Chapter 4
Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside. We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today... Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear! And Meg!" And she offered them the flowerpot. Meg stared at the people watching them. After what seemed like ages, Harry spoke up. "W-what am I supposed to do?" He stammered. "They've never traveled by Floo powder," said Ron suddenly. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot." "Never?" said Mr. Weasley. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?" "I went on the Underground-" "Really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. Were there escapators? How exactly-" "Not now, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never usped it before-" "They'll be all right, Mum," said Fred. "Harry, watch us first." He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished. "You must speak clearly, dear," Mrs. Weasley told Harry as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right grate..." "The right what?" Said Meg nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too. "Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly-" "They'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss," said Mr. Weasley, helping himself to Floo powder, too. "But, dear, if they got lost, how would we ever explain to their aunt and uncle?" "They wouldn't mind," Harry reassured her. "Dudley would think it was brilliant if either of us got lost up a chimney, don't worry about that-" Meg chimed in. "Well...all right...Harry, you go after Arthur, and Meg, you go after Harry," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, when you get into the fire, say where you're going-" "And keep your elbows tucked in," Ron advised. "And your eyes shut," said Mrs. Weasley. "The soot-" "Don't fidget," said Ron. "Or you might, well, fall out of the wrong fireplace-" "But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George." Meg found the amount of information that had been thrown at her quite overwhelming and she watched as her brother glumly took a pinch of the powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped into it. "D-Dia-gon Alley," he coughed, and then he too, was gone. "Okay, your turn, dear." Mrs. Weasley turned to Meg, holding out the flower pot. Meg took a pinch and peered nervously into the fire. She dropped her powder into the fire, and stepped in; the fire felt like a warm breeze; she opened her mouth and instantly swallowed a lot of hot ash. "Diagon Alley," she said then immediately broke into a coughing fit. It felt as though she was being sucked down a giant drain. She seemed to be spinning very fast- the roaring in her ears was deafening- she tried to keep her eyes open but the whirl of green flames made her feel sick- something hard knocked her elbow and she tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning- now it felt as though cold hands were soaping her face- squinting, she saw a blurred stream stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond- she closed her eyes again wishing it would stop because she felt rather ill, and then- she stumbled out and tripped, landing on her hands and knees in a brightly lit room. She could hear the twins snickering as they pulled her up from the ground. "Nice landing, for your fist time." George said, smirking down at her. She glanced around taking in the room, it appeared that they landed in a warmly decorated cafe with large squishy armchairs. In fact, there was only one thing that seemed to be missing from the scene, "Where is Harry?" She questioned after looking around. "Had he already gone through?" Mr. Weasley looked to be slightly paler. There were several wooshing sounds as Ron, Ginny, Percy, and Mrs. Weasley appeared in the room. Mr. Weasley walked to his wife and nervously started to speak, "Now, dear, don't be alarmed, but it would appear that Harry has gone to the wrong fireplace-" Before he had even finished, Mrs. Weasley was out the door and rushing down the street, asking anyone she could find if they had seen a young boy with dark hair come out of a fireplace. Everyone quickly followed her, desperately trying to find Harry. After about 15 minutes of searching, they saw him on the steps of Gringotts with the very large man, that Meg remembered from last year to be Hagrid, and a girl with bushy brown hair that Meg assumed was Hermione. "Harry," Mr. Weasley panted. "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far..." He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic- she's coming now-" "Where did you come out?" Ron asked. "Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid grimly. "Excellent!" said Fred and George together. "We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously. "I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid. Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other. "Oh, Harry- oh, my dear- you could have been anywhere-" Gasping for breath she pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping the soot from Harry's clothes. Mr. Weasley took Harry's glasses, which had been broken somehow, gave them a tap of his wand, and retuned them, good as new. "Well, gotta be off," said Hagrid, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs. Weasley ("Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Hagrid!"). "See yer at Hogwarts!" And he strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street. "Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione as they climbed the Gringotts steps. "Malfoy and his father." Harry had told Meg quite a bit about the sneaky prat, Draco Malfoy, and Meg thought that he did not sound like someone that would be pleasant to run into in an unfamiliar alley. "Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" said Mr. Weasley sharply behind them. "No, he was selling-" "So he's worried," said Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something..." "You be careful, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley sharply as they were bowed into the bank by a goblin at the door. "That family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew-" "So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" said Mr. Weasley indignantly, but he was distracted almost at once by the sight of Hermione's parents, who were standing nervously at the counter that ran all along the great marble hall, waiting for Hermione to introduce them. "But you're Muggles!" said Mr. Weasley delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!" He pointed excitedly at the ten pound notes in Mr. Granger's hand. "Meet you back here," Ron said to Hermione as the Weasleys, Meg, and Harry were led off to their underground vaults by another Gringotts goblin. The vaults were reached by means of small, goblin-driven carts that sped along miniature train tracks through the bank's underground tunnels. Meg enjoyed the breakneck journey down to the Weasleys' vault, but felt dreadful when it was opened. There was a very small pile of sliver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon. Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag. Meg felt even worse when they reached her and her brothers vault. She and Harry tried to block the contents from view as they hastily shoved handfuls of coins into leather bags. Back outside on the marble steps, they all separated. Percy muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Fred and George had spotted their friend from Hogwarts, Lee Jordan. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were going to a secondhand robe shop. Mr. Weasley was insisting on taking the Grangers off to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. "We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks," said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Ginny. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!" She shouted at the twins' retreating backs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione strolled off along the winding, cobbled street, forgetting about Meg and leaving her quite alone. She didn't mind of course, over the past year she had gotten used to taking care of herself. She walked in the direction her brother and his friends had gone hoping she would find the stores she needed. Before long, she spotted her first stop, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. She stepped into the shop, Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. "Hogwarts, dear?" She said when Meg opened her mouth to speak. "Got the lot here this week." Madam Malkin stood Meg on a stool, slipped a long robe over her head, and began to pin it to the right length. After what seemed to be ages, Madam Malken said, "That's you done, my dear," and Meg hopped down from the footstool and left, new uniform in hand. She got her cauldron, scales, a telescope, and her basic potion ingredients. She looked into the window of a shop with a fair amount of animal noises coming from it, looking back at her from the other side of the glass was a small, scruffy looking kitten. Several minutes later, she left the shop with the soft brown kitten she had named Colleen. Now, the only thing she needed, apart from her books, was her wand. She stood nervously outside of Ollivanders, took a deep breath, and entered. