Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-One - In Borgin and Burkes
Harry was hiding in the twin's bedroom when Millie arrived the following day. She found him there, shut in with Blaise, as they gossiped about Professor Slughorn and speculated about how much Dumbledore had to offer the man to coax him out of retirement.
"Whatever it is, it won't be enough," Blaise was saying as the bedroom door swung open, "No amount of money can change the fact that the job's cursed."
"Are you talking about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Millie asked, stepping fully into their room.
"Millie!" Harry cried, springing from his bed and wrapping her in a tight hug. Despite the oppressive sadness that had weighed on him since Sirius passed, he was genuinely happy to see his friend.
Blaise's reaction was more subdued, though he was no less pleased to have their trio reunited. He remained on his bed, propped up on one elbow, as he greeted Millie with a lazy grin.
"How'd you find out?" he asked.
Millie shrugged, "I met Ginny as I was coming upstairs. She said something about Dumbledore coming to visit?"
She directed a look at Harry which clearly expressed her desire to hear the details of this brief adventure, but Harry was hesitant. He was thinking of the advice Dumbledore had given him the morning he met Slughorn. Harry still had not mentioned the prophecy to Blaise or anyone else. He told himself he wanted to wait for Millie's arrival. That it would be easier if he didn't have to repeat himself. But now that he was being confronted by Millie's questioning gaze, he couldn't seem to form the words. Instead, he changed the subject.
"You got your OWL results?"
Millie smirked. She must have anticipated this question, for she withdrew a folded piece of parchment from the back pocket of her trousers and handed it to Harry.
"I got two O's," she announced for Blaise's benefit while Harry examined the rest of her scores.
"One less than me," Blaise was quick to observe. Millie merely rolled her eyes.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration," Harry said aloud, handing the report card back to her. "Well, no surprises there."
He expected Millie to ask about his scores next, and then the three of them could have a comfortable chat about their plans for the next school year. But their OWL results didn't seem to interest Millie nearly as much as Harry's silence over the past few weeks.
"Hermione wants to know why you haven't been writing," she said bluntly.
He felt a stab of guilt. Of course he had received all of Hermione's letters. An entire stack of them sat next to Hedwig's cage. But like every other letter he'd received that summer, it remained unopened and unanswered.
"I don't mind if you ignore me, Harry," Millie continued when he didn't respond, "I've got Blaise to keep me informed. But you should at least let Hermione know you're ok. I'm the one she complains to when you don't answer! And what am I supposed to say? That I haven't heard a word from you, either?"
"I know, I know!" He sounded more irritable than he intended. Seeing the way Millie raised her brows at his sharp tone, he quickly amended his attitude and added, "I mean, I know I ought to. I feel terrible about ignoring her. It's just, whenever I sit down to write, I don't know what to say..."
He trailed off, turning to gaze out the bedroom window rather than confront the worried stares of his friends. If they were this concerned about him because of Sirius, how much worse would it be when they learned the truth about the prophecy?
He could feel the force of Millie's stare for several seconds longer. Finally, she let out a sigh, and he took this as a cue that it was safe to face her again.
"Fine, I'll write to her," said Millie, "Just to let her know I've seen you. But Harry, you really ought to write something. Tell her what you just said to me. I'm sure she'll understand."
With Millie at the Burrow, Harry was not able to remain a recluse any longer. She did not force him to talk if he didn't want to, but she would not tolerate him sitting in the his bedroom alone. Over the next few days, Harry joined the rest of the household for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He was even persuaded to go outside and join Ginny, Ron, and Draco in a two-on-two game of quidditch.
The combined efforts of Millie and Blaise gave Harry a welcome distraction from his darker thoughts. The days seemed to go by much faster, and before long Harry's sixteenth birthday had arrived. It was another topic Harry had studiously avoided. He had no interest in celebrating without Sirius. He made his wishes known to Remus well ahead of time, and they settled on a simple dinner with no fuss.
"Molly is going to insist on a cake," Remus had warned him, "But I'll prevent anyone from singing at you, if I can."
Harry needn't have worried about any songs over dinner. That evening, their usual party was joined by Ron's oldest brother, Bill, who brought grim tidings that attracted everyone's attention.
