Chapter 4

Diagon Alley

The months of July and August swiftly passed though the weather continued to be as hot and humid as ever. Strangely enough, there had not been any rainy days following the most recent Death Eater meeting, which had taken place in early July. However, this had little to no effect on Draco, as he spent most of his time cooped up in his room armed with only sheets of parchment and a quill.

These long sessions with said utensils would often include the plotting of numerous plans, all concluding with the death of Albus Dumbledore. However, these carefully outlined tactics would usually become mere crumpled balls of paper, lazily tossed into a waste basket near the foot of Draco’s bed, where he’d lie in desperation.

Even as the days slowly drifted by, his luck did not improve. Aunt Bella’s frequent visits had provided no help (not that Draco’d actually let her), but instead, supplied Draco with ample amounts of what she liked to call ‘constructive criticism’. At one point, Draco thought his aunt could not become any more useless; but when she refused to reveal the most measly of details on her secret rendezvous with Professor Snape, he realized that he was truly all alone, and very much doomed.

But currently, Draco was wonderfully not thinking about his ominous task, and instead, was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His room was dimly lit as the sunshine pouring in through his window only fleetingly touched random areas on his wooden floor. The sun’s rays, though not bright enough to fully wake him, were enough to disturb him from the little sleep that he had had. Though he knew he should get up, his muscles seemed to be paralyzed with exhaustion from the night before. He’d been up till two in the morning staring at the walls in his room, hoping that a magical solution to his task would draw itself upon the blank surface.

Needless to say, it had been wishful thinking.

Draco reluctantly swung his legs over his bed and shivered as his feet hit the cold floor. He yawned while making his way out of his room and towards the bathroom.

“Draco!”

He spun around towards the direction of the sound. Standing in the middle of the corridor was his mother, dressed in an elaborate cloak, her aristocratic blonde hair tumbling down her back.

“Hurry up. It is eleven o’clock. What have you been doing?”

“I was working last night,” Draco yawned.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. “And what would you be working on in the middle of the summer, Draco?”

“Things.”

“Things?”

“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Watch your tongue, Draco. Put on some clothes. I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

“Where are we going?”

“Diagon Alley. Hogwarts is starting in a week, so you’ll need supplies, won’t you? Hopefully, this year will be better than the last.”

“It’s not my fault-”

“Do not blame that pathetic Mudblood. How long have you used that excuse? Now hurry. Lolly will have your breakfast ready.” With a swish of her cloak, she began to make her way down the winding stairs.

Draco dramatically rolled his eyes towards where Narcissa had just stood. He knew the real reasoning behind her sour mood. Last evening, Ministry officials had visited the Manor, demanding to search the house. With three wands pointing at her and her son, Narcissa could not have refused- but that didn’t stop it from taking a toll on her pride.

Draco shuffled into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. His blond hair was disheveled and stuck up in all sorts of directions (disgustingly reminding him of Potter) while his bad sleeping habits had taken a larger toll, causing puffy purple bags to underline his eyes.

Sticking his head out of the bathroom and into the hall, he yelled, “I’ll be down in a while!”

~*~

Draco marched down the last few steps of the staircase and landed on the third floor. He took a sharp turn towards the right and began to walk down the lit hallway. His newly pressed cloak trailed behind him as the train tickled the back of his heels with its velvety touch. A strand of blond hair hung perfectly near his high cheekbones with such purpose that it seemed to be as much a part of him as his arms and legs. He knew rays of confidence and arrogance were put forth with every step he took- so much so that he’d even give Lucius Malfoy a run for his money.

He reached the doors leading into the breakfast room on the patio and pushed them open.

Immediately, he was struck by a sudden burst of light. His hands flew up to his eyes as he took a surprised stumble backwards.

“Merlin!”

“Sorry, Dear.” His mother, while chewing on a danish at the opposite side of the glass table, smiled at Draco. “Here you go.” With a wave of her wand, a curtain unraveled from the top of the patio roof, blocking out the sun.

Draco grunted irritably and slid down into his chair. Grabbing a knife, he began to butter his toast.

Narcissa cleared her throat. “We’ll be leaving in an hour,” she began. “We’ll have to go to Gringotts and draw some money from our vault.”

Draco frowned. “Why? Don’t we have enough in the house? Have you checked Father’s study?”

Narcissa coughed uncomfortably. “I had to- ah, empty the safe in your father’s study recently. I owed certain people some money for keeping some of your father’s- select possessions safe. Thankfully, I called in the favor before yesterday’s…fiasco, to say the least.”

