Disclaimer / I don't own anything

Chapter 4

After that, I went downstairs and knocked quietly on Ginny's door. About a second later she opened it and nervously let me in. Mrs Weasley must have been busy while we were de-gnoming the garden, as there was a mattress on the floor next to Ginny's bed. Her walls were pink and there were several posters hung up around her room, but it was very different from Ron's room. Ginny watched nervously as I looked around, taking everything in. I noticed a window in front of her desk and saw that it looked out onto an orchard.

Then I turned back to her and grinned.

"This is awesome."

She smiled although I could see she was still nervous.

"I'm Isobel," I say, even though she obviously knows who I am.

"Ginny," she offered.

I sat down on the mattress and she did likewise on her bed.

"So when are you going to Hogwarts?" I ask, attempting to make conversation.

"This year," Ginny replied. "My Hogwarts letter's gonna get here in six days!" she announced.

I smiled at her obvious enthusiasm; glad she was finally warming up to me.

"Yeah? What house do you reckon you'll be in?"

"Gryffindor," she said immediately. "Just like Mum and Dad and Bill and Charlie and Fred and George."

"But not Percy and Ron?" I laughed.

She turned her nose up and I laughed harder.

"What house are you in?" she asked me.

"Uh, I'm not really in one. It's a bit odd I suppose, but I'm in Gravlepin."

She looked at me in confusion.

"What's that?"

"A mix of the houses. The Sorting Hat couldn't decide where to put me, so it put me in all of them."

"What's the Sorting Hat?" she asked.

I suddenly remembered that first years didn't know how they would be sorted. I contemplated telling her but thought it was best not to.

"You'll see."

She shrugged.

"But I thought you were in Gryffindor? Ron said you always hung out with him and Harry."

She blushed slightly upon mentioning Harry's name and I tried to hide a small smile.

"He was right, I do. And Hermione, she's our other best friend. But technically I'm allowed to hang out wherever I want. I just chose to stay with them most of the time because they're my friends."

"But what about your friends in the other houses?"

"I don't really have any," I say.

"You should. If you were put in all the houses you should make friends with them because they'll also be like you."

I thought about Malfoy and his lot and shuddered a little.

"I suppose. But not all of them will be like me. Some of them aren't very nice."

We spent the rest of the day talking and sharing stories. It was nice to talk to another girl. Hermione was awesome and I loved her, but sometimes she was a bit too much. Ginny was really relaxed and funny, and despite being a year younger than me, I found myself instantly liking her.

Life at the Burrow was as different as possible from life on Privet Drive. The Dursleys liked everything neat and ordered; the Weasleys' house burst with the strange and unexpected. Harry got a shock the first time he looked in the mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece and it shouted, "Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!" The ghoul in the attic howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt things were getting too quiet, and small explosions from Fred and George's bedroom were considered perfectly normal. What we found most unusual about life at Ron's, however, wasn't the talking mirror or the clanking ghoul: It was the fact that everybody there seemed to like us.

Mrs Weasley fussed over the state of our socks and tried to force us to eat fourth helpings at every meal. Mr Weasley liked Harry and me to sit next to him at the dinner table so that he could bombard us with questions about life with Muggles, asking us to explain how things like plugs and the postal service worked.

"Fascinating." he would say as Harry talked him through using a telephone. "Ingenious, really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic."

We heard from Hogwarts one sunny morning about a week after we had arrived at the Burrow. I wished Ginny a Happy Birthday as we went downstairs. a little later, Harry and Ron came down. The moment she saw Harry, Ginny accidentally knocked her porridge bowl to the floor with a loud clatter. Ginny seemed very prone to knocking things over whenever Harry entered a room. She dived under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged with her face glowing like the setting sun. I shook my head a little, grinning as Harry pretended not to notice. He sat down and took the toast Mrs Weasley offered him.

"Letters from school," said Mr Weasley, passing all of us kids identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. "Dumbledore already knows you're here, Harry and Isobel – doesn't miss a trick, that man. You two've got them, too," he added, as Fred and George ambled in, still in their pyjamas.

For a few minutes, there was silence as we all read our letters. We were told to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross station on September first. There was also a list of the new books we'd need for the coming year.

SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

43 Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart

Fred, who had finished his own list, peered over at mine.

