Chapter 164: Knockturn Alley
The next few weeks were a fun filled blur. We spent most of our days playing two-a-side Quidditch in the Weasleys' orchard (Harry and Hermione against Ginny and I; Hermione was dreadful and Ginny good, so they were reasonably well matched) and Mum continued giving Harry third and fourth helpings, saying that he just wasn't big enough.
Hermione didn't come up to sleep in my bed anymore, and we didn't bring up the moment that we had, which was a bit discouraging. I had wanted to talk about it many times, but it seemed as if she was not trying to discuss it.
It would have been a happy, peaceful holiday had it not been for the stories of disappearances, odd accidents, even of deaths now appearing almost daily in the Prophet. Sometimes Bill and Dad brought home news before it even reached the paper.
To Mum's displeasure, Harry's sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.
"There have been another couple of dementor attacks," he announced, as Mum passed him a large slice of birthday cake. "And they've found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it... well, frankly, I'm surprised he stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Sirius's brother, Regulus, only managed a few days as far as I can remember."
"Yes, well," said Mum, frowning, "perhaps we should talk about something diff-"
"Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?" asked Bill, who was being plied with wine by Fleur. "The man who ran-"
"- the ice-cream place in Diagon Alley?" Harry interrupted with a gasp. "He used to give me free ice creams. What's happened to him?"
"Dragged off, by the look of his place."
"Why?" I asked, while Mum glared at Bill, willing him to shut the hell up.
"Who knows? He must've upset them somehow. He was a good man, Florean." said Bill.
"Talking of Diagon Alley," said Dad, "looks like Ollivander's gone too."
"The wand-maker?" said Ginny, looking startled.
"That's the one. Shop's empty. No sign of a struggle. No one knows whether he left voluntarily or was kidnapped."
"But wands-what'll people do for wands?"
"They'll make do with other makers," said Lupin. "But Ollivander was the best, and if the other side have got him it's not so good for us."
The day after this rather gloomy birthday tea, our letters and booklists arrived from Hogwarts. Harry's included a surprise: he had been made Quidditch Captain.
"That gives you equal status with prefects!" cried Hermione happily. "You can use our special bathroom now and everything!"
"Wow, I remember when Charlie wore one of these," I said, examining the badge with glee. "Harry, this is so cool, you're my Captain... if you let me back on the team, I suppose, haha."
Even though Harry was my best mate, I knew he would be a fair captain and make sure that everyone had a fair shot. Although, I thought about saving myself the embarrassment and not trying out at all.
"Well, I don't suppose we can put off a trip to Diagon Alley much longer now you've got these," sighed Mum, looking over my booklist. "We'll go on Saturday as long as your father doesn't have to go into work again. I'm not going there without him."
"Mum, d'you honestly think You-Know-Who's going to be hiding behind a bookshelf in Flourish and Blotts?" I chuckled.
"Fortescue and Ollivander went on holiday, did they?" huffed Mum. "If you think security's a laughing matter you can stay behind and I'll get your things myself!"
"No, I wanna come, I want to see Fred and George's shop!" I said, saving my hands in surrender.
"Then you just buck up your ideas, young man, before I decide you're too immature to come with us!" said Mum angrily, snatching up her clock, all nine hands of which were still pointing at mortal peril, and balancing it on top of a pile of just-laundered towels. "And that goes for returning to Hogwarts as well!"
I turned to stare incredulously at Harry as Mum stormed out of the room.
"Blimey... you can't even make a joke round here anymore." I grumbled.
"To be fair Ron, it really isn't a joking matter." said Hermione in her matter of fact voice. I glared at her.
I made sure not to make any jokes about what was going on for the next few days. Saturday dawned without any more outbursts from Mum, though she seemed very tense at breakfast. Bill, who would be staying at home with Fleur (much to Hermione and Ginny's pleasure), passed a full money bag across the table to Harry.
"Where's mine?" I demanded.
"That's already Harry's, idiot," said Bill. "I got it out of your vault for you, Harry, because it's taking about five hours for the public to get to their gold at the moment, the goblins have tightened security so much. Two days ago Arkie Philpott had a Probity Probe stuck up his... Well, trust me, this way's easier."
"Thanks, Bill," said Harry, pocketing his gold.
"'E is always so thoughtful," purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill's nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Harry choked over his cornflakes, and I thumped him on the back, snickering.