"There have been another couple of dementor attacks," he announced as Mrs. Weasley sat a slice of cake before him. "And Igor Karkaroff was found murdered. He was in hiding in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it."
"Perhaps we should talk about something else?" suggested Remus with a pointed look at Harry.
But the mention of Karkaroff, who Harry had never truly met, attracted his notice. Two years prior, a Death Eater by the name of Bartemius Crouch had spent the entire Triwizard Tournament keeping his eye on Harry while disguised as Karkaroff, a former Death Eater himself. Harry had never wondered what happened to the man after he was rescued that night. It was a shock to hear his name again, only to learn he was dead.
He might have asked more about the circumstances surrounding Karkaroff's demise, had not Percy, ignoring Remus's warning, announced some news of his own.
"You've heard about Florean Fortescue, Bill?"
"The one who ran the ice cream parlour? What about him?"
"He's been dragged off, by the look of his place."
"And he's not the only one missing," Tonks interjected. Harry assumed she had been invited to dinner by Remus, who knew she was a favorite amongst the younger set. Her hair was a pale lavender today, but there was something else different about her appearance. Harry couldn't place what precisely had changed, but she seemed more attractive somehow. Since he doubted it was done for his benefit, he could only conclude that she was trying to attract Remus's attention. "Ollivander is gone, too."
"Not the wandmaker?" asked Ginny.
Tonks nodded her head sadly, "His shop is empty. No sign of a struggle. No one is sure whether he left voluntarily, or if he was taken."
"But what about wands?" asked Ron, "What'll people do for that?"
"They'll make due with other sellers," Bill answered, "But it's true that Ollivander is the best."
The news of Ollivander's disappearance shook Harry deeply. Not only had Ollivander sold Harry his wand, but he had administered Harry's OWL examination in wandmaking last year. He had even implied that Harry would make a fine apprentice one day. Harry hoped that he had simply gone into hiding like so many others.
"Speaking of Diagon Alley," said Mrs. Zabini, smoothly turning the conversation, "Your book lists arrived today."
Although Bill, Percy, and Tonks continued their discussion in hushed voices at one end of the table, the young people busied themselves with tearing open and inspecting their letters. Harry's contained an unexpected surprise. He had been appointed the Slytherin Quidditch Captain.
"That gives you equal status with the prefects," Millie advised as she took the badge from Harry's disbelieving hands and inspected it.
"I figured Snape would choose you, eventually," Draco commented as the badge was passed around the table, "I suppose that makes you my captain… Assuming you let me back on the team, of course."
"Wait a moment," said Blaise, "Does this mean Harry gets to use the fancy prefect's bathroom? Excellent! Harry, you have to sneak me in!"
"Honestly, Blaise," Mrs. Zabini sighed, "If you're going to plan on breaking more school rules, can you at least not announce it at the dinner table?"
By the time the badge made its way back into Harry's hands, he found himself smiling. He had managed to forget all about quidditch, but now he had something to look forward to. It was getting late, but he wondered if anyone would want to toss a quaffle back and forth after finishing their cake…
Remus appeared more relaxed than he had been in a long while. He was beaming quietly across the table from Harry. Harry could already guess what he was thinking. James had been a quidditch captain, as well.
When Remus did speak, it was merely to observe, "I suppose with your lists in hand, we can't put off a trip to Diagon Alley any longer."
"I could help you there, Remus," Tonks immediately volunteered, "We could save you a trip, Molly. Pick up some things for Ron, Ginny, and Draco, as well."
"But we want to come, too!" Ron protested, "I want to see Fred and George's shop!"
"I'm not sure there's any sense in all of us going. It would be safer to stay at home," said Mrs. Weasley as she nervously glanced at her clock, its hands still fixed on "mortal peril."
"It'll be alright, mum," Bill said, "There's safety in numbers, and I'll bet we could all fit in dad's old car."
The mention of Arthur Weasley's vehicle did not seem to comfort Mrs. Weasley in the way that Bill had hoped, but when Mrs. Zabini kindly volunteered her own assistance, she soon relented. She would not remain at home alone, however. She confidently asserted that she could keep an eye on her own children, and that included Fred and George. Harry suspected that secretly, she was just as keen to get a peek at the joke shop as Ron and the rest.
