Chapter 3: Goldilocks at Flourish and Botts
Life at the Burrow was extremely different from life at the Dursleys for Harry. The Dursleys liked everything neat and ordered; the Weasleys' house burst with the strange and unexpected. Harry got a shock the first time he looked in the mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece and it shouted, "Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!" What Harry found the most unusual about life at the Burrow, however, wasn't the talking mirror: It was the fact that everybody there seemed to like him.
Mrs. Weasley fussed over the state of his socks and tried to force him to eat fourth helpings at every meal. Mr. Weasley liked Harry to sit next to him at the dinner table so that he could bombard him with questions about life with Muggles, asking him to explain how things like plugs and the postal service worked.
"Fascinating!" he would say as Harry talked him through using a telephone. "Ingenious, really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic."
Harry heard from Hogwarts one sunny morning about a week after he had arrived at the Burrow. He and Ron went down to breakfast to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Claire, and Ginny already sitting at the kitchen table. The moment Ginny saw Harry, she accidentally knocked her porridge bowl to the floor with a loud clatter. She was doing so well. Claire thought to herself. Ginny dived under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged with her face glowing like the setting sun.
"Smooth." Claire teased. This earned Claire a glare from Ginny.
Pretending he hadn't noticed this, Harry sat down and took the toast Mrs. Weasley offered him.
"Morning, Harry, Ron," Claire greeted them.
"Morning," The boys replied.
"Letters from school," Mrs. Weasley said, passing Claire, Harry, and Ron identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink.
"Oh, great," Claire muttered in disappoint as she took her letter.
"Dumbledore already knows you're here, Harry- doesn't miss a trick, that man. You two've got them,too," Ron added, as Fred and George ambled in, still in their pajamas.
For a few minutes there was silence as they all read their letters. Their letters told them to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross Station on September first. There was also a list of the new books they'd need for the upcoming year.
Second-Year Students Will Require:
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk
Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart
Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart
Claire groaned as she finished reading the list. "You have got to be kidding me! Whoever this new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is must be one of those crazed fans of Gilderoy Lockhart! I don't see what the big deal is about him! I bet you anything he hasn't done a single thing he says he's done in his books!"
"That lot won't come cheap," George said, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive...."
"Well, we'll manage," Mrs. Weasley said, but she looked worried. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."
"I still have my old textbooks besides my Transfiguration book and a few cloaks I outgrew from last year if Ginny wants them, Mrs. Weasley." Claire offered.
Mrs. Weasley smiled in appreciation. "Thank you, Claire, dear,"
"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked Ginny.
Claire nudged Ginny in the shoulder as if to say 'go on it won't kill you to answer the question'. Ginny nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and almost put her elbow in the butter dish if Claire hadn't of moved it. Ginny sent Claire a thankful look for preventing another embarrassing moment. Just then Ron's elder brother Percy walked in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest.
"Morning, all," Percy said briskly. "Lovely day."
He sat down in one of the remaining chairs but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, gray feather duster- at least, that was what Harry thought it was, until he saw that it was breathing.
"Errol!" Claire said, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. "Silly old bird! Finally- he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys."
She handed Errol to Ron who went to put Errol on a perch just inside the back door and tried to make him stand on it. Errol, however, flopped straight off again so Ron laid him on the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic." Claire ripped open Hermione's letter and read it out loud:
"'Dear Claire, Ron, and Harry,
I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out-too late for that Hermione- because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Harry is alright, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, because I think another delivery might finish your one off.
I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course-'"
"How can she be? We're on vacation!" Ron interrupted.
"Shhh! Where was I? Oh, yeah. 'and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley? Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione.'" Claire finished.
"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too," Mrs. Weasley said, starting to clean the table. "What're you all up to today?"
Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were planning to go up the hill to a small paddock the Weasleys owned. It was surrounded by trees that blocked it from view of the village below, meaning that they could practice Quidditch there, as long as they didn't fly too high. They couldn't use real Quidditch balls, which would have been hard to explain if they had escaped and flown away over the village; instead they threw apples for one another to catch. They took turns riding Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand, which was easily the best broom.