"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" he said. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan – bet it's a witch."

At this point, Fred caught Mrs Weasley's eye and quickly busied himself with the marmalade.

"That lot won't come cheap," said George, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive…"

"Well, we'll manage," said Mrs. Weasley, but she looked worried. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."

"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked Ginny.

She nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and put her elbow in the butter dish. Fortunately, no one saw this except Harry and me because just then Percy walked in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest.

"Morning, all," said Percy briskly. "Lovely day."

He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a moulting, grey feather duster – at least, that was what I thought it was, until I saw that it was breathing.

"Errol!" said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. "Finally – he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you two from the Dursleys."

He carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again, so Ron lay him on the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic." Then he ripped open Hermione's letter and read it out loud:

"Dear Ron, and Harry and Isobel if you're there,

"I hope everything went all right and that Harry and Isobel are okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get them out, Ron, because that would get Harry and Isobel into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if they're all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your one-off.

"I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course'- How can she be?" said Ron in horror. "We're on vacation! – and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley?

"Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione.'"

"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too," said Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear the table. "What're you all up to today?"

Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were planning to go up the hill to a small paddock the Weasleys owned. I was tempted to follow them, but Ginny wasn't allowed so I decided to stick around with her.

"I normally steal their brooms, you know," she told me as we headed upstairs. "I'll go out and fly around on them when no one's paying attention. They're all so protective of me, but I know I want to play Quidditch next year."

I grin.

"Well, once you're on the team, you can show them all up. What position do you like to play?"

"Chaser," she answered immediately. "I do also like Seeker, but I figure if I'm in Gryffindor, there's no way I could play that position anyway."

I don't say anything, knowing Harry would most likely be better than her, but not wanting to dampen her spirits.

"I'm a Chaser," I say instead. "We could play together sometime."

"Really?"

I nod, smiling.

Mrs Weasley woke us all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, we pulled on our 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 she offered him the flowerpot.

Harry stared at them all watching him. His nervous gaze flicked over mine.

"W-what am I supposed to do?" he stammered.

"He's never travelled 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?"

"We 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 used it before–"

"He'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 Harry nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too.

I was listening as well, feeling a little put off.

"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly–"

"He'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss," said Mr Weasley, helping himself to Floo powder too.

"But, dear, if he got lost, how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?"

"They wouldn't mind," Harry reassured her. "Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney, don't worry about that–"

"Well… all right… you go after Arthur," 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."

Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.

"D-Dia-gon Alley," he coughed.

The flames took Harry out of sight. I watched anxiously but knew we wouldn't know if he was alright until we followed. I stepped up next and recalled everything the Weasley's had told Harry.

"Diagon Alley," I say, ignoring the powder.

It felt as though I was being sucked down a giant drain. I was spinning very fast – the roaring in my ears was deafening. I tucked my elbows in and tried to stay still. I closed my eyes to keep the soot out. My hair was flying around my face and I felt myself fly by several cold spots. Eventually, one of them felt right, and I opened my eyes slightly to see something red in my vision. Immediately, the spinning stopped, and I fell out of the fireplace. Luckily, Fred and George caught me and steadied me. I brushed soot off myself and glanced around.

"Where's Harry?" I ask.

"We thought he was coming before you?" George answered.

"He did," I say.

Then I get a sinking feeling.

"Oh no. He must have gone to the wrong grate. Oh, Harry."

The twins exchanged a glance then smiled a little.

"Don't worry Isobel, I'm sure he hasn't gone too far. We'll wait for the others to come through then we'll go find him," Fred said.

I nodded, swallowing the bad feeling. One by one, the Weasley's came through, each of them asking where Harry was. Mrs Weasley was the last to come through, and when she heard Harry was missing she immediately ushered us out of the shop we had appeared in and out into Diagon Alley.

We ran down the streets, looking for Harry. I wished I was back at Hogwarts where the castle could lead me straight to him, but unfortunately, there was nothing like that now.

We spent ages racing around Diagon Alley until I eventually spotted a looming figure a ways away.

"Hagrid," I cried, recognising the half-giant.

I pulled ahead of the others, sure that Hagrid, with his added height would make it easier to find Harry. Or Harry to find us.