It was an overcast, murky day. One of the special Ministry of Magic cars was awaiting us in the front yard when we emerged from the house, pulling on our cloaks.
"It's good Dad can get us these again," I said as I admired the seats in the car, stretching out. The car moved smoothly away from the Burrow, Bill and Fleur waving from the kitchen window. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and I were all sitting in roomy comfort in the wide backseat.
"Don't get used to it, it's only because of Harry," said Dad over his shoulder. He and Mum were in front with the Ministry driver; the front passenger seat had obligingly stretched into what resembled a two-seater sofa. "He's been given top-grade security status. And we'll be joining up with additional security at the Leaky Cauldron too."
Harry looked as if he were uncomfortable by Dad's words. Harry always felt like he didn't need any special treatment just because his name was Harry Potter. He grew tired of the stares, the whispers, the admiration that he would get when he went to a public place. Hell, even Hogwarts.
"Here you are, then," said the driver, a surprisingly short while later, speaking for the first time as he slowed in Charing Cross Road and stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron. "I'm to wait for you, any idea how long you'll be?"
"A couple of hours, I expect," said Dad. "Ah, good, he's here!"
We looked through the window, and Harry instantly perked up. There were no Aurors waiting outside the inn, but instead the gigantic, black-bearded form of Hagrid, wearing a long beaver skin coat, beaming at the sight of Harry's face and oblivious to the startled stares of passing Muggles.
"Harry!" he boomed, sweeping Harry into a bone-crushing hug the moment Harry had stepped out of the car. "Buckbeak-Witherwings, I mean-yeh should see him, Harry, he's so happy ter be back in the open air-"
"Glad he's pleased," said Harry, grinning as he massaged his ribs. "We didn't know 'security' meant you!"
"I know, jus' like old times, innit? See, the Ministry wanted ter send a bunch o' Aurors, but Dumbledore said I'd do," said Hagrid proudly, throwing out his chest and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. "Lets get goin' then-after yeh, Molly, Arthur-"
The Leaky Cauldron was completely empty. Only the landlord, wizened and toothless, remained of the old crowd. He looked up hopefully as we entered, but before he could speak, Hagrid said importantly, "Jus' passin' through today, Tom, sure yeh understand, Hogwarts business, yeh know."
Tom nodded gloomily and returned to wiping glasses; Harry, Hermione, Hagrid, me, and my family walked through the bar and out into the chilly little courtyard at the back where the dustbins stood. Hagrid raised his pink umbrella and rapped a certain brick in the wall, which opened at once to form an archway onto a winding cobbled street. We stepped through the entrance and paused, looking around.
Diagon Alley had changed. The colorful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients, and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of these somber purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary. A few windows were boarded up, including those of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. On the other hand, a number of shabby-looking stalls had sprung up along the street. The nearest one, which had been erected outside Flourish and Blotts, under a striped, stained awning, had a cardboard sign pinned to its front:
AMULETS: Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi
A seedy-looking little wizard was rattling armfuls of silver symbols on chains at passersby.
"One for your little girl, madam?" he called at Mum as we passed, leering at Ginny. "Protect her pretty neck?"
"If I were on duty..." said Dad, glaring angrily at the amulet seller.
"Yes, but don't go arresting anyone now, dear, we're in a hurry," said Mum, nervously consulting a list. "I think we'd better do Madam Malkin's first, Hermione wants new dress robes, and Ron's showing much too much ankle in his school robes, and you must need new ones too, Harry, you've grown so much... come on, everyone."
"Molly, it doesn't make sense for all of us to go to Madam Malkin's," said Dad. "Why don't those three go with Hagrid, and we can go to Flourish and Blotts and get everyone's school books?"
"I don't know," said Mum anxiously, clearly torn between a desire to finish the shopping quickly and the wish to stick together in a pack. "Hagrid, do you think-?"
"Don' fret, they'll be fine with me, Molly," said Hagrid soothingly, waving an airy hand the size of a dustbin lid. Mum did not look entirely convinced, but allowed the separation, scurrying off toward Flourish and Blotts with Dad and Ginny while Harry, Hermione, me, and Hagrid set off for Madam Malkin's.
It was barmy how as we passed by people, nobody was stopping to talk anymore; the shoppers stayed together in their own tightly knit groups, moving intently about their business. Nobody seemed to be shopping alone.
"Migh' be a bit of a squeeze in there with all o' us," said Hagrid, stopping outside Madam Malkin's and bending down to peer through the window. "I'll stand guard outside, all righ'?"