Draco didn’t bother pressing the matter, even though questions were exploding within his head like lit fireworks. Of late, she had been providing the same useless information like her sister. Apparently, they all thought he was much too delicate to handle any serious facts; perhaps the fact that he was a Death Eater given the task of killing one of the most accomplished wizards of their time slipped their minds.

Draco tossed the last piece of toast into his mouth. Neatly dusting the crumbs off his front, he got up.

Narcissa rose as well. “Do you have your wand?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “What for? I’m underage, remember?”

“These days, one can never be too safe, Draco,” Narcissa answered gravely.

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe, considering we have the protection of the winning side.”

“We only have the protection of the Dark Lord for as long as we serve him.”

Draco stood motionless, shocked at his mother’s words. Slowly, he said, “What are you trying to say?”

Narcissa waved her hand. “Nothing; nothing that you should be worried about.”

“Actually-”

“Draco!” snapped Narcissa. “Let’s leave this topic. Come, hurry. I want to visit Flourish and Blotts before it closes down for the day. I heard they have a new cookbook out…” Her voice trailed off as she exited the breakfast room and returned into the manor.

Draco followed his mother inside, snarling with annoyance.

“Draco, in the Floo room,” Narcissa called.

Draco turned right into another winding hallway. He began to regret not wearing socks as he rubbed his arms from the blatant coldness of the floor. He caught sight of a plain wooden door to his left and stopped. Turning the brass handle, he entered the room.

Every time Draco walked into the ‘Floo Room’, as his mother liked to call it, he was horribly reminded of Professor Umbridge’s office in Hogwarts (he very much liked the woman herself, but her taste in tablecloths would make even the coldest of Slytherins cringe). But perhaps this uncanny resemblance in design was directly related to the fact that the designer of the room was Professor Umbridge herself.

In Draco’s fourth year, the ‘Floo Room’ (complete with 10 fireplaces, each connected to a secure Floo network) was given to the Malfoy family as a gift of thanks for Lucius’ many contributions to charity and, as Fudge had liked to phrase it, “the overall pursuit of goodness in humanity”.

Draco sniggered at the thought of Fudge’s blabbering. Lucius’ reward for his ‘pursuit of goodness’ had actually been used to provide the Death Eaters with a means of transportation to and from the manor. Nevertheless, despite Fudge’s grave misconceptions and Professor Umbridge’s disgusting overuse of pink wallpaper (that adamantly stuck to the walls, no doubt a result of her mule-like stubbornness), the Floo room had provided to be invaluable to the Malfoy family. It was completely unique- the only other family in possession of such a facility was the Fudges themselves. Of course, the incoming and outgoing Floo-users were carefully monitored by Lucius, but with the security that the system came with, it really wasn’t necessary. And with the Mafloys’ dangerously persuasive influence that discouraged Ministry induced snooping, it was completely and utterly private.

That is, until Lucius was imprisoned. After that, the Ministry had completely invaded the once secluded Malfoy Floo network. In fact, the only reason they had let the Malfoys keep the room was in the hope that the Dark Lord himself would pop out of one of the chimneys.

“Here’s some Floo Powder,” said Narcissa. She passed Draco a pot filled with emerald green powder. Draco grabbed a handful as he slid his shoes that rested near the fireplace onto his feet.

She continued on once he passed the pot back. “Now remember, speak clearly. It’s ‘Diagon Alley’-”

“Mother, can we hurry?” he snapped. He wanted to this be over as soon as possible.

“Right, of course. Now, you go in first.”

Draco, feeling foolish as he always did when using the Floo, climbed into one of the fireplaces. As usual, the flames were painless. Clearing his throat, he yelled, “Diagon Alley!” as he threw the fistful of Floo powder into the air.

Draco’s elbows rattled beside his body as he began to violently spin around. He bounced between the walls of the chimney as he spun round and round, his hair flying in front of his face. Glimpses of various fireplaces passed him while soot continued to be spewed up his nose. Finally, when Draco was sure that a piece of coal had become lodged in his underpants, the spinning stopped and he was thrown to the ground.

Coughing, he struggled to stand up. The ground around him was littered with specs of black soot from his robes and mouth. One thing was clear- he had still not gotten used to traveling by Floo.

Around him, hundreds of people were streaming in through the entrance on the opposite side of the room which bore a sign reading ‘Thank You for Using Diagon Alley’s Floo Centre!’, before joining one of the cues in front of the many fireplaces. A gigantic pot was situated in the middle of the room and was filled to the brim with green Floo powder. Three dirty house elves continuously circled around the base of the pot while snapping their fingers whenever they came across some fly away powder. Just as Draco was about to walk a few paces towards the exit, a sudden swooping noise came from behind him.

