woman. How cruel she was, how neglectful of the children, cold and unkind! At first, Finlay had just complained about her coldness and her desire to work and how neglected he felt as a result. Kitty had empathized with that, though having worked all her life, she couldn't exactly begrudge a woman for doing the same. Then, at times when the perfection had started to crack, Finlay had revealed the true evil of his wife.

And now this apparently murderous woman was here, at her shop!

In spite of her best judgement, Kitty drew her wand out and pointed it at the other woman in a defensive manner. "Y-you n-need to leave!" She had hoped to sound commanding, but her voice came out quiet and screechy instead.

---