Chapter 8 – Smile, Lad!
True to her word Petunia had both Harry and Dudley up bright and early for their trip to Diagon Alley. It wasn't all that much earlier than Harry would have woken up himself anyway – nine in the morning as opposed to half-past – but for Dudley it was near enough four whole hours earlier than he'd have preferred. That had caused a bit of a ruckus as Dudley wasn't at all prepared for the early hour, but Harry sat it out in his bedroom with Agrippa for some company.
Harry threw on a set of robes rather than his usual summer muggle clothes as he needed to bring his wand and didn't have charmed pockets in any of his jeans to store it in, and then waited downstairs while his aunt cajoled Dudley into being ready on time to leave – even if that meant he skipped breakfast. In the time it took her to do that, Harry managed to have two slices of toast, flick through the television channels fruitlessly, and take a look at the Daily Prophet for a good ten minutes before he grew too tired of the reactionary vitriol to continue. There wasn't anything especially interesting, anyway. Just more barely disguised anti-goblin propaganda pieces.
"Didn't fancy dressing in normal clothes, did you?" Dudley said when he saw Harry's robes.
Harry shrugged.
"Where we're going, these are normal."
Dudley grimaced and looked down at his own, ordinary, muggle clothes.
"Wizards are so weird…" he muttered.
"Now, where did I put my keys?" wondered Petunia aloud as she followed after Dudley. "Harry, have you seen them? I could have sworn…"
Harry shook his head. Petunia rarely actually drove. She had a car, and keys, but Harry couldn't remember when he'd last seen them.
"Oh, I remember!" said Petunia.
She grabbed her car keys from the coffee table in the living room and ushered the two boys out of the door and into the car – quicker than usual, and probably so that the neighbours didn't see Harry dressed in his robes.
Harry thought that was fair. Harry did already have owls and Sirius's exotic bird going to and fro at all hours of the day, so there was no sense throwing fuel on that fire. Petunia herself wore a dress that looked, if one squinted, a bit like the fashionable witches' robes some witches wore, so she at least wouldn't stick out in the Alley. That just left Dudley, and mugglewear was common enough in Diagon Alley that he should go largely unnoticed.
Assuming he didn't make a scene for unrelated reasons.
Once everyone was settled into the car Petunia set off for London. She had the radio on, but it was quiet enough Harry couldn't really hear the songs playing. Dudley seemed disinclined to talk, so Harry left him alone and stared out the window.
After a good few minutes of bored silence, Petunia spoke.
"Now, I was thinking about the itinerary," Petunia said, "and we'll have to stop by the bank first of all, won't we, Harry? Because you need to get money, and I'd like to exchange some of our money for wizard money because I thought—if we can find somewhere suitable—we could have lunch in the Alley. You'll have to handle the money of course, Harry, if that's alright, because if I remember right the wizard money is closer to old money than new, but different enough that I..."
Harry half-tuned her out as soon as he realised she was just speaking to fill the air while Dudley sulked and Harry stared out the window. He did make the appropriate responses at the appropriate times, but that was easy enough and didn't take much thinking at all. It was nice enough that his aunt still made an effort when it came to visiting wizarding locales, even after the trips they'd taken with Sirius in Italy and Austria, so he didn't want to dampen her enthusiasm. Especially as he'd never thought, once he'd been introduced to the wizarding world, his aunt would so much as speak the word 'magic' without cringing.
Petunia carried on like that until they reached London proper, and Harry had to lead the three of them to the Leaky Cauldron, as neither his aunt nor his cousin could actually see the pub until they were prompted. Harry hadn't gone there the muggle way ever before, technically, as Flitwick had only shown him the way from the Cauldron. Retracing those steps but backwards and a few years later was harder than Harry had thought. Especially with Dudley complaining. But they made good time, and Harry managed to get the three of them there without getting lost.
Before entering Harry reached up to cover his scar with his hair only to realise it was still far too short after his pre-holiday haircut at his aunt's insistence.
Not that it would have mattered – Potterwatchers seemed to have a special sense for him, and would no doubt recognise him even if he'd dyed his hair pink – but Harry did always feel better with the scar covered.
He paused at the door and directed his aunt and cousin to stop.
"We're here," Harry said. "See, this is the Leaky Cauldron." Once prompted, both Dudley and Petunia were able to see the Cauldron. Dudley made as if to enter, but Harry stopped him.
