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“Excellent!” said Fred and George together.
“We’ve never been allowed in,” said Ron enviously.
“I should ruddy well think not,” growled Hagrid.
Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Gi
“Oh, Harry—oh, my dear—you could have been anywhere—”
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 father.”
“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 trouble. 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.
“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 ten pound notes in Mr. Granger’s hand.
“Meet you 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 tu
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 Gi
“We’ll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your school books,” said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Gi
Harry, Ron, and Hermione strolled off along the winding, cobbled street. The bag of gold, silver, and bronze jangling cheerfully 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 Ca
“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 pla
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 outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large ba
GILDEROY LOCKHART
will be signing copies of his autobiography
MAGICAL ME
today 12.30—4.30
“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 harassed 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 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 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 a
“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 a