The Other Side of the Mirror
Year Two
Chapter One
-At Flourish and Blotts -
"Over here!" Brandon yelled and Adrian hurled the Quaffle towards him. They sped towards their goal, Marcus and Sandra in hot pursuit. As a Bludger flew past Draco, Karl shot up and hit it away from him.
"Nice one, Karl!" Draco said.
Karl grinned and sped away. Draco, holding onto his broom with one hand, wiped away the perspiration on his forehead. It was a steamy July afternoon and although it hadn't been bad when they had started in the morning, it was becoming unbearable as the day dragged on.
Then he smiled. Only one more month until he was back at Hogwarts. His smile disappeared. Back with Potter, brilliant, I'm so thrilled. Just what I want to do. Put up with more Potter and Weasley. Oh well, this year we'll get the House Cup and put those Gryffindors back in their place.
Draco scanned his friends as their game went on beneath him. Carolina, now in her sixth year, played Keeper as always, and Tawny was at the other goals. Over the summer, Karl had managed to grow about a foot and was about a half a foot taller than Draco, who had sprouted a few inches. Karl's red hair had darkened and was now a dark brown, slightly tinged with red.
Draco watched as Blaise Zabini, a second-year, hit a Bludger towards Sandra as she sped towards her goal. He and Blaise had become pretty good friends over the past few months after Brandon had introduced them at the beginning of summer. Blaise was short, about the same height as Draco, and had flaming red-hair. He had the pale skin to go along with it.
A golden flash by his face drew him away from his thoughts and he spotted the Snitch. He dove down after it, Terrace at his heels. Draco reached out, shooting forward as Terrace inched closer. Draco swept his hand down, feeling the cool metal in his hand. He landed, wiping the sweat away from his eyes.
"I got the Snitch!" he yelled and his friends halted in their game, landing around him after they had collected the Bludgers.
"Finally! I thought I was going to burn up to ashes if we stayed out much longer!" Tawny exclaimed.
"It was becoming rather steamy, wasn't it?" Marcus asked, smiling.
"That was really long!" Crabbe exclaimed, breathing hard.
"And hot," Goyle said, nodding.
"What can you expect for July?" Adrian asked.
"At least the matches during school are in cooler weather," Karl said.
"Yeah, lucky you," Draco muttered quietly. He still couldn't believe that he hadn't made the team the previous year, but if he didn't make the team this year, he didn't know what he was going to do.
"Well, I'm going to head home. We're having some guests over for dinner tonight so I have to help my mother make sure everything is ready," Carolina said. "Those house-elves do a decent job, but sometimes, there's an odd one in the batch and it ruins everything."
"I know what you mean," Draco said. "One of our house-elves, Dobby, he's been with us for a long time, but I think he's beginning to go senile. I don't think he's that old, but sometimes he makes the stupidest mistakes. Of course, he could be doing that on purpose, but I don't see why he would want to make my father angry."
"No, that would be a bad thing," Blaise agreed, having seen Draco's father's tempers quite often.
"I think a nice cold bath is calling me at the present," Brandon said, "and I'm going to take full advantage."
"Last match of the summer," Sandra said, "I'll see the rest of you back at school."
They nodded and she, Carolina, and Brandon left.
"When are you going to Diagon Alley?" Blaise asked.
Draco shrugged. "I think we're going next week sometime." Draco smiled. "Maybe I'll get the racing broom I want."
"Nimbus 2001, right?" Marcus asked, grinning. "Those brooms are supposed to be tons faster than the Nimbus 2000 and . . . well, it would be brilliant if we could get a hold of some of those for the team this year. Gryffindor wouldn't stand a chance against us."
Adrian and Draco smiled. "Then we'd win the House Championship, again," Adrian said.
"And maybe the House Cup along with it," Karl added.
"Not if Gryffindor pulls what they did last year," Terrace said grumpily.
"Let's not talk about Gryffindor. It'll just foul our moods," Blaise said.
"Well, I'm getting rather hot standing out here talking, not doing much of anything, so I think I'm going to head back. I'll see you at school, or at Diagon Alley, whichever comes first," Tawny said.
"I'll see you then," Draco said as Tawny and Terrace left.
"I'm going to head back for now. I'll see you later," Blaise said and headed off towards home.
"Nimbus 2001," was all Marcus kept saying.
