Draco Malfoy and the Chamber of Secrets. Book 2.
The following Wednesday Draco received word that Harry would be buying books as well. He smiled at his reflection, making sure that not a hair was out of place for when he would inevitably meet his arch enemy. His mother had opted out of the day of shopping, she had become more recluse as of late, and didn't want to be out in public with Lucius. She lied to Draco, "I'm feeling a bit peckish, I'll just rest for today."
Draco nodded, following his father out of Narcissa's room. Draco had noticed his parents growing apart, they had always had separate rooms, but now they didn't even seem to enjoy each other's company.
Lucius seeing the displeasure on his son's face, bent down and said, "Listen Draco, I need to go to Borgin and Bots, if your good I'll buy you a present. A better broom, that way you'll be sure to get on the team."
Draco lit up, hugging his father. "Alright!"
They found themselves at Knockturn Alley, Lucius spending a good hour haggling with some witch for the price of a few scrolls. Draco begin to fret over things that had happened last year, and about the talk he had received from his father. Eventually they walked into Borgin and Burkes, the dark store's merchandise touching from floor to ceiling. For a moment Draco had forgotten about the anger he was beginning to harbor towards his father today, and reached out to grab one of the most interesting items he's ever seen.
Lucius crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and saying, "Touch nothing, Draco."
Draco sneered, clenching his hand into a fist just before the glass eye, "I thought you were going to buy me a present."
"I said I would buy you a racing broom," said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.
Draco just said what they both knew was to be the truth, "What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?" Draco pouted, feeling more depressed about the previous year, "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 sulked, looking at the skulls on the bottom shelf, "… 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," said Lucius, with a quelling look at his son. "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."
A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face. "Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," said Mr. Borgin in a voice as oily as his hair. "Delighted — and young Master Malfoy, too — charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced —" The man seemed delighted to see his returning customers.
Draco looked up, hearing something scurrying around the shop.
"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling," said Lucius.
"Selling?" The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin's face.
"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids," said Lucius, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I have a few — ah — items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call…"
Draco had heard his father say this before to the woman he had haggled with before, this was going to take forever, he sighed. Draco walked around the store, following the winding path way to a cabinet. A cabinet he would later despise, and never again wish to ever set eyes on. How curious it was that the one person he had always wanted, was inside the cabinet that he would one day dread to use.
Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down the list.
"The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?"
Mr. Malfoy's lip curled.
"I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act — no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it —"
Draco again heard a funny noise, and this time he was right in front of the cabinet. He opened it just an inch to see none other then Harry Potter. He quickly glanced behind him, seeing the two men at the counter blocked by a large statue.
"Harry?" Draco whispered, unsure if the boy was real.
Harry peeked out of the small crack that Draco had opened. "Yeah…" Harry didn't seem quite happy, and Draco knew it was probably for his comments earlier.
"Listen… I just-" Draco bit his lip unsure of what to say.
"Don't bother." Harry said harshly, backing away from the door.
"Wait…" Draco called to the boy, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
"— and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear —"
"I understand, sir, of course," said Mr. Borgin. "Let me see…"
Draco knelt down, "Are you doing well?"
Harry opened the door wider, his face full of confusion. "Listen Draco, just stop. It's not meant to be. Now go away before someone sees me. I need to sneak out of here, and your not helping."
Draco sighed dejectedly. "Har-"
"Draco?" Lucius called out for him.
Draco shut the door, so only a small crack remained. He quickly looked around and saw a mummified hand. "Can I have that?" Draco asked, pointing at the withered hand on its cushion.
"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" said Mr. Borgin, abandoning Lucius's list and scurrying over to Draco. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."
"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," said Lucius coldly, and Mr. Borgin said quickly, "No offense, sir, no offense meant —"
"Though if his grades don't pick up," said Mr. Malfoy, more coldly still, "that may indeed be all he is fit for —"
Draco, again scorched by his father's harsh words yelled out, "It's not my fault! 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," snapped Lucius, not liking the tone his son was taking with him.
"It's the same all over," said Mr. Borgin, in his oily voice. "Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere —"
"Not with me," said Mr. Malfoy, his long nostrils flaring.
"No, sir, nor with me, sir," said Mr. Borgin, with a deep bow.
