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“Wonder where his mummy is?” said Harry, frowning.
“Given her the slip by the looks of it,” said Ron.
“Why, though?” said Hermione.
Harry said nothing; he was thinking too hard. Narcissa Malfoy would not have let her precious son out of her sight willingly; Malfoy must have made a real effort to free himself from her clutches.
Harry, knowing and loathing Malfoy, was sure the reason could not be i
He glanced around. Mrs. Weasley and Gi
“Get under here, quick,” said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag.
“Oh, I don’t know, Harry,” said Hermione, looking uncertainly toward Mrs. Weasley.
“Come on,” said Ron.
She hesitated for a second longer, then ducked under the cloak with Harry and Ron. Nobody noticed them vanish; they were all too interested in Fred and George’s products. Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed their way out of the door as quickly as they could, but by the time they gained the street, Malfoy had disappeared just as successfully as they had.
“He was going in that direction,” murmured Harry as quietly as possible, so that the humming Hagrid would not hear them… “C’mon…”
They scurried along, peering left and right, through shop windows and doors, until Hermione pointed ahead.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” she whispered. “Turning left?”
“Big surprise,” whispered Ron.
For Malfoy had glanced around, then slid into Knockturn Alley and out of sight.
“Quick, or we’ll lose him,” said Harry, speeding up.
“Our feet’ll be seen!” said Hermione anxiously, as the cloak flapped a little around their ankles; it was much more difficult hiding all three of them under the cloak nowadays.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Harry impatiently. “Just hurry!”
But Knockturn Alley, the side street devoted to the Dark Arts, looked completely deserted. They peered into windows as they passed, but none of the shops seemed to have any customers at all. Harry supposed it was a bit of a giveaway in these dangerous and suspicious times to buy Dark artifacts… or at least, to be seen buying them.
Hermione gave his arm a hard pinch.
“Ouch!”
“Shh! Look! He’s in there!” she breathed in Harry’s ear.
They had drawn level with the only shop in Knockturn Alley that Harry had ever visited, Borgin and Burkes, which sold a wide variety of sinister objects. There in the midst of the cases full of skulls and old bottles stood Draco Malfoy with his back to them, just visible beyond the very same large black cabinet in which Harry had once hidden to avoid Malfoy and his father. Judging by the movements of Malfoy’s hands, he was talking animatedly. The proprietor of the shop, Mr. Borgin, an oily-haired, stooping man, stood facing Malfoy. He was wearing a curious expression of mingled resentment and fear.
“If only we could hear what they’re saying!” said Hermione.
“We can!” said Ron excitedly. “Hang on—damn.”
He dropped a couple more of the boxes he was still clutching as he fumbled with the largest.
“Extendable Ears, look!”
“Fantastic!” said Hermione, as Ron unraveled the long, flesh-colored strings and began to feed them toward the bottom of the door. “Oh, I hope the door isn’t Imperturbable…”
“No!” said Ron gleefully. “Listen!”
They put their heads together and listened intently to the ends of the strings, through which Malfoy’s voice could be heard loud and clear, as though a radio had been turned on.
“…you know how to fix it?”
“Possibly,” said Borgin, in a tone that suggested he was unwilling to commit himself. “I’ll need to see it, though. Why don’t you bring it into the shop?”
“I can’t,” said Malfoy. “It’s got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it.”
Harry saw Borgin lick his lips nervously.
“Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn’t guarantee anything.”
“No?” said Malfoy, and Harry knew, just by his tone, that Malfoy was sneering. “Perhaps this will make you more confident.”
He moved toward Borgin and was blocked from view by the cabinet. Harry, Ron, and Hermione shuffled sideways to try and keep him in sight, but all they could see was Borgin, looking very frightened.
“Tell anyone,” said Malfoy, “and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He’s a family friend. He’ll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you’re giving the problem your full attention.”
“There will be no need for—”
“I’ll decide that,” said Malfoy. “Well, I’d better be off. And don’t forget to keep that one safe, I’ll need it.”
“Perhaps you’d like to take it now?”
“No, of course I wouldn’t, you stupid, little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don’t sell it.”
“Of course not… sir.”
Borgin made a bow as deep as the one Harry had once seen him give Lucius Malfoy.
“Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?”
“Naturally, naturally,” murmured Borgin, bowing again.
Next moment, the bell over the door tinkled loudly as Malfoy stalked out of the shop looking very pleased with himself. He passed so close to Harry, Ron, and Hermione that they felt the cloak flutter around their knees again. Inside the shop, Borgin remained frozen; his unctuous smile had vanished; he looked worried.
“What was that about?” whispered Ron, reeling in the Extendable Ears.
“Du
“No, he was behind that cabinet…”
“You two stay here,” whispered Hermione.
“What are you—?”
But Hermione had already ducked out from under the cloak. She checked her hair in the reflection in the glass, then marched into the shop, setting the bell tinkling again. Ron hastily fed the Extendable Ears back under the door and passed one of the strings to Harry.
“Hello, horrible morning, isn’t it?” Hermione said brightly to Borgin, who did not answer, but cast her a suspicious look. Humming cheerily, Hermione strolled through the jumble of objects on display.
“Is this necklace for sale?” she asked, pausing beside a glass-fronted case.
“If you’ve got one and a half thousand Galleons,” said Mr. Borgin coldly.
“Oh—er—no, I haven’t got quite that much,” said Hermione, walking on. “And—what about this lovely—um—skull?”
“Sixteen Galleons.”
“So it’s for sale, then? It isn’t being… kept for anyone?”
Mr. Borgin squinted at her. Harry had the nasty feeling he knew exactly what Hermione was up to. Apparently Hermione felt she had been rumbled too because she suddenly threw caution to the winds.
“The thing is, that—er—boy who was in here just now, Draco Malfoy, well, he’s a friend of mine, and I want to get him a birthday present, but if he’s already reserved anything, I obviously don’t want to get him the same thing, so… um…”
It was a pretty lame story in Harry’s opinion, and apparently Borgin thought so too.
“Out,” he said sharply. “Get out!”
Hermione did not wait to be asked twice, but hurried to the door with Borgin at her heels. As the bell tinkled again, Borgin slammed the door behind her and put up the closed sign.
“Ah well,” said Ron, throwing the cloak back over Hermione. “Worth a try, but you were a bit obvious…”
“Well, next time you can show me how it’s done, Master of Mystery!” she snapped.
Ron and Hermione bickered all the way back to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, where they were forced to stop so that they could dodge undetected around a very anxious-looking Mrs. Weasley and Hagrid, who had clearly noticed their absence. Once in the shop, Harry whipped off the Invisibility Cloak, hid it in his bag, and joined in with the other two when they insisted, in answer to Mrs. Weasleys accusations, that they had been in the back room all along, and that she could not have looked properly.