"Er, people might recognise me and stop us," he said to his aunt and impatient cousin. "So we should just stop, say hello, then move on. It's worse here than abroad. Just so you... er... know." Although his aunt had dipped her toes into the wizarding world of late, Harry didn't think she would be quite as prepared as she needed to be for how the general public behaved around Harry. All the times she'd been in the wizarding world were ones where the focus was justifiably on Harry.
"Well, are we going in or not?" asked Dudley.
"Right," Harry said, and opened the door.
Inside the Cauldron it was the same dingy interior with the odd cobweb and far more dust than Petunia would be comfortable with, but it was packed to the rafters with wizards and witches, many more than Harry was comfortable with.
Fortunately, everyone seemed far more concerned with their own affairs than whether or not the young wizard who'd walked in was Harry Potter, so Harry simply pushed his way through the crowd and out the back of the Cauldron to the little yard which concealed the entrance to Diagon Alley.
"I'll open the door now, hang on," Harry said. He grabbed his wand from his robe pocket and tapped the brick, then waited for the wall to reconfigure itself into an archway. Neither Dudley nor Petunia showed any real response to it, having grown quite used to magical phenomena of that sort over the summer, and stepped through the threshold to the Alley after Harry.
Diagon Alley in all its hodgepodge and rickety glory wound itself away from the Leaky Cauldron as it always had, but like the famous pub, hosted more wizards than Harry had ever seen there before. Robed figures hurried from shop to shop, and many of the shops which did a lot of Hogwarts trade even had long queues trailing from their doorways and out onto the already crowded street. The late letters had no doubt contributed, but it seemed busier even than that.
"It's not usually this busy," Harry said as he attempted to lead his aunt and cousin through the street and towards the towering edifice of Gringotts Bank at the other end. "I bet it's because the letters came out late and everyone's in a rush..."
Harry pushed and squeezed and shuffled his way through and around the crowds of people on the way to the bank while the unseasonably hot August sun beat down, until eventually they made it into the charmed-cool goblin-run bank.
Where it was just as busy as the street outside, filled to bursting with wizards, witches, and even muggles needing to exchange currency, and where the goblin tellers seemed to delight in drawing out every transaction.
Harry wasn't at all sure how integrated Gringotts was with the wider goblin community, but Harry didn't doubt that at least some of the goblins were revelling in their ability to cause problems for their wizarding customers. Especially given the situation with the Ministry.
"I think it might be better if we split up," Harry suggested. "The Muggle Currency Exchange is that queue over there," he said, pointing, "but I've got to join one of those queues over here." He gestured vaguely to the windows set up for wizards visiting vaults. It would be a more efficient use of everyone's time, but Harry was also keenly aware that Petunia would hate the carts down to the vaults. She might literally have a heart attack. Better for everyone if she avoided that entirely.
"Dudley, want to come with me? The way down to the vaults is like... er, it's like a rollercoaster; thought it could be fun."
The promise of something actually fun – and probably because he got to escape Petunia's gaze for the time it took – seemed to light something akin to a fire of enthusiasm in Dudley then, who agreed readily.
"Come on then—let's go before the queue gets any bigger," Dudley said, and joined the shortest of the queues of wizards all lined up to get to their vaults. Petunia went off to join the queue for the muggle currency exchange and Harry followed Dudley.
"How long do the queues usually take?" Dudley asked, peering along the queue of wizards dressed in robes for a look at the goblin teller.
"I've never actually seen a queue, to be honest," Harry said. As the only bank in Britain and Ireland, Gringotts was always well attended, but the crowds that day were something else entirely.
"And stop staring—goblins don't like it when you stare." Good advice in general, but if Dudley hadn't learned and applied that more generally by his age, Harry didn't think he ever would.
Dudley took another long look at the teller – a bald goblin with a nose ring in a smart business suit – before finally wrenching his gaze away.
"Dad keeps on saying about all that fuss about goblins," Dudley said after a few moments. "What's he mean?"
Harry paused before answering. Going into the details was definitely not what Dudley really wanted, even if he had asked, but Harry wouldn't have felt comfortable talking about that in Gringotts anyway. It was a bit on the nose.
"Er, it's complicated," Harry said. "Basically, goblins want wands, and wizards don't want to let them. And some other stuff. One of their… leaders, I suppose, just gave the Wizengamot a list of demands. It's not gone anywhere. But we shouldn't really talk about it in here."