Adrian looked at Draco and Karl, smiling. "We'd better go. I'll see if I can't get his mind off that broom." Adrian rolled his eyes. "That's all he has been talking about the entire summer."
Draco and Karl laughed and Adrian and Marcus left.
Karl turned to Draco. "Hopefully I'll see you out at the pitch during Quidditch season this year, right?" Karl asked.
Draco nodded. "Hopefully," he said, not believing it for a second.
"We've got two spots open, so you might have a better chance then you're giving yourself credit for."
"Not likely. Thanks though," Draco said sullenly. "I'll see you at school."
Karl shrugged. "See you then," he said and walked away.
Draco trudged down the hill to Malfoy Manor. I'm never going to get on the team. It's not fair that Potter got on just because of his stupid scar.
~ ~ ~
That evening at dinner, his father informed Draco that he once he received his letter tomorrow, they would be going to Diagon Alley to pick up his school things.
"I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be," Draco mused, poking his fork in his chicken.
"Let's hope that he's decent," his father said. "The Dark Arts is not something to be meddling with and you need a decent teacher to be better informed of them."
"But I already know more about that then all the other kids," Draco said.
His father looked at him sharply. "It would not be wise to be speaking of that, especially after that incident with the Ministry last Christmas. We don't need any more officials poking their noses where they don't belong. I don't want you to speak a word about it, understand?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, father."
"We have to go into Borgin and Burkes tomorrow to sell some of our things and I want you on your best behavior. You're a Malfoy and you know how to act."
"Yes, father, but what if we run into Potter?"
"Let's hope we don't, and it would be wise if you don't speak badly about him, especially since most of our kind regard him as the hero who defeated the Dark Lord. You'd be smart to remember that in the future."
"Yes, father," Draco said, groaning inwardly. Potter gets everything. Everyone loves Potter. He took a bit of his potatoes, swallowed, and then asked hopefully, "Do you think I could get a racing broom tomorrow?"
Draco held his breath and released it when his father said, "We'll see."
Please, please, let me get a Nimbus 2001!
~ ~ ~
The next afternoon, Draco went to Diagon Alley with his father. His mother was staying home, for she had come down with a cold and didn't feel well enough to move around much.
Draco looked around at all the well-known shops of Diagon Alley and spotted the display where the Nimbus 2001 sat. He looked at it wistfully as kids huddled around it, "oohing" and "aahing". "It's the fastest model! So much better than the 2000!" a boy exclaimed.
Draco glanced ahead to where his father was walking. Please, father, please, let me have that broom. "Come on, Draco," his father said curtly and he turned the corner to go down to Knockturn Alley. Draco glanced once more at the broom and then followed his father.
As they swept through the crowd of witches and wizards, going about their business, Draco looked around at the shops that were devoted entirely to the Dark Arts. Now here's some interesting stuff. Maybe father will buy something for me. Then I'd have something to do besides sit in my room, bored half to death. If it weren't for Brandon and Blaise, I don't know what I would do with myself.
"Draco," his father said.
"Yes, father," Draco said, running up to walk next to his father.
"For a late birthday present, I'll buy you your broom." Draco's heart leapt in joy. Yes! I'm getting a 2001! "But," Draco breath caught in his throat, "on one condition. If you don't meet this condition, I'll take away the broom."
"Yes?"
"Get your grades up," his father said, looking at him coldly.
"But Granger, she -"
"I don't want any more of your excuses! Be happy that you're getting the broom."
His father stopped in front of Borgin and Burkes and stepped inside, Draco swiftly following. Draco looked around at all the items on display as his father walked up to the counter, ringing the bell.
Draco walked over to a display where a glass eye sat on a dark red cushion. Just as he was reaching for it, his father said, "Touch nothing, Draco."
Draco's hand flew back and he looked at his father. "I thought you were going to buy me a present." Please!
"I said I would buy you a racing broom," said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.
"What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?" Draco asked sullenly, feeling very depressed at the moment. I had been so happy to get that broom, but a whole lot of good it'll do me if I can't even get onto the team. "Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous . . . famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead . . ." Draco crouched down, examining a shelf full of skulls. "Everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick -"
"You have told me this at least a dozen times already," his father said, giving Draco a quelling look. "And I would remind you that it is not . . . prudent . . . to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear - ah, Mr. Borgin."
Draco looked at the greasy man who now stood behind the counter. "Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," Mr. Borgin said, his voice oily. I don't believe that for a minute! Draco thought. "Delighted - and young Master Malfoy, too - charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced -"
"I'm not buying today, Mr. Boring, but selling," Draco's father said, cutting off Mr. Borgin.