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair. Meg felt strangely as though she had entered a very strict library; she looked around at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The very dust and silence here seemed to tingle with some strange magic, it made Meg rather uncomfortable. "Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Meg jumped. An old man was standing before her, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. "Hello," said Meg awkwardly. "Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I knew I'd be seeing you soon. Megan Potter." It wasn't a question. "You look so much like your mother. It still seems like only yesterday she was in here herself buying her first wand." He pulled out a long tape measure. With silver markings out of his pocket. "Hold out your wand arm. That's it." He measured Meg from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Ms. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another witch orwizard's wand." Meg suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between her nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes. "That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Ms. Potter. Try this one. Maple and unicorn hair. Ten inches. Brittle. Just take it and give it a wave." Meg took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once. "Willow and phoenix feather. Nine inches. Swishy. Go on, try it out." Meg tried- but she had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander. "No, no- here, ebony and dragon heartstring. Ten inches. Pliable." Meg took the wand. She felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. She raised the wand above her head, brought it down through the dusty air and a stream of emerald sparks shot from the end like fireworks, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Mr. Ollivander clapped and cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh very good!" He put Meg's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper. She paid seven gold Galleons for her wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed her from his shop. Meg was stunned, she had managed to get all of this done in just under an hour. Now shee only had to find Flourish and Blotts. As she approached it, she was surprised to see a larg crowed jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows: GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his auto biography MAGICAL ME today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.
"We can actually meet him! I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!" Meg looked toward the high pitched squeal and saw Harry and his friends. She made her way towards them, fighting the crowd. The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasleys age. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please, ladies... Don't push, there...mind the books, now..." Meg followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Glideroy Lockhart was signing his books. Meg grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Mr. and Mrs. Granger. "Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a minute..." Glideroy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me- not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair. A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash. "Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the Daily Prophet-" "Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it. Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron- and then he saw Harry. He stared for a few seconds, eyes flicking between Harry and Meg. Then he lept to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Harry and Megan Potter?" The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry and Meg by the arms, and pulled them to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Meg felt her face burn and she could see Harry's doing the same as Lockhart shook their hands furiously for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys. "Nice big smile, Harry," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. "You too, Megan," "Um, it's just Meg, sir" If he had heard her he didn't bother showing it. "Together the three of us are worth the front page." When he finally let go of their hands, Meg could hardly feel her fingers. She and Harry tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw his arms around their shoulders and clamped them tightly to his sides. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry and Megan stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, they only wanted to buy my autobiography- which I shall be happy to present to them now, free of charge-" The crowd applauded again. "They had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving them a little shake, "that they would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. They, and their schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" The crowd cheered and clapped and Meg found herself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, she managed to make her way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, with her brother, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron. "You have these," Harry mumbled to Ginny, tipping his stack of books into herr cauldron. "I'll buy my own-" "Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice that Meg found highly pompous. She looked towards the voice and saw her brother face to face with a thin, blonde boy who was wearing a most unattractive sneer. Judging by the bad attitude, Meg assumed this boy was Draco Malfoy. "Famous Harry Potter," he said. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page." "Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy. "Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" drawled Malfoy. Ginny went scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart's books. "Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoyas if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?" "Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all of those." Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into his sisters cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket. "Ron!" Said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crouded in here, let's go outside." "Well, well, well- Arthur Weasley." It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in the same unattractive way. "Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly. "Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?" He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginer's Guide to Transfiguration. "Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of a wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?" Mr. Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny. "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of a wizard, Malfoy," he said. "Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley...and I thought your family could sink no lower-" there was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the croud stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please- please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all- "Break it up, there, gents, break it up-" Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny's old Trasfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice. "Here, girl- take your book- it's the best your father can give you-" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop. "Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that- no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter- bad blood, that's what it is- come on now- let's get outta here." He assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs. Weasley beside herself with fury. "A fine example to set for your children...brawling in public...what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought-" "He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report- said it was all publicity-" But it was a subdued group that headed to the fireside in the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry, Meg, the Weasleys, and all their shopping would be traveling back to the Burrow using Floo Powder. They said good-by to the Grangers, who were leaving the pub for the Muggle street on the other side; Mr. Weasley started to ask them how bus stops worked, but stopped quickly at the look on Mrs. Weasley's face. Meg was sure that Floo powder was her least favorite way to travel.
