Why is it that a perfectly normal day, (OK, make that relatively normal, no-one I associate with can manage perfection) a relatively normal day in the company of my two best mates just ends up with us knee deep in conspiracy yet again? I'm starting to agree with Hagrid. We really do always seem to know too much. Sometimes, well, call me insane, but I would just kill to be blissfully ignorant of all dark-and-mysterious-forces.
See, it all happened in Diagon Alley. There I was, minding my own business, having a perfectly normal and very enjoyable time, thank you very much. But- oh NO Ron- don't you know that you are destined to be a FREAK forever more. There we were, about to get nice new robes from Madame Malkin's, nice and normal, when BADOOM!
Oh joy. My favourite person in the world. Draco Malfoy. Yes, you guessed it; there he was, with his snotty-looking mother and slime ball hair, wearing this weird superior grimace, which made him look a bit constipated if you ask me... I'm actually quite surprised he wasn't thrown out of Diagon Alley. His resemblance to an inferi is really astounding.
So then, just to add that extra appeal to him, he starts slating Hermione.
"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in." Bloody cheek! He only insults Hermione because she is way out of his league and he knows he could never live up to someone like her in a million years. Yes, I know this. In my head. Unfortunately, my wand arm develops a mind of it's own in these situations. Or ANY situations involving stinking Slytherins.
Harry appeared to experience the same thing, judging by the fact that I was not the only one with a wand pointed at Malfoy's heart. Hermione looked a little uncomfortable. She kept muttering at us to leave it. But really, if she thinks I am going to stand by while some filthy runt like him insults someone like her, she is sadly mistaken.
"Who blacked your eye, Granger?" Malfoy continued to sneer unwisely. "I want to send them flowers."
I was pretty tempted to ditch the wands there and then and rip Malfoy limb from limb Muggle-style. Unfortunately, his equally foul mother, who started slating Harry for something, interrupted his slow and painful death at the hands of yours truly. Honestly, sometimes I am glad I am not Harry. At least the Death eaters don't all hold personal grudges against me.
"Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you, Harry," Narcissa said, in what I suppose was supposed to be a threatening manner. Harry- unsurprisingly- was spectacularly un-intimidated. He was just like, 'Oh go rot in Azkaban with your loser husband.' Which was hilariously funny because Malfoy attempted to punch him at this point; but instead tripped over his robes, which were too long, and he only stumbled in a pathetic way.
Well, yes, I may have laughed in his face.
Just a little bit.
I didn't really hear what she said next, but I'm pretty sure it was about Sirius, since Harry looked just about ready to murder her right there. Hermione had abandoned all pretence of subtlety and was practically hanging off of Harry's arm to prevent him being arrested.
Madame Malkin looked a more than a bit pissed off.
Evidently she thought that the best thing would be to completely ignore what was going on and hope for the best. Draco, on the other hand, just pulled off his robe and dragged his mother out of the shop. I don't think he appreciated me laughing at him tripping over either, since he very unsubtly barged into me on the way out of the door. Prick.
To say I was relieved when we got out of that damn shop would be one hell of an understatement.
I thought it wouldn't be very easy to find Fred and George's place. Diagon Alley is a pretty long street, see, and since the return of You-Know-Who nearly all of the shop windows are pasted top to bottom with Ministry warnings, so they all look the same really. I guess, you know, having lived with those bloody twins half my life, that I would have expected more of them. But believe me no one- and I mean no one- could possibly have been prepared for the sight that was number 96 Diagon Alley.
I suppose, if you had to sum it up in two words, you would have to call it a visual explosion. Literally. I meant, people in the street were just gazing at it with undisguised disbelief. Witches and wizards were actually stopping dead in their tracks and gawping at the feast of the senses that was Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
The left hand window, well, it, like, hurt your eyes to look at. Every possible colour, shade, shape and texture you could imagine was on view there. There were things that shrieked, things that blew up and reformed themselves, things that bounced, flashed, exploded, spun flew. Anything a prankster could want was in those windows. I tell you, it nearly choked me up. Because even though- being younger brother of the masterminds of the project- had had more of my fair share of products tested (not always willingly) on me, I had no idea that they had made this much stuff. It really was incredible.