Draco tuned out what his father was saying and looked at the other displays, ranging anywhere from withered skulls to eyeballs to a large display of withered creatures. Draco walked over to a counter, examining a withered hand. Wicked!
"Can I have that?" Draco asked, pointing to the withered hand.
"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" Mr. Borgin said, walking over to Draco. Mr. Borgin looked at him, smiling. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best of friends to thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."
"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," Lucius said coldly.
"No offense, sir, no offense meant -" Mr. Borgin stammered.
"Though if his grades don't pick up," his father said, his voice growing colder, "that may indeed be all he is fit for -"
"It's not my fault!" Draco interjected. "The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger -"
"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam," his father snapped.
Draco looked down, abashed and ashamed. Why does Granger have to be so smart! I try, I really do! And then she comes along and ruins it all! She makes me look stupid in front of my father and I can't bear that!
"It's the same all over," Mr. Borgin said. "Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere -"
"Not with me," his father said shortly.
"No, sir, nor with me, sir," Mr. Borgin said, bowing slightly.
"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list. I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today -"
Where was father going later? Draco wondered. He hadn't mentioned anything to me yet. Oh . . . I wonder . . . he did say something about Macnair and Nott coming over tonight and they were going to get something . . . no, wait, they gave it to him last night. Yes, I remember, Macnair came over and they went into father's study, and then father said something about dealing with the Ministry today. I wonder what Macnair gave my father?
Draco walked over to a large black cabinet, examining a long coil of hangman's rope. He picked up the card next to it and smirked. Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed - Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date.
Nice. Stupid Muggles. Oh well, I wonder if it works on Mudbloods. Draco turned away and looked at the black cabinet. Hm, I wonder what's in here. Draco reached for the handle but froze when his father said, "Done. Come Draco."
Drat, Draco thought. He turned away and walked over to his father, who was saying, "Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods."
Draco's father turned swiftly and walked out of the shop, Draco following close behind.
"Mr. Borgin is coming tomorrow?" Draco asked as they headed back up to Diagon Alley.
"Yes, Draco."
As they neared Flourish and Blotts, Draco saw a huge crowd gathered in front. He looked up at the large banner that had been strung along the front window:
GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography MAGICAL ME Today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.
"You go in and collect your books. I don't want to deal with that idiot," Lucius said coolly. "I need to go purchase a few items and then I'll be back."
Draco nodded and his father walked away. Draco pushed his way through the crowd and up the set of stairs to his left. He walked up to the balcony that was situated right over where Lockhart would be appearing. He crossed his arms, leaning on the rail, looking at the crowd below him.
"Oh, I don't believe we actually get to meet him!" a girl squealed.
"I know! Isn't he just brilliant!" another exclaimed.
Draco rolled his eyes. What do they see in that oaf? He sounds like a phony to me. I doubt he's really done all that stuff he says.
A loud gasp went up in the crowd as Lockhart stepped through the back archway and up to the counter. Draco could see that some of the girls and older women were practically drooling. Disgusting. He watched as a man pushed his way up to the counter.
"Excuse me, little girl. This is for the Daily Prophet." The man began shooting photographs as Lockhart posed.
Lockhart would pose for anything just as long as he gets credit. It's pathetic. Draco scanned the crowd and spotted Potter and Weasley standing in the crowd, looking very bored.
Then Draco heard Lockhart say, "It can't be. Harry Potter?"
"Harry Potter?!" the photographer exclaimed. He turned around and grabbed Potter, dragging him up to where Lockhart was standing.
"Nice big smile, Harry," Lockhart said, grinning. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."
Draco groaned inwardly. Of course. Potter and his stupid scar. He's gets all the attention. I bet he loves that.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly. "What an extraordinary moment this is! When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts today to purchase his books, he had no idea that he would be getting the set of my entire works, free of charge!"
Everyone clapped loudly as Lockhart handed Potter a stack of books, pushing him away to begin signing autographs.
Draco walked down to the stairs and quickly found his books. He spotted Potter, Granger, and the all the Weasley kids walking out of the crowd in the bookshop. Draco hurried down the stairs, blocking their exit.
"I bet you loved that, didn't you Potter?" Draco spat. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page!"
"Leave him alone."