Dudley nodded, seemingly considering Harry's words. He didn't have any more questions for a little while after that, so Harry considered the exchange a success.
"So why do you have to go all the way to your vault?" Dudley asked while they waited. "In normal banks they just give you the money."
Harry shrugged.
"I think it's because muggle banks don't keep, er, literal piles of money in a specific account for you. It's all on computers, isn't it? But my money here is coins protected by goblin magic and some wizard spells. They don't do anything with it like muggle banks do—my mate Justin said wizard banking isn't very advanced, not like muggles have. So they have me go and get it. Dunno, maybe it's just to make people think their money is safe, or something like that." Harry hadn't really thought about it.
Dudley grunted in response.
"And there's a rollercoaster to get there?"
"Er, basically, yeah—it's this little cart and it goes underground through all the tunnels until you get to your vault. Mine's quite far down. Not all the way though—apparently for the really deep vaults there's dragons and all sorts guarding them. But I've never met anyone who's been down there."
"How'd they get dragons underground?"
"Er—I dunno. Probably hatch them down there," Harry said. Dudley never seemed to be just the right amount of talkative – it was either nothing at all, or question after question. At least the queue was moving quickly.
When it was his turn Harry fished in his robe pocket for his vault key and showed it to the teller.
"Harry Potter, here to visit my vault."
"Snagbak will attend to you," said the teller, stamping a piece of parchment. "Next!"
"Snagbak? What sort of a name is—"
"A goblin name," hissed Harry. "Shut up." Quite aside from it being rude, Gringotts held all of Harry's money, and Harry didn't want the goblins to think poorly of him. Or more poorly than they already thought of wizards, anyway, since he did enjoy having free and easy access to his money.
Snagbak the vault attendant joined them at the door to the vault access room and directed them to sit in the ramshackle mine cart that awaited them.
"Hold on tight," Harry warned Dudley as they shuffled into place. "It goes upside down and everything. So… just hold on."
Dudley grunted. At first Harry wasn't sure he'd listened, but his cousin's arms did move and he seemed a bit more secure in the seat.
"Gringotts Bank is not responsible nor liable to pay compensation for any injury to the self which may arise from using our services," said Snagbak in a bored tone. "All users visit their vaults at their own risk and are advised not to place any part of their body outside of the cart at any time."
Without waiting for either Harry or Dudley to confirm they still wanted to travel, Snagbak set the cart rolling along its track. Harry had travelled on the carts before – twice – but even so, it was still quite exciting. Not quite as exhilarating as flying a Firebolt at top speed, but definitely very fun.
Dudley treated it like a muggle rollercoaster.
Fair enough, Harry thought. Let him have some fun.
Dudley stumbled when they got out of the cart at Harry's vault, but that didn't seem to ruin his new-found joie de vivre – he looked ready to go again.
"Give me a second," Harry said. "Just have to grab some money for my school things." He didn't want to spend too long with Dudley at his vault since he didn't want to flaunt the literally mounds and mounds of gold. Although Dudley was set to receive a decent inheritance from Vernon's life insurance policy and the house some time in the – hopefully distant – future, it still wasn't quite as much as Harry had in goblin gold hidden underneath London.
Harry made sure to grab a bit more than usual given that he had to purchase the entire range of Lockhart books, and some alchemy equipment besides, and then indicated to Snagbak that he was done.
"I didn't realise how much money you've got," Dudley said as they walked away. "Mum and Dad did say something, but seeing it..."
"It looks more all piled up like that," Harry said evasively. He hadn't thought Dudley was paying all that much attention, but he evidently had been. Harry just hoped it didn't become a thing. It wasn't as if Dudley didn't have a tidy sum coming his way in time, and Harry had grown up without his parents. Money was of little consolation.
"I suppose," Dudley said. He shrugged. "Where are we going next?"
"Need to check where's busy and where's not," Harry said. "I've got loads to get... then Aunt Petunia wanted lunch, didn't she? So we'll have to find somewhere she likes for that..."
The café he'd visited with Flitwick would probably do, but it was always hard to tell with Petunia. There weren't all that many options in the Alley, anyway, and the café was the only one Harry knew of.
"What sort of stuff do you need to buy, anyway? Dragon's tongues and shrinking powder?"
"Er—no," Harry said. "Nothing like that. Well, I need some more billywig stings, and... mostly it's just stuff like books, to be honest. I've got to pick up some alchemy equipment this year, though. Glass bottles and stuff." Harry shrugged. "I wanted to get my trunk expanded as well, but I think I can just buy a compartment to stick in it for that."