But if the left hand window was what shocked people, it surely had to be the right hand window that was the reason people were gaping, hypnotised. I thought Mum was actually going to faint. She kind of went all pale and sickly looking- as if some truly horrifying apparition had appeared before her. Because on that right hand window, was, like all the other shops, a huge, bright purple poster. But it wasn't emblazoned with dark Ministry warnings. Oh no. What was written there- in large, neon yellow letters was a million times better.
Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?
You SHOULD Be Worrying About
U-NO-POO-
The Constipation Sensation that's gripping the Nation!
I looked at Harry. His shoulders were shaking. I must say, for once in my life I was actually really, really proud of a member of my family. Mum was just standing there, kind of mouthing the words to herself as if repeating them would lessen her obvious horror. I don't think it worked.
"They'll be murdered in their beds!" she muttered plaintively after a few seconds of shock had worn in. Harry and me were just standing there pretty much choking with laughter, and even Hermione was doing that weird face she pulls when she wants to laugh but doesn't know if it's appropriate. I had to assure my mum that in fact it was pretty unlikely that Fred or George WOULD be murdered in their beds, mainly due to the fact that the shop was so bloody crowded a Death Eater would be pretty hard-pressed to make it up to their apartment, without the whole murdering part.
And when I say it was crowded, bloody hell do I mean it. I thought Zonko's used to get busy on Hogsmede weekends, but it was NOTHING compared to this. Literally if you wanted to buy anything you had to like, wrestle your way to a shelf, it was that packed. Fred and George, luckily, are pretty much celebrities now, so we didn't find it too hard to get around the place. Even if those flashy gits wouldn't give discount to their own flesh and blood. Considering the number of times I have been force-fed ton-tongue toffee or puking pastilles you would think that a few measly items would be more or less gratis. But no.
Anyway, fortunately I did have a bit of money saved up, so I didn't go out completely empty handed. Ginny got a pygmy puff, which is quite nice, but she called it some stupid name like Arnold. The poor thing. As if naming MY own pet bloody PIG-widgeon wasn't bad enough, she had to humiliate her own pet. And I am more than a little suspicious of all those pygmy puffs. George said that they had been breeding them about 6 years; strangely enough around the same time that they apparently 'killed' my puffskein by 'using it as a bludger'.
Good grief.
No.
They wouldn't…
Surely not….
Even them….
SWEET MERLIN'S PUBIC HAIR!
THEY BRED AND MADE HEAPS OF MONEY FROM MY PUFFSKEIN! MINE!
Those bastards. And they STILL didn't give me discount! Typical. That's the last time I EVER feel proud of one of my siblings.
I can't believe that.
Stupid Fred and George.
Anyway, where was I before the fact that my brothers are pricks distracted me momentarily? Oh yes. Diagon Alley. Yeah. The fact that my normal days always turn out to have some Dark arts conspiracy in them. Right.
Ok, so what happened after we left Weasley's Wizard Wheezes? Yes, you guessed it. Harry goes STRAIGHT in there with the whole 'I-know-let's-follow-Draco-Malfoy-because-he-is-a-prick-and-is-almost-definitely-about-to-do-something-evil' route. Of course, if this was any other person's idea, I would be fine with it.
But no.
It is Harry's idea.
Let's just take a trip down memory lane to visit some of the many OTHER times Harry has decided it would be a good idea to follow someone...
First Year
Harry decides to follow Draco Malfoy to the trophy room, resulting in a mad dash from Filch, an encounter with Peeves, colliding painfully into a suit of armour and- hmm, I just can't think what else… errrr, oh yeah- RUNNING INTO A CRAZY THREE HEADED DOG!
Not to mention Harry going to find Hermione, and us locking her in a toilet with an angry troll. However, this DID result in Hermione becoming one of my best friends, so maybe it wasn't so bad.