And so that very weekend, Harry, Blaise, and Millie, along with the Weasleys and Draco, stood ranged on the front lawn of the Burrow, watching as Bill steered Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia out of a rickety wooden shed. Harry had heard stories about this car, including a rumor that Mr. Weasley had modified it to be able to fly, but Harry had his doubts as he observed the heavy antique frame. He wasn't sure how Bill proposed to fit all ten of them into the cramped space, let alone get it into the air.
The answer, of course, was magic. The dimensions of the Ford Anglia were far roomier on the inside than one would expect from its rusted exterior. Harry slid onto a seat behind Ron and Draco, who had continued their conversation about quidditch teams as if the several rows of wide seats were the most natural thing in the world.
"We'll have more security once we reach the Leaky Cauldron," he heard Bill tell his mother from the front seat of the car.
Harry had been looking forward to experiencing the flying car in action, but there were limits to what Mrs. Weasley would tolerate. A flying car would attract far too much attention, she said. And though Bill tried to argue that a simple cloaking spell would keep them reasonably hidden from Muggle eyes, Mrs. Weasley shook her head. Harry saw Remus relax against his own seat with a grateful sigh. Harry wondered if he was remembering past trips on Sirius's flying motorbike, and was secretly jealous.
Still more magic was needed to transport them to London expeditiously, and though Bill was forced to keep to solid ground, the scenery outside seemed to slip by with unnatural speed. It felt as though they were traveling at an easy, moderate pace, and yet each time Harry glanced out the window, he was confronted with wildly different scenery. Harry tried to fix his gaze on the changing landscape, but the sudden shifts gave him a stomachache, and he finally settled back into his seat and closed his eyes for the duration of the trip.
Bill had spoken of extra security. Harry wondered if Tonks would be waiting for them at the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps she would bring Kingsley with her, if he had the time. But as the car pulled in front of the pub, only Hagrid awaited them.
Harry hadn't seen Hagrid since Sirius's funeral, but he was just as warm and welcoming as always. The moment Harry stepped onto the curb, Hagrid wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug.
"Surprise!" he shouted jovially, "Didn' expect me, did'ya? Wish I coulda made it fer yer birthday, Harry. Did'ya get yer present?"
"Yeah, thanks Hagrid," Harry said, massaging his ribs as Hagrid released him. Privately, he vowed to open the clumsily wrapped package waiting with the rest of his unopened letters the moment he returned to the Burrow.
They passed through the Leaky Cauldron, which was completely devoid of its usual patrons. Only one mad stood behind the bar, directing a hopeful look at their group.
"Jus; passin' through today, Tom," Hagrid said, "Sure yeh understand. Hogwarts business, yeh know."
Tom's eyes had just fallen on Harry. He gave start, averted his gaze, and began polishing glasses with a silent nod. No doubt he had heard the rumors that Harry was the Chosen One, though his reaction gave Harry pause. There were still plenty of people who thought he was cursed, or even worse, a wizard even more dark and powerful than Voldemort himself. As he wondered what the Leaky Cauldron's proprietor thought about him, Hagrid directed them into a small courtyard at the back of the pub, rapped a few of the bricks, and soon they were standing on a winding cobbled street.
Diagon Alley had changed. Instead of brightly colored advertisements and whimsical window displays, large posters had been pasted over every storefront. Some were enlarged versions of the security recommendations that had been issued by the Ministry of Magic. Others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters still at large. Harry avoided the sneering gaze of Bellatrix Lestrange mocking him from the doorway of a nearby apothecary. His eyes fell instead on the boarded-up windows of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. It was not the only storefront that sat dark and empty as they passed along the street. Meanwhile, several seedy looking stalls had cropped up along the road. They bore crude wooden signs, boasting of amulets, talismans, and protective charms with questionable validity.
"Good thing Percy couldn't come along," Bill muttered as he hurried his sister past one man who was trying to entice her with the promise of a charm to ward off everything but the Killing Curse. "He'd've wanted to stop and question every vendor down the alley."
"It would serve them right," Mrs. Weasley muttered, directing a nasty look and the vendors as they passed, "Let's see, now... Ron and Draco need new school robes. And Harry too, I expect. He's grown so much this summer… Then we'll have to stop at Flourish and Blotts..."
"It doesn't make sense for all of us to visit Madam Malkin's, mum," Bill advised. "Why don't we send the boys with Hagrid to order their robes, and the rest of us can grab the books?"
