Chapter Seventeen – At Flourish and Blotts

They passed the Quidditch supply store on their way to purchase textbooks. Blaise nudged Harry's side and nodded to the broom featured in the window display. Harry looked at the broomstick and had to catch his breath. It was the newest broom in the Nimbus series, the same brand Mrs. Zabini had bought for him last Christmas, only the 2001 edition looked even more streamlined than the last. Harry ached to know how fast it could fly. He stopped in his tracks, taking in every feature of the new model, and thinking to himself that if he had this broom, he would easily take the seeker position on the Slytherin team this year.

"Mum? Can I have a new broom?" Blaise asked his mother, pointing at the window display.

But Blaise wasn't going to have as much luck with a new broom as he had with his new pet. Mrs. Zabini arched an eyebrow and asked, "What's wrong with the broom I bought you last year?"

"Nothing. But this is the Nimbus 2001. I'll bet it's the fastest broom ever made!"

"Fast brooms are what killed your step-father Icarus, remember?"

"That was a prototype."

"I'm not getting you a new broom every time a new model is released, Blaise."

"But..."

"End of discussion."

Mrs. Zabini began walking down the street once again. Blaise followed at a slower pace, pouting magnificently. Millie, who'd never cared much about flying anyway, resumed her walk with a quiet, "Coming, Harry?"

Harry gave one last look at the glorious broom, then jogged to catch up with the long strides of his taller friends. He knew he could afford the Nimbus 2001 with the money jangling in his pocket, but it didn't seem right for him to purchase a new broom when Blaise was denied the same gift. Plus, he didn't want to seem ungrateful for the broom Mrs. Zabini had given him last year.

They reached Flourish and Blotts in no time at all, though Harry was at a loss to see how they would get in. The bookstore, always crowded by stacks and stacks of heavy books, was now fit to burst with all the people crowding through its open door. The line was so long they were spilling into the street, and Harry couldn't help but notice most of them were witches.

The explanation was soon apparent. The window display boasted the entire collection of Gilderoy Lockhart's books, their covers and titles dwarfed by a large poster of the wizard himself. Harry looked at the portrait, which was smiling and waving at the witches in line who tittered and fussed with their hair as if they'd been standing in front of the real thing. Harry saw shining words printed below the smiling face, proclaiming that the author would be having a book signing that very afternoon.

"You mean we actually get to meet him?" Blaise said with a laugh. He seemed excited by the prospect of meeting a wizard who had gained such sudden fame.

Millie groaned as she too spotted the date on the poster. "Oh no. My mum hasn't stopped talking about him all summer. I think she fancies him."

"Well, I've never heard of any Gilderoy Lockhart," Mrs. Zabini said, eyeing the handsome image with interest, "We'll have to see if he's worth all the fuss."

They had to wait in the crush struggling to enter the door, but soon enough, they were in. A harassed looking shop clerk was trying to shepherd the throng of witches into an orderly line, but they all resolutely ignored him, as each witch in the shop craned her neck to get a better view of the blond-haired, blue-eyed wizard grinning as broadly as his portrait. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting at a table on a sort of raised dais, surrounded by yet more copies of his book, each cover displaying his face and all his bright, white teeth.

"Why don't I get us a place in line?" Mrs. Zabini suggested, casting her eyes around the room to see where exactly the line began, "You can look among the shelves for the other books on your list."

They split up, dodging around the bodies of Lockhart's adoring fans to find their school supplies. Harry rummaged around the transfiguration books, searching for the assigned reading ordered by McGonagall that year. Landing on the correct text, Standard Book of Spells: Grade 2, he grabbed three copies, then went in search of the others. Blaise was lost somewhere in the herbology section, but Harry spotted Millie standing near the window display. He drew up to her side, and saw the look of distaste she was giving the smiling face on the novels.

"I can't believe we need to buy all of these," Millie said, "I'll bet the new Defense Against the Darks Arts teacher is a woman."