Draco looked down and saw the Weasley girl looking up at him coldly. He smirked, looking back at Potter. "So, Potter, you got yourself a girlfriend!"
"Now, now, Draco, play nicely." Draco froze as he heard his father's cold voice behind him. Lucius rapped the snake head of his staff on Draco's shoulder, moving him out of the way. Draco groaned inwardly. Now I'm in for it! My father saw me harassing Potter and I'm really going to get into trouble!
"Mr. Potter," Lucius said coolly. He held out his hand. "Lucius Malfoy, we meet at last." Potter's hand in his own, Lucius pulled Potter close to him, pushing back the hair on his forehead with the tip of his staff, revealing the scar. "You'll have to forgive me. But your scar is legend . . . as of course is the wizard who gave it to you," Lucius said with a small smile.
"Voldemort killed my parents," Potter said venomously, jerking his arm from Lucius' grasp. "He's nothing more than a murderer."
Lucius smirked coldly. "You must be very brave to speak his name . . . or very foolish," Lucius said, smiling slightly.
"Fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself," Granger said evenly. Draco looked at Granger, who was standing next to him. He sneered. Perfect Granger, you just had to speak up, didn't you?
"And you must be . . ." Lucius looked at Draco, "Ms. Granger." Draco nodded, still glaring at Granger. "Oh yes, Draco's told me all about you. And your parents." Lucius sneered, glancing at Granger's parents, who were standing over in a corner talking to Mr. Weasley. "Muggles . . . aren't they?" he asked, looking back at Granger. Draco smirked.
Lucius looked at the Weasley kids, scanning them. "Let's see . . . red hair, vacant expressions . . ." Lucius pulled the beat up book from the Weasley girl's cauldron. "Tatty, second-hand book . . ." He looked at the Weasleys, sneering. "You must be the Weasleys."
"Come on children, it's too crowded in here. Let's go outside," Mr. Weasley said, coming up behind his children.
"Well, well, well . . . Weasley Senior," Lucius said coldly.
Mr. Weasley looked up at him with a cool expression. "Lucius."
"Busy time at the Ministry and with all those extra raids, I do hope they're paying you overtime. But," Lucius said coldly, holding up the ratty book, "judging by the state of this, I'd say not." Lucius dropped the book into the girl's cauldron and looked at Mr. Weasley coldly, his lips curling into a sneer. "What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard, if they don't even pay you well for it?"
Mr. Weasley glared at him. "We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."
"Clearly," Lucius sneered. He shook his head, glancing at Granger's parents. He looked at Mr. Weasley, his gaze ice-cold and his voice colder still. "Associating with Muggles. And I thought your family could sink no lower."
Mr. Weasley just looked at Lucius, swallowing his rage. Draco smirked. Best part of my day. My father sure knows how to cut right down to the heart of things. And he does it so efficiently. I wonder if I'll ever be able to have the same cold assurance, control, and efficiency that my father has. I hope.
Lucius sneered. "I'll see you at work." He turned and walked out of the shop, his cloak billowing behind him.
Draco walked over to Potter and Weasley, looking at them coldly. "See you at school," he said to Potter, glancing at Weasley. He turned and followed his father.
As Draco walked beside his father, he remained silent. That was wicked!
"Pick out your broom, Draco," his father said curtly as they entered the shop.
Draco grinned. "I already know. The Nimbus 2001."
"Very well," his father said, nodding. He looked at Draco with a penetrating stare. "I'm coming to watch the first match this year and I expect you to be out there playing on the team against Gryffindor."
"Yes, father," Draco said, swallowing. How was he going to manage that?
"Slytherin had better win."
"Yes, father, but -" Draco stopped, waiting for his father to cut him off, but he just stood there, waiting for Draco to continue. "It's just that Potter has that 2000 and even some of the Gryffindors have better brooms than what Slytherin flies on. We have decent brooms but -"
"I understand, Draco," his father said, cutting him off. "You're right." I'm right? My father just said 'I'm right'? Draco thought in shock. "Slytherin has a very good team, but they are in need of a change of brooms."
His father walked up to the counter and spoke to the man, who nodded. Lucius looked at Draco. "I will bring your broomsticks to Hogwarts and give them to Professor Snape. You can get them from him once you arrive at school."
"Broomsticks?" Draco asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Yes, I'm purchasing your team a new set and so you had better win," his father said in a no nonsense tone.
"Yes, father," Draco said, swallowing. Now if only I can make the team!