He spun around to see his mother gracefully landing onto the floor on, he grudgingly noticed, her two feet. She subtly shook the soot out of her hair before walking over to Draco.

Draco frowned as he said, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Narcissa questioned.

“How do you land so…”

“Oh, Draco, stop acting so foolishly. Come on now, we should be hurrying to Gringotts.”

She strode forward past Draco and headed towards the exit. Draco trailed behind her. Obvious angry whispers and dark looks followed them as they both crossed the room. Draco looked at his mother and suddenly felt a rush of affection as she walked indifferently passed them, her chin in the air. He reached the doors of the exit and gave a good push, walking out onto the gravel path.

Instantaneously, his senses were thrown into overload. Though “Warning” posters had been plastered all over shops, bearing warnings of the rise of the Dark Lord, the village was still as busy as ever. But Draco noticed a definite change from the memories of his past visits to the sight in front of him: instead of the large mob of boisterous people that usually flooded the streets, they were now clustered in small groups, whispering in low voices amongst themselves. This change almost saddened Draco until he realized that at that moment, half of them were probably whispering about him and his mother’s appearance.

“Come along, Draco,” Narcissa called as she crossed the road.

Draco walked across the street and stopped in front of the entrance of Gringotts to quickly glanced at the gold engraved plaque placed on the doorway. He smirked. Anyone foolish enough to attempt to rob Gringotts was better off stuck in one of their booby trapped vaults.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” said an oily voice.

Draco looked down at the source of the noise and saw a stout goblin greasily smiling up at him. His yellowed teeth glimmered in the sunlight as he stuck a stubby hand out towards Draco.

“Pleasure seeing you two here,” the goblin continued.

Sneering, Draco ignored the goblin’s hand.

“How have you been, ah-” Narcissa asked, disdain dripping in her voice.

“Bimly, Miss, Bimly. And I have been fine, just fine. Although I can’t say the same for you Mrs. Malfoy, haha,” snickered Bimly.

Draco clenched his fists at his side and resisted the urge to throw a good punch. “Goblin,” he spat. “I suggest you be careful of what you say and to whom you say it to. Or have you forgotten the power that the Malfoy family holds?”

Bimli’s yellow cheeks blushed a pale pink. “Of course not, Mr. Malfoy. I-”

Narcissa sneered. “Come, Draco. We have better things to do than speaking to vermin.” Draco nodded and walked passed the flustered goblin, and pushed open the golden doors.

The insides of Gringotts were almost as busy as the streets of Diagon Alley. Noisy cues reached till all sides of the foyer and wound around the hundreds of goblins that scurried across the floor, madly muttering to no one in particular.

“Well this won’t do, now will it?” Narcissa said quietly.

“Why is it so busy?”

“Hogwarts is starting soon. Even more, with the circumstances of late…” But she did not carry on. Instead, she pulled Draco, who had made a move to join one of the cues, and dragged him to her side.

“Don’t be silly, Draco.” She waved her hand and motioned for him to follow her.

They walked towards the opposite end of the vast chamber. Draco frowned impatiently as he followed his mother; he was getting tired of being constantly out of the loop. Upon reaching the other side, Narcissa skidded to an abrupt halt, causing Draco to trip and latch onto her robes.

“Draco, what are you doing?” she asked with a hint of annoyance.

“What am I doing?!”

“Nevermind then. Now, do you see that goblin standing there in the corner?”

Draco followed his mother’s gaze. Standing in the corner closest to them was a small goblin. To Draco’s surprise, the goblin’s knees appeared to be shaking and he flickered his eyes nervously towards the surrounding wizards. From what Draco could tell, he was quite young in comparison to his old co-workers.

“He seems so frightened and alone,” Narcissa noted.

Draco widened his eyes. “What are you talking about? Are you feeling sorry for him?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Narcissa snorted. “Pity is something I will never feel for these…creatures. But this goblin…well, he certainly will come in handy.” She didn’t elaborate on this vague statement but instead, walked over towards the goblin.

Draco, perplexed, followed.

“Hello there,” Narcissa said kindly to the goblin. Sweetness practically oozed from her every word. Draco gazed at his mother in amazement, but kept silent.

The goblin, shaking even more than before, looked up. “Y-yes, Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Ah, you know our names. Very good, very good,” Narcissa said happily. “Now, why are you looking so frightened on this lovely day?”

The goblin must have wholeheartedly believed Narcissa’s comforting words for he began to ramble on. “Well, it’s my first day on the job you see, Mrs. Malfoy, and I haven’t had much training…with the job shortages and all, there’s been a real need for more employees. It’s quite over-overwhelming to say the least, and-”

“That’s very nice,” Narcissa cut off. Draco noticed the sweetness slowly ebbing away from her tone. “But what I was wondering was if you’d be able to help us.”

