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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 43
🕑 Added 2024-07-04 17:01:00 +0000 UTCChapter 43: Back to School Shopping
“Welp, here we are,” I said, shaking my head a bit to clear it after getting popped over to the Burrow by Inky. We were on the walkway leading up to the crooked tower, and it smelled nice, a bit of rain having come through last night.
“We should have flown,” Harry grumbled, not fond of traveling via House Elf either.
“I doubt it’d be smoother, certainly slower, and we’d stand out like a pair of sore thumbs,” I reminded him.
“I have an invisibility cloak,” Harry pointed out, and I paused.
“Right, you do, forgot that,” I admitted. “But still, no magic during the summer, and all that.”
“Does the rule against underaged uses of magic also include brooms?” Harry asked challengingly, and I had to think about it.
“Um, I don’t actually know,” I admitted. “Something to look up.”
I glanced down at him. “Oh, and slightly off topic, but thanks for lending Dobby to me.”
“No problem,” Harry replied as we walked up to the Burrow’s front door. “He doesn’t really have much to do while I’m staying with you, and he likes helping.”
He then frowned. “Still, was it really okay to pay him so little? A few sickles a day isn’t much.”
“I’m surprised he let me pay him at all,” I admitted. “House Elves normally would be insulted by that offer. Still, he’ll be a big help with running the potion factory.”
Inky was getting older, after all, and an extra pair of hands would make the work go faster and smoother. And it wasn’t like Harry had much need for a House Elf in the first place. Plus, Dobby has been very eager to help me out as well in order to pay me back for helping him and looking after his new master. So it worked out nicely.
Attention back on the present, I knocked on the door, and when it opened two twins grinned back at us.
“Eddy!” “And ickle Harry!” the twins chimed in unison.
“Fred, George,” I said in greeting. “Making yourselves useful today, I see.”
“Mum's all up and eager,” Fred said as he ushered us inside.
“Best to stay out of her way if you don’t want extra chores,” George suggested.
“Ah, yes, Hurricane Molly strikes again,” I chuckled, earning scandalized gasps and giggles from the twins.
“Best not say that-”
“-Where anyone can hear,” the twins replied, stifling their mirth as they led Harry and me into the dining room, where the rest of the redheaded family was.
“Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Thanks for having me over. Hey Ron. Hello Percy,” Harry greeted them, before noticing one of the little Weasleys at the table wasn’t one he recognized.
“Harry ol’ pal, this is Ginny,” Fred said, throwing an arm around their sibling’s shoulder.
“She’s our adorable baby sister,” George added, getting onto the other side of her.
“Hey, Gin,” I greeted.
She just nodded at me, but her eyes were on Harry, and she was blushing up a storm, completely embarrassed by her older brothers’ antics.
I caught the twins’ eyes, and they smirked. I grinned evilly back, and we shared a sinister laugh.
“What’s gotten into you three?” Ron asked, looking at us like we were crazy, while Ginny continued to turn redder than her hair.
“They’re just acting childishly,” Percy sniffed dismissively.
“That may be-”
“But at least we know how to have fun,” the twins teased their older sibling.
“I can have fun!” Percy retorted. “I’ve got a whole list on fun activities and how to best perform them!”
Everyone, even his parents, gave him long, disappointed looks, which made the young soon-to-be Sixth Year huff.
“It’s hard to believe he’s our brother-”
“With that broom up his bum,” the twins whispered loudly to each other.
“Fred! George! Don’t be crass!” Mrs. Weasley huffed.
“Sorry, mum,” they chorused.
“Hmph. Good. Now, we’ll be heading out to Diagon Alley soon,” the Weasley matriarch declared. “We’ll do some shopping, and then we’ll have lunch before finishing up and return home for a nice supper.”
“Actually, do you think we could wait another day before heading out to buy school supplies?” I requested, making the Weasleys look to me in surprise.
“Why? I think today would be the perfect time to do so,” Molly wondered.
“Well, partly, because that’s when Rudy is going with mother to Diagon Alley,” I replied, which earned a sympathetic wince from her and the other children. “But also, it’s going to be very crowded, as Lockheart is going to be having a book signing down at Flourish and Blotts this afternoon.”
“Lockheart? Really?” Mrs. Weasley gasped excited, and even Ginny’s eyes lit up.
“Yeah, the Alley will be jampacked with people looking for an autograph, and I think it’d be a lot less hassle to go afterwards.”
