Harry Potter 02 & The Chamber Of Secrets (Illustrated) (7 page)

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 towards 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’s. ‘Skulkin’ around Knockturn Alley, I dunno - dodgy place, Harry - don’ want no one ter see yeh down there -‘

‘I realised
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?’

‘
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.

‘Ruddy 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,’ grinned Hagrid.

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 frantic - she’s coming now.’

‘Where did you come out?’ Ron asked.

‘Knockturn Alley,’ said Hagrid grimly.

‘Brilliant!’
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, Ginny just clinging onto the other.

‘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 ushered into the bank by a bowing 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 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 second-hand 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 school books,’ 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 in Harry’s pocket was clamouring 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 Cannon 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 Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks’, and in a tiny junk shop full of broken wands, wonky 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 outside 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 - 4.30 pm

‘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 queue wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of
Break with a Banshee,
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 which 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 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 the end of his nose, ‘that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book,
Magical Me.
He and his school fellows 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 Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!’

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being 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 recognising. 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 that lot.’

Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started towards 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 mad in here, let’s go outside.’

‘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 amidst the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of
A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration.

‘Obviously not,’ he 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 backwards 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 backwards, knocking more shelves over; ‘Gentlemen, please - please!’ cried the assistant and then, louder than all, ‘Break it up, there, gents, break it up -‘

Hagrid was wading towards 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.’