So the three of us entered the little shop together. It appeared, at first glance, to be empty, but no sooner had the door swung shut behind them then we heard a familiar voice issuing from behind a rack of dress robes in spangled green and blue.
"... not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone."
There was a clucking noise and a voice Harry recognized as that of Madam Malkin, the owner, said, "Now, dear, your mother's quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child-"
"Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!"
Fucking Malfoy with his pale, pointed face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack, wearing a stuck up set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. He strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed us reflected over his shoulder. His light gray eyes narrowed.
"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in," said Ferret Fuck.
Harry and I drew out our wands immediately, pointing them at Malfoy.
"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a tape measure and a wand. "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!"
Hermione, who was standing slightly behind me, whispered, "No, don't, honestly, it's not worth it. "
"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school," sneered Malfoy. "Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."
"That's quite enough!" said Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. "Madam-please-"
Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack.
"Put those away," she said coldly to Harry and I. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."
"Really?" said Harry, taking a step forward, eyes locked on the woman that looked like a blonde prettier version of her demonic sister. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"
Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart.
"Really, you shouldn't accuse... dangerous thing to say... wands away, please!"
But Harry did not lower his wand. Narcissa smiled unpleasantly.
"I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you."
Harry looked mockingly all around the shop. "Wow... look at that... he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!"
Malfoy made an angry movement toward Harry, but stumbled over his overlong robe, causing me to bust out in laughter.
"Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!" Malfoy snarled.
"It's all right, Draco," said Narcissa, restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder. "I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius."
Harry raised his wand higher.
"Harry, no!" moaned Hermione, grabbing his arm and attempting to push it down by his side. "Think... You mustn't... You'll be in such trouble."
Madam Malkin dithered for a moment on the spot, then seemed to decide to act as though nothing was happening in the hope that it wouldn't. She bent toward Malfoy, who was still glaring at Harry.
"I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just..."
"Ouch!" bellowed Malfoy, slapping her hand away. "Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother, I don't think I want these anymore."
He pulled the robes over his head and threw them onto the floor at Madam Malkin's feet.
"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa, with a contemptuous glance at Hermione, "now I know the kind of scum that shops here... We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tattings."
And with that, the pair of them strode out of the shop, Malfoy taking care to bang as hard as he could into me on the way out.
"Well, really!" said Madam Malkin, snatching up the fallen robes and moving the tip of her wand over them like a vacuum cleaner, so that it removed all the dust.
She was distracted all through the fitting of Harry and I's new robes, tried to sell Hermione wizard's dress robes instead of witch's, and when she finally bowed us out of the shop it was with an air of being glad to see the back of us.
"Got ev'rything?" asked Hagrid brightly when they reappeared at his side.
"Just about," said Harry. "Did you see the Malfoys?"
"Yeah," said Hagrid, unconcerned. "But they wouldn' dare make trouble in the middle o' Diagon Alley, Harry. Don' worry about them."
The three of us exchanged looks, but before we could tell Hagrid what happened, Mum. Dad, and Ginny appeared, all clutching heavy packages of books.
"Everyone all right?" said Mum. "Got your robes? Right then, we can pop in at the Apothecary and Eeylops on the way to Fred and George's... stick close, now."
Neither Harry nor I bought any ingredients at the Apothecary, seeing that we were no longer studying Potions, but we both bought large boxes of owl nuts for Hedwig and Pig at Eeylops Owl Emporium. Then, with Mum checking her watch every minute or so, we headed farther along the street in search of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop run by Fred and George.
"We really haven't got too long," Mum said. "So we'll just have a quick look around and then back to the car. We must be close, that's number ninety-two... ninety-four..."
"Whoa," I said, stopping in my tracks. Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop Fronts around us, Fred and George's windows hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Harry's eyes began to water just looking at it. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:
Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?
You SHOULD Be Worrying About
U-NO-POO-
the Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation!
Harry and I started to laugh. Mum on the other hand, wasn't too fond of it. Her lips moved silently, mouthing the name "U-No-Poo."
"They'll be murdered in their beds!" she whispered.
"No they won't!" I said, still laughing. "This is brilliant!"
And Harry and I led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers; we could not get near the shelves. I stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; it seemed that the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd, and Harry pushed his way toward the counter, where a gaggle of delighted ten-year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: Reusable hangman-spell it or he'll swing!
I left Harry and Hermione and continued to look around.
