with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart
Fred, who had finished his own list, peered over at Harry's.
"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" he said. "The new
Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan - bet it's a
witch."
At this point, Fred caught his mother's eye and quickly busied himself
with the marmalade.
"That lot won't come cheap," said George, with a quick look at his
parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive ......
"Well, we'll manage," said Mrs. Weasley, but she looked worried. "I
expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."
"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked Ginny.
She nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and put her
elbow in the butter dish. Fortunately no one saw this except Harry,
because just then Ron's elder brother Percy walked in. He was
already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater
vest.
"Morning, all," said Percy briskly. "Lovely day."
He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost
immediately, pulling from underneath him a moulting, gray feather
duster - at least, that was what Harry thought it was, until he saw that
it was breathing.
* 44
39
"Errol!" said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a
letter from under its wing. "Finally - he's got Hermione's answer. I
wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the
Dursleys."
He carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to
stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so Ron lay him on
the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic." Then he ripped
open Hermione's letter and read it out loud:
"'Dear Ron, and Harry if you're there,
"'I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that
you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would
get Harry into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Harry is all
right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be bet
ter 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?" said Ron
in horror. "We're on vacation! - 'and we're going to London next
Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diago n Alley?
"'Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione.
"'
"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too,"
said Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear 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.
* 4$
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;
40
Ron's old Shooting Star was often outstripped by passing butterflies.
Five minutes later they were marching up the hill, broomsticks over
their shoulders. They had asked Percy if he wanted to join them, but
he had said he was busy. Harry had only seen Percy at mealtimes so
far; he stayed shut in his room the rest of the time.
"Wish I knew what he was up to," said Fred, frowning. "He's not
himself. His exam results came the day before you did; twelve
O.WL.s and he hardly gloated at all."
"Ordinary Wizarding Levels," George explained, seeing Harry's
puzzled look. "Bill got twelve, too. If we're not careful, we'll have
another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame."
Bill was the oldest Weasley brother. He and the next brother, Charlie,
had already left Hogwarts. Harry had never met either of them, but
knew that Charlie was in Romania studying dragons and Bill in Egypt
working for the wizard's bank, Gringotts.
"Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this
year," said George after a while. "Five sets of Lockhart books! And
Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything ......
Harry said nothing. He felt a bit awkward. Stored in an underground
vault at Gringotts in London was a small fortune that his parents had
left him. Of course, it was only in the wizarding world that he had
money; you couldn't use Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts
46
in Muggle shops. He had never mentioned his Gringotts bank account
to the Dursleys; he didn't think their horror of anything connected with
magic would stretch to a large pile of gold.
Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a
quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats
and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and
peered inside.
"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some
more today... Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear!"
41
And she offered him the flowerpot.
Harry stared at them all watching him.
"W-what am I supposed to do?" he stammered.
"He's never traveled by Floo powder," said Ron suddenly. "Sorry,
Harry, I forgot."
"Never?" said Mr. Weasley. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to
buy your school things last year?"
"I went on the Underground -"
"Really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "Were there escapators? How
exactly -"
"Not now, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "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.
* 41
"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
grate ......
"The right what?" said Harry 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," said Mr. Weasley, helping himself to
42
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 ... you go after Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now,
when you get into the fire, say where you're going
"And keep your elbows tucked in," Ron advised.
"And your eyes shut," said Mrs. Weasley. "The soot -"
"Don't fidget," said Ron. "Or you might well fall out of the wrong
fireplace -"
"But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and
George."
Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Harry took a pinch of Floo powder
and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered
the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; the fire felt like a
warm breeze; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot
of hot ash.
"D-Dia-gon Alley," he coughed.
48
It felt as though he was being sucked down a giant drain. He seemed
to be spinning very fast - the roaring in his ears was deafening -he
tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames made him
feel sick - something hard knocked his elbow and he tucked it in
tightly, still spinning and spinning - now it felt as though cold hands
were slapping his face - squinting through his glasses he saw a blurred
stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond - his
bacon sandwiches were churning inside him - he closed his eyes again
wishing it would stop, and then
He fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the bridge of his glasses
43
snap.
Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, he got gingerly to his feet, holding
his broken glasses up to his eyes. He was -,cite alone, but where he
was, he had no idea. All he could tell was that he was standing in the
stone fireplace of what looked like a large, 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 bloodstained
pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down
from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter,
and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the
dark, narrow street Harry could see through the dusty shop window
was definitely not Diagon Alley.
The sooner he got out of here, the better. Nose still stinging where it
had hit the hearth, Harry made his way swiftly and silently toward the
door, but before he'd got halfway toward it, two people appeared on
the other side of the glass - and one of them was the
49
very last person Harry wanted to meet when he was lost, covered in
soot, and wearing broken glasses: Draco Malfoy.
Harry looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet to his
left; he shot inside it and pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack
to peer through. Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Malfoy stepped into
the shop.
The man who followed 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,
44
looking sulky and bad-tempered. "Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two
T