693Chapter 15: Family Feud
The summer passed abysmally slowly, though it had started out looking up. Draco had hoped, after an invitation from Ron on the train, that he would be invited to the Weasley's house for a few days. Then he planned to talk to Harry all summer by owl, flush out his lessons in the Dark Arts with his father, and maybe visit Hermione as well. That last one he wasn't sure about, since he was fairly certain his mother would faint at the thought of her son in a muggle home.
It turned out she didn't faint, she grounded him for the mere suggestion. Not that he had anywhere to go. His father had taken one look at the invitation to visit the Weasley's and turned purple with anger. After spouting some nonsense about Arthur Weasley trying to corrupt his son, he had sworn he would have the man's job and popped off to the Ministry. That was the start of a week of dinner lectures on blood traitors and their place in the wizarding world. The Weasley's owls were banned from the manner and his eagle owl was forbidden from going to the Burrow. Narcissa upped the punishment by forbidding communication with Hermione as well.
Cut off from his friends, there was little for Draco to focus on but Lucius' training. The lessons in the Dark Arts proceeded as planned, at least. Even better as what had taken them all summer the first time took only a week with Draco's 'abilities'. His father was so pleased he only forbade Draco from being friends with Ron once and Hermione twice. The only person he was allowed to talk to was Harry, but unfortunately Harry didn't write either. Draco did, over and over, but without a single response. Even Harry's birthday gift wasn't commented on and Draco was certain he'd like color changing scarf he'd sent.
As the days turned into weeks, then months, even the memory of Harry's warm hug began to fade. Perhaps, Draco finally had to admit, Harry hadn't forgiven him after all. Since he couldn't ask Ron or Hermione if they'd heard from him, he didn't actually know if Harry was giving him the cold shoulder again, or if it was something else. If he wasn't, what was possibly keeping them from talking?
Eventually, summer passed and Draco's second year of Hogwarts was only a week away. That fact certainly didn't stop him from being depressed, but seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione was something to look forward to. It would beuntil Draco let Ron's sister be possessed by a diary.
This year, his father took him to Diagon Alley for his things, though he had a secondary reason as well. The Ministry of Magic had been making raids on wizarding households and confiscating illegal magical objects, not to mention arresting the wizards using illegal magic to create them. Being an ancient Dark family that had lived in the same manor house for generations, the Malfoys had plenty of objects they didn't wish to be caught with. That's why their first stop after the robe fitting at Madame Malkins was in Knockturn Alley to visit Borgin and Burkes.
Leading the way, Draco's hand had barely touched the dootknob when Harry burst out looking panicked and filthy. Even his glasses were broken.
"Draco!" Harry said, grasping the blonde's pale hand and covering it with soot. "Please, I've no idea where I am. We were trying to Floo to Diagon Alley and-
"Draco," the cool voice of Lucius Malfoy interrupted, "introduce me to your friend."
Glancing uncertainly up at his father, Draco nevertheless did as he was told. "Harry, this is my father, Lucius Malfoy. Father, this is Harry Potter, fellow first year in Gryffindor, and my friend."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," Lucius said coldly, extending his hand to Harry. Either Draco's face reflected his apprehension or Harry could sense there was nothing approving in his father because he hesitated for a long moment before taking the offered hand.
"Father," Draco blurted before any more conversation could take place, "May I accompany Harry until he finds his guardians? I will be most pleased to meet you at Flourish and Blotts to obtain my school books."
Lucius eyed Harry in silence, leaving Draco even more anxious. Harry didn't look any more comfortable for the scrutiny.
"That is acceptable," he eventually drawled, "I have business and it will be easier without you under foot. Be there in an hour."
"Thank you, father," Draco said politely, then grasped Harry's hand and dragged him past a witch trying to sell fresh hag toenails.
"What are you doing down here?" the blonde hissed at his friend. "And why haven't I heard from you all bloody summer? Are you mad at me again? I thought-" Draco's breath hitched. "Nevermind. Answer the question."
"I was lost – Floo powder – I was with the Weasley's and I've never used Floo powder before. Are we very far from Diagon Alley? I'm supposed to meet Hermione there and the Weasley's will be worried. Mrs. Weasley especially - Draco? Why did we stop?"
Draco had come to a dead stop at the last turn before Knockturn Alley excited out onto Diagon Alley, his hand still clamped down on Harry's arm.
"You're here with Weasley and Granger," Draco said stiffly, "and I haven't heard from you all summer." Releasing his grip, he pointed down the Alley. "Diagon Alley is that way. I should go back to my father."
"No," it was Harry's turn to grab his arm and he held on hard despite Draco making no move to pull away. "It's not like that. There was this stupid house elf that's been trying to keep me from going back to Hogwarts. He stole all my mail, kept any of my letters from reaching you, all so I'd think I didn't have any friends and would stay home. Then he blew up a cake and- God, Draco it was awful. I thought you hated me."