Ginny pouted as her mother nodded slowly in agreement, seeing the merit. If it were just her and her kids plus Harry, it wouldn’t have mattered too much. But, several others were going to be coming with us. Molly was a lot of things, but she wouldn’t want to run afoul of Madam Longbottom or Madam Bones if she lost their relatives in the crowd.
‘Plus, going later would prevent Lucius from dropping Riddle’s Diary into Ginny’s supplies,’ I added to myself in the privacy of my mind. It likely wouldn’t stop the former Death Eater from unloading his master’s Horcrux on some unsuspecting victim, but it would keep Ginny safe. And as distant as I’d become from the family over the years, I still didn’t want to see any of them get hurt if I could help it.
“Yes, I can see your reasoning, we’ll hold off on shopping for school supplies for the day after,” she said, before beaming. “Still, if anyone wants to come with me to Diagon Alley to see Lockheart later today, I’ll happily take them.”
Harry and the other boys all shook their heads. They weren’t particularly interested in meeting the author.
“Maybe we could invite Neville and the others for a shopping trip,” Harry suggested instead.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Mr. Weasley said.
“Yeah! We can get everyone in Gryffindor to come!” Ron said excitedly.
“Well, maybe all the First Years,” Arthur cautioned. “Future and former. I’ll send a few letters.”
“Great! Hey, Harry, wanna have a game of quidditch?” Ron asked, and Harry nodded eagerly. The children soon spilled out in the backyard, even Ginny and Percy venturing out to watch and possibly participate. For the latter, he wanted to prove he could be ‘fun.’ For the former, a game of quidditch with her crush trumped going to Diagon Alley for a book signing.
I shared amused glances with the adults. “I’ll go make sure they don’t do anything too silly,” I promised, and they gave me relieved look.
As I walked outside, I felt good, knowing I’d stopped Ginny becoming a victim.
‘Now, I only have one more task to complete before the school years starts,’ I thought to myself.
I couldn’t do it now, but it wouldn’t be long before I succeeded. Things were going my way!
&&&&&
The next day, Harry and I returned to the Burrow. We weren’t the only ones, though. Hermione, Dean Thomas, and Sally-Anne Perks were with us. All the Muggleborn in Gryffindor were here today. And none of them looked like they’d enjoyed the ride on the Inky Express.
“You get used to it,” I told them as they held their stomachs and wobbled about.
“I don’t believe you,” Dean said, glaring up at me.
“You’re a smart boy,” I grinned back. He just grumbled. I couldn’t wait to see how they reacted to the Knight Bus!
‘Someday,’ I told myself. ‘For now, I’ll get to watch ‘em experience the floo, next!’
We walked up to the Weasley’s house, the three newcomers staring at the odd building with a sort of horrified awe.
“Welcome! You’re right on time! Please, come in!” Mrs. Weasley said, greeting us at the door.
We went inside, and found we were the first ones there, with only Ron sitting in the living room with Ginny, playing a game of chess.
“Neville, Seamus, and the other girls said they’d meet us at the Leaky Cauldron,” Ron helpfully explained when Hermione wondered where the others were.
“Does that include Hannah and Susan?” Harry wondered.
“Oh? Wondering about how your girlfriend is doing?” Dean asked in a teasing voice, Sally-Anne giggling madly as Harry spluttered and Ginny shot him a betrayed look.
“If they’re going to meet us there, who else are we waiting for?” Hermione asked.
“Luna’s gonna be coming with us,” Ron said.
“Who?” Sally-Anne inquired.
“She’s going to be a First Year-”
“Like our darling baby sister,” Fred (or maybe George?) informed us as they entered the living room.
“And since she’s our neighbor-”
“We thought it’d only be polite to offer to take her along as well,” the twins revealed.
“That’s nice. Hope she’s doing well. Haven’t seen her since I moved out of Lumpkin Patch,” I mused.
“You used to live around here?” Hermione asked, and I nodded.
“Yes. In fact, I used to babysit these rascals,” I said, a smirk on my face. Suddenly, it was the twins’ turn to express fear, as the look on my face promised plenty of embarrassing stories. I had dirt on all the Weasleys, after all. And they knew it.
“Well played,” the twins said in unison, begrudging respect in their tones.
Before I could torment them any further, there was a knock at the door, and I had a feeling I knew who it was.
I was proven correct when a tall woman with blonde hair that was almost white entered the living room, a young girl with equally pale blonde hair holding onto her hand.