Meanwhile, Claire and Ginny hung out in their room. Normally, Claire would be participating in the game, but today she didn't feel like it. Instead, she decided to reply to Hermione's letter. When she finished writing it, she went to go "ask" Percy if he would lend her his owl. By ask, Claire snuck into his room when he left to use the restroom and sent the letter with his owl. She told Hermione in the letter not to reply back so she wouldn't be caught by Percy. Claire was able to get out of his room before he returned.
The next Wednesday, Claire, Harry, and the Weasleys were preparing to go to Diagon Alley. After they ate breakfast, they gathered around the fireplace. Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantlepiece and peered inside.
"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today....Ah well, guest first! After you, Harry dear!"
And she offered him the flowerpot. Harry stared at them all watching him. Claire had a feeling he'd never done this before.
"Mrs. Weasley, I don't think Harry has ever traveled by Floo powder before." Claire said.
"Never?" Mr. Weasley said. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"
"I went on the Underground-" Harry began but was cut off.
"Really?" Mr. Weasley said eagerly. "Were there escapators? How exactly-"
"Not now, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before-"
"He'll be all right, Mum," said Fred. "Harry, watch us first."
He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.
"You must speak clearly, dear," Mrs. Weasley told Harry as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right gate..."
"The right what?" Harry said nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too.
"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly-"
"He'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss," Mr. Weasley said, helping himself to Floo powder, too.
"But, dear, if he got lost, how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?"
"They wouldn't mind," Harry reassured her. "Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney, don't worry about that-"
"Well, all right, but I think it'd be better if you went with another person. Claire, go with Harry after Arthur, ok?" Mrs. Weasley said.
"Sure." Claire said.
When Mr. Weasley disappeared in the flames Claire and Harry walked into the fireplace together. Mrs. Weasley offered the flower pot to them.
"You want me to do it, Harry?" Claire asked.
"No, I can do it." Harry said taking a reasonable amount of Floo powder.
"Keep your elbows tucked in," Ron advised.
"And your eyes shut," Mrs. Weasley said.
"Don't fidget," Ron said. "Or you might fall out of the wrong fireplace-"
"I think he gets it." Claire said. "Just don't panic Harry. You'll do fine. Now, just say the words very clearly, ok?"
Harry took a deep breath and said, "D-Dia-gon Alley," releasing the Floo powder. Before either of them had time to realize that he mispronounced their destination they felt the sensation of being sucked down a giant drain. They seemed to be spinning very fast. They felt sick and dizzy. Finally, they fell, face forward, onto the cold stone floor. Both feeling disorientated, they stood up shakily.
"Next time, I'm doing the speaking." Claire said, brushing the ashes from her jeans.
"I'll take you up on that." Harry said.
He noticed they seemed to be in a dimly-lit wizard's shop- but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list. A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a blood-stained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye.
"What is this place?" Harry questioned.
"Don't know, but it definitely doesn't look like any of the shops at Diagon Alley. This one seems like a Dark Arts shop." Claire said, seeing the evil-looking masks staring down from the walls and the assortment of human bones laying upon the counter.
"Let's get out of here." Harry said, walking towards the door.
"You don't have to tell me twice." Claire said following him.
However, before Harry was half-way to the door, two people appeared on the other side of the glass- and one of them was the very last person Harry wanted to meet when he was lost and covered in soot: Draco Malfoy. Harry spotted a large black cabinet to his left; he grabbed Claire's hand and led her to the cabinet, pulled the doors closed, and left a small crack to peer through. Claire was confused and was about to say something when Harry put his hand over her mouth. She slapped his hand away.
"What is your problem? What's going on?" She whispered harshly to him.
Claire then heard a bell ring and saw Draco Malfoy and a man who could only be Draco's father. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, gray eyes. Mr. Malfoy crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and saying, "Touch nothing, Draco."
Malfoy, who had reached for the glass eye, said, "I thought you were going to buy me a present."
"I said I would buy you a racing broom," said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.
"What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?" said Malfoy, looking sulky and bad-tempered. "Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous...famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead...."
Malfoy bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls.
"....everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick-"
"You have told me this at least a dozen times already," Mr. Malfoy said, with a quelling look at his son. "And I would remind you that it is not-prudent- to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear- ah, Mr. Borgin."