"I don't know," Mrs. Zabini interjected, looking to Remus for his opinion, "Do you think it's wise for us to be separated?"
"With Hagrid here, we've got nearly as many adults as teenagers," Remus reminded her, "I think it will be fine if he takes the boys to Madam Malkin's. The rest of us will head to the bookshop. We'll meet up there."
Blaise had more robes than he could reasonably expect to wear over the course of another school year. He remained with Millie, Ginny, and Remus while Harry struck off with Ron and Draco. Only Bill headed off on his own, assuring his mother that he could make a withdrawal from Gringotts a lot faster than most wizards these days.
Harry kept close to Hagrid, noting that of the very few people they passed along the street, every one had the same harried, anxious look as Mrs. Weasley. Nobody stopped to talk to friends. Everyone kept their eyes averted. They were so distracted, no one even seemed to recognize Harry.
"Migh' be a bit of a squeeze in there with all of us," said Hagrid as he stopped outside of the seamstress's shop and peered through the window. "You three alrigh' if I stand guard outside?"
The shop appeared to be empty from outside, so Harry, Ron, and Draco filtered in without their chaperone. No sooner had the door closed behind them, however, than they noticed two large forms looming near the back. Crabbe and Goyle stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing at their reflections in the tall mirrors standing against the far wall. Madam Malkin was busy about the stools on which they stood, marking their robes where they needed to be let out. They were, somehow, even bigger than last year.
Crabbe noticed them first, spying their reflections over his shoulder. He nudged Goyle, who turned his head toward them with a sneer.
"This is a new low for you, Malfoy," he said, "Always knew you were a blood-traitor, but to be seen with Potter and a Weasley?"
"I won't have any talk of blood-traitors or the like in my shop!" Madam Malkin said sternly, rising from her crouched position as she swept a strand of hair from her eyes. "And I don't want wands drawn either!"
Harry and Ron had immediately pulled their wands from their pockets and were standing protectively in front of Draco, ready to defend him if necessary. Draco seemed surprised by their quick reaction rather than offended by Goyle's insult. He placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, muttering softly, "Honestly, it's not a big deal…"
"Like the two of you would dare practice magic outside of school," Crabbe interrupted with a scoff.
Goyle nodded his head in agreement before adding, "Seen your mum lately, Draco? We hear she's been looking for you…"
Now it was Draco's turn to draw his wand. Pushing past Ron and Harry, he pointed it at Goyle and shouted, "Don't you dare talk about my mother!"
His shouts must have attracted the attention of Hagrid, for the door to Madam Malkin's swung open again, and he lumbered his way inside. His size dwarfed the various clothing racks and bolts of fabric in the small shop. As he stooped to avoid the low ceiling, he towered over Crabbe and Goyle.
"Wands away, boys," Hagrid admonished Harry, Ron, and Draco, though his eyes were turned toward Crabbe and Goyle with a ferocity Harry wasn't used to seeing on his usually kind face, "I don't think there's any cause for fighting now, is there?"
Harry knew that Crabbe and Goyle had no respect for Hagrid as a teacher, much less as a half-giant. But his size and fierce appearance alone was enough to intimidate them into better manners. Turning stiffly back to Madam Malkin, Goyle shrugged off his own set of unhemmed robes and let them fall to the floor.
"We won't be needing these after all," he said, "Now that we know what kind of people you serve, we'll take our money elsewhere."
And with that, they sidled past Hagrid, making sure to avoid Harry and the others, and were out the door, slamming it behind them. Harry, Ron, and Draco finished their robe fitting in stony silence, though they made free to loudly abuse Crabbe and Goyle once they had reached the street again.
After reuniting with Remus and the others at Flourish and Blotts, they continued down the list of school supplies, stopping first by Eeylops Owl Emporium for some treats for Hedwig, then making the rounds at the apothecary.
Harry hesitated over whether to purchase new potions ingredients. He had heard often enough from Snape himself that he would only except those with an "Outstanding" score into his NEWT level classes, and he had only achieved an "Exceeds Expectations." Snape may have granted him the role of Quidditch Captain, but would he tolerate Harry's presence in another year of class?