"Hands inside the cart or risk losing them," advised Snagbak. The mine cart whizzed back up to the surface and Harry got out, although Dudley lingered a few moments, seemingly keen to do it another time.
"Come on—I bet Aunt Petunia's finished by now," Harry said. "Her queue wasn't as big as ours."
The two boys met Petunia outside of the bank, and Harry led the way to the first of their stops – Madam Malkin's so Harry could get his robes adjusted. He didn't think he needed anything new, as all of Madam Malkin's robes were very durable, but he'd grown a bit, so perhaps he did.
Wizards and witches milled about in the shop, some of them browsing through the stacks of robes and other garments, but most of them waiting to be seen by fitting witches. The shop assistants were swamped and there were queues for fittings and measurings. Harry waited there along with Dudley, although something caught Petunia's eye and she left them to it.
"Those look like nice dresses," she said absently. "And certainly no one in my book group would have one... I'm just going to go and..."
Harry left her to it while he waited with Dudley, who kept pointing out which witches he thought were attractive, and which ones he didn't. It was an insight into Dudley Harry wished he hadn't had.
After an age it was Harry's turn to get measured up, but the whole process was – mercifully – quite fast after that. Harry would need new everything, as he'd grown quite a bit more than he'd thought, but he hoped the new set would last him a good while. When it came time to pay Petunia joined Harry in the queue.
"Those robes really do look like nice dresses, you see," Petunia explained while they were queuing, "so I had that nice woman measure me up for a set, and they were so cheap I'm going to buy two!" She paused. "You know, one of these days Harry we should bring your uncle along and have him measured up for a nice new suit—the prices are nice but more than that the tailoring is just wonderful. There's even a spell so that if you put on a little extra weight, the material expands—but it's not stretchy at all!"
"I didn't know that specifically," Harry said, "but all of the clothes here do come with a load of useful spells on them, so, er, I'm not surprised really." Still, he didn't think Vernon was quite ready to get a suit from a wizarding seamstress no matter how cheap it was or how perfectly it fitted.
Or which convenience charms it had on it.
Vernon had been quite happy with magic, so long as it existed at some distant point. Magical suits seemed a step too far.
Once outside again Harry took a look around to see where it would be better to go next. The bookshop, for whatever reason, had an absurdly long queue snaking from the entrance, so he discounted that immediately. He could have done with some more broom polish, but there was a large queue there, too, and Spintwitches in Hogsmeade would surely be a much more pleasant outing.
Harry spent a minute or so deliberating while the crowds passed him by. Petunia seemed happy enough to take in the ambience, but Harry could see Dudley was getting bored with the lack of action, the sights and sounds of Diagon Alley clearly not enough to keep him occupied. In the end Harry set off for the apothecary, as although his aunt wouldn't appreciate the sights or the smells, it had the shortest queues and Harry did need to restock his more basic potions ingredients.
And the glassware shop was opposite, so he could nip in and get his alchemy stuff right after.
Once inside Dudley peeled off immediately to look at the more disgusting ingredients – eyeballs, still-quivering tongues, and all the rest – although Petunia kept glancing around, seemingly in search of something to look at that wasn't at all unpleasant.
Fat chance of that, Harry thought, as the apothecary specialised in revolting bits and pieces of various creatures. He went around the shop filling various bags and jars with the things he needed and then approached the counter to pay whilst Petunia attempted to stop Dudley from touching anything.
"They just sell dragon blood?" Harry heard Dudley ask from across the shop. "Like, from actual real live dragons?"
"Hush, darling," said Petunia. "Harry's trying to pay for his ... things ... but yes, I suppose it would be from real dragons, wouldn't it?"
"Just these," Harry said to the man behind the counter. "Oh, actually—I need the basic alchemical kit, too. Do you stock that? You know, the solvents and that stuff?"
"We do, Mr Potter, we do. I'll just get that prepared for you—just a moment!" said the man. He disappeared into the back of the shop and returned with a small box. "Be careful with these—we don't recommend playing about with them in the home, Mr Potter, as they can be quite volatile. Best to wait until you get to school before having a look, but I can assure you it's all there." He sorted through all the various bits Harry had in his pouches and jars, packed them all up into a neat package, and handed it over to Harry.