“With-with what, Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Well you see, we are in such a hurry, and really can’t afford to be standing in all these cues.” She waved her hand towards the lines of people and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Why don’t you just hop into one of those carts and take us along, for the, ah, ride?”

“I’m afraid…I’m afraid I can not Mrs. Malfoy. Gringotts p-policy.” His knees were shaking so badly now that it seemed as though he had just come back from a lengthy stay in the Arctic.

“Is that so?” Narcissa exclaimed, clearly in mock surprise.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” The goblin replied earnestly, obviously relieved at Narcissa’s quick uptake.

“Well perhaps this will change your mind. Draco, Dear.”

Draco stumbled forward as she caught his left arm and pushed up his sleeve, revealing his Dark Mark.

The goblin gave a strangled gasp and hurriedly backed into the marble wall. He wildly shifted his eyes from side to side while spluttering several chocked phrases.

“Frightening, isn’t it?” commented Narcissa pleasantly.

The goblin terrifyingly nodded.

“Now will you help me?”

The goblin froze, his eyes madly blinking at Narcissa. She thrusted Draco’s arm closer to his face. Finally, the goblin submissively nodded and straightened his back. He motioned a trembling hand towards a corridor on the left of the foyer as he walked forward.

Draco couldn’t help but snigger, even with the jabbing pain in his left arm. “Excellent job, Mother.”

Narcissa smiled. “I thought so. Come on, we don’t have all day.” Walking forward, she caught up to the goblin and shifted places, making sure that it looked as if the goblin was pursuing her. Draco, with a faint hint of a snigger still plastered on his face, ran up ahead.

“Now goblin,” Narcissa said softly out of the corners of her mouth once they were a good distance away from the main chamber, “I could have easily placed an Imperious curse on you; you do know that, right?”

The goblin nodded shakily.

“Excellent- just checking. You seem smarter than the rest of your kind; this will make this process much more pleasurable. Now, what you will do is get a cart to accommodate the three of us and take us quietly to the Malfoy vault- I presume you know the vault number.” The goblin nodded once again and Narcissa smiled before pressing on. “Goblin, I daresay that if you knew my surname, you must also know how busy us Malfoys get. Really, if we weren’t always on the move, I wouldn’t have bothered you on your first day.”

The goblin, unsure as to what to say to this sudden declaration, clumsily waggled his round head. Draco stared at his shoes, afraid that he was going to burst out laughing.

Abruptly, the goblin skidded on the marble floor to a halt in front of a large lit tunnel on their right. Shakily, he turned to Draco and Narcissa and said, “We are here, Mrs. and Mr. Malfoy.”

“Well, where’s the cart then?” Draco asked nastily. He turned to peer into the tunnel.

Just as he turned, a faint buzzing noise began to come from within the tunnel. In a matter of seconds, the buzzing noise grew louder and louder until suddenly, a cart came streaming out at break neck’s speed. It stopped with a screeching halt at the end of the wrought iron tracks, which happened to be only a few centimeters from where Draco stood, petrified.

Draco widened his eyes and opened his mouth in a silent scream as he stared at the cart. His lower jaw slowly rose to meet the upper one while his eyes shifted back into their sockets. Shaking, he turned to the goblin, who, from what Draco could see, was trying to fight back a laugh.

“Next time, goblin,” Draco whispered venomously. “Let me know whether I’m about to be run over to my death, alright? Or else I’m afraid you’ll be meeting your death much sooner than you expect.”

The traces of laughter melted off the goblin’s face as he quickly resumed foolishly nodding. He opened the latch of the door that led into the cart and motioned his hand for them to climb in.

Draco took his seat on the cool seat of the cramped cart. To his left, Narcissa was carefully inspecting the seat before she reluctantly sat down.

“Maybe we could persuade the goblin to provide us with more satisfactory means of transportation,” Draco smirked while tapping his left forearm.

Narcissa shot him a sharp look to which his smirk immediately fell of his face. Annoyance, for the third time that morning, flooded his veins. He looked imploringly at his mother, yet her gaze remained as stoic as ever. Exasperated, he turned to face the opposite direction.

“A-Are we all ready?” the goblin stammered.

“Clearly,” Narcissa replied coolly.

“Yes, yes of course. Well, then. Brace yourselves-” He touched a single finger to a perfectly-sized indent in the side of the cart, and all of a sudden, they burst forward.