A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face.
"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," Mr. Borgin said in a voice as oily as his hair. "Delighted-and young Master Malfoy, too- charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced-"
"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling," Mr. Malfoy said.
"Selling?" The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin's face.
"You have heard, of course, that the ministry is conducting more raids," Mr. Malfoy said, taking a roll parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I have a few-ah-items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call..."
Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down the list.
"The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?"
Mr. Malfoy's lip curled.
"I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act- no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle- loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it-"
Harry grabbed Claire's arm to keep her from walking out of the cabinet and punching Mr. Malfoy in the face-though Harry wouldn't care if she did, he felt it probably wouldn't be the best idea if they were spotted. Instead, Claire glared at the older Malfoy silently cursing him in her head.
"-and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear-"
"I understand, sir, of course," Mr. Borgin said. "Let me see..."
"Can I have that?" Draco interrupted, pointing at the withered hand on its cushion.
"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" Mr. Borgin said, abandoning Mr. Malfoy's list and scurrying over to Draco. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."
"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," Mr. Malfoy said coldly, and Mr. Borgin said quickly, "No offense, sir no offense meant-"
"Though if his grades don't pick up," Mr. Malfoy said, more coldly still, "that may indeed be all he is fit for-"
"It's not my fault," Draco retorted. "The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger-"
"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam," Mr. Malfoy snapped.
"Ha!" Claire and Harry said under their breaths, pleased to see Draco looking both abashed and angry.
"It's the same all over," Mr. Borgin said, in his oily voice. "Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere-"
"Not with me," Mr. Malfoy said, his long nostrils flaring.
"No, sir, nor with me, sir," Mr. Borgin said, with a deep bow.
"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list," Mr. Malfoy said. "I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today-"
They started to haggle. Claire and Harry watched nervously as Draco drew nearer and nearer towards the cabinet. Draco then saw the cabinet and walked towards it. He stretched out his hand for the handle-
"Done," Mr. Malfoy said at the counter. "Come, Draco-"
Claire breathed out a sigh of relief while Harry wiped his forehead on his sleeve as Draco turned away.
"Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods."
The moment the door had closed, Mr. Borgin dropped his oily manner.
"Good day yourself, Mister Malfoy, and if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your manor..."
Muttering darkly, Mr. Borgin disappeared into a back room. Claire and Harry waited for a minute before slipping out of the cabinet, past the glass cases, and out of the shop door. As they walked out of the creepy shop, they emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the Dark Arts. The one they'd just left, Borgin and Burkes, looked like the largest, but opposite was a nasty window display of shrunken heads and, two doors down, a large cage was alive with gigantic black spiders. Two shabby-looking wizards were watching them from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other. Harry grabbed Claire's hand and started walking away from the shop. Claire noticed up ahead a sign that said Knockturn Alley.
"Oh, that explains it." Claire said.
"What do you mean?" Harry questioned.
"We're in Knockturn Alley. This is where all the Dark wizards hangout." Claire said. "We'd better find our way out of here before-"
"Not lost are you, my dears?" said a voice in Claire's ear, making her jump.
An aged witch stood in front of her, holding a tray of what looked horribly like whole human fingernails. She leered at them, showing mossy teeth. Harry pulled Claire behind him.
"We're fine, thinks." he said. "We're just-"
"HARRY! CLAIRE! What d'yeh two think yer doin' down there?"
Harry's heart leapt. So did the witch; a load of fingernails cascaded down over her feet and one managed to land on Claire's shoe. Claire grimaced before shaking it off her shoe. The witch cursed as the massive form of Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, came striding toward them, beetle-black eyes flashing over his great bristling beard.
"Hagrid!" Harry croaked in relief. "We were lost-Floo powder-"
Hagrid seized Claire and Harry by the scruff of their necks and pulled them away from the witch, knocking the tray right out of her hands. Her shrieks followed them all the way along the twisting alleyway out into bright sunlight. Harry saw a familiar, snow-white marble building in the distance- Gringott's Bank. Hagrid steered them right into Diagon Alley.