"Thanks," Harry said. He paid the man and took his things away, then finally managed to get Dudley to stop poking the dragon eyes before making their way into the glassware shop to pick up his new alchemy equipment. After that it was a quick trip to the luggage and bag shop for an insertable expanded compartment for his trunk. The man inside had tried to sell Harry a totally new trunk, but he'd declined.
He liked his old one, and even though the wizard had offered a multi-compartment trunk complete with a secret room, Harry couldn't think of a use for it. And it cost more than Harry wanted to spend on a trunk, anyway. Petunia had seemed keen on purchasing an enchanted wardrobe, but had demurred, citing a need for Vernon to weigh in on the matter first.
"We can always come back around Christmastime if we really want it," Petunia had muttered as they left the shop.
Harry scanned his Hogwarts list to check what else needed to be done. He'd bought new gloves for Herbology in Madam Malkin's, so that was done, ticked off his list. Everything he needed for both Potions and Alchemy had been purchased in the apothecary's or the glassware shop. He had enough wand polish, so there was no need to visit Ollivander. That only really left Flourish and Blotts for his towering stack of books, so with a deep sigh, Harry led his aunt and cousin towards Flourish and Blotts.
Once there, Harry was dismayed to find that the queue to get inside had grown even larger.
After they'd been waiting in the queue for half an hour at least Dudley started to show signs of his boredom.
"Why are so many people waiting to get into a book shop anyway?" he wondered aloud.
Harry shrugged.
"Wizards don't have televisions, so it's really just the Wireless, games, and books," Harry said. "And with school about to start and the letters coming out late everyone's going to be here to get their schoolbooks for the year. But it's not usually this busy, so..."
"Can't we just go do something better and come back later?" whined Dudley. "It's not like the books are going anywhere is it."
"We can't go now, darling," Petunia said. "We've been waiting half an hour already. And look, the queue is moving again, so I'm sure we won't be here much longer! And then we can go find somewhere nice to have lunch!"
The queue moved along at a glacial pace, but eventually Harry, Petunia, and Dudley found themselves close to the entrance. Unfortunately, that meant Harry could see the reason for the long queues, and it wasn't just because it was the school rush.
Gilderoy Lockhart was at the shop doing an all-day book signing to promote his latest book, Meanderings with a Manticore. Harry half wanted to acquiesce to Dudley and go somewhere else, but as Lockhart would be at Flourish and Blotts until closing time, that would be pointless. And that way he might even miss the opening hours and he'd have to come back another day, which would be inconvenient to say the least.
So Harry stayed in the queue as it moved slowly into the bookshop, although by the time he crossed the threshold, he wished he'd come back on a different day.
"Well, if it isn't Harry Potter!" Lockhart declared – loudly – when he noticed Harry stood amongst the customers waiting to get inside the shop. He'd made sure to be in the queue for the shop rather than the book signing, but that didn't seem to matter to Lockhart, who got up from the table where he was signing the books and meeting his fans to greet Harry at the door.
"And who is this enchanting vision of womanhood?" Lockhart said to Petunia. He flashed her his perfect – and if the signs weren't lying, award winning – smile and kissed her hand.
"Now, never let it be said that I, Gilderoy Lockhart—Britain's most attractive and successful Dark forces defender, Order of Merlin, and of course, multiple time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award—would allow Harry Potter or his family to languish at the doorway while I sat in comfort amongst my fans. Now, I'm sure every one of you here has heard of young Harry's story? Perhaps it isn't quite so widely publicised these days, but young Harry here was instrumental in the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named oh so long ago! Isn't that right, Harry, my lad?" Lockhart beamed at the crowd and leaned over towards Harry.
"Smile, lad!" he said through his supernaturally white teeth. "You're on camera!"
Harry forced himself to smile even though he wanted to turn tail and run. Honestly, he'd wanted to come in and get his schoolbooks, not pose for an impromptu photoshoot! Instead, his face would be plastered all over the front page of the Evening Prophet – and probably the next day's edition of the daily, too – along with Petunia, Dudley, and bloody fucking Gilderoy Lockhart.
Blaise would never let him live it down.
"Let's just shuffle around here," said Lockhart, moving Petunia closer to him and wrapping one of his arms around Harry. "Smile for the cameras!" he muttered again and squeezed Harry's shoulder. "That's the ticket! Once more and we've got the lot, I'd think," he said after the next round of photos. When his photographer had finally finished he turned back to the murmuring crowd and flashed them his smile once again.