He wasn't the only one dithering about his purchases. Draco, the only one of their group to have achieved top marks in potions, consulted the prices of each ingredient carefully.
"Do you think I could substitute jellied eel for eye of newt?" he asked, "It's six Sickles cheaper by the jar, and they have similar properties…"
"Don't worry about it mate," Ron muttered, "I'm sure mum won't mind a few Sickles."
For the first time, Harry realized what living with the Weasley's truly meant for Draco. He was not only estranged from his parents, but he had been cut off from the Malfoy fortune, and was therefore more destitute than Ron. He waited until the others had moved on to consult a display of various powered ingredients before he drew close to Draco and whispered, "I can buy the ingredients. In exchange, you have to tutor me in potions this year."
Draco seized on the offer, and after quietly making their purchases at the counter, they had soon obtained everything on their shopping lists.
"Can we please go see the joke shop now?" Ron pleaded with his mother.
"Yes, alright," Mrs. Weasley finally assented, "But we really can't stay long. We'll just pop in, and then we should get back to the car…"
Rounding a bend in the street, she stopped dead in her tracks. It wasn't hard to see why. Compared to the dull, silent shops that now haunted Diagon Alley, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes hit the eye like a kaleidoscope of color. Ron burst into laughter as he saw the bright display, but Mrs. Weasley let out a gasp of horror, her eyes directed to an advertisement for a product called "U-No-Poo," an obvious pun on "You-Know-Who."
"They'll be murdered!" Mrs. Weasley moaned.
"They won't," Ron insisted, "This is brilliant!"
While on the streets outside shoppers hurried from place to place, never lingering for long, the interior of the joke shop felt warm and welcoming. Witches and wizards of all ages clustered around the various displays, inspecting the Weasley's stock of Skiving Snackboxes, trick wands, and spell-checking quills. Remus paused to read a notice regarding their patented Daydream Charms.
"One simple incantation, and you will have a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable… This is actually very clever magic…" he mused aloud.
"Coming from the architect of the Marauder's Map, that's quite a compliment."
Fred Weasley stood behind them, beaming from ear to ear. He was wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming red hair.
Remus glanced at Harry, who sheepishly admitted, "I might have mentioned that the 'Mr. Moony' from the map is… well, you."
Remus shook his head, then accepted the hand that Fred had extended in greeting.
"Based on what I've heard, you and George used the map to cause quite a bit of mischief, yourselves," he said.
Fred's smile broadened, "Now, now. You're not our teacher anymore, Remus. You can't give us detention for that."
"Why would I? Mischief is what the map was designed for," said Remus, returning his grin.
"In that case, you'll want to see the Instant Darkness Powder we've been importing from Peru. Could be handy if you wanted to make quick escape, but we've been having a hard time figuring out how to implement it."
Fred took them on a tour of the shop, leading them past a corner dedicated to "Muggle Magic Tricks."
"For Dad," he stated briefly, "We thought it'd be a nice way to remember him, but you'd be surprised how well they do! They're great novelties… Ah, here's George!"
He had pulled back a curtain beside the display to reveal a slightly darker storeroom. The second Weasley twin sat at a table, sorting through boxes of product with more subdued packaging. George rose when the trio came in, offering his hand to Harry and Remus in turn.
"Giving them the tour?" he asked his brother, "Well, you have perfect timing. Remus, I want you to have a look at this…"
"Me?" Remus asked with caution.
"That's right. We've just developed this more serious line, you see," said George, sweeping his arm to indicate the various packages. "At first we thought it would be a laugh. You know, Shield Hats, so you challenge your mate to jinx you…"
"... And watch his face when the jinx bounces off!" Fred concluded.
"Clever," replied Remus, "So what do you need me for?"
"Well, see, you wouldn't believe how many people can't do a decent Shield Charm," Fred explained.
"I mean, they wouldn't do much to help against the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor hexes or jinxes, they're not bad…" added George.
"And now we can't keep them on the shelves! The Ministry bought five hundred for al their support staff, and we're still getting massive orders!"
"So we thought we'd get into the whole area of Defense Against the Dark Arts, seeing as it's so lucrative..."
Remus looked thoughtful. He eyed the hats in their boxes, then observed, "These are alright, but they'll start to be recognizable if hundreds of people are wearing them. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but hats are easy to remove. Have you considered expanding? Shield cloaks or gloves, for instance?"
