I'm back. I gave a brief description of why I'm late over in Song of the Rebel, so I won't repeat myself, suffice to say I'm back for the foreseeable future. Thanks for still checking in on this story, I appreciate you guys.
The doorway to the bookstore was blocked by a large crowd of people. The reason for this was proclaimed in bold letters on a banner hung in the upper window:
Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing copies of his autobiography, Magical Me, today 12:30-4:30
"We can actually meet him!" I heard Hermione squeal. "I mean he's written almost the whole booklist!"
The crowd appeared to be mostly witches, mostly in their late thirties and early forties. A harassed young wizard stood at the door saying, "Calmly please, ladies... Don't push there... Mind the books now..." Even as he was being shoved into the door frame.
I felt bad for the poor guy. Taking each of the twins by the hand, I squirmed and wriggled and ducked under elbows to get inside the store. "What a day to shop," I commented. The boys gave me wide-eyed nods. A long line wound through the whole store, blocking shelves, to where Lockhart was signing his book. I rounded up copies of the books we needed besides Lockhart's, there was no way I was braving the mob to get to those. I let George press through the crowd, and he slid the books one by one underneath the feet of the mob.
By the time he wriggled back through to us my arms were aching from the weight of them. George took his stack off the top of mine with a grunt, and I nodded my thanks.
"Where's the rest of our group?" I shouted over the din. I didn't bother trying to get a glimpse over the crowd, curse my twelve-year-old height.
It turned out I need not have asked. Lockhart practically shouted, "It can't be Harry Potter."
The crowd parted straight down the middle, causing me to be shoved up against a shelf, as Lockhart dove down the newly made alley and snatched poor Harry by the arm. Holding his hand in what appeared to be a vice grip, the man said, "Big smiles now, Harry. Together, you and I are worth the front page."
He finally dropped Harry's hand, only to fling his arm around his shoulders. "Ladies and Gentlemen," He began as I groaned. Not a speech.
"What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to announce something I've been sitting on for quite some time!
"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography- which I shall happily present to him now, free of charge-" The crowd burst into applause. "He had no idea," Lockhart continued as Harry wrinkled his nose, "that he would be receiving so much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have the great pleasure of announcing that I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
The cheering and clapping of the crowd were overwhelming. I dropped my books, hardly caring that they landed on my toes, in order to throw my hands over my ears in an attempt to block out some of the noise. The cheers only grew as Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart.
He finally managed to worm his way out of the spotlight, and I nodded in approval as he handed Ginny his stack of books, insisting that he wouldn't take free things from that man. "I'll buy my own-"
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice I had no trouble recognizing. Draco.
"Famous Harry Potter," said Draco. "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. I was surprised.
"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 Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the bottom of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"
It looked as though the two would get into a fight, but they were interrupted by Mr. Weasley struggling over through the crowd.
"Ron. What are you doing? It's too crowded 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 just the same way.
I ducked behind the twins, who gave me curious looks. I wasn't all that fond of my older relative, he just gave off very unsettling vibes, and had made it obvious what he thought of Aunt Andromeda at Christmas. To be blunt, he was rather rude. Even his wife had seemed shocked by the things he said.
"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 Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. That was rude. Why did he touch her things?
"Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, 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 flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny. In fact, I was surprised not to see smoke burst out of his ears.
"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of 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. I yelped, and the twins shielded me from books flying off the shelf, ushering me towards the front door. I was grateful for the help as I'd have been crushed in the stampede of wizards and witches trying to avoid the fight going on inside.
"Will your father be alright?" I asked. Fred waved off my concern.
"I just hope he teaches Malfoy a lesson," he muttered, glancing over to be certain his mother hadn't heard him.
Mr. Weasley was escorted out by Hagrid moments later with a split lip, but no other visible injuries.
Mrs. Weasley was already scolding, "A fine example to set for your children… brawling in public… what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought…"
"He was pleased," said Fred as I snickered. "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 back to the fireside in the Leaky Cauldron, where me, Harry, the Weasley's, and all our shopping would be traveling back to the Burrow using Floo powder. We said goodbye to the Granger's, 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.
Let's just say it was an awkward Floo trip, and it only lasted a few seconds!
