housand 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," said Mr.
Malfoy, 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."
50
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," said Mr. Borgin 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," said Mr. Malfoy.
"Selling?" The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin's face.
"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more
raids," said Mr. Malfoy, taking a roll of 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.
45
"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 fleabitten,
Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it
Harry felt a hot surge of anger.
"- and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear -"
"I understand, sir, of course," said Mr. Borgin. "Let me see. . ."
"Can I have that?" interrupted Draco, pointing at the withered hand on
its cushion.
51
"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" said Mr. Borgin, 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," said Mr. Malfoy coldly, and Mr. Borgin said quickly, "No
offense, sir, no offense meant -"
"Though if his grades don't pick up," said Mr. Malfoy, more coldly still,
"that may indeed be all he is fit for -"
"It's not my fault," retorted Draco. "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," snapped Mr. Malfoy.
"Ha!" said Harry under his breath, pleased to see Draco looking both
abashed and angry.
"It's the same all over," said Mr. Borgin, in his oily voice. "Wizard
blood is counting for less everywhere -"
"Not with me," said Mr. Malfoy, his long nostrils flaring.
46
"No, sir, nor with me, sir," said Mr. Borgin, with a deep bow.
"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list," said Mr. Malfoy
shortly. "I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important
business elsewhere today -"
They started to haggle. Harry watched nervously as Draco drew
nearer and nearer to his hiding place, examining the objects for sale.
Draco paused to examine a long coil of hangman's rope and to read,
smirking, the card propped on a magnificent necklace of opals,
Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed - Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle
Owners to Date.
* 52
Draco turned away and saw the cabinet right in front of him. He
walked forward - he stretched out his hand for the handle
"Done," said Mr. Malfoy at the counter. "Come, Draco -"
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. Harry
waited for a minute in case he came back, then, quietly as he could,
slipped out of the cabinet, past the glass cases, and out of the shop
door.
Clutching his broken glasses to his face, Harry stared around. He had
emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of
shops devoted to the Dark Arts. The one he'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
47
watching him from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other.
Feeling jumpy, Harry set off, trying to hold his glasses on straight and
hoping against hope he'd be able to find a way out of here.
An old wooden street sign hanging over a shop selling poisonous
candles told him he was in Knockturn Alley. This didn't help, as Harry
had never heard of such a place. He supposed he hadn't spoken
clearly enough through his mouthful of ashes
back in the Weasleys' fire. Trying to stay calm, he wondered what to
do.
"Not lost are you, my dear?" said a voice in his ear, making him jump.
An aged witch stood in front of him, holding a tray of what looked
horribly like whole human fingernails. She leered at him, showing
mossy teeth. Harry backed away.
"I'm fine, thanks," he said. "I'm just -"
"HARRY! What d'yeh think yer doin' down there?"
Harry's heart leapt. So did the witch; a load of fingernails cascaded
down over her feet and she 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. "I was lost - Floo powder -"
Hagrid seized Harry by the scruff of the neck and pulled him 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 - Gringotts Bank. Hagrid had steered him right into Diagon
Alley.
"Yer a mess!" said Hagrid 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,
Harry - don' want no one ter see yeh down there -"
48
"I realized that," said Harry, ducking as Hagrid made to brush him off
again. "I told you, I was lost - what were you doing down there,
anyway?"
* 54
"I was lookin' fer a Flesh-Eatin' Slug Repellent," growled Hagrid.
"They're ruinin' the school cabbages. Yer not on yer own?"
"I'm staying with the Weasleys but we got separated," Harry explained.
"I've got to go and find them . . . ."
They set off together down the street.
"How come yeh never wrote back ter me?" said Hagrid as Harry
jogged alongside him (he had to take three steps to every stride of
Hagrid's enormous boots). Harry explained all about Dobby and the
Dursleys.
"Lousy Muggles," growled Hagrid. "If I'd've known -"
"Harry! Harry! Over here!"
Harry looked up and saw Hermione Granger 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 two again - Are you coming into Gringotts, Harry?"
"As soon as I've found the Weasleys," said Harry.
"Yeh won't have long ter wait," Hagrid said with a grin.
Harry and Hermione looked around: Sprinting up the crowded street
were Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Mr. Weasley.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley panted. "We hoped you'd only gone one
grate too far . He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's
49
frantic - she's coming now -"
"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.
"Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid grimly.
"Excellent." said Fred and George together.
"We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously.
*55*
"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid.
Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swing
ing wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.
"Oh, Harry - oh, my dear - you could have been any
where -"
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. 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.
"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked Ron and
Hermione as they climbed the Gringotts steps. "Malfoy and his fa
ther."
"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" said Mr. Weasley sharply
behind them.
"No, he was selling ='
"So he's worried," said Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction. "Oh,
I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something ......
"You be careful, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley sharply as they were
bowed into the bank by a goblin at the door. "That family's trou
ble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew -"
"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" said Mr.
Weasley indignantly, but he was distracted almost at once by the
sight of Hermione's parents, who were standing nervously at the
counter that ran all along the great marble hall, waiting for
Hermione to introduce them.
50
,5 s
"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