"Yer both a mess!" Hagrid said gruffly, brushing soot off Harry so forcefully he nearly knocked him into a barrel of dragon dung outside an apothecary. "Skulkin' around Knockturn Alley, I dunno-dodgy place, Claire, Harry-don' want no one ter see yeh down there-"
"We realized that," Claire said, ducking as Hagrid attempted to brush the soot off her like he did with Harry. "Like Harry told you, we were lost- what were you doing down there, anyway?"
"I was looking' fer a Flesh-Eatin' Slug Repellent," Hagrid growled. "They're ruinin' the school cabbages. Yer not on yer own?"
"No, we came with the Weasleys. I was staying there, but then we got separated." Harry explained. "We need to go and find them."
"By the way how come yeh never wrote back to me?" Hagrid asked Harry.
Harry then explained all about Dobby and the Dursleys.
"Lousy Muggles," Hagrid growled. "If I'd've known-"
"Harry! Claire! Over here!"
Harry and Claire looked up and saw Hermione Granger standing at the top of the white flight steps to Gringotts. She ran down to meet them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her.
"Why are you two covered in ashes? Hello, Hagrid-Oh, it's wonderful to see you three again-Are you two coming into Gringotts?"
"As soon as we find the Weasleys," Harry said.
"Yeh won't have long ter wait," Hagrid said with a grin.
Claire, Harry, and Hermione looked around: Sprinting up the crowded street were Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Mr. Weasley.
"Harry, Claire," Mr. Weasley panted. "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far..."He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic-she's coming-now-"
"Where did you two come out?" Ron asked.
"Knockturn Alley," Hagrid said grimly.
"Excellent!" Fred and George said in unison.
"We've never been allowed in," Ron said enviously.
"I can't imagine why." Claire said sarcastically.
"I should ruddy well think not!" Hagrid growled.
Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.
"Oh, Harry, Claire-oh, my dears- you two could've been anywhere-"
Gasping for breath she brushed off some of the ashes off of Claire and Harry. Hagrid told Mrs. Weasley where he found them and she began to thank him over and over again for finding them safe and sound.
"Well, gotta be off," Hagrid said, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs. Weasley. "See yer both at Hogwarts!" And he strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street.
Mrs. Weasley then hugged Claire and Harry.
"Thank goodness you two are alright!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Well, now that we've found you both we need to start shopping. Arthur dear, why don't you take the boys to the vault to get the money for the books and Ginny, Claire and I will start shopping. I have enough money for Ginny's wand, cauldron, and other supplies as well as Claire's robes. We'll meet in Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks. And Fred, George you two better not try to sneak into Knockturn Alley."
Claire bid Hermione and the boys goodbye as she went with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. The first store they went into was Ollivander's Wand Shop. As Claire walked into the store, she had a flashback to last year when she got her wand.
One year ago.....
"Come, Claire, we need to get your wand." Mrs. Weasley steered her towards Ollivanders Wand Shop.
"What about Ron?" Claire asked.
"Oh, he got Charlie's old wand. We didn't have any extra wands to give to you." Mrs. Weasley replied.
They soon entered the shop. Claire observed the interior of the shop. The walls were adorned with cubby holes. Wand boxes laid within them. There had to be hundreds of thousands of wands in the shop. She walked around the shop waiting for one of the empolyees to come help them. When she turned around, Claire jumped in fright. An older man who looked to be in his seventies, with white hair and pale eyes shining like the moon stared at Claire.
"Oh, Ollivander there you are!" Mrs. Weasley walked over smiling at the old man.
This is Ollivander? Creepy much? Claire thought.
"Molly Weasley, how are you?" Ollivander asked.
"I'm doing quite well, thank you. I'm here to get a wand for Claire." Mrs. Weasley said.
Ollivander nodded. "Very well. Which is your wand arm?" Ollivander started taking out a measuring tape from his pocket.
"My right." Claire said.
Ollivander measured her arm and then went over to one of the cubby holes pulling out a long thin box. He walked over to Claire and opened the box.
"Unicorn hair, 8 inches, core dragon heartstring. Give it a try." He handed the wand to her.
When Claire waved the wand, the window behind her broke. Claire was shocked at what she just did.
"Um, I don't think this is the right wand." Claire said, staring in shock at the broken window.
"No, it's not." Ollivander muttered.