I waved my arms, ignoring the looks from passer-by's, trying to get Hagrid's attention. Finally, he spotted me and grinned. I saw him look down and his mouth move.

I frowned, looking around him. Then I spotted two figures standing on the steps of Gringotts's bank.

"Harry," I ran up to him, wrapping him in a hug. "Where were you?"

I pulled away, noticing his glasses were snapped and he had dirt and soot all over him. Just then, the Weasley males caught up to us, and I greeted Hermione quickly, who I recognised was the second figure with Hagrid.

"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," answered 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.

I spared Harry a dark look as 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 off the soot on him and his clothes. Mr Weasley took Harry's glasses, gave them a tap of his wand, and returned 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!" he grinned at us, gave me a wink, then strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry said to Ron, Hermione and me as we climbed the Gringotts steps. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" said Mr Weasley sharply behind us.

"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 we 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 and Harry and I 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. The journey was a little unsettling, but I felt terrible when we arrived and the Weasley vault was opened. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon. Mrs Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag. I could tell Harry felt as bad as I did when we reached our vault. We tried to block the contents from view as we hastily shoved handfuls of coins into two leather bags. I didn't miss several wistful glances though as we moved aside for the vault to be shut.

Back outside on the marble steps, we 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 second-hand 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, Hermione and I strolled off along the winding, cobbled street. Our bags of gold, silver, and bronze jangling cheerfully in our pockets was clamouring to be spent, so we bought four large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams, which we slurped happily as we wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows.

Ron gazed longingly at a full set of Chudley Cannon robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies until Hermione dragged us off to buy ink and parchment next door.

In Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, we met Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, who were stocking up on Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks, and in a tiny junk shop full of broken wands, lopsided brass scales, and old cloaks covered in potion stains we found Percy, deeply immersed in a small and deeply boring book called Prefects Who Gained Power.

"A study of Hogwarts prefects and their later careers," Ron read aloud off the back cover. "That sounds fascinating…"

"Go away," Percy snapped.

"Course, he's very ambitious, Percy, he's got it all planned out… He wants to be Minister of Magic…" Ron told us in an undertone as we left Percy to it.

An hour later, we headed for Flourish and Blotts. We were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As we approached it, we saw a large crowd 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 autobiography

MAGICAL ME

today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs Weasley's age. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please, ladies… Don't push, there… mind the books, now…"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione and I squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. We each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 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…"

Gilderoy 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 and then me. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Harry and Isobel Potter?"

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry and I's arms, and pulled us to the front. The crowd burst into applause. I scowled as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys.

"Nice big smile, Potter's," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, the three of us are worth the front page."

When he finally let go of our arms, I could hardly feel my limb. We tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw an arm around both of our shoulders and clamped us tightly to his side. I resisted the urge to elbow him in the gut to escape.

"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 Isobel here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, they only wanted to buy my autobiography – which I shall be happy to present them now, free of charge -" The crowd applauded again. "They had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving us a little shake that made my hair fall over my eyes, "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 Harry and I found ourselves being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, we managed to make our way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron.

"You have these," Harry mumbled to her, tipping the books into the cauldron. "I'll buy my own–"

I made a mental note to give my own to Ron.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potters?" a voice I had no trouble recognizing suddenly said. I felt Harry straighten himself up and we found ourselves face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer.

"Famous Harry and Isobel Potter," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Leave them alone, they didn't want all that!" said Ginny.

It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. I was proud of her as she glared at Malfoy.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" drawled Malfoy, smirking at Harry.

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 sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry and Isobel 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 those."

Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket. I put my own books in it then took the cauldron from Ginny, who was struggling from the weight of it.

"Ron!" said Mr Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "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.

"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 that I was holding and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.

"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.

"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 I almost dropped Ginny's cauldron; Mr Weasley had thrown himself at Mr Malfoy, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all our heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backwards, 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 us 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 Transfiguration 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."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop us from leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. We 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 back to the fireside in the Leaky Cauldron, where we would be travelling back to the Burrow using Floo powder. We said good-bye 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.

Harry took off his glasses and put them safely in his pocket before helping himself to Floo powder. I prayed he would make it back safely this time. Lord knows where he would end up if he didn't reach the Burrow.