The flames of the torches that lined the tunnel seemed to blur into one big mass of orange as the cart gained speed. Draco gripped the edges of the cart and closed his eyes while trying to concentrate on the sound of the droplets of water falling from the ceiling to the floor. It was a fruitless attempt however, because all Draco really wanted to focus on was not throwing up. He briefly opened his eyes and glanced at his mother; to his outrage, she looked as composed as ever.

The cart took a sharp left and Draco was lurched onto the other side. He cringed at the thought of the ugly bruise that would be forming on his arm in a few hours. The stabs of pain were soon accompanied by a dizzy head, and then followed by itchy eyes. After a few minutes, when Draco was seriously considering jumping out of the speeding vehicle, the cart came to an unexpected stop.

Once again, Draco was thrown forward and landed in a crumpled mess on the floor of the cart. Groaning, he stretched his limbs and rose up. He made his way to the now open door of the cart and climbed out.

His mother was waiting off the tracks in front of a large vault, tapping her foot impatiently. Behind her, the goblin was examining a ring of keys, quietly muttering to himself.

Draco limped over towards his mother and gasped through the pain in his leg, “It was never this bad!”

“That’s because we had our family’s vault moved into the high security vaults, deeper within the labyrinth.”

“How come?”

Narcissa stiffened. “The Ministry’s silly little interferences, that’s all. Come, Draco. Let us go see what the goblin is doing. His kind is known to be quite accomplished thieves.” She said the last sentence with particular contempt before marching over to the goblin, who apparently had taken no notice of the insult.

“Stand back please,” the goblin said once Draco and Narcissa had reached the steel vault. He stretched out the same finger which had been used to start the cart and stroked the edge of the vault. The metal door instantly vanished, revealing its glittering contents.

The goblin gasped. Eyes wide, he stammered, “B-but they said the Malfoy family was –“

“Was in ruins?” Narcissa finished meanly. “Please do tell- ah, what was his name? Oh yes, Bimly. Yes, please tell Bimly and others who are doubtful about the Malfoy status that our family’s fortune is still as boastful as ever.” She smirked at the goblin’s shocked gape before leaning in to the vault and scooping mountains of coins into two leather pouches.

“Draco, take this.” She handed him one of the pouches which seemed considerably larger than the other. “It’s your pocket money for school. Of course, you can expect more when you come home for the holidays.” She carefully placed the other leather pouch into her cloak before turning to the goblin. “Goblin, I believe we can leave now.”

The goblin seemed to have recovered from his earlier shock for he quickly replied, “Of course, of course. If you’d c-climb into the cart…”

Draco reluctantly followed his mother into the cart. He highly doubted that the ride back up would be any more pleasant than the one before.

The goblin quickly scurried in after Draco. He must have been quite relieved to be ridding himself of Draco and Narcissa’s presence for his mouth broke into a small smile as he meekly asked, “Ready?”

~*~

The toast in his stomach threatened to make a most unwelcome appearance as Draco clutched the sides of the cart. He climbed out of the cart with his mother while the goblin followed behind them.

“That is all, I am-am assuming, Mrs. Malfoy?” the goblin stammered over the buzzing of the cart returning into the tunnel.

Narcissa turned to face the goblin and looked at him coldly. “Oh, no, there is one more thing.”

Draco frowned. He wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the lighting, but he was almost certain that his mother eyes were flickering back and forth between the surrounding halls, which were as void of people as before.

“What is left to do?” the goblin asked, bewildered.

Narcissa laughed. She drew her wand out and pointed it towards the goblin’s temple.

“Obliviate.”

A cloudy mist formed and covered the goblin’s large eyes. Narcissa slowly drew her wand back into her cloak while Draco stood silent. The mist slowly dissipated and the goblin’s eyes came back into focus. He then noticed Draco and Narcissa and at once, his mouth fell open.

“Mrs. and Mr. Malfoy…how- how nice to s-see you here,” the goblin stuttered. “What brings you b-both here?”

Draco noticed the return of the goblin’s shaking knees. “Oh, we just came out of the cue.” Draco said.

“Ah, I see…” The goblin averted his fearful eyes towards the busy foyer which was a few meters away. “I hope your v-visit was enjoyable, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Oh yes,” Narcissa said sweetly. “We’ve been served very well.”

~*~

“Why did you give me that look when we were in the cart?” Draco asked suddenly. He exited Gringotts in stride with his mother and they both started walking down the street.

“What are you talking about, Draco?” Narcissa replied.

“You shot me a look after I threatened that goblin with my Dark Mark.”

