 back here," Ron said to Hermione as the Weasleys and Harry
were led off to their underground vaults by another Gringotts goblin.
The vaults were reached by means of small, goblin-driven carts that sped
along miniature train tracks through the bank's underground tunnels.
Harry enjoyed the breakneck journey down to the Weasleys' vault, but felt
dreadful, far worse than he had in Knockturn Alley, when it was opened.
There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon.
Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into
her bag. Harry felt even worse when they reached his vault. He tried to
block the contents from view as he hastily shoved handfuls of coins into a
leather bag.
Back outside on the marble steps, they all separated. Percy muttered
vaguely about needing a new quill. Fred and George had spotted their
friend from Hogwarts, 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.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione strolled off along the winding, cobbled street.
The bag of gold, silver, and bronze jangling cheerfully
*57*
in Harry's pocket was clamoring to be spent, so he bought three
large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams, which they slurped
happily as they wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating
shop windows. Ron gazed longingly at a full set of Chudley Can
non robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies until
Hermione dragged them off to buy ink and parchment next door.
In Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, they met Fred, George,
and Lee Jordan, who were stocking up on Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous
51
Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks, and in a tiny junk shop full of bro
ken wands, lopsided brass scales, and old cloaks covered in potion
stains they found Percy, deeply immersed in a small and deeply
boring book called Prefects Who Gained Power.
'A study of Hogwarts prefects and their later careers, " Ron read
aloud off the back cover. "That sounds fascinating . . . ."
"Go away," Percy snapped.
"'Course, he's very ambitious, Percy, he's got it all planned
out .... He wants to be Minister of Magic. . . " Ron told Harry
and Hermione in an undertone as they left Percy to it.
An hour later, they headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were by
no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they
approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling out
side 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!"
The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs.
Weasley's age. A harrassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying,
"Calmly, please, ladies .... Don't push, there ... mind the books, now . .
. . "
Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed inside. 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. She sounded breathless
and kept patting her hair. "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
52
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," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had
stepped on it.
Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron
*59*
and then he saw Harry. He stared. Then he 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 thick smoke over the Weasleys.
"Nice big smile, Harry," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth.
"Together, you and I are worth the front page."
When he finally let go of Harry's hand, Harry could hardly feel his fingers.
He tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw an arm
around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side.
"Ladies and gentlemen," 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
53
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
60
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.
"You have these," Harry mumbled to her, tipping the books into the
cauldron. "I'll buy my own -"
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Harry had no
trouble recognizing. He straightened up and found himself face-to-face
with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer.
"Famous Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop
without making the front page."
"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny. It was the first
time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy.
"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" drawled Malfoy. Ginny went
scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching
stacks of Lockhart's books.
"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were 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," retorted
Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for
all those."
Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron,
54
too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the
back of his jacket.
"Ron!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George.
"What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."
61
"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," 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, from amid the glossy
Lockhart books, a very old, very 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 darker than either Ron or Ginny.
"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard,
Malfoy," he said.
"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, 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 spellbooks came thundering down
on 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
55
"Break it up, there, gents, break it up -"
62
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 at her, his eyes
glittering with 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," said Hagrid, 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 leaving, but he barely
came up to Hagrid's waist and 