“Mrs. Lovegood, good to see you again,” I said, smiling warmly at her. I then glanced down at her daughter. “Hi, Luna. Excited to be going to Hogwarts?”
The silver-haired girl nodded shyly in response. “Do you think they’ll have Crumplehorned Snorkracks?”
“Dunno. But you should definitely ask Hagrid. He’s the Groundskeeper, so if anyone would know, it’d be him.”
That brought a smile to her face, and she ran off to chat with Ginny. Her mother smiled fondly, even if there was a note of exasperation in it.
“Her father’s really filled her head with some strange ideas,” she said as way of explanation, and I just shrugged.
“Better an active imagination than not having one at all,” I replied, which earned me a nod. She then left to find Mrs. Weasley, no doubt to gossip over the latest Lockheart book.
As she went off to where the Weasley Matron was, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. If there was one thing I was proud of, one thing I could say had been worth everything I’d gone through, it had been saving Pandora Lovegood’s life.
Luna lost her mother to an accident as a child in the books, but not here in this world. I wasn’t sure why, but butterflies being the way they are, I knew it had something to do with me and my presence. Had it been the time I’d scolded her parents for neglecting her that’d changed things?
Both Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood were… airheads. They were quirky but good people, but I don’t think they’d been ready for children. They were often both caught up in their own work. Xeno with his newspaper, Phyllis with her spell-studies. That left Luna alone far too often. Sometimes they even forgot to feed her!
After the dozenth or so time it’d happened, I’d angrily confronted Luna’s parents about it. A four-year-old girl should not have been eating grass in the yard because she hadn’t had breakfast or lunch! Thankfully, it seemed to have worked. They were more attentive, and that also seemed to have resulted in Phyllis not dying. Perhaps being away from the lab more often had helped in some way?
I’d all but forgotten the Lovegoods after I’d moved out, and it hadn’t clicked with me until I’d begun reviewing my knowledge of the Harry Potter-verse after I’d met Harry and begun focusing more on the individual people in the story and not the overarching circumstances behind the plot.
Regardless, when I realized what had happened, I’d been shocked, and then elated. More than anything, it proved to me that while things were similar to what I knew from the past, there was still a chance to change things. Fate was not immutable. It could be altered. For better or worse. Though in this case, a loving mother not dying horribly in front of her daughter could only be a good thing in my book.
Now that everyone had gathered up, we went to the floo, where Mr. Weasley was waiting for us. He would be our chaperon for the day, while Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Lovegood would stay behind and whip up a big ol’ feast for when we got back. And it was gonna be a big one, since everybody we were going to meet for shopping would be joining us.
As the flames in the fireplace turned a brilliant green, we all stepped through one after the other, whisked away to the Leaky Cauldron.
We all emerged one by one from the pub’s fireplaces, some of us staggering a bit or outright falling onto faces from the disorienting trip.
As one of the first ones through, I immediately spotted the other Gryffindors at a table. How could I tell it was them? Well, for one, there was a lot of ‘em, and no other group had as many children. Secondly, there were two very noticeable people among them. One a pudgy boy with a nervous disposition, the other a grim-faced, hook-nosed woman who wore a stuffed vulture in her hat.
By that alone I was able to immediately tell they were Neville Longbottom and his battle axe of a grandmother. Which meant that the group they were with had to be the other Gryffindors.
The Halfbloods and legacy students (I refused to call them purebloods) all waved eagerly as the Muggleborns and Weasleys tumbled out after each other.
“Hey, guys!” Harry said, waving cheerfully at the other Gryffindors as he got back onto his feet.
“Still haven’t gotten the hang of floo travel, huh?” I teased, and he pouted.
“It’s not my fault! Everything just starts spinning so fast!”
“I find it’s easier to just keep one foot in the air, like you’re about to take another step. Treat it like walking through a doorway,” I suggested, giving him and the other Muggleborn some advice. “Or, do what the twins do, and just jump through. You land on both feet that way.”
Said twins flashed the pile of children thumbs up, while Percy grumbled about them being bad influences.
“We’re all here, then?” Arthur Weasley asked as he appeared from the fireplace. “Oh, hello there, Augusta. I didn’t expect you to be here today.”
“And why wouldn’t I wish to meet my grandson’s friends?” the matron of the Longbottom family inquired haughtily.