"Now, what Harry Potter and his family didn't know upon entering this fine establishment today was that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, would see fit to gift him my entire collection of hand-signed books—including my best-selling autobiography, Magical Me!" said Lockhart. He paused for the crowd to ooh and aah and clap, then continued while Harry cringed inwardly.
He didn't need or want to be gifted a signed set of Lockhart's books, and certainly not in so public a manner.
"Of course, young Harry here will be attending Hogwarts this September and, if I remember correctly, will be sitting his OWLs—I happen to know that this set of books will be invaluable to him, not least because it's on the course list for the year! Which brings me to my formal announcement, as it were," said Lockhart with a little flourish. "I have agreed—after much persuasion from Albus Dumbledore himself—to serve as the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor! After all, how could I pass up the opportunity to share my skills and knowledge with an entire generation of young wizards and witches?"
Lockhart did a deep bow as the crowd clapped and cheered.
I've got a full year of this, Harry realised while Lockhart bowed and smiled at the crowd. Lockhart may well have been Britain and Ireland's preeminent expert in all things Dark, but Harry would have preferred Dumbledore hire Marge Dursley if it meant he didn't have to put up with Gilderoy bloody Lockhart and his camera-seeking antics.
Or perhaps that was an exaggeration but stood in front of a crowd of Flourish and Blotts customers and the gathered press, Harry wasn't sure.
At least Lockhart seemed done, and Harry could slip away...
"Now, we'll take a short recess while I spare some time to speak with young Harry and his family here, and then the book-signing will resume!" declared Lockhart. More clicks of the cameras at that announcement, and the collective sigh of the crowd as they realised Lockhart was serious about the break.
Harry sighed.
No chance of that, then.
Lockhart drew Harry, Petunia, and Dudley away from the crowd and the cameras to speak with them privately.
"Well, that could have gone better but I daresay we'll have had a couple of good photos out of that!" said Lockhart, beaming. "And you, madam, were simply radiant! Where has young Harry been keeping you?"
Petunia flushed red.
"Oi, leave off," said Dudley, although Lockhart ignored him. "She's married."
"And you, Harry—next time do try to be a little less aloof, mm? The camera hates it when you play coy—take it from someone who knows! But even with your little display I do think you've managed to boost your profile quite nicely, thanks in part to me of course! Remember me when you get properly famous, eh, lad?" Lockhart beamed. "We can collaborate! Just think, the two of us could sell so many things!"
"I wasn't worried about my profile," Harry said. "I just wanted to buy my schoolbooks. And now we'll be in the papers..."
"You're welcome, my dear boy, very welcome indeed!" Lockhart said, missing Harry's point entirely. "You've had a little time in the sun, I won't deny that, but you do need to take a more active role in managing your fame and profile, you know," he continued. "That business with the flying and all that duelling—that's a great start. Some more of that and you'll have the public eating out of your hand! That trial business, well, they do say there's no such thing as bad publicity. And you won the arbitration! Got people talking all about you again! But it's been weeks since you were in the papers, and fame is a fickle business Harry, let me tell you."
"Er, yeah, I suppose it is," Harry said, keen to get away but also not wanting to offend his new Defence teacher. His fame and profile managed itself too well already. Every time Harry had tried to engage with the press it had gone poorly. Not that ignoring the papers had helped much either, but at least it hadn't made things worse. "Thanks for the advice—and for the books. But I really just wanted to pick up my other things for school, so if you don't mind..."
"Ah, the folly of youth, eh?" said Lockhart, flashing his smile at Petunia, who swooned.
"Mum!" said Dudley. "God, you're so embarrassing..."
"You'll see in time, Harry, you'll see," continued Lockhart. "I have much to teach you about fame. I can see that! Oho, I can see that. Here's a first little lesson for you: fame is hard to come by—for some of us at least!—so don't be afraid to use it! There's no sense shrinking into the background, not when you've already got a profile."
"Right, thanks," Harry said. "I'll be sure to remember that."
"Ah, I hope you do," Lockhart said. He gestured to a flustered shop assistant. "Get young Harry here his books, would you? Yes, yes, the ones I signed earlier—that's the ticket!" Lockhart turned back towards Petunia. "Madam, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He kissed her hand again.
"Oi!" said Dudley.
But Lockhart didn't seem to care. Instead, he turned away to sit at his book-signing table to bask in the adoration of his fans.