Harry looked at the various books on display, and suddenly thought of Millie's parents and their shabby finery. Millie was never dressed in robes that looked second-hand, but Harry wondered if the added expense of all these textbooks was really something they could afford. He wanted to help, but he didn't want to insult Millie. Thinking quickly, he began to gather the books in his arms.

"We should buy one set to share," Harry said, "You're right, it doesn't make sense to buy all of these books three times over. I was going to ask you to do my dark arts assignments anyway."

Thankfully, Millie didn't appear to suspect his real intentions. She merely nodded her head at the practicality of this plan, and said, "I'll do it if you do all of my transfiguration homework this year."

"Deal," Harry said instantly. It was no more than the plan they already worked out last year. He didn't need to ask to know that Blaise would gladly lend his charms talent to their homework-completion scheme.

Blaise appeared again just as Harry's thoughts had strayed to him. He clutched at his chest dramatically, gasping for air.

"I've only just made escaped," he said, "I thought I'd never make it out alive."

"Did you get the books?" Millie asked, ignoring his dramatics.

Blaise brandished a set of three potions books and the assigned charms reading, "Here, take them! I see how you are. Only using me to get to these books..."

"Speaking of using you," said Harry, "We're gonna split the homework again this year, so Millie and I are only getting one set of Lockhart's books."

"Not me!" Blaise declared, "I'm getting a signed set!"

"Really?" Millie asked, "You actually care about some puffed-up overnight celebrity?"

"And why not? These signed copies might be worth something someday. Actually, now that I think of it, it is better that we share a set. That way I can keep the signed ones in mint condition."

They rejoined Mrs. Zabini. While they had searched for their school books, she had worked her way nearly to the front of Lockhart's autograph line. Unlike the other witches, she appeared far less fussy, and didn't raise a hand to pat her hair the whole time she was waiting. Instead, Harry could detect a little self-satisfied smile at the corner of her mouth, as if she found the whole scenario highly amusing.

"Got them," Blaise said as they rejoined his mother. Mrs. Zabini accepted the set of books for the signing and glanced over the others in Blaise's hands. Harry and Millie stood nearby, but they hung back slightly, having already decided their books didn't need a signature.

Harry was just starting to wonder if they had better go make their purchases while Mrs. Zabini finished her business with the famous author, when she reached the front of the line. Gilderoy Lockhart's face brightened at the sight of this new fan. Harry was amazed his grin could grow even wider than it had been before. Harry figured he could see every one of Lockhart's teeth as he turned his sparkling eyes toward Mrs. Zabini.

Harry could hear Lockhart grandly ask for her name, followed by Mrs. Zabini's quiet response. Blaise stood proudly by his mother's side as he was introduced, and Mrs. Zabini explained that Blaise and his friends needed Lockhart's books for their second year at Hogwarts.

"Ah, yes! Hogwarts students!" Lockhart said with more feeling than the simple comment called for. He broke his enchanted gaze from Mrs. Zabini to beam at her son, then his eyes swept quickly over Harry and Millie, clearly believing them to be beneath his notice. But then he gave a start, and took a second look at Harry. Harry felt his stomach clench as Lockhart's gaze traveled from his round glasses to his forehead, and Harry realized that whatever Clara had done to try to improve his messy hair had left his scar completely exposed.

"I don't believe it!" Lockhart exclaimed. "Can it be possible?"

He was already the center of attention, but his loud cry silenced all the chattering of his eager fans as they pressed closer, desperate to see what had so captivated their idol's attention.

Lockhart moved around the wooden table and took Harry by the arm, pulling him closer until Harry was forced to stand side by side with him on the small platform. To his horror, a reporter from the Daily Prophet immediately began snapping pictures.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Lockhart began grandly, "When young Harry Potter walked into this establishment to get his signed copy of my autobiography, Magical Me," pause for wink, cameras flash, "He had no idea he would soon get the real thing! That's right witches and warlocks, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, have accepted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd burst into applause, which thankfully drowned out the noise of Blaise and Millie's laughter, but unfortunately led to more camera flashes. Soon Harry was being forced to shake hands with Lockhart while accepting a copy of his autobiography.