Narcissa’s face turned somber. She stopped in her tracks and turned to Draco. “Draco, you must understand. First of all, you can’t go flashing the Dark Mark at whomever you please. That goblin…he wouldn’t have done much harm had he managed to stray and reveal our secrets to the others. But that confidence you have while bearing that Mark worries me…what will you do when I am not there? Just remember, a mere tattoo will not always be able to persuade others like it did that goblin. Your aunt may not agree with me on this matter, but I know that there will come a time when- when merely the Dark Lord itself will not be enough.” She said the last sentence in a soft whisper, so quietly that only Draco could hear.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “How thick do you think I am? I won’t go showing it to everyone. You showed that pathetic goblin once…what would have been so bad about showing him once more?”

Narcissa sighed heavily. “Draco, there are so many matters that you do not understand. I just- I just do not want you to become reliant on that obscene marking.”

“I don’t rely on anything, nor anyone.” Draco replied shortly.

Shaking her head slightly, Narcissa laughed and said, “Oh, Draco…come now, we must be on our way. Where to first? You really do need some new robes.”

“Actually, I expected to do my shopping alone today.”

Narcissa frowned. “Alone? Whatever for? Really, there is no time to waste, Draco.” She resumed her marching down the road, tutting about the reckless thoughts of modern teenagers.

Draco followed, cursing under his breath.

The strange looks and vicious whispers from the pedestrians hadn’t seemed to die down as they walked on. Draco tried ignoring them, but frustratingly found that the hot stare of the crowd was just as blazing as the heat of the sun, and just as impossible to disregard. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, they reached the pristine and quaint shop known as Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.

The chime of a tiny bell rang through the small shop as Narcissa pushed open the door for Draco. A bustle came from behind a clothing rack before Madam Malkin, small and flustered, appeared from behind the sea of robes.

“Oh, my my. Well, er, hello Mrs. and Mr. Malfoy. How are, ah, you two doing on this lovely day?” Madam Malkin asked tentatively.

“Oh, fine, fine,” Narcissa replied indifferently. “We’re here to get Draco fitted for some new robes. His are far too short.

Madam Malkin smiled widely and clapped her hands. The chalk dust that coated her hands exploded into a puff of smoke, causing her to break out into a fit of coughing. Narcissa and Draco smirked.

“Ah- much better,” Madam Malkin wheezed after her coughs died down. “Well, if you two will follow me, I’m sure we can find something.”

Draco and Narcissa followed Madam Malkin deeper into the store until they reached a rack of male school robes.

“Well let me just take your measurements…” Madam Malkin muttered. She waved her wand towards one of the stationary measuring tapes on a nearby tray. Immediately, the tape sprang to life and began to scurry around Draco’s body, mid-air.

“Ow, bloody-!“ Draco yelled as the end of the measuring trape sharply prodded his right bicep. “What is wrong with this thing?”

“If you’d have lifted your arm…” Madam Malkin said gently. She looked up from her clipboard, where she’d been taking down Draco’s measurements.

“Are you blaming my son for your instrument’s clear incompetence?” Narcissa interjected.

Madam Malkin paled. “Of course not, I was merely-”

“Madam Malkin, instead of this nonsense, just carry on with what we are paying you to do.”

Madam Malkin blushed a deep crimson.“Of course, of course. Now…where were we? Ah, yes. Alright, Draco, why don’t you try this one on?” She drew her wand and summoned a set of forest green robes from the rack. She tossed it to Draco, who pulled the garment over his head.

“A little too large around the hips,” Madam Malkin mumbled. She reached for a pin and began to place it within the folds of the robes, when a familiar chime rang in the distance.

Madam Malkin looked up from Draco’s robes towards the front of the store. “I’ll be back soon Mr. Malfoy, let me just check-”

“Surely you are not leaving my son here without completing your services, Madam Malkin?” Narcissa’s ice-like eyes viciously narrowed at the much smaller woman in front of her.

Madam Malkin clenched her jaw. “Of course not, Mrs. Malfoy. I’ll finish with Draco here.” She returned to Draco and begun to hem his robes, but this time with considerably greater force.

“Draco, after we finish here, I think we ought to visit Flourish and Botts, and possibly the Apothecary after that- maybe a nice cauldron-”

“For the last time, I am not a child, in case you haven’t noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone.”

Madam Malkin chuckled nervously. “"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..."

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but felt a sudden jab in his left forearm. “Watch where you’re sticking that pin, will you!” he hissed. He jerked his hand away from Madam Malkin’s firm grip and strode from the rack over to the nearby mirror. The dark robes went well with his snow-like complexion. He fingered the silky fabric and noted the impeccable stitching; yes, they would do quite nicely. He dropped the robes and looked back up at the mirror, only to see what appeared to be the gaping figures of Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter in the reflection.