There was so much going on, I almost couldn't take it all in. They even had a figurine that mocked Umbitch, spitting out orders and insults.
I began to gather up things I figured I would need for school. A couple of deluxe skiving boxes, some trick wands, some things that I had no idea what they were, but they were colorful and interesting, and an Umbitch figurine. Surely Fred and George would let me get them for free, or at least half price.
"Hey, Ron." I heard a voice from behind me say. I turned and faced Lavender and Parvati. I was confused. Lavender never talked to me unless she absolutely felt she had to. Parvati was a bit nicer, but Lavender could be a shrew.
"Um...hi." I said, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Your brothers shop is pretty amazing." she said, with Parvati giggling beside her.
"Thanks...I'll let them know." I said slowly.
Lavender blushed, which was odd. "Are...are you going to go out for keeper this year?"
I sighed. So this is why she was speaking to me. She was wanting to take the mickey. "Don't think I will, no." I said in a cross voice.
"Well I think you should, you were absolutely brilliant last game." Lavender said, again, blushing.
"Are you having me on?"
"Not at all, I really mean it."she said, her voice surprisingly sincere.
I felt my insides twist a bit. On the one hand, this was Lavender Brown, one if the prettiest girls in Gryffindor (not as pretty as Hermione of course), speaking to me as if she should be nervous. On the other hand, it could have been a trick. I decided not to let my guard down.
"Thanks. I'll think about it." I said.
"Great. Well, see you on the train." giggled Lavender, giving me a small wave and then walking off with an equally giggling Parvati. I didn't know if my ears were deceiving me, but I could have sworn I heard Lavender tell Parvati "He's so gorgeous!"
I shook my head and made my way over to the twins with my stuff.
"It's none of your business. And I'll thank you," Ginny said angrily to me as I came up on them, "not to tell tales about me to these two!"
"What are you-"
"That's three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut," said Fred, examining the many boxes in my arms. "Cough up."
My jaw dropped. "I'm your brother!"
"And that's our stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I'll knock off the Knut."
"But I haven't got three Galleons, nine Sickles!"
"You'd better put it back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves."
I dropped several boxes, swore, and flicked Fred off. Unfortunately Mum chose that moment to appear.
"If I see you do that again I'll jinx your fingers together," she said sharply.
"Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?" said Ginny at once.
"A what?" said Mrs. Weasley warily.
"Look, they're so sweet..."
Mum moved aside to look at the Pygmy Puffs, and Harry, Hermione, and I looked out of the window. Malfoy was hurrying up the street alone. As he passed Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he glanced over his shoulder. Seconds later, he moved beyond the scope of the window and they lost sight of him.
"Wonder where his mummy is?" said Harry, frowning.
"Given her the slip by the looks of it," I said.
"Why, though?" said Hermione.
Harry looked around quickly, as if he was trying to see if the coast was clear.
"Get under here, quick," said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag.
"Oh-I don't know, Harry," said Hermione, looking uncertainly toward Mun.
"Come on," I said, tugging at her sleeve.
She hesitated for a second longer, then ducked under the cloak with Harry and I. Nobody noticed us vanish; they were all too interested in Fred and George's products. We squeezed our way out of the door as quickly as we could, but by the time we gained the street, Malfoy had disappeared just as successfully as we had.
"He was going in that direction," murmured Harry as quietly as possible, so that the humming Hagrid would not hear us. "C'mon..."
We scurried along, peering left and right, through shop windows and doors, until Hermione pointed ahead.
"That's him, isn't it?" she whispered. "Turning left?"
"Big surprise," I whispered.
For Malfoy had glanced around, then slid into Knockturn Alley and out of sight.
"Quick, or we'll lose him," said Harry, speeding up.
"Our feet'll be seen!" said Hermione anxiously, as the cloak flapped a little around our ankles; it was much more difficult hiding all three of us under the cloak nowadays.
"It doesn't matter," said Harry impatiently. "Just hurry!"
But Knockturn Alley, the side street devoted to the Dark Arts, looked completely deserted. We peered into windows as we passed, but none of the shops seemed to have any customers at all.
"Ouch!" said Harry, rubbing his arm. Hermione had pinched him.
"Shh! Look! He's in there!" she breathed in Harry's ear.