"And that's not all!" Lockhart added, "I will grant as a special favor to Mr. Potter my entire collection of works, free of charge! May he use them to his advantage in my classes this year."

He thrust the books into Harry's hands while simultaneously grasping for another handshake.

"Smile, Harry," he said in an undertone, "This might even make the front page!"

With Lockhart's publicity stunt out of the way, Harry was free to walk numbly back to his friends. Blaise and Millie had covered their mouths to suppress their giggles.

"You take these," Harry said, thrusting the books at Millie in disgust, "I think I'd prefer to buy my own."

"Don't be stupid, Harry," Millie said, "You might not like the attention, but it's free books. We'll just share this set."

"Besides," added Blaise with a grin, "Do you really want to add to his book sales after that stunt?"

Harry had to agree that he didn't enjoy the idea of adding to Lockhart's wealth and celebrity any more than he already had, willingly or not. He quietly took his stack of ill-gotten books from Millie, and waited for Mrs. Zabini to finish getting her copies signed for Blaise. Harry wasn't at all surprised to see that Lockhart was also giving her a free copy of his memoirs. He signed the inside flap and passed the book to her with a debonair wink. It seemed to Harry that he spent more time chatting with Mrs. Zabini than he did his other fans.

The action was not lost on Blaise, who quickly confronted his mother has they made their way slowly through the ever-growing crowd of witches, with as much difficulty as trout moving upstream.

"Mr. Lockhart seems charming," Mrs. Zabini said, "How lucky that he'll be your new professor this year."

"Mum, you cannot be serious," Blaise whined, "Forget new teachers! If that guy becomes my new step-dad, I'm running away from home!"

Mrs. Zabini merely laughed at her son and proceeded them out the door of the bookshop. They had to squeeze through a small gap in the crowd just before the door, single-file. Harry was last, keeping his head down to avoid the curious stares of the various witches who had witnessed Lockhart's spectacle. Just as he was about to slip outside, he heard a voice mutter, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Bet you loved that, Potter. Do you ever get tired of showing off?"

Harry's head snapped in the direction of the voice, and he was surprised to see Ronald Weasley. The Gryffindor student was standing among the rest of his family, unmistakable thanks to the brilliancy of their bright red hair. Ron was positively glaring at Harry, though his relatives were all too busy to pay this confrontation any mind. That is, all but one. The youngest child and only girl was standing next to her brother, partially hidden behind him. Harry remembered seeing her on the platform just before his first year. Now she was watching him, her brown eyes flashing rapidly between her brother and Harry, as if frightened by what was happening.

Harry could have said something in response, but Millie had already bulldozed a path for him through the crowd, and was calling from outside. Harry decided to ignore Ron, but he still felt the injustice of the accusation. Why would anyone think he could enjoy that embarrassing scene?

They proceeded back down the street, his friends not realizing anything was amiss, or perhaps thinking he was still sullen over the encounter with Lockhart. Harry tried to regain the positive mood of he morning, and forced himself to smile at Blaise's jokes and Millie's humorous observations of the passerby. He was just starting to think he could put the unpleasantness of the bookstore behind him, when his calm was once again shattered by the appearance of Lucius Malfoy and his son, Draco.

"Edana! Lovely to see you," Mr. Malfoy said regally, offering his hand to Blaise's mother, "I didn't know you had business in Diagon Alley today. If you had told me, I would have offered to see to it myself."

"That's kind of you," said Edana with a chilly smile, "But I needed to help the children get their school supplies, and it's a little more than I would feel comfortable asking of you."

While Mr. Malfoy made several small speeches about how it really would be no trouble at all, Edana cast her eyes around the crowd, seeming disappointed that her search yielded no results.

"But where is Narcissa?" she asked, cutting across some pointless remark that Mr. Malfoy was making for her benefit.

"At home," was the brief response.

"I would have thought Narcissa would come to assist Draco with his school shopping."

Mr. Malfoy cringed, "Ah yes, as to that, Draco's school things have already been seen to. My business is of another nature entirely... I assume you've heard of the raids at the Ministry?"