Draco spun around and narrowed his eyes. “If you’re wondering what the smell is, Mother,” he called out into the area behind him, “a Mudblood just walked in.”* Satisfaction filled him upon seeing Hermione’s upset expression.

A clash could be heard from behind the rack before Madam Malkin came scurrying forward, a tape measure and wand held in tow. “I don’t think there’s any need for language like that! And I don’t want wands drawn in my shop either!”*

“Yeah, like you’d dare to do magic out of school,” jeered Draco, sneering at Harry and Ron’s outstretched wands. He glanced back at Hermione and noticed her darkened eye. “Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers.”*

Madam Malkin stepped in between the two parties. “That’s quite enough,” she began sharply. She turned her head back towards the clothing rack. “Madam, please!”*

Narcissa walked out from behind the rack to Draco’s side. “Put those away,” she said coolly, eyeing Harry and Ron’s wands. She took a step closer to the three teenagers. “If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do.” *

Harry stepped forward and said defiantly, “Really?” He didn’t break eye contact with Narcissa as he continued on. “Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?” *

Madam Malkin jumped as she gave a high squeal. “Really shouldn’t accuse…wands away, please!”*

Ron and Harry both ignored Madam Malkin. Naricssa cruelly smiled at them before turning to Harry. “"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 contemptuously looked around the surrounding area, his eyes wide with mocking fear. “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!"*

Anger flooded Draco’s veins. Concentrating very hard on the mental image of his fist in Harry’s face, he lunged forward, only to trip on his too long robes. As his ears burned, he could here Ron laughing. Looking up, he looked menacingly at the boys and spat, “Don’t you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!”*

Narcissa stepped beside her son and put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right, Draco. I expect Potter will soon be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius.”*

Harry snarled and raised his wand higher towards them. Hermione latched onto his arm like Narcissa had grabbed onto Draco’s and begged, “Think... you mustn't... you'll be in such trouble..."*

Madam Malkin used the ensuing moment of silence to scurry onto Draco’s left side. Acting as though nothing had happened, she tugged at his left arm. “I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, Dear, let me just..."*

Draco broke his stoic gaze at Harry and wrenched his arm away. “Ouch!” he bellowed. He hid his arm under the sleeve, praying she didn’t see his Dark Mark. "Watch where you're putting your pins, woman!” he hissed. “Mother, I don’t think I want these any more.”* He shot a nasty look towards a stunned Madam Malkin and ripped the robes off and threw them to the ground.

“You’re right, Draco,” Narcissa said. She sneered in Hermione’s direction. “Now I know the kind of scum that shops here…we’d do better at Twilfitt and Tatting’s.”* She venomously looked one last time at Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Madam Malkin before marching passed the racks of robes towards the front door.

Draco followed. As he passed the Trio, he shoved his shoulder violently into Ron’s arm. Ron gasped in pain and tried lunging towards Draco, but Draco had already hurried forward to catch up with Narcissa.

“Oi Malfoy! …bloody coward…”

Draco tried straining his ears, but couldn’t hear anything else over the chimes of the door opening.

“What kept you?” Narcissa asked. She was standing next to the door, a frown on her face.

Draco grinned evilly. “Just taking care of some business. Weasels are such a bother.”

Narcissa cocked an eyebrow but a small smile still crept onto her face. “Alright, where are we off to now?”

“Mother, really. There’s no need for you to accompany me. You can go off to wherever you want to go, and I’ll be at Flourish and Blotts picking up my books. We can meet at Twilfitt and Tatting’s in an hour.”

Narcissa looked apprehensive. “This isn’t a time where we, of all people, should be separated. I didn’t want to worry you-”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You didn’t actually think I didn’t notice all the stares, did you?”

“Well, I didn’t want to make it anymore obvious!”

Draco waved his hand to silence his mother. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, I’m completely able to purchase a few measly books on my own. I don’t need to have every single one of my actions monitored.” Narcissa opened her mouth to interject, but Draco quickly added, “Especially in light of…recent events.” Narcissa closed her gaping mouth, defeated. Draco resisted the urge to smile, because even without her saying anything, he knew he had won.

“You may go by yourself,” Narcissa began sharply. “But remember; in one hour- Twilfitt and Tatting’s. And let Merlin be my witness as I say, if you forget for any reason-”

“Mother, I’ll be there.” He pecked Narcissa lightly on the cheek and started jogging down the gravel path in the opposite direction.