We had drawn level with the only shop in Knockturn Alley that Harry had ever visited, Borgin and Burkes, which sold a wide variety of sinister objects. There in the midst of the cases full of skulls and old bottles stood the fucker with his back to us, just visible beyond a very large black cabinet . Judging by the movements of Malfoy's hands, he was talking animatedly. The shop owner an oily-haired, stooping man, stood facing Malfoy. He was wearing a curious expression of mingled resentment and fear.
"If only we could hear what they're saying!" said Hermione.
"We can!" I said excitedly. "Hang on...damn."
I dropped a couple more of the boxes I was still clutching as I fumbled with the largest.
"Extendable Ears, look!"
"Fantastic!" said Hermione, as I unraveled the long, flesh-colored strings and began to feed them toward the bottom of the door. "Oh, I hope the door isn't Imperturbable-"
"No!" I said gleefully. "Listen!"
We put our heads together and listened intently to the ends of the strings, through which Malfoy's voice could be heard loud and clear, as though a radio had been turned on.
"... you know how to fix it?"
"Possibly," said the owner, whom Harry informed me that his name was Borgin, in a tone that suggested he was unwilling to commit himself. "I'll need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it into the shop?"
"I can't," said Malfoy. "It's got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it."
Borgin lick his lips nervously. "Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn't guarantee anything."
"No?" said Malfoy, his tone indicating that he was sneering. "Perhaps this will make you more confident."
He moved toward Borgin and was blocked from view by the cabinet. We shuffled sideways to try and keep him in sight, but all we could see was Borgin, looking very frightened.
"Tell anyone," said Malfoy, "and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend. He'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention."
"There will be no need for-"
"I'll decide that," said Malfoy. "Well, I'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that one safe, I'll need it."
"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?"
"No, of course I wouldn't, you stupid, little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it."
"Of course not... sir."
Borgin made a deep bow like Malfoy was some fucking prince.
"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?"
"Naturally, naturally," murmured Borgin, bowing again.
Next moment, the bell over the door tinkled loudly as Malfoy stalked out of the shop looking very pleased with himself. He passed so close to us that we felt the cloak flutter around our knees again. Inside the shop, Borgin remained frozen; his unctuous smile had vanished; he looked worried.
"What was that about?" I whispered, reeling in the Extendable Ears.
"Dunno," said Harry. "He wants something mended... and he wants to reserve something in there... Could you see what he pointed at when he said 'that one'?"
"No, he was behind that cabinet-"
"You two stay here," whispered Hermione.
"What are you-?"
But Hermione had already ducked out from under the cloak. She checked her hair in the reflection in the glass, then marched into the shop, setting the bell tinkling again. I hastily fed the Extendable Ears back under the door and passed one of the strings to Harry.
"Hello, horrible morning, isn't it?" Hermione said brightly to Borgin, who did not answer, but cast her a suspicious look. Humming cheerily, Hermione strolled through the jumble of objects on display.
"Is this necklace for sale?" she asked, pausing beside a glass-fronted case.
"If you've got one and a half thousand Galleons," said Mr. Borgin coldly.
"Oh-er-no, I haven't got quite that much," said Hermione, walking on. "And... what about this lovely-um-skull?"
"Sixteen Galleons."
"So it's for sale, then? It isn't being... kept for anyone?"
Mr. Borgin squinted at her, as if he knew exactly what Hermione was up to. Apparently Hermione felt she had been rumbled too because she suddenly threw caution to the winds.
"The thing is, that-er-boy who was in here just now, Draco Malfoy, well, he's a friend of mine, and I want to get him a birthday present, but if he's already reserved anything, I obviously don't want to get him the same thing, so... um..."
Harry and i looked at each other and rolled our eyes. It was a very lame story, and apparently Borgin thought so too.
"Out," he said sharply. "Get out!"
Hermione did not wait to be asked twice, but hurried to the door with Borgin at her heels. As the bell tinkled again, Borgin slammed the door behind her and put up the closed sign.
"Ah well," I said, throwing the cloak back over Hermione. "Worth a try, but you were a bit obvious-"
"Well, next time you can show me how it's done, Master of Mystery!" she snapped as we made our way out of Knockturn Alley.
"Don't get mad at me just because you can't make up a good bluff!"
"It was out of the blue Ronald, what was I supposed to do?!"
"Perhaps lie better next time?!"
"Oh forgive me for not being a professional liar!"
"You're being obnoxious."
"I'M BEING OBNOXIOUS?!"
"BOTH OF YOU ARE BEING OBNOXIOUS, SHUT UP!" said Harry before we walked back into the twins shop.