Mrs. Zabini gave a wave of her hand, as if to signify that he should continue. With her permission, Mr. Malfoy seemed to gain confidence, perhaps thinking he'd found someone of a kindred mind.

"That pugnacious Arthur Weasley is behind it all, of course. Pointless endeavor, trying to find dark magic relics in the homes of people who are his betters, but somehow he's frightened the Minister into agreement. I am above suspicion, of course, but there are a few family heirlooms that could be... uh... embarrassing if detected..."

"So naturally you're looking for a buyer hereabouts," Mrs. Zabini completed for him, sparing him the difficulty of making excuses.

Mr. Malfoy looked properly relieved, "Yes indeed. I see you understand."

"Not at all," Mrs. Zabini said with a sharp smile, "My family never kept any heirlooms that would embarrass me."

Mr. Malfoy seemed unsure if she were serious or in jest, so he laughed to cover his discomfort.

During this interaction, Harry and Draco had stood in complete silence, staring at each other with open dislike. Harry had taken offense to Draco's behavior from the very beginning of their first year, and the relationship had not improved on a longer acquaintance. On Draco's part, he seemed to be unsure whether he wanted to be Harry's friend, or his most hated rival.

Finally, Draco was no longer able to contain himself, and he spit out "Potter," as if the word were poison to him.

"Malfoy," Harry said with equal venom.

The family name caught the attention of the elder, and Lucius Malfoy turned his attention from Mrs. Zabini to Harry for the first time.

"Ah yes! I had heard that Harry Potter was again your guest, Edana."

Mrs. Zabini offered no response, and Harry felt compelled to say something.

"Hello again, Mr. Malfoy," he said with much reluctance.

"Are you enjoying your summer?"

Harry nodded. He thought if he said very little, it would discourage Mr. Malfoy from speaking to him any more than absolutely necessary.

Mr. Malfoy smiled, "Of course you are. Far better to be among a wizarding family than those muggles you were forced to stay with, I imagine?"

He was absolutely right, but Harry wasn't going to agree with him if he could help it.

Seeing that Harry had no intention to respond, he added, "Well, if Edana and Blaise can ever spare you, you're always welcome to stay at Malfoy manor."

It was the same offer Draco had made him many times before, and Harry was no less anxious to refuse outright. But before he could think of a proper way to turn down the offer, conscious that he risked insulting the husband of one of Mrs. Zabini's friends, Millie muttered something under her breath, just behind Harry's shoulder.

"I think I'd rather take my chances with the muggles, if I were you."

She hadn't whispered softly enough, and the comment was not lost on the Malfoys.

"I beg your pardon?" said Mr. Malfoy with ill-concealed outrage, "And who might you be?"

"She's Millicent Bulstrode, father," Draco said, a sarcastic smile on his face.

"A Bulstrode, is it?" Mr. Malfoy said, looking over Millie from head to toe as if she were some large, grotesque variety of beetle. "Yes, you have the look of your father about you." He smiled then, as if he were paying her a great compliment, "Well, well... I had heard the Bulstrodes were in disgrace, but to think they'd fall in with blood traitors like the Weasleys..."

Millie dropped the books in her arms to the ground and made a sudden lunge toward Mr. Malfoy, who actually took a step back in alarm, but Mrs. Zabini placed a gentle hand on Millie's shoulder. She wasn't attempting to restrain the girl, but the light gesture was enough to recall Millie to her senses. She made no more moves to assault Mr. Malfoy or his son.

Mr. Malfoy straightened his robes and tried on a mask of dignity, but his next words were silenced by Edana, who brought their conversation to an abrupt end.

"Lovely to see you, Lucius," she said while Millie stooped down to collect her fallen books, "Give my best to Narcissa, will you? It's been too long, she and I should get together for tea some afternoon."

"I'm sure she'd be delighted," Lucius said with a bow, casting one last hateful stare at Millie before Mrs. Zabini swept the children down the street.

"Pompous idiot. Don't know what Cissa sees in him," Harry heard her mutter as they walked away.