Second Year
Harry follows a voice in a wall and ends up finding Mrs Norris petrified, resulting in him becoming the unofficial 'Heir of Slytherin'
Third Year
Harry follows the Hogwarts teachers into the Three Broomsticks, mistakenly thinks that Sirius Black killed his parents, then tries to kill Sirius.
Forth Year
We overhear Hagrid's giant confession to Madame Maxine.
Harry following the marauder's map to Snape's office results in the fake Mad-Eye Moody getting said map and using it to his advantage.
Harry follows Krum and find's Barty Crouch senior's dead body,
Fifth Year
Let's not even go there.
There are many, many more examples I could have used.
So you understand why Harry advising me to follow someone is not what you would describe as music to my ears, yes?
However, I did not bring up any of these subjects, for although I am generally an insensitive and blunt person (or so Hermione tells me on a regular basis) I do at least know when to shut my mouth. At least in regards to Harry. And anyway, he is my best mate, so I can hardly start bringing up every stupid thing he ever did, can I? So as much as I wanted to agree with Hermione's anxious objections, I agreed.
So there we were, guerrilla-style, ducking and diving around Diagon Alley. I swear if Harry hadn't had the invisibility cloak we would all have been arrested for being Death Eaters, we looked so suspicious.
It didn't help that Harry and me are now both 6'' tall or over. I get the distinct feeling that the cloak isn't designed for three adult-sized people. It was all very well in first year when we were relative midgets, but now. Well. It's a tight squeeze to say the least. Hermione had to be kind of pressed against me so we could keep up with Harry. And she sort of had her arm around me. You know, so I didn't walk too fast. Which was actually really quite enjoyable - especially when some old warlock walked too close and Hermione had to move closer so she didn't bump into him and I really wanted to OH MY GOD WHAT AM I SAYING? Bad Ron, BAD Ron.
Merlin I hope Fred and George never read this. I would never, ever, live it down.
Ok, so invisibility cloak, enough said about that. Yeah, so where did Malfoy go next? Bloody Knockturn Alley, that's where. To Borgin and Burkes, to be precise. Dad's office has to visit there like, twenty times a week to investigate reports of dangerous artefacts. Strange thing is, they never find anything, even though the place is quite clearly full of the most Dark artefacts you will ever see. Anyway, it was a mark of how much Hermione loathed Malfoy that she said next.
"If only we could hear what they were saying!"
If she had said that at any other time I probably would have died of shock, but this is Malfoy we are talking about. Obviously my bad influence has rubbed off on her. Luckily, at that moment I realised that one of the purchases I had made at my dear brothers' shop was a bunch of extendable ears. I reached into my robe to get them, dropping a load of boxes as I went.
"Extendable Ears, look!" I exclaimed, unravelling three of the long, flesh-coloured bits of string. Hermione beamed at me.
"Fantastic!" she said, uncharacteristically. If someone had told me that the sight of an eavesdropping device would have merited the exclamation 'fantastic' from that girl, I would have laughed at you.
She must REALLY hate Malfoy.
Putting our heads together, we listened intently to the ends of the string. Malfoy's voice echoed out to us loud and clear.
"…You know how to fix it?"
Borgin looked odd; his expression was a mixture of fear and resentment.
"Possibly," he said; in a way that suggested he did but would much rather keep it to himself. "I need to see it though. Why don't you bring it to the shop?"
"I can't," Malfoy was whispering by this point, as if he expected someone to jump out at him. "It's got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it." Borgin looked uncomfortable.
"Well, without seeing it, I must say that it would be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn't guarantee anything."
"No?" Malfoy's tone of voice was sarcastic. I'll bet anything he was doing his sneery face. The one that clearly says 'I am so much better than you'. "Perhaps this will make you more confident." He moved sideways, showing Borgin something we couldn't see. We tried shuffling sideways, but all we saw was Borgin looking as if he was about to wet himself. Malfoy was out of sight, hidden behind a cabinet like the one that used to stand at Hogwarts before Fred and George pushed Montague into it.