He snatched the wand from her hand then went back to the cubby hole pulling several different boxes this time. The second wand she tried ended up sending several wands and stacks of papers on the floor. Wand after wand seemed to either break or destroy something in the shop. It felt as though several hours had passed.
"Hmmm, in all my years it has never taken this long to find the right wand, Claire Weasley." Ollivander said.
"Um, sir my name is Claire Smith." Claire said correcting him.
Ollivander's seemed to be shocked at her name. Claire was curious as to why he was surprised about who she was.
"I thought you had a daughter Molly." Ollivander said.
"I do. Her name is Ginerva Weasley. Claire here isn't my blood daughter, but she will always be like a daughter to me." Mrs. Weasley said, smiling at Claire.
"So, you are Claire Smith?" Ollivander said shocked looking at Claire.
Claire nodded. Ollivander smiled brightly before disappearing to get another wand box. He came back with a dark blue wand box.
"I'm positive this is the wand. If I had known who you were, then I would've showed you this wand sooner." Ollivander took out the wand.
Claire stared in amazement at the wand. The wand seemed to be an ombre of tan, brown, and black. A vine seemed to wrap around the wand.
"This wand is one of a kind! 2 inches. It's extremely rare with Cypress, Acacia, and Ebony wood. The core is Dragon Heartstring, Unicorn Hair, and Phoenix Feather." He handed the wand to her.
As the wand was placed in her hand, she felt a sudden warmth course through her body. She waved the wand and mint green sparks flew from the tip. Ollivander smiled.
"Yes, this is the one. Now, do take care of this wand. It is very valuable." Ollivander said.
"I will. Thank you, sir." Claire said.
"How much do we owe you?" Mrs. Weasley said, taking out her wallet.
Ollivander shook his head. "Nothing. This wand's on the house. I hope to see you again, Claire Smith. I have a feeling you will accomplish the unimaginable."
Claire snapped out of her flashback. She pulled her wand from her pocket and twirled it around with her fingers. She turned around and she jumped in fright to see Ollivander. Geez, this man just likes to pop up out of nowhere!
"Mrs. Smith good to see again. How's the wand?" Ollivander asked.
Claire showed him the wand.
"I can see you've been taking good care of it." Ollivander said.
"Yes, sir. I clean it every few days." Claire replied.
"Now, what can I do for you?" Ollivander asked turning his attention to Mrs. Weasley.
"My daughter Ginny needs to purchase a wand." Mrs. Weasley said.
"Of course." Ollivander said.
Ollivander left to collect a few boxes. Ginny and Claire walked around the shop looking at all the boxes of wands.
"How long does it take to get your wand?" Ginny asked.
"Well, I guess it depends on the person." Claire said.
"How long did it take to get yours?" Ginny asked.
"Several hours." Claire replied.
"Several hours? Why?" Ginny questioned.
Claire shrugged. "I suppose it was because Ollivander thought I was Claire Weasley and not Claire Smith."
Ginny furrowed her eyebrows in conclusion. "What does your name have anything to do with the wand? I heard the wand chooses the wizard not the other way around. So why does a name effect what wand you get?"
"I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm special." Claire teased.
Ginny scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yea, right."
Claire put her hand to chest and put on a fake hurt expression. "I take offense to that."
Ginny rolled her eyes again.
"I think I've become a bad influence on you." Claire said.
Ollivander then returned with several boxes of wands. The first wand Ollivander gave to Ginny turned out to be Ginny's wand.
"That was extremely lucky of you! I had to try practically every wand in the store to find my wand! You just picked up the first wand and it turns out to be your wand. How come it didn't take you as long?" Claire said, as they left the shop after paying.
"Maybe it's because I'm special." Ginny mocked Claire.
"Yep, now I know I've been a terrible influence on you." Claire said.
They went to a second-hand store and got a cauldron, a several other items Ginny would need for first year. They then stopped by Madam Malkin's to get Claire a few robes since she gave the ones she outgrew to Ginny. Mrs. Weasley then led them to Flourish and Blotts. As they opened the door, they found that the store seemed to be more crowded then usual. People were bumping into them and seemed to be forming a line. Claire furrowed her eyebrows.
"What's going on?" Claire questioned.