Year Two
Chapter One
-At Flourish and Blotts -
"Over here!" Brandon yelled and Adrian hurled the Quaffle towards him. They sped towards their goal, Marcus and Sandra in hot pursuit. As a Bludger flew past Draco, Karl shot up and hit it away from him.
"Nice one, Karl!" Draco said.
Karl grinned and sped away. Draco, holding onto his broom with one hand, wiped away the perspiration on his forehead. It was a steamy July afternoon and although it hadn't been bad when they had started in the morning, it was becoming unbearable as the day dragged on.
Then he smiled. Only one more month until he was back at Hogwarts. His smile disappeared. Back with Potter, brilliant, I'm so thrilled. Just what I want to do. Put up with more Potter and Weasley. Oh well, this year we'll get the House Cup and put those Gryffindors back in their place.
Draco scanned his friends as their game went on beneath him. Carolina, now in her sixth year, played Keeper as always, and Tawny was at the other goals. Over the summer, Karl had managed to grow about a foot and was about a half a foot taller than Draco, who had sprouted a few inches. Karl's red hair had darkened and was now a dark brown, slightly tinged with red.
Draco watched as Blaise Zabini, a second-year, hit a Bludger towards Sandra as she sped towards her goal. He and Blaise had become pretty good friends over the past few months after Brandon had introduced them at the beginning of summer. Blaise was short, about the same height as Draco, and had flaming red-hair. He had the pale skin to go along with it.
A golden flash by his face drew him away from his thoughts and he spotted the Snitch. He dove down after it, Terrace at his heels. Draco reached out, shooting forward as Terrace inched closer. Draco swept his hand down, feeling the cool metal in his hand. He landed, wiping the sweat away from his eyes.
"I got the Snitch!" he yelled and his friends halted in their game, landing around him after they had collected the Bludgers.
"Finally! I thought I was going to burn up to ashes if we stayed out much longer!" Tawny exclaimed.
"It was becoming rather steamy, wasn't it?" Marcus asked, smiling.
"That was really long!" Crabbe exclaimed, breathing hard.
"And hot," Goyle said, nodding.
"What can you expect for July?" Adrian asked.
"At least the matches during school are in cooler weather," Karl said.
"Yeah, lucky you," Draco muttered quietly. He still couldn't believe that he hadn't made the team the previous year, but if he didn't make the team this year, he didn't know what he was going to do.
"Well, I'm going to head home. We're having some guests over for dinner tonight so I have to help my mother make sure everything is ready," Carolina said. "Those house-elves do a decent job, but sometimes, there's an odd one in the batch and it ruins everything."
"I know what you mean," Draco said. "One of our house-elves, Dobby, he's been with us for a long time, but I think he's beginning to go senile. I don't think he's that old, but sometimes he makes the stupidest mistakes. Of course, he could be doing that on purpose, but I don't see why he would want to make my father angry."
"No, that would be a bad thing," Blaise agreed, having seen Draco's father's tempers quite often.
"I think a nice cold bath is calling me at the present," Brandon said, "and I'm going to take full advantage."
"Last match of the summer," Sandra said, "I'll see the rest of you back at school."
They nodded and she, Carolina, and Brandon left.
"When are you going to Diagon Alley?" Blaise asked.
Draco shrugged. "I think we're going next week sometime." Draco smiled. "Maybe I'll get the racing broom I want."
"Nimbus 2001, right?" Marcus asked, grinning. "Those brooms are supposed to be tons faster than the Nimbus 2000 and . . . well, it would be brilliant if we could get a hold of some of those for the team this year. Gryffindor wouldn't stand a chance against us."
Adrian and Draco smiled. "Then we'd win the House Championship, again," Adrian said.
"And maybe the House Cup along with it," Karl added.
"Not if Gryffindor pulls what they did last year," Terrace said grumpily.
"Let's not talk about Gryffindor. It'll just foul our moods," Blaise said.
"Well, I'm getting rather hot standing out here talking, not doing much of anything, so I think I'm going to head back. I'll see you at school, or at Diagon Alley, whichever comes first," Tawny said.
"I'll see you then," Draco said as Tawny and Terrace left.
"I'm going to head back for now. I'll see you later," Blaise said and headed off towards home.
"Nimbus 2001," was all Marcus kept saying.
Adrian looked at Draco and Karl, smiling. "We'd better go. I'll see if I can't get his mind off that broom." Adrian rolled his eyes. "That's all he has been talking about the entire summer."