"Me?" Draco was flushed with relief; Harry didn't hate him! "I could never-"
"HARRY! DRACO! What d'yeh think yer doin' down there?"
Both Harry and Draco jumped. So did a wizard passing by with a cloak pulled low over his head. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, came striding toward them, beetle-black eyes flashing over his great bristling beard.
"H-Hagrid!" Harry stammered. "I was lost and I found Draco and he's-"
Hagrid seized Harry by the scruff of the neck with one hand and Draco by the other. Effortlessly he pulled them away and down the last few yards into bright sunlight. There, in the distance, was the snow-white marble of Gringotts Bank.
"Yer a mess!" said Hagrid gruffly, brushing soot of Harry so forcefully he nearly knocked him into a barrel of dragon dung outside an apothecary. "Skulkin' around Knockturn Alley, I dunno dodgy place, Harry – don' want no one ter see yeh down there. What'd yeh take him fer, Draco? I know yer family ain't the best sort, but yeh gotta know it ain't no place fer the likes of Harry Potter."
Turning red, Draco drew himself regally. Before he could say anything, Harry jumped to his rescue.
"I realize that," Harry ducked as Hagrid made to brush him off again. "I told you, I was lost and Draco is taking me to Flourish and Blots so I can find the Weasleys. What were you doing down there, anyway?"
"I was lookin' fer a Flesh-Eatin' Slug Repellent," growled Hagrid. "They're ruinin' the school cabbages."
"We need to find the Weasleys," Draco interrupted, setting off down the street. "They'll be worried about Harry."
"How come yeh never wrote back ter me?" said Hagrid as Harry and Draco jogged alongside him (they had to take three steps to ever stride of Hagrid's enormous boots). Harry explained again about the House Elf and added more about the Dursleys. It was a relief to Draco to know that he hadn't been the only one cut off from Harry, but it was horrid to hear how they were treating the Boy Who Lived. Not because of what he'd done, but because he was a child and they were supposed to take care of him, not starve him.
"Lousy Muggles," growled Hagrid. "If I'd've known-"
"Harry! Draco! Over here!"
Before Draco had a chance to throw in his own threats on the Dursley's wellbeing, they were interrupted by Hermione standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. She ran down to meet them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her.
"What happened to your glasses? Hello, Hagrid – Oh it's wonderful to see you three again – Are you coming into Gringotts?"
"As soon as we've found the Weasleys," said Harry.
"Yeh won't have long ter wait," Hagrid said with a grin.
Harry and Hermione looked around and found Draco pointing down the street. Sprinting up through the crowds of wizards and witches were Ron, Fred, George, Percy and Mr. Weasley.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley panted. "We hoped you'd only gone one great too far." He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic- she's coming now –"
"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.
"Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid and Draco together.
"Excellent," said Fred and George together.
"We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously.
"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid.
"Draco found me there," Harry said, "He was taking me to find you all when Hagrid found us."
"Did he now," Mr. Weasley said, staring at Draco curiously as Mrs. Weasley came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.
"Oh, Harry – oh, my dear – you could have been anywhere –" Gasping for breath, she pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping off the soot Hagrid hadn't managed to beat away. Though still watching Draco, Mr. Weasley took Harry's glasses, gave them a tap of his wand, and returned them good as new.
"Well, gotta be off," said Hagrid, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs. Weasley ("Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Hagrid!"). "See yer at Hogwarts!" And he strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street.
"Where'd you find Harry, Draco?" Hermione asked.
"Borgin and Burkes," he replied. "My father and I were there on an errand."
"Buying something?" Mr. Weasley asked too quickly and Draco gave him a sharp look. He was not in the least fooled by the question.
"No, we have some possessions we no longer require the use of and wish to sell."
The grim satisfaction on Mr. Weasley's face made Draco seethe with anger. After all, it was his doing that the raids had been stepped up and they had to let go of many family heirlooms.
"Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley sharply. "That is quite enough. We'll discuss this later."
Harry and Hermione were glancing back and forth between Draco, his father, and Ron. The later looked absolutely mortified while Fred and George looked as embarrassed as they'd ever seen them. None of them were looking at Draco. Luckily, they were all distracted by the sight of Hermione's parents, who were standing nervously at the counter that ran along the great marble hall, waiting for Hermione to introduce them.
"But you're Muggles!" said Mr. Weasley delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!" He pointed excitedly at the tenpound notes in Mr. Granger's hand.
"Meet you back here," Ron said to Hermione and Draco as the Weasleys and Harry were led off to their underground vaults by another Gringotts goblin.