Claire's eyes then caught on a poster hanging up on one of the walls. It said: Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing copies of his autobiography "Magical Me" today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M. She frowned then groaned in annoyance.
"Oh, Merlin, please let this just be a bad dream." Claire said.
Ginny seemed to see the sign to and rolled her eyes. Mrs. Weasley saw the sign and seemed to let out a squeal similar to one a teen girl would make if they saw a celebrity. Mrs. Weasley practically dragged Claire and Ginny towards the line of people.
"Now, Claire, Ginny, you two go pick up Lockhart's books for your school and I'll wait in line. Go on." Mrs. Weasley said.
Claire and Ginny went over to the bookshelves that had Lockhart's books. Two girls seemed to be fighting over one of the books, even though the shelves had plenty of copies of that same book. Claire rolled her eyes.
"Hey!" Claire shouted to the girls.
The girls turned their attention to her.
"You know, there's more copies of that book you're both fighting over on the shelf, right?" Claire said.
The two girls blushed in embarrassment before one of the girls went over to the shelf and got one of the books. Then they both left.
"Why'd you stop the fight?" A male voice questioned.
Claire turned around and saw a boy who was about the same age as her. He had short, curly brown hair and brown eyes. He seemed to be upset that Claire had stopped the fighting.
"Why did I- did you not see them? They looked like they were about to kill each other!" Claire exclaimed.
"It least it would've been entertaining!" The boy argued.
"You are sick in the head!" Claire said.
She turned her attention away from him and went over to the shelf with Ginny.
"I'm not done talking to you!" The boy said.
Claire whipped around fire in her brown eyes. "Listen, here, whatever your name is, how about you stick that wand up your a-"
"Claire, there you are!" Claire directed her attention to the voice.
Hermione, Ron, and Harry were coming towards her and Ginny. Her friends seemed to notice the stare down between Claire and the unfamiliar boy.
"Is there a problem?" Ron said, glaring at the boy.
"No. I was just leaving." The boy then turned and left.
They stared at his retreating back.
"I've never seen him around before." Harry said.
"I don't think he goes to Hogwarts." Ron said.
"Who was that?" Ginny questioned.
"I don't know and I don't care. All I know is he is a complete arse." Claire said, picking out the books Ginny and her needed for this year.
"Claire!" Hermione scolded.
"What happened?" Ron said, a hint of protectiveness over his friend/sister coming through his voice.
"Your mom sent Ginny and I over here to pick up Lockhart's books for school and a pair of girls were fighting over his book. I yelled at them and told them to stop fighting because there were other copies on the shelves and they stopped fighting. Then that boy went off on me for stopping their fight. I told him that if I didn't stop them they could've ended up killing each other and he said at least it would've been 'entertaining'." Claire explained.
Hermione gasped. "What sick person would enjoy watching people fight to the death?"
"Apparently that boy." Claire said.
"That's pretty crazy that those girls were fighting over a book. However, I bet you would fight over a book, Hermione." Ron said.
Hermione glared at him while Claire smacked him upside the head.
"Anyway, what do you have left to get for the term?" Harry asked, trying to take the attention away from Ron's comment.
"Just textbooks." Ginny said.
"That's all we need to." Ron said.
They began to grab the books they needed for term.
"Ginny? Could I put some of these books in your cauldron?" Claire asked.
"Sure." Ginny said.
When they finished, they tried to find Mrs. Weasley in the line.
"Oh, did you hear? Gilderoy Lockhart's signing books!" Hermione said, a big smile appearing on her face.
"No, not you too!" Claire groaned. "You have the Lockhart Disease!"
"The Lockhart Disease?" Hermione questioned. "There's no such thing."
"Yes, there is. Lockhart Disease effects millions of girl witches and maybe even some boy wizards. It's when they have an unhealthy obsession with that egotistical, fraudulent, self-centered man." Claire said.
"I take it that you don't like Lockhart." Harry said.
"No, I absolutely loathe him. Trust me, there's a difference." Claire said.
"How can you not like Gilderoy?" Hermione questioned in disbelief.
"How can I like him?" Claire countered.
"Well, think of all the things he says he's done in his books." Hermione said.
