Grindelwald's Burden (Books 1-7)

15. At Flourish And Blotts.

Harry felt as though he was being sucked down a giant drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast, the roaring in his ears was deafening, he tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick, something hard knocked his elbow and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning, now it felt as though cold hands were slapping his face, squinting through his glasses he saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond, his bacon sandwiches were churning inside him. He closed his eyes again wishing it would stop, and then... He fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the bridge of his glasses snap.

Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, he got gingerly to his feet, holding his broken glasses up to his eyes. Harry didn't even have time to look at his surroundings when he felt something heavy knocking into him and he fell to floor again.

"Sorry Harry." They said.

"Y/n?" Harry asked recognising the voice.

"I came after you. I suspect Mrs Weasley will be very worried about us." Y/n offered his hand out to Harry and helped him up.

Now that both boys were back on their feet they began to look around, but where they were, they had no idea. All either of them could tell was that they were standing in what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard's shop, but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list.

A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the dark, narrow street Harry could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley.

"Come on, We had better get out of here and to Diagon Alley." Y/n suggested as he and Harry made their way swiftly and silently toward the door, but before either got halfway toward it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass, and one of them was the very last person Harry wanted to meet when he was lost, covered in soot, and wearing broken glasses, Draco Malfoy.

Harry looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet to his left. He pulled Y/n by his wrist and both shot inside it and pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack to peer through. Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Malfoy stepped into the shop.

The man who followed could only be Draco's father. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold eyes. Mr. Malfoy crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and saying, "Touch nothing."

Malfoy, who had reached for the glass eye, said, "I thought you were going to buy me a present and why couldn't Atticus come with us?" Draco asked.

"I said I would buy you a racing broom." said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter. "And you're mother has kindly taken Atticus to have his robes adjusted."

'Well that explains where Atticus is.' Y/n thought to himself.

"What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?" said Malfoy, looking sulky and bad tempered. "Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous... famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead..." Malfoy bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls. "...everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick..."

"You have told me this at least a dozen