"Tell anyone," Malfoy muttered threateningly, "There will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback?" At that name I felt Hermione shudder slightly next to me. "...he's a family friend, he'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you are giving the problem your full attention." By this point Borgin looked nothing short of terrified
"There will be no need for - "
"I'll decide that!" Merlin, could he be any more up himself? "Well, I'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that one safe, I'll need it."
"Perhaps you would like to take it now?" Malfoy looked irked.
"No of course I wouldn't, you stupid little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it." Borgin bowed low.
"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?" Borgin bowed again, and Malfoy stalked out of the shop, smirking. Anything that makes Malfoy that happy cannot be good.
I stared at my friends.
"What was that about?" I asked somewhat stupidly. Harry looked puzzled, thinking.
"Dunno," he said thoughtfully. "He wants something mended … and he wants to reserve something in there … could you see what he was pointing at when he said 'that one'?" What am I, psychic? I can't see through solid objects. Merlin, and I thought my question was stupid. Hermione, on the other hand, did not appear to be listening. Throwing off the cloak, she opened the door to the shop, checking her reflection as she did so. Why do girls always do that? She looked lovely, I could have told her that.
"What are you-?" I began to ask, but she had already marched in, the bell tinkling as she pushed the door. Hastily I pushed the ears back under the door, passing one to Harry. I dunno what the hell she thought she was doing. She looks about as much like the sort of person who would shop in Borgin and Burkes as I look like Dumbledore.
"Hello, horrible morning, isn't it?" She said brightly. Borgin looked more than a little suspicious. It's hardly surprising is it? Borgin's customers are the sorts of people who threaten him with Fenrir Greyback and unforgivable curses if they spill about their Incredibly Dark Artefacts. They do not comment on the weather. Humming happily, Hermione strolled through said Incredibly Dark Artefacts on display. I dunno who she thought she was kidding. I mean, who hums joyfully at the sight of a mutilated human skeleton with the power to give the owner permanent brain damage? Or a mug that stops your heart if you take a drink from it?
Looking ridiculously conspicuous, Hermione walked up to a large, ornate necklace
"Is this for sale?" she asked.
Borgin glared at her.
"If you have one and a half thousand galleons." I swear, his expression couldn't have been stonier if he were a granite statue. He really is a Very Evil Man.
"Oh-er- no I haven't got quite that much!" Hermione said, in her overly happy voice. "How about this lovely – um – skull?"
"Sixteen Galleons."
"So it's for sale then? It isn't being … kept for anyone?" Oh good Merlin. It was actually almost funny how blatantly obvious she was. It was less funny, however, when you realised that Very Evil Man was looking at my best friend with an expression that plainly said 'I am holding back my desire to tear you limb from limb'. Hermione, bless her, finally noticed how ridiculously obvious she was and threw caution to the winds.
"The thing is, that – er – boy who was in here just now, Draco Malfoy, well he's a friend of mine and I want to get him a birthday present, but if he's already reserved anything I obviously don't want to get him the same thing so ... um …"
This speech might have been marginally less obvious if she hadn't said 'boy' and 'Draco Malfoy' in a tone that you would usually use for 'complete cock' or 'venomous snake'. Borgin actually looked like he was going to explode- he yelled at Hermione and practically chased her out of the shop, before putting up the 'closed' sign in the window. I threw the cloak back over Hermione and said- in what I hoped was a resigned but affectionate way -
"Ah well. Worth a try, but you were a bit obvious-" My resigned but affectionate speech was cut off mid flow by Hermione, who clearly thought I was slating her (as if I would do such a thing) as she said:
"Well, next time you can show me how it's done, Master of Mystery!"
How uncalled for.
0o0
Hello there. This is Kelsey here, although Katie wrote the chapter. This is because Katie is in fact at camp at the moment, so she leaves ME to do her dirty work. (Sniffs disapprovingly) Ah well. As always, please review!
Much love,
Teffy's Moon xxx