Draco had dug himself into an even larger hole then before. He turned to look at the cabinet that Harry was in, looking upset and embarrassed.
"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list," said Mr. Malfoy shortly. "I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today —" They started to haggle.
Draco went back to Harry, "Please…listen… I don't mean to-"
Harry again whispered out a harsh, "Don't bother."
Draco felt his whole body fall, not understanding what to do to change anything. "Why are you in there anyways?" Draco asked.
Harry huffed slightly, "I tried to go through a floo… I guess I did it wrong."
"You got here because of floo powder?" Draco asked, amazed by the sheer fact the Cabinet could harness travel magic.
"Yes. I don't know how I'm going to get out." Harry said, his face sullen.
Draco looked across to see his father exchanging money with Mr. Borgin, finishing their transaction. Draco quickly opened the cabinet up enough to take a good look at Harry's face. He saw the boy's glasses were broken, and his heart felt like it had been squeezed. A quick repairing spell would fix them so easily, yet… Draco knew he wasn't allowed to do the magic necessary.
"Done," said Lucius at the counter. "Come, Draco —"
"I need to go, but… take a left out of the door, keep going on the street until you see an old woman selling nails. You'll be able to see Diagon Alley there." Draco whispered, running over to his father.
"Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods." Lucius said, walking out of the shop with Draco in tow.
Draco cursed himself as he got fitted for new robes. Harry must think him an idiot. What did Draco see in Harry to begin with. Why had he kept on about this charade they were playing. Draco was upset, he wanted to go home, and to make matters worse the day just kept getting worse.
Lucius had insisted on Draco going to the bookstore while Gilderoy Lockhart was signing books, saying that he needed to speak with Arthur Weasley. Draco jabbed his way into the store, losing his father for a moment as he stared at Harry Potter shaking hands with none other then Gilderoy himself.
Draco's blood boiled. Harry who had told him in his letters that fame meant nothing to him, that he would not shake hands with anyone he didn't respect, that Draco could one day be close to him, all shattered as he saw the young boy posing for the cameras.
As Harry migrated to the edge of the room next to the Weasley's, Draco made his move. He pushed past students and adults alike, closing in on Harry. "Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" Draco asked, barely able to contain his rage. Ginny Weasley looked coldly at him, her blush still evident on her face.
"Famous Harry Potter," said Draco. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page." Draco looked deep into Harry's eyes, but was surprised to see Harry's face did not reflect anger.
"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny, glaring at Draco.
"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Draco sneered, he pushed the small girl. She fell back hitting the bookshelf with a thunk. This got Harry's attention as the black haired boy grabbed the front of Draco's robe. "What? Why lie to me? Saying you got lost." Ginny seemed confused, but rubbed her neck as she pulled herself up.
Harry had a mix of anger and confusion, "Don't take your anger out on her. I-" Harry turned to see Ron and Hermione rushing up towards them. He quickly let go of Draco's robe, the others evidently not seeing the motion.
"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 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." He nodded at the textbooks.
Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Draco, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket.
Draco made a move to attack Ron, feeling a need to vent his frustrations out on someone. He looked up at Harry's face as the boy held him back. "I will send you a letter, just calm down." The boy whispered into Draco's ear.
"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 Draco's Father, he put his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering at the others.
"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.
"Busy time over at your department, 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.
"Obviously not," Lucius 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 Lucius, 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."
Draco smiled up at his dad, but was suddenly pushed away narrowly avoiding a cauldron to the face. Draco looked over to see Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at his father, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads. Draco was surprised, when Harry put up a hand to block one of the tomes from hitting Draco in the face. They shook off the remaining ones, and scurried away from the brawl.
Draco looked over to the twins who were chiming, "Get him, Dad!" Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"
Draco had never seen his father in an actual physical fight, and his stomach turned. He hated it, seeing his father wrestling with a man who WAS their lesser.
"Gentlemen, please — please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all —
"Break it up, there, gents, break it up —"
Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Lucius 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. Draco looked closely at the book, it didn't seem right, there was something about it.
"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. Draco took one last glance at Harry, who seemed to be working through his own internal turmoil.
He took one glance over at the red headed girl, and saw her looking curiously at the book Lucius had given her, but they were all out of sight as they charged out of the store.