Fred and George glanced at each other. It was clear from their expressions that they were glad they had consulted Remus. They next pressed him to take a look at their Decoy Detonators - small horns that would scuttle away and create a loud noise elsewhere, perfect if you wanted to cause a distraction.
"How much?" Harry asked, picking up one of the Detonators.
"Take as many as you want," Fred advised.
George nodded his head in agreement, "Your money's no good here."
Harry was about to protest, but Fred pulled him aside, saying in an undertone, "Don't think we've forgotten it was your Triwizard winnings that helped us pay for this place. You've done enough for us. Let us repay the favor."
Despite these reassurances, Harry couldn't bring himself to feel that he deserved their thanks. Taking only one Detonator and an upgraded Extendable Ear, Harry soon returned to the main floor of the shop. Millie, Blaise, and Ginny had gathered near the Muggle Magic trick display, and were busy trying to figure out what a common deck of cards could be used for.
"You haven't looked at our special WonderWitch product line yet?" George admonished the girls, pointing toward the front of the shop.
On a table near the front window, a group of giggling girls gathered around an array of violently pink products. Millie took one look at the display and stated, "Pink's not really my color."
"It's not about the color!" Fred argued, "It's the products themselves! Best love potions on the market!"
"Do they work?" asked Ginny curiously.
"Of course they do! For up to twenty-four hours, anyway. It depends on the weight of the boy or girl in question…"
Millie continued to look skeptical. "And what, pray tell, would I do with a love potion?"
Blaise looked equally disinterested, saying airily, "I don't need a potion to get attention."
George tried to interest them in some odd-looking scarves hanging on the far wall instead, while Ginny moved on to inspect some pink and purple colored fluff balls that were emitting high-pitched squeaks. Harry was about to go in search of Ron, when he noticed Draco lingering by the window.
For a moment, Harry assumed Draco was considering the love potions. himself. But he wasn't looking at the display. His face was turned toward something outside. Curious, Harry sidled up to him. Draco merely glanced in his direction, then nodded at a hulking form that was making its way down the street alone.
"Goyle?" Harry asked, certain he couldn't be mistaken about the broad shoulders and short dark hair.
"Strange to see him without Crabbe," Draco said by way of confirming Harry's suspicions, "They've been inseparable for as long as I've known them. Sometimes I even forgot which was which…"
"Reckon he gave him the slip?" Harry asked.
"Suppose so. But why?" Draco replied, just as Goyle moved beyond the scope of their window.
Harry glanced behind them at the shop. Mrs. Weasley had joined Ginny next to the pastel-colored puff balls. Remus had resumed his conversation with Fred about the Instant Darkness Powder. Mrs. Zabini was trying to convince Blaise that he didn't need one of the spangled scarves that George had shown him. On the other side of the glass, Hagrid waited on the street outside, keeping watch.
"Get under here," Harry muttered to Draco, withdrawing the invisibility cloak he carried with him at all times.
Draco's eyes widened, but he didn't hesitate. He ducked under the cloak, followed closely by Harry. None of the customers seemed to notice. They were all too busy looking at the Weasleys' products. Harry directed Draco out the door as quickly as he could, but by the time they had slipped past Hagrid and gained the street, Goyle was lost from view.
Draco poked Harry's side, nodding significantly in the direction Goyle had been going. Harry understood, and they moved as quickly and as quietly as they could, huddled close under the cloak.
"There he is," said Draco in a low voice.
Sure enough, Goyle had paused under a sign pointing to Knockturn Alley. He glanced left and right, as if checking that he wasn't being followed, then darted down the street out of sight.
Harry and Draco didn't need to exchange another word. They both picked up the pace, following Goyle down a dark, deserted street. It was no mystery why this road was empty, even compared to Diagon Alley. Each shop seemed devoted to the Dark Arts. Being seen on this block would have been akin to admitting you were a Death Eater in the current climate.
That had not stopped Goyle, however, as he made his way into a particularly gloomy shop sporting the name of Borgin and Burkes. If they had dared to follow Goyle any closer, they might have slipped through the entry behind him. But the door slammed shut, leaving Harry and Draco standing out in the street.
"We won't be able to hear anything from here," Draco muttered, "But if we follow him now, he'll see the door open..."
