Chereads / Harry Potter The Long Lost Malfoy / Chapter 39 - Shattered Calm

Chapter 39 - Shattered Calm

"Is there anywhere else that you would like to go while we're here on the Alley, Henry?"

Harry glanced around curiously as they came out of The Right Fit, with the huge collection of casual robes, in red and black and blue, that Mrs. Malfoy had bought shrunken and tucked in her pocket. He hadn't seen much of this part of Diagon Alley, which was a sort of back street behind Gringotts. There were bookshops and broom shops and shops with magical toys in them.

"Can we just sort of wander around and look?"

"Of course." Mrs. Malfoy smiled at him again. "I am more than happy to do that with my son." She held out her hand.

"You don't need to do that," Harry muttered, even as he took it. "I'm thirteen, not three."

"I was not there when you were three."

Harry winced a little, and fell silent as they walked past a few shops that didn't look interesting, selling what seemed to be more clothes and shoes and food that looked like it would melt if Harry breathed on it wrong. They halted in front of one of the bookshops, and Mrs. Malfoy glanced at him curiously.

Harry took a deep breath and faced her. "It wasn't your fault."

"What wasn't?"

"Not being there when I was three."

Mrs. Malfoy slowly shook her head. For a second, to Harry's horror, tears glittered in her eyes, but luckily, they didn't actually fall. "We should have had stronger wards. We should have had bracelets like the one you're wearing now." She nodded towards the silver bracelet Harry had almost forgotten about. It really was that light. "We should have known Sirius would be a security risk and we couldn't invite him over just because he was family. I'm so sorry, Henry."

Harry cleared his throat. "Still not your fault."

"It was. And you will be safe, now, darling. I will do everything in the world to keep you safe."

Harry looked away with his ears burning. He thought that at least a few people on the street were gaping at them, although how they knew the difference between Draco and the boy who used to be Harry Potter walking around with a Malfoy he wasn't certain. "I'd like to go in here," he said, and ducked into the bookshop.

Anything to get away from the sight of his mother nearly crying.

.....

The bookshop actually did turn out to be a worthwhile distraction, though. Harry found all sorts of wizarding children's books there that he'd never realized existed (and Mrs. Malfoy said something about him not growing up reading them or hearing them read to him, which meant she was willing to buy him as many as he wanted). There were also books on the history of Quidditch a lot longer than Quidditch Through the Ages, and a novel about a daring and brave Quidditch player who solved mysteries that looked interesting. And a book on famous Parselmouths that Mrs. Malfoy bought before Harry could even ask for it.

He did hope that the book wasn't all about Salazar Slytherin and Voldemort, but from the length of it, it couldn't be. And Harry got the chance to flip through it as they stood in the queue, and saw, to his satisfaction, lots of different names in the table of contents.

Even if he couldn't pronounce all of them.

They stepped outside the bookshop and Mrs. Malfoy shrank the books, too, and asked Harry if he wanted an ice. Harry nodded at once, but then something caught his eye, and he turned his head.

A black dog crouched on the other side of the alley, watching him.

Harry swallowed and deliberately turned away from the dog. He wasn't going to call Mrs. Malfoy's attention to it. So far, it seemed no one had mistaken Black for a Grim, anyway. People just went on about their business and ignored the half-starving dog huddled on the ground.

Harry wondered for a fleeting instant if he should do something about that—Black shouldn't be starving—but then he put the notion away. It was really too much to ask that he take care of the man who'd kidnapped him.

If Mr. Malfoy hadn't told Mrs. Malfoy about the Grim, he would have tried to buy something at one of the food shops and drop scraps for the dog. But Harry had been there when he warned her.

"Let's go have an ice," he said, when he noticed Mrs. Malfoy's eyes trained on him, probably noticing his distraction.

She nodded to him and walked with him up the alley in the direction of Florean Fortescue's. Harry trotted along at her side and held her hand, which for once he didn't mind. Even though he was sure that even Sirius Black wouldn't be mad enough to snatch him off Diagon Alley in broad daylight.

Then there came a rush from behind him, and apparently he was wrong about that.

People screamed as Black snatched Harry away from Mrs. Malfoy, his arms wrapping around Harry's chest. Harry gasped and caught his breath. Black's hold was so tight it was hurting him. Black spun away as if trying to hide from the curses or the Dementors that might be coming after him.

But a strange bumping sensation went through Harry, and Black snarled in a voice that was almost a dog's voice, "What's the hold-up?"

The bracelet. Mrs. Malfoy had said that no one could Apparate with Harry while he was wearing it unless they wore the complementary one. Black must have tried to Apparate with him, and been stopped by the bracelet.

Harry squirmed, got his legs under him, and kicked backwards as hard as he could. Black let out a loud pained sound and dropped him. Harry rolled to his feet and drew his wand. He didn't care if he got in trouble for using magic during the summer, he wasn't going to let Black take off with him again.

Sympathy only went so far.

"Sirius Black."

Harry shivered. The air around them actually got colder and darker, at least he thought it did, and he turned around. He wondered if someone had already called for the Dementors and they were filling the alley.

But no, it was Mrs. Malfoy, standing with her wand drawn and—

Harry recoiled. There was a look of almost insane hatred in her eyes. Her blonde hair, as fair as his own, was floating around her from the power of the magic that was flaring out from her wand.

....

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