Draco and Karl laughed and Adrian and Marcus left.
Karl turned to Draco. "Hopefully I'll see you out at the pitch during Quidditch season this year, right?" Karl asked.
Draco nodded. "Hopefully," he said, not believing it for a second.
"We've got two spots open, so you might have a better chance then you're giving yourself credit for."
"Not likely. Thanks though," Draco said sullenly. "I'll see you at school."
Karl shrugged. "See you then," he said and walked away.
Draco trudged down the hill to Malfoy Manor. I'm never going to get on the team. It's not fair that Potter got on just because of his stupid scar.
~ ~ ~
That evening at dinner, his father informed Draco that he once he received his letter tomorrow, they would be going to Diagon Alley to pick up his school things.
"I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be," Draco mused, poking his fork in his chicken.
"Let's hope that he's decent," his father said. "The Dark Arts is not something to be meddling with and you need a decent teacher to be better informed of them."
"But I already know more about that then all the other kids," Draco said.
His father looked at him sharply. "It would not be wise to be speaking of that, especially after that incident with the Ministry last Christmas. We don't need any more officials poking their noses where they don't belong. I don't want you to speak a word about it, understand?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, father."
"We have to go into Borgin and Burkes tomorrow to sell some of our things and I want you on your best behavior. You're a Malfoy and you know how to act."
"Yes, father, but what if we run into Potter?"
"Let's hope we don't, and it would be wise if you don't speak badly about him, especially since most of our kind regard him as the hero who defeated the Dark Lord. You'd be smart to remember that in the future."
"Yes, father," Draco said, groaning inwardly. Potter gets everything. Everyone loves Potter. He took a bit of his potatoes, swallowed, and then asked hopefully, "Do you think I could get a racing broom tomorrow?"
Draco held his breath and released it when his father said, "We'll see."
Please, please, let me get a Nimbus 2001!
~ ~ ~
The next afternoon, Draco went to Diagon Alley with his father. His mother was staying home, for she had come down with a cold and didn't feel well enough to move around much.
Draco looked around at all the well-known shops of Diagon Alley and spotted the display where the Nimbus 2001 sat. He looked at it wistfully as kids huddled around it, "oohing" and "aahing". "It's the fastest model! So much better than the 2000!" a boy exclaimed.
Draco glanced ahead to where his father was walking. Please, father, please, let me have that broom. "Come on, Draco," his father said curtly and he turned the corner to go down to Knockturn Alley. Draco glanced once more at the broom and then followed his father.
As they swept through the crowd of witches and wizards, going about their business, Draco looked around at the shops that were devoted entirely to the Dark Arts. Now here's some interesting stuff. Maybe father will buy something for me. Then I'd have something to do besides sit in my room, bored half to death. If it weren't for Brandon and Blaise, I don't know what I would do with myself.
"Draco," his father said.
"Yes, father," Draco said, running up to walk next to his father.
"For a late birthday present, I'll buy you your broom." Draco's heart leapt in joy. Yes! I'm getting a 2001! "But," Draco breath caught in his throat, "on one condition. If you don't meet this condition, I'll take away the broom."
"Yes?"
"Get your grades up," his father said, looking at him coldly.
"But Granger, she -"
"I don't want any more of your excuses! Be happy that you're getting the broom."
His father stopped in front of Borgin and Burkes and stepped inside, Draco swiftly following. Draco looked around at all the items on display as his father walked up to the counter, ringing the bell.
Draco walked over to a display where a glass eye sat on a dark red cushion. Just as he was reaching for it, his father said, "Touch nothing, Draco."
Draco's hand flew back and he looked at his father. "I thought you were going to buy me a present." Please!
"I said I would buy you a racing broom," said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.
"What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?" Draco asked sullenly, feeling very depressed at the moment. I had been so happy to get that broom, but a whole lot of good it'll do me if I can't even get onto the team. "Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous . . . famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead . . ." Draco crouched down, examining a shelf full of skulls. "Everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick -"
"You have told me this at least a dozen times already," his father said, giving Draco a quelling look. "And I would remind you that it is not . . . prudent . . . to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear - ah, Mr. Borgin."
Draco looked at the greasy man who now stood behind the counter. "Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," Mr. Borgin said, his voice oily. I don't believe that for a minute! Draco thought. "Delighted - and young Master Malfoy, too - charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced -"
"I'm not buying today, Mr. Boring, but selling," Draco's father said, cutting off Mr. Borgin.