Mr. Weasley laughed weakly and wisely decided not to respond, less he incur her wrath. Instead, he turned to the other adults who’d shown up.
“Tammy! Rupert! My, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said, greeting a pair of people, their proximity making it clear they were a couple. The man was short and stocky with a large amount of, while
“Yes, it has,” the man of the group confirmed. “I was surprised to hear my Hannah had become friends with so many people! Why, I remember when she refused to play with anyone except Susan.”
“Dad!” Hannah Abbot whined, punching her father in the arm. He just chuckled, unaffected. At her side, Susan Bones giggled.
The other adult there was an Indian woman, with a pair of twins of her own. Parvati had brought her Ravenclaw sibling Padma along with her, it seemed. Mr. Weasley greeted her polite, and Mrs. Patil smiled, expressing her own joy at the fact that her daughters had made so many friends as well.
“Seems like everyone is here,” Mr. Weasley said. “Let’s get some shopping done, then!”
That spurred everyone on, and the group of children spilled into Diagon Alley.
We wore through the shops on the street, buying the supplies and burying the storeowners in a veritable tidal wave of gold. Well, not literally, but there was a lot of spending happening.
Eventually we made it to Flourish and Blotts, the final stop on our shopping spree. Inside, the parents and myself were given a brief moment to relax as the children were able to more or less pick out their own books. And a few extras in Hermione and Padma case.
“So, Mr. Weasley, I hear you’ve been cracking down on Dark artifacts. How’s that been going?” I asked as I stood beside Arthur as the children browsed the bookstore.
“Yes, it’s been a bit tricky, but it’s rewarding work. Still, I’m glad to have time off at least,” Mr. Weasley said fondly.
“Lucius Malfoy causing any troubles?” I inquired, and he grimaced.
“He has been helpful and cooperative. Which just makes me suspicious,” he admitted.
“Yeah, I can see that,” I muttered.
“As suspicious as I think it may be, sadly, not much I can do about it. He’s an upstanding citizen, after all,” Arthur said, though I could hear the sarcasm in his voice. It was as thick as treacle.
“The founder of their lineage would be ashamed to see what the Malfoys have become in this day and age,” I sighed with a disgusted shake of the head.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, and I noted I suddenly had an audience. Mostly red-heads, but there were other colors mixed in thanks to Harry and his friends.
I was surprised that they’d heard me, but decided to roll with it and give a bit of context.
“Well, you know what ‘Malfoy’ means, right? It’s based off of French. ‘Bad Faith’ is what it loosely translates to. That’s the origin of the Malfoy name,” I pointed out. “But no Frenchman would appreciate being called that. That’s like a British person having a last name of Crapbucket or something along those lines. And as ‘eccentric’ as the magical world gets with its naming conventions, they aren’t there yet.”
“Bad Faith? Did the Malfoys do something bad, then?” a curious Luna asked, and I smiled at her. The flighty silver-haired girl had always been a favorite of mine. She also liked the stories I’d used to tell when we were all younger, before I moved out.
“Nope. See, the founder of the Malfoy line was actually a Muggleborn privateer who harassed the French way back in the Anglo-French War of 1557. He got his wealth from plundering French merchants and bought himself a noble title from the English Crown. He’d poise as a merchant himself before attacking and stealing all their stuff. Hence the French name for him. Malfoy. Bad Faith.”
“His ancestor was a pirate?!” Ron gawked. “That’s… that’s so cool!”
The other boys in the group all nodded their heads, even Neville.
“How did they go from that, to, well, that?” Hannah Abbot asked, nose wrinkled up in disgust as she thought about the little ferret and his father.
“Arrogance and poor life choices,” I guessed with a shrug. “You want to know the real kicker?”
“What?” Ginny asked eagerly.
“The first Malfoy – some guy called Tiberius – was a Gryffindor,” I revealed.
That got a host of wide-eyes and dropped jaws and I cackled at their expressions.
“A Gryffindor? Seriously?” Harry asked skeptically.
“How do you know all this, Mr. Rose?” Hermione wondered.
“I have a bunch of old notebooks and stuff from my family. One of them is a journal of my ancestor, Bartimaeus Hunch, who lived during that time.” I replied. “He spent a few pages ranting about Tiberius Malfoy and various other nuevo rich buying lands and titles instead of earning them.”
“That’s surprising,” Dean Thomas muttered. “I haven’t really had many interactions with the guy – he prefers to try and pick fights with Harry mostly – but Draco Malfoy doesn’t seem like somebody whose ancestor was a pirate.”