"Hang on…" whispered Harry. From the pocket of his robes, he withdrew the Extendable Ear. He unrolled the thin, flesh-colored string, and fed it under the door.
Harry and Draco huddled against the side of the building, putting their heads close as they listened to their end of the string. Goyle's voice floated to them, loud and clear as if he were speaking over a radio.
"... you know how to fix it, then?"
"Possibly," came a second voice. Harry assumed it was one of the shopkeepers, though whether this was Borgin or Burkes, he was at a loss to guess. "I'll need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it in?"
"I can't," replied Goyle, sounding irritated, "It's got to stay where it is."
"Well, without seeing it, it will be a difficult job. Maybe impossible. I can't promise you anything."
There was a pause in which Harry and Draco could hear the heavy tread of Goyle's feet, as if he were taking a menacing step toward the shopkeeper. Harry peered through the window. Goyle had his back to him, but it looked as though he was showing in his hand to an oily-haired, stooping man behind the countertop. Harry could not make out what Goyle was holding, but from the look on the other man's face, it must have been terribly frightening.
"Maybe you feel a little more confident now?" Goyle said in a sneering voice.
"I-I'll do the best I can. But it will take time…"
"How long?" asked Goyle.
"I… I really couldn't say… Weeks, perhaps months… An order such as this…"
"Fine," said Goyle, stepping back, "So long as you make it happen. In the meantime, don't sell the other one."
He gestured to something in the shop, but a large, black cabinet was blocking Harry's view. He couldn't see what Goyle was referring to. A moment later, and the old brass bell over the door rang as Goyle stepped back onto the street, looking very pleased with himself. Harry and Draco pressed their backs against the storefront as he passed close enough to flutter the cloak around their knees. It was only when he slipped out of sight again that Harry dared to release the breath he was holding.
"What was that all about?" he asked Draco, still keeping his voice to a whisper.
"I'm not sure… But wait here…"
"Huh? Draco, wait!"
But Draco had already stepped out from under the cloak. Before Harry could stop him, Draco passed through the door, smoothing back his hair as he approached the bent shopkeeper. Harry quickly raised the Extendable Ear, listening as Draco said, "Afternoon, Borgin."
"Master Malfoy, it has been a while," greeted the elderly man with a respectful bow.
Harry was impressed by how easily Draco could sound like his old self as he loftily said, "Spare me the pleasantries, Borgin. I'm in a bit of hurry today."
"Of course, Master Malfoy. What is it you're looking for?"
"A gift for my mother," Draco said without hesitation. Harry watched as he scanned the items on the shelves, no doubt seeking the one that had attracted Goyle's notice. He pointed to a necklace glittering sinisterly in a glass-fronted case. "How much for that?"
"One and a half thousand Galleons," said Mr. Borgin.
Draco didn't bat an eye at the ridiculously high price. Instead, he made a snide comment about such a cheap knockoff not being worth the cost. He then pointed to a gilded human skull resting upon a black velvet pillow and asked, "This one?"
"I could offer you a deal on that. Twenty Galleons."
"So it's for sale?" Draco clarified, "You're not holding it for someone?"
Borgin was directed a rather suspicious look at him. "It's your mother you're shopping for?"
"That's what I said," Draco replied, masking his nervousness with impatience.
"Ah… Forgive my impertinence, Master Malfoy. It's just that seeing you again, I recalled some rather… interesting rumors about you. Rumors that state you are lately, shall we say, estranged from your parents? As a matter of fact, your mother seemed particularly concerned to know if anyone had seen you recently…"
"You know how mother's are," Draco said quickly, inching back toward the door, "They exaggerate… Strange times we're in… Sure she's just worried. I'd better go find her now, as a matter of fact... Terrible rush…"
Draco beat a hasty retreat. Outside the shop, he turned in a circle before realizing he wouldn't be able to see Harry under the cloak. Harry threw the pulled him back under cover, hissing as he did, "Are you crazy?"
Draco sighed, "I'm just sorry it didn't work. Who knows what Goyle was up to?"
"Well, I guess it was a good try…"
They crept back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, where their absence was questioned by Remus, Mrs. Zabini, and Mrs. Weasley at once. They insisted they were in the back room the whole time, and that the adults couldn't have looked properly.