The shop assistant hurried along and pressed an overflowing bag of books into Harry's arms before trying to scurry away.
"Er, actually—could you grab me these books from my list as well?" Harry said. He fished in his pocket for his Hogwarts letter. "Only, I want to get away before... er..." He glanced over at Lockhart.
"Say no more," said the shop witch. "I won't take long—we've got all the Hogwarts books ready in back. Give me a second." She disappeared into the back of the shop and came back a couple of minutes later with the rest of Harry's books. "You can pay at the counter, Mr Potter," she said.
"That's brilliant, thanks!" Harry said, and he pushed his way through the thronged masses to get to the counter in order to pay.
"I had wanted to browse a little," admitted Petunia while they waited, "but I suppose now isn't the time..."
"I promise the next time I bring you here," Harry said, "we can stop and have a look." Although quite what Petunia, the muggle, wanted with a shop full of books on magic was something Harry didn't fully understand. He paid for his books and all three of them managed to escape the crowded bookshop only to find themselves in an equally full Diagon Alley.
"Sorry," Harry said once they were safely outside. "That's—well, that's never happened to me before," he said. "Bit of a pain but at least it's over now..."
"Creepy fu—git," Dudley said. "What's he doing, kissing Mum's hand?"
"Oh, hush, darling—he was just being nice," Petunia said, her face red.
"Hm," said Harry. He rather doubted that, but then Lockhart seemed to have that effect on ladies of all ages, and the less Harry had to think about his aunt as a lady, the better. "Well, I thought we could go and get something to eat? Not at the Cauldron—I've heard the food there isn't, er, that good. But there's a café just down this side-street I've eaten at before and it's quite nice."
Truthfully, the food at the Cauldron was meant to be fine, but Harry didn't think his aunt could cope with the general aesthetic, and he himself didn't want to push his luck with any more public appearances. As the café was out of the way of the main street Harry thought that even if it were busy, it would be busy with the sort of people who'd wanted to get away from the crowds, and who probably wouldn't subject him to any unsolicited photoshoots.
Harry led his aunt and cousin to the little café and found that it was quite full, although not so full as to be turning away customers. They sat down for a decent lunch, and when they were done, went to get the last few bits and pieces Harry needed for school. On their way out of the Alley Dudley stopped and pointed out one of the shops.
"Can we get some ice cream, Mum?" he asked, pointing at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. He'd taken to wizarding sweets and desserts like a fish took to swimming, and almost never passed up the opportunity for more. "And if it's good, we can bring some back for Dad, and to have for dessert after our takeaway later."
Despite Dudley's enthusiasm, however, Harry didn't think they'd get their ice cream any time soon. A long column of wizards and witches snaked from the doors and there was even a flashing sign noting that the shop was doing 'TAKEAWAYS ONLY'.
"Well..." said Petunia, checking her watch. "I suppose we do have time, even with that queue..."
It took near enough a full hour for them to get their ice cream, but Harry didn't mind all that much. Florean Fortescue's ice cream was worth it. They took away their ice cream to eat as they walked back through muggle London towards where Petunia had parked the car, along with the box of ice cream they'd chosen for later – safely held under a timed Freezing Charm – as Petunia held a mostly one-sided conversation with the two boys.
Harry left her to it, grunting and offering small answers at appropriate points in the conversation, but his heart wasn't in it. He kept thinking on what Lockhart had said about fame, and about being afraid to use it. There was fame, and then there was whatever Lockhart was doing – camera chasing, courting publicity, being the centre of attention. He didn't mind people knowing what he'd done but being on display all the time felt wrong.
Harry knew he was famous. He knew he'd even courted fame and glory himself with his duelling and his flying. He hadn't spent much time out of the papers that summer, between the Duelling Circuit's Summer Tournament and the Wizengamot trial with Malfoy. But that seemed altogether different from what Lockhart was doing, and he'd hoped it would still allow him time to be himself. To do things without eyes on him all the time. Life seemed better with an ability to work unseen at least some of the time... but Harry wondered if perhaps he'd made a mistake in pursuing competition, especially if it led to a life like Lockhart's. Was glory and prestige even worth it if it led to massed crowds and vanity like Lockhart's? Or could Harry pursue his goals and manage to have a private life?
We picked the worst day for shopping, Harry decided.
Harry managed to stop thinking on it by the time they got home as he had to go right upstairs to sort his school things for the coming year, but the thoughts sat there, lurking, even so.