Draco tuned out what his father was saying and looked at the other displays, ranging anywhere from withered skulls to eyeballs to a large display of withered creatures. Draco walked over to a counter, examining a withered hand. Wicked!
"Can I have that?" Draco asked, pointing to the withered hand.
"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" Mr. Borgin said, walking over to Draco. Mr. Borgin looked at him, smiling. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best of friends to thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."
"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," Lucius said coldly.
"No offense, sir, no offense meant -" Mr. Borgin stammered.
"Though if his grades don't pick up," his father said, his voice growing colder, "that may indeed be all he is fit for -"
"It's not my fault!" Draco interjected. "The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger -"
"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam," his father snapped.
Draco looked down, abashed and ashamed. Why does Granger have to be so smart! I try, I really do! And then she comes along and ruins it all! She makes me look stupid in front of my father and I can't bear that!
"It's the same all over," Mr. Borgin said. "Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere -"
"Not with me," his father said shortly.
"No, sir, nor with me, sir," Mr. Borgin said, bowing slightly.
"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list. I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today -"
Where was father going later? Draco wondered. He hadn't mentioned anything to me yet. Oh . . . I wonder . . . he did say something about Macnair and Nott coming over tonight and they were going to get something . . . no, wait, they gave it to him last night. Yes, I remember, Macnair came over and they went into father's study, and then father said something about dealing with the Ministry today. I wonder what Macnair gave my father?
Draco walked over to a large black cabinet, examining a long coil of hangman's rope. He picked up the card next to it and smirked. Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed - Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date.
Nice. Stupid Muggles. Oh well, I wonder if it works on Mudbloods. Draco turned away and looked at the black cabinet. Hm, I wonder what's in here. Draco reached for the handle but froze when his father said, "Done. Come Draco."
Drat, Draco thought. He turned away and walked over to his father, who was saying, "Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods."
Draco's father turned swiftly and walked out of the shop, Draco following close behind.
"Mr. Borgin is coming tomorrow?" Draco asked as they headed back up to Diagon Alley.
"Yes, Draco."
As they neared Flourish and Blotts, Draco saw a huge crowd gathered in front. He looked up at the large banner that had been strung along the front window:
GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography MAGICAL ME Today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.
"You go in and collect your books. I don't want to deal with that idiot," Lucius said coolly. "I need to go purchase a few items and then I'll be back."
Draco nodded and his father walked away. Draco pushed his way through the crowd and up the set of stairs to his left. He walked up to the balcony that was situated right over where Lockhart would be appearing. He crossed his arms, leaning on the rail, looking at the crowd below him.
"Oh, I don't believe we actually get to meet him!" a girl squealed.
"I know! Isn't he just brilliant!" another exclaimed.
Draco rolled his eyes. What do they see in that oaf? He sounds like a phony to me. I doubt he's really done all that stuff he says.
A loud gasp went up in the crowd as Lockhart stepped through the back archway and up to the counter. Draco could see that some of the girls and older women were practically drooling. Disgusting. He watched as a man pushed his way up to the counter.
"Excuse me, little girl. This is for the Daily Prophet." The man began shooting photographs as Lockhart posed.
Lockhart would pose for anything just as long as he gets credit. It's pathetic. Draco scanned the crowd and spotted Potter and Weasley standing in the crowd, looking very bored.
Then Draco heard Lockhart say, "It can't be. Harry Potter?"
"Harry Potter?!" the photographer exclaimed. He turned around and grabbed Potter, dragging him up to where Lockhart was standing.
"Nice big smile, Harry," Lockhart said, grinning. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."
Draco groaned inwardly. Of course. Potter and his stupid scar. He's gets all the attention. I bet he loves that.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly. "What an extraordinary moment this is! When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts today to purchase his books, he had no idea that he would be getting the set of my entire works, free of charge!"
Everyone clapped loudly as Lockhart handed Potter a stack of books, pushing him away to begin signing autographs.
Draco walked down to the stairs and quickly found his books. He spotted Potter, Granger, and the all the Weasley kids walking out of the crowd in the bookshop. Draco hurried down the stairs, blocking their exit.
"I bet you loved that, didn't you Potter?" Draco spat. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page!"
"Leave him alone."