Flourish and Blott’s was quite close to Madam Malkin’s, so Draco found himself at their doorstep in a matter of minutes before entering the store itself. Madam Malkin’s may have been just as large, but it was nowhere near as busy; students covered almost every inch of the carpeted floor. Draco even recognized some of them, but as he expected, noone greeted him. But other than the lack of his usual adoring fans, Draco did not notice anything that had changed in the past year. The musty smell of old paper mingled with dusty broomcupboards and chalky classrooms still filled all four corners of the store, and the rows and rows of bookshelves were still as disorganized as ever, even though it seemed as if everyone knew exactly where everything was. “It’s strange,” Draco thought with a smirk, “how life can seem so normal even though it’s far from it.”

He squinted. The purple robes of the sales assistants were usually easily recognizable, but with the back-to-school crowd, it was impossible to differentiate anyone. Finally, he caught sight of an acne-ridden teen dressed in plum robes talking to a customer that Draco couldn’t identify across the room.

Draco shoved his way through the thick crowd, earning him more than a few dirty looks and mutters. At last, the opposite end of the room came into sight and Draco pushed himself in front of the sales assistant, his back to the costumer who had been receiving the assistant’s help.

“Hello,” Draco drawled. “I’m here to purchase my schoolbooks. So, if you could go fetch these for me…” Draco pulled out his list and slapped it into the sale’s assistant’s hand.

The sales assistant opened his mouth to reply, but a female voice interrupted.

“Excuse me, Malfoy, but I believe I was here first.”

Draco spun around and was faced with a very furious Ginny Weasley in all her red-headed, golden freckled glory. Her amber eyes scanned Draco up and down, filled to the brim with contempt.

Draco smirked. “Baby Weasel. Seen your brother lately? I took care of him quite nicely only a few minutes ago. Pity you weren’t there. I like to take care of my game in pairs.”

“Oh, bugger off. I was here first, so you better get out of my way.” With her arms folded and nostrils flaring, Ginny gave the impression of a very annoyed boar.

The sales assistant, who had been squeaking sporadically as Draco and Ginny argued, peered over Draco’s shoulder. “Ginny, I can find Mr. Malfoy another assistant, just give me a second-”

Ginny narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Charles. I was here first. Malfoy was not. It’s quite simple. Too bad he’s too much of a moron to understand.”

Draco clenched his jaw. Slowly, he turned so he was facing Charles. “Charles, is it?”

“Yes,” he squeaked.

“Charles. Do me and Weasel here a favor. Leave.”

Charles nodded quickly and ran back into the crowd, his purple robes flapping behind him.

“Why you insufferable git!” Ginny hissed viciously. “Even with your loser father being stuck in Azkaban, you still are the same annoying pest you’ve always been.”

Draco ignored the tightening of his stomach and kept his face as cool as ever. “You haven’t learned your lessons either. Still pathetically pining after Potter? Why Weasel, you’re much too feisty for him. I think sniveling Longbottom was a much better catch, don’t you?” A small bubble of triumph grew within him once Ginny blushed and started spluttering several incoherent phrases.

“Neville-Harry-WE’RE-JUST-FRIENDS!” Ginny bellowed finally. Her hands flew up as she furiously stomped her foot onto the dusty carpet. Her lips formed one last menacing pout, and then, she proceeded to march back into the crowd.

Draco watched her flaming red hair melt into the mob of people. “You haven’t bought anything, Weasel! But I suppose that’s how it always is with the Weasel family!” he called. Her face snapped towards him- he could make out each of her freckles against her pale skin. She paused for a few moments and looked coldly into his eyes before whipping her head around and disappearing for good.

Draco stared at her vanishing figure for a few moments; he almost felt… a little disappointed. She was no different than her brothers…they all had the same obnoxious tomato red hair, and the same chicken pox freckles. “Not that it really affected me of course, but still, it might have been a nice change,” thought Draco.

“Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco whipped his head around to see a small female sales assistant dressed in the same plum robes as Charles.

“Mr. Malfoy?” the sales assistant repeated again.

“What? Oh sorry,” Draco said vaguely. His thoughts were still on the Weasley family.

“A sales assistant said you were in need of some help. My name’s Bryony. Do you know what you’re looking for today?”

Draco rummaged in his robes and handed Bryony the list.

“Alright, Mr. Malfoy. If you could follow me…” She began walking towards their right. Draco followed. For some odd reason, he felt like looking back into the crowd one last time, just to check if the Baby Weasel’s tumbling red waves were still visible amid the crowd. But thinking better of it, he kept his gaze forward. Still, he had to admit- Bryony’s locks were just not as interesting as hers.

*= Quote taken directly from:

Rowling, JK. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Canada: Raincoast, 2005. Print.