"What was that all about?" Hermione asked as soon as they were out of sight.
Draco sighed.
"The Malfoys and the Weasleys have a long standing tradition of hating each other. At least, until this generation. My father hates Ron's father and keeps trying to get him fired. Ron's father hates my father and keeps trying to get him arrested. Thus why I was banned from writing him over the summer."
"Were you banned from writing me, too?" she asked accusingly.
"Actually, yes," Draco gave her an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, really, but my mother had a fit when she found out we were friends."
She gave him a look filled with pity.
"So if your mother or father found out you went with Harry to meet me and Ron…"
"Yeah, it would not be pleasant."
Once Harry and the Weasleys were back from their vaults, they all headed outside. On the marble steps, they decided to separate. Percy muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Fred and George spotted Lee Jordan. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were going to a secondhand robe shop. Mr. Weasley was insisting on taking the Grangers off to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink.
"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks," said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Ginny. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!" she shouted at the twins' retreating backs.
Draco winced, but followed Harry, Ron and Hermione as they strolled off along the winding, cobbled street.
"You alright, Draco?" Ron asked as Harry stopped and bought the lot of them large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams.
"My dad is going to be meeting me at Flourish and Blotts in about an hour," he confessed, "Our parents are going to…"
"Fight," Ron sighed.
Briefly, Draco's eyes met Harry's and he knew the other boy saw that more than that was to happen. Ginny, the Diary, Tom Riddle, and the Chamber of Secrets. Merlin, this year was going to be a bad one.
"Yeah," he said lamely, "Looks like I won't be writing you next summer either."
An hour later, they made their way to Flourish and Blotts. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:
GILDEROY LOCKHART
will be signing copies of his autobiography
MAGICAL ME
today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.
"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"
Draco rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please ladies…Don't push, there…mind the books, now…"
They squeezed inside and found a long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Mr. and Mrs. Granger.
"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Weasley just as Draco was starting to think he should make himself scarce. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair, which was only making him more uncomfortable. "We'll be able to see him in a minute…"
Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair. He looked as much a git as Draco remembered and he let out yet another sigh.
"What?" Harry whispered.
"I hate him," Draco whispered back, getting a dirty look from Hermione in the process.
A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around Lockhart taking photographs with a large, black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.
"Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the Daily Prophet –"
"Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.
Draco winced. Gilderoy Lockhart had heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron, Draco, and then he saw Harry. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "I can't be Harry Potter?"
Unable to help himself, Draco snickered and this time got a dirty look from Mrs. Weasley. The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. Draco made no move to stop it, smirking at his former mate as the crowd burst into applause. Harry's face burned as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys.
"Smile, Harry!" Draco called, now getting a sour look from Harry, but it was pretty worth it. This was the perfect revenge for not having heard from him all summer. Ron was trying not to laugh, too, so it was Donnelly worth it.
Lockhart was muttering in Potter's ear when a steely hand clamped down on Draco's shoulder. The boy winced, looking up into the scowling face of his father.
"What did your mother and I tell you about associating with these…these people?" Lucius ground out through clenched teeth. Draco had honestly never seen the man so angry and felt himself go pale.
"F-Father, I was just with Harry, I'm not-"
"They are not your friends, do you hear me?" Lucius hissed, keeping his voice down, but not enough that Hermione and the Weasleys nearby couldn't hear. "Blood traitors and mudbloods, honestly Draco, what are you thinking? I'm of half a mind to send you to Durmstrang."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron turn red and felt his own humiliation rising. He didn't know what to say, though, or do. This was his father, not Crabbe who he could snipe at and bully.
"Ron!" called Mr. Weasley as he struggled over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."
"Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley," Lucius drawled, turning with a sneer already on his face.
"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.
"Busy time at the ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids…I hope they're paying you overtime?" He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. "Obviously not. Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"
Mr. Weasley flushed darker than Ron and Draco backed up quickly into Harry, who had just joined them with a stack of brand new Lockhart books. "I'm sorry," Draco whispered desperately to Ron, but he wasn't paying any attention.
"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," Mr. Weasley said.
"Clearly," said Lucius, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley…and I thought your family could sink no lower."
There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Draco's father, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred; a quick, "Sorry Draco," from George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please – please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all the rest, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up –"
As Draco knew he would, Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant, he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Lucius apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Draco's father had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice. This time, Draco saw the way the book bulged, saw a bit of black leather sticking out of the cover. Riddle's Diary; Voldemort's Horcrux. His stomach flipped and for once he wished he was a werewolf again so these nervous fits would stop.
"Here, girl – take your book – it's the best your father can give you –" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.
With a last glance at his friends and an earnest apology, Draco rushed out after his father. Hopefully he wasn't about to be sent to Durmstrang.