“To be fair to the Malfoys, that was a long time ago,” Rupert Abbot said, Hannah's father playing devil’s advocate.
“It’s true. The founder of my House was a necromancer who was a Slytherin,” Susan spoke up. “Families can change over time.”
“Necromancy?” Harry uttered, intrigued, and Susan blushed at the attention she received from him and the others in the group.
“It was a long time ago,” she mumbled, embarrassed and perhaps a touch ashamed.
“Don’t worry about it. Besides, necromancy wasn’t really all that bad centuries ago,” I helpfully assured her.
“Really?” Susan asked skeptically.
“Necromancy used to be a magical discipline used by Shamans to commune with the dead and help them pass on,” I explained. “It was used to exorcise evil spirits, and let families have one final conversation with the recently deceased. Sort of like a wake.”
“Unfortunately, necromancy fell out of favor due to a few bad eggs. Ghosts are just clumps of magic, and unscrupulous mages could use necromancy to bind them and force them to obey, or use the wandering spirits as batteries for foul rituals. And of course you have the Inferni, or corpses reanimated with Dark magic, and anything associated with death, even the helpful aspects, ended up shunned. A bit like Parseltongue, come to think of it.”
I then scratched my chin thoughtfully. ‘Actually, the lack of necromancers in the modern era would explain why there are so many ghosts hanging around.’
Susan looked intrigued by that, and I had a feeling she’d been looking into her own family’s history a bit more after that.
“But isn’t Parseltongue a Dark ability?” Lavender Brown asked, and Harry flinched a bit at that/
“No, it just had a couple arses who abused it,” I replied. I got a few scandalized gasps from the children, and Luna pointed an accusing finger at me.
“You swore!” she said. The silvery blonde girl then pulled out a mason jar from somewhere, which made me blink. And then I saw the words ‘Swear Jar!’ crudely scrawled onto the side with a glitter pen.
“Fine, fine,” I muttered, pulling out a knut and handing it to her. “Can’t believe you still have that. And where were you hiding it?”
“A Pouch of Shrinking,” she replied, showing off a little pink purse she’d been carrying. Cheaper than a mokeskin pouch or a bottomless bag, all it did was shrink whatever you put inside it so you could carry more. Things still weighed the same, though, which was the main downside.
“You were saying about Parseltongue being misunderstood, Mr. Rose?” Mrs. Parvati inquired, and I blinked at her, before recalling her heritage.
“Ah. Right, yes… anyways, Parseltongue is just a magical ability, one inherited, though since it’s a language it’s possible to be taught. But that’s besides the point. Just because some bad men used it in the past doesn’t mean it’s inherently bad. Very few things in life are like that,” I said to the children.
“That’s correct,” Mrs. Parvati said, smiling softly at me in gratitude. “My uncle is a Parseltongue, and he is a respected member of the community back home. Though we call them something different in India.”
“There are wizards and witches in the Americas who are Parseltongues as well who are seen as important figures,” I added, happy to correct some misconceptions. “Sure, Slytherin, one of the more famous Parseltongues in Europe, was a Muggle hating jerk later on in his life, but that wasn’t because of him being Parseltongue.”
“So, Slytherin was just bad, then?” Neville asked hesitantly.
“Perhaps. A lot of history tends to get distorted as time passes. I don’t even know for sure if he can be blamed for not liking Muggles, given some of the things they did a thousand years ago. Heck, they’ve done things in the past few decades that are… bad. But every culture has its shadows,” I admitted with a faint sigh. “Regardless, Slytherin certainly wasn’t justified to hate Muggles as much as he did. Parseltongue or not.”
“I see,” Neville muttered softly to himself, sounding thoughtful.
“And honestly, thinking about the topic, if the Hat were to Sort me, I’d probably end up in Slytherin’s House myself,” I mused thoughtfully.
“Really?” Ron uttered. The rest of the kids were just as surprised, and so were the adults, though they hid it better.
“Really. I might be smart, but I pursue knowledge for the sake of my own purposes,” I stated. “Ravenclaw is all about knowledge for the sake of knowledge, and to a lesser extent, using it for a greater good, like helping society. I’ll gladly help people, but I do have my own goals I’d want to secure along the way.”
“But, but Slytherin is-! They’re-!” Ron sputtered, unable to form a coherent sentence. “They’re the bad guys!”
I glared at him, disappointment in my eyes. “No, they’re not. Just because an unfortunate number of evil people have come from that house in the past doesn’t mean it’s a dumping ground for undesirables.”
“Well, the only Slytherins we know are kinda mean,” Seamus said weakly. “Can ya blame us for thinking that way?”
“I have a pretty good idea of what Slytherin is like these days. My brother is in that House,” I reminded them. “And despite it all, I’d still call myself a Slytherin knowing that.”
Seeing they didn’t understand me at all, I sighed, then asked, “What is Slytherin the house of?”
“Cunning and Ambition,” Hermione piped up, faster than the rest.
“Cunning. Another word for ‘clever.’ And who else is supposed to be clever? Ravenclaw,” I pointed out. “Ambition. The desire to strive for greatness. Reminds me a lot of Gryffindor’s ‘daring,’ or Hufflepuff’s ‘hard work.’”
The gaggle of students around me all gawked like I’d just blown their mind. “See? One house can embody the traits of the other three, if you know how to look. Plus, check out all the good people who’ve come from Slytherin. Rince Mettle, inventor of the standardized cauldrons we all use today. Trinity the Sparrow, the first modern Animagus. Modello Quintly, inventor of Magical Portraits. Valarian Urd, First Minister of Magic in Britain. Merlin, for Merlin’s sake!”
That earned me a few giggles, and I smiled at them.
“But Ed, why are there so many…” Ginny started to ask, before trailing off, unsure of how to ask her question.
“Why are there so many ‘bad people’ in Slytherin?” I asked, guessing her question. The youngest Weasley nodded her head meekly.
A frown crossed my face as I thought over my answer. “There are probably a bunch of reasons. The biggest likely being the unfortunate association of the Death Eaters with that House. It is true a lot of Death Eaters did come from there, and it’s the most recent conflict in living memory, so the stigma has sadly stuck.”
“However, I honestly think the Statute of Secrecy did more to harm the House of Slytherin than any other event in history,” I admitted, getting some surprised looks.
“What do you mean by that?” To my surprise, it was Arthur Weasley who asked this.
“Which House is known for creativity?” I asked instead of answering, and everyone listening to me blinked at the seeming non sequitur.
“Um, Ravenclaw?” Padma Patil guessed.
“Nowadays, yes. Or at least, they’re known for making a lot of discoveries academically speaking. Which is not the same as creativity in my opinion, but I digress. Before the Statute of Secrecy, Slytherin House was famous for its inventors, artists, playwrights and more. Slytherin was the house of politicians but also of dreamers. Cunning and ambition are not inherently evil traits, and people who have high artistic talent also often have these traits in some form or fashion.”
I sighed. “But then the Statute came into effect, and magic was hidden from countless nations and cultures. Famous men and women suddenly had their achievements erased from the minds of their adoring fans and generous non-magical patrons, and those with creative passions found themselves stifled, unable to express themselves openly or find a wider audience. The magical world has stagnated due to its isolation, and one of the many victims of this has been art and imagination. Otherwise, how else would you explain the drek and drivel like Lockhart’s books becoming so popular?”
A few giggles, but nervous this time, and it was only now that I realized that it wasn’t just the group I’d come in with, but the entire bookstore that was listening in on my rant. I resisted the unconscious urge to twitch or act nervous in the face of my newfound audience, and simply continued to speak, doing my best to pay the bystanders no heed.
“The magical world is starved for creativity, and Slytherin House has suffered for it. As such, the House of the Cunning and Ambitious has latched onto anything that might give them some form of identity and unity of purpose. It’s why I believe Grindelwald and Voldemort’s blood purity nonsense found such fertile soil in the House of Serpents.”
I ignored the gasps and flinches when I spoke his name, and instead focus on the children in front of me.
“I hope you understand what I’m trying to explain to you. I was a bit longwinded, but in the end, it’s important to judge people on their actions, and not just make broad calls based on things like house affiliation. Also, context is vital.”
They all nodded dutifully at that, but I could tell some of them hadn’t really understood what I was trying to teach them, or at least, hadn’t internalized it yet. Hopefully they would, in time. And perhaps if they spoke to their parents about this, it might. Or, it might not. Only the future would tell if I’d have an effect on their minds.
Thankfully, my little speech had happened after the kids had all grabbed the books they needed, so they paid for their purchases, and then we made our way out of the shop and back to the Leaky Cauldron.