Draco looked down and saw the Weasley girl looking up at him coldly. He smirked, looking back at Potter. "So, Potter, you got yourself a girlfriend!"
"Now, now, Draco, play nicely." Draco froze as he heard his father's cold voice behind him. Lucius rapped the snake head of his staff on Draco's shoulder, moving him out of the way. Draco groaned inwardly. Now I'm in for it! My father saw me harassing Potter and I'm really going to get into trouble!
"Mr. Potter," Lucius said coolly. He held out his hand. "Lucius Malfoy, we meet at last." Potter's hand in his own, Lucius pulled Potter close to him, pushing back the hair on his forehead with the tip of his staff, revealing the scar. "You'll have to forgive me. But your scar is legend . . . as of course is the wizard who gave it to you," Lucius said with a small smile.
"Voldemort killed my parents," Potter said venomously, jerking his arm from Lucius' grasp. "He's nothing more than a murderer."
Lucius smirked coldly. "You must be very brave to speak his name . . . or very foolish," Lucius said, smiling slightly.
"Fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself," Granger said evenly. Draco looked at Granger, who was standing next to him. He sneered. Perfect Granger, you just had to speak up, didn't you?
"And you must be . . ." Lucius looked at Draco, "Ms. Granger." Draco nodded, still glaring at Granger. "Oh yes, Draco's told me all about you. And your parents." Lucius sneered, glancing at Granger's parents, who were standing over in a corner talking to Mr. Weasley. "Muggles . . . aren't they?" he asked, looking back at Granger. Draco smirked.
Lucius looked at the Weasley kids, scanning them. "Let's see . . . red hair, vacant expressions . . ." Lucius pulled the beat up book from the Weasley girl's cauldron. "Tatty, second-hand book . . ." He looked at the Weasleys, sneering. "You must be the Weasleys."
"Come on children, it's too crowded in here. Let's go outside," Mr. Weasley said, coming up behind his children.
"Well, well, well . . . Weasley Senior," Lucius said coldly.
Mr. Weasley looked up at him with a cool expression. "Lucius."
"Busy time at the Ministry and with all those extra raids, I do hope they're paying you overtime. But," Lucius said coldly, holding up the ratty book, "judging by the state of this, I'd say not." Lucius dropped the book into the girl's cauldron and looked at Mr. Weasley coldly, his lips curling into a sneer. "What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard, if they don't even pay you well for it?"
Mr. Weasley glared at him. "We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."
"Clearly," Lucius sneered. He shook his head, glancing at Granger's parents. He looked at Mr. Weasley, his gaze ice-cold and his voice colder still. "Associating with Muggles. And I thought your family could sink no lower."
Mr. Weasley just looked at Lucius, swallowing his rage. Draco smirked. Best part of my day. My father sure knows how to cut right down to the heart of things. And he does it so efficiently. I wonder if I'll ever be able to have the same cold assurance, control, and efficiency that my father has. I hope.
Lucius sneered. "I'll see you at work." He turned and walked out of the shop, his cloak billowing behind him.
Draco walked over to Potter and Weasley, looking at them coldly. "See you at school," he said to Potter, glancing at Weasley. He turned and followed his father.
As Draco walked beside his father, he remained silent. That was wicked!
"Pick out your broom, Draco," his father said curtly as they entered the shop.
Draco grinned. "I already know. The Nimbus 2001."
"Very well," his father said, nodding. He looked at Draco with a penetrating stare. "I'm coming to watch the first match this year and I expect you to be out there playing on the team against Gryffindor."
"Yes, father," Draco said, swallowing. How was he going to manage that?
"Slytherin had better win."
"Yes, father, but -" Draco stopped, waiting for his father to cut him off, but he just stood there, waiting for Draco to continue. "It's just that Potter has that 2000 and even some of the Gryffindors have better brooms than what Slytherin flies on. We have decent brooms but -"
"I understand, Draco," his father said, cutting him off. "You're right." I'm right? My father just said 'I'm right'? Draco thought in shock. "Slytherin has a very good team, but they are in need of a change of brooms."
His father walked up to the counter and spoke to the man, who nodded. Lucius looked at Draco. "I will bring your broomsticks to Hogwarts and give them to Professor Snape. You can get them from him once you arrive at school."
"Broomsticks?" Draco asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Yes, I'm purchasing your team a new set and so you had better win," his father said in a no nonsense tone.
"Yes, father," Draco said, swallowing. Now if only I can make the team!