Public Issues (Demma Book 2)

Diagon and Knockturn Alley

Dateline: August 19th, 1992

After some Quidditch matches with Fred and George every afternoon, it's safe to say that life at the Burrow for Harry and Hermione was as different as possible from life on Privet Drive. The Dursleys liked everything neat and ordered; the Weasleys' house burst with strange and unexpected. What Harry and Hermione found most unusual about life at the Weasleys', however, wasn't the talking mirror they'd encountered in the mourning or the ghoul that bangs pipes all over the attic floor: It was the fact that everybody there seemed to like them.

During one breakfast, Mr Weasley spoke to Harry and Hermione about what he likes to talk about the most: Muggles.

"You must know all about Muggles. So tell me, what exactly is the function of a parking meter?"

Hermione was just about to answer before something interrupted the nice breakfast everyone was having.

"Well, that'll be Errol with the post," said Mrs Weasley.

Errol came flying towards the house with letters of parchment attached to its beak until SMACK! Errol smashed his face against the window.

"Oh, fetch it, will you, Percy, please?"

"Errol," Percy said as Errol fluttered over on the windowsill, and Percy began to look over the letters. "Oh look, it's our Hogwarts letters, and they've sent us Harry and Hermione's as well."

"Dumbledore must know you're here, kids. Doesn't miss a trick, that man." Arthur said, leaving Percy to hand the letters to every single one of the students at the table.

"This lot won't come cheap, Mum. The spell books alone are very expensive." Fred complained

"We'll manage," said Mrs Weasley. "There's only one place we're gonna get all of this. Diagon Alley."

They all grabbed their robes, and Mrs Weasley got out a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece.

"Right. Here we are, Harry. You can go first, dear."

"But Harry and Hermione had never travelled by Floo powder before, Mum," said Ron suddenly.

"Floo powder?" they questioned Ron.

"Oh, well, you go first, Ron, so Harry and Hermione can see how it's done." Mrs Weasley said as Ron grabbed a pinch of glittering powder from the flowerpot, stepped up to the fireplace, and threw the powder in the flames.

"Diagon Alley!" he shouted, causing a big roar that turned the fire into an emerald green.

"See? It's quite easy, dear. Don't be afraid, and don't forget to speak very clearly!"

Trying hard to bear all of the things happening right now, Harry and Hermione took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. They took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; they opened their mouths and swallowed a lot of ash.

"D-Dia-gon Alley," they coughed.

It felt as though they were being sucked down a giant drain. They seemed to be spinning very fast -- the roaring in their ears was deafening -- they tried to keep their eyes open, but the whirl of green flames made them feel sick -- something hard knocked Harry's elbow, and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning -- now it felt as though cold hands were slapping their faces -- squinting through his glasses he saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond -- they closed their eyes again wishing it would stop. Then they fell, face forward, onto the cold stone.

The dark narrow street they could see through was definitely not Diagon Alley. Harry wanted to exit the shop but was stopped by the person they hated to see the most: Draco Malfoy.