As we left, I felt many pairs of eyes lingering on me. I spared them little heed, save for discreetly checking on who was doing so, and why. Most seemed curiously as to who I was, while others were annoyed, or even outright angered at my words, though why that was, I had no idea.
However, the gazes I found the most interesting was a piercing one that came from a father and his two golden-haired daughters, who watched me closely as I left. Out of all the other stares I’d received, theirs held curiosity in them. And also a bit of respect, interestingly enough.
I recognized the father, of course. It was hard not to know the face of Cyrus Greengrass, richest man in Wizarding Britain, after all. The Blacks and Malfoys wished they had the kind of cash and influence the owner of the largest and most successful potion ingredient farms could throw around on a whim.
And it seemed I’d caught that man’s attention thanks to my impassioned speech.
‘Maybe something good might just come from this after all,’ I mused to myself thoughtfully. Or maybe it’d turn out awful. But I’d deal with it as it came. Right now, I had to focus on herding a mob of children back to the floo so we’d be back in time for dinner.
&&&&&
Lucius POV
Lucius Malfoy was not having a good day. Or week. Or summer, really. Not since the Ministry had decided to crack down hard on the possession of Dark Artifacts.
From what his sources had told him, the crack-down had been initiated by a ‘suggestion’ by Dumbledore to Minister Fudge. Apparently, Professor Quirrell, the Muggle Studies turned Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, had gone crazy and tried to steal several powerful magical artifacts from the school.
How this exactly translated into a purge aimed at the Purebloods – and it was, no pretty language could hide that – Lucius had no clue, but Dumbledore had convinced the Minister of Magic that this was the right thing to do, and then sicced his lackey, Arthur Weasley, onto the upstanding families, trying to find any ‘illegal’ magical artifacts.
Then, things had gone from bad to worse when the bond between him and his House Elf had suddenly broken one day, and he had no way of knowing how or why.
‘Did the damned thing kill himself with one of his punishments?’ Lucius couldn’t help but wonder. He was annoyed by the creature’s death more for the inconveniences it had caused him than any fondness for it. House Elves were not cheap to buy, hence why even a wealthy family of the Malfoy’s stature could only afford a single one.
Add in the fact that their numbers were dwindling and that their purchase was highly restricted and regulated by the Ministry, and it had cost him a considerable sum to expediate the process. And even then, it took two whole weeks for the new House Elf to be delivered! Two weeks of having to do his own cooking and cleaning like some kind of Muggle!
Well, technically, he hadn’t done it himself. His wife had chosen to take over the kitchen after he’d made one too many burnt meals. And his son had been assigned to ‘practicing’ Scourgify and other cleaning spells. Still, it was a horrific inconvenience!
Last, but certainly not least, was the fact Lucius had been unable to get rid of a few artifacts at Borgin and Burkes. One of which he’d had no way of ‘losing track of’ easily.
It had been given to him by the Dark Lord himself, and he’d been ordered to protect it with his life. Lucius knew that two other families had been given the honor of protecting an artifact personally gifted to them by their lord; the Blacks and the Lestranges. He knew not what they were, only that they’d been important to the Dark Lord. And that Regulus Black had mysteriously disappeared afterwards.
Which was why Lucius had no idea what the item he’d been given was, or why it took the form of a cheap journal anybody could buy at Flourish and Blotts.
At first he’d thought it was a book of spells the Dark Lord had created himself, but it was empty. And no amount of spell work could force it to reveal its secrets. In the end, after failing to unlock its secrets, he’d decided to toss it away to hide himself from the purge going on. Sure, it didn’t seem magical, but the Dark Lord was not a man who played jokes on his followers, so whatever it was, it had to be important.
He hoped Draco would follow his instructions and pass it off to another student at Hogwarts as soon as possible. He didn’t want his son being accused of harboring a Dark artifact, after all.
‘I do hope Tom doesn’t mind that I gave him away so easily,’ Lucius thought to himself. ‘But at least I did as he asked. Though I wonder why Tom wanted to go to Hogwarts in the first place?’
The head of House Malfoy suddenly blinked slowly at that, his thoughts thrown into disarray.
‘Wait, who is Tom, again?’ he thought to himself, confused. A moment later, the Mark of his Master throbbed with pain, and he forgot whatever it was he’d even been thinking about.
It must not have been all that important, in the end.
Comments
Catherine Colin
Fun, i wonder if the magic enhancements ritual will let Ed use a broom