"Exactly, the things he says he's done. Just because he wrote in a book doesn't make it true. For all we know he could've a obliviated the real wizard who did all those things after they told him their stories. Something about him just doesn't seem right." Claire said.
"There's mom." Ginny said.
They snuck up to the part of the line where the rest of the Weasley's and Hermione's parents were standing. Mrs. Weasley spotted them.
"Oh, there you are, good," Mrs. Weasley said. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a minute...."
"I can hardly contain my excitement." Claire muttered sarcastically, causing Hermione to glare at her and Ginny, Fred, George, Ron, and Harry to snicker.
Claire then saw that Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view. Speaking of the devil. Claire thought. He sat himself 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.
A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around 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," Ron said, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.
"Don't be so hard on him, Ron. I'd act the same way if I had to take photos of that horrible man." Claire said.
Gilderoy Lockhart had heard her. He looked up. He seemed to almost be surprised by Claire. Why is he looking at me like that? She thought. His eyes then spotted Harry. He stared and then leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Harry Potter?"
The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Harry's face burned as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting smoke over the Weasleys, Claire, and Hermione.
"Nice big smile," Lockhart said, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."
When he finally let go go Harry's hand, Harry could hardly feel his fingers. He tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, Claire, and Hermione, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side.
"Ladies and Gentleman," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography-which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge-" The crowd applauded again. "He had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron and Claire seemed to be in between shock and anger over the announcement that Lockhart was their new professor.
"You alright?" Harry asked Claire.
"No, who the heck thought he'd be a good teacher? I can already feel my stress level increasing right now with him as our teacher! I'd prefer Snape over Goldilocks!" Claire exclaimed.
Harry rolled his eyes at her. He then turned to Ginny. "You can have these," He tipped the books into the cauldron. "I'll buy my own-"
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice behind Harry. He knew instantly who it was. He straightened up and found himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer.
"Famous Harry Potter," Malfoy said. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."
"Leave him alone, Malfoy. He obviously didn't want all of that!" Claire said, glaring at Malfoy.
"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Malfoy drawled. This seemed to be the last straw for Claire.
"Listen here, Malfoy, how about you do everyone a favor and go-"
"Oh, it's you," Ron said as him and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart's books. He looked at Malfoy as if he was something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"
"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," Malfoy retorted. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."
This made Ron and Claire angry. Ron dropped his books into the Ginny's cauldron and him and Claire started toward Malfoy, but Harry grabbed Claire by the arm and Ginny and Hermione grabbed the back of Ron's jacket.
"Ron! Claire!" Mr. Weasley said, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you two doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."
"Well, well, well-Arthur Weasley."
It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way.
"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said, nodding coldly.
"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," Mr. Malfoy said. "All those raids...I hope they're paying you overtime?"
He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.
"Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "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 darkly.
"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy." he said.
"Clearly," Mr. Malfoy said, 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 Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spell books came thundering down all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or 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-
"Break it up, there, gents, break it up-" Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it to her, his eyes glittering in malice.
"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.
"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," Hagrid said, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that- no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter-bad blood, that's what it is-come on now-let's get outta here."
The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them from leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seems to think better of it. They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs. Weasley beside herself with fury.
"A fine example to set for your children..... brawling in public...what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought-"
"He was pleased," Fred said. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report-said it was all publicity-"
They soon arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. Claire, Ron, and Harry said goodbye to the Hermione and her parents and the Grangers left the pub for the Muggle street on the other side; Mr. Weasley started to ask them how bus stops worked, but stopped quickly at the look on Mrs. Weasley's face.
Harry and Claire were the last to use the Floo powder. They stepped into the fireplace. Harry was about to grab some of the Floo powder when Claire smacked his hand away.
"You are not doing it this time. I don't feel like visiting that woman with the fingernails again." Claire said.
"Right, go on then." Harry said.
Claire grabbed some of the Floo powder and then said loudly and clearly, "THE BURROW!" The familiar sensation of twists and turns occurred and they soon both found themselves falling out of the Weasleys' fireplace. They both stood up. Claire brushed herself off.
"Now, that's how you Floo." Claire said.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Doctor Who only what you don't recognize (backstories, original characters/plots). I also do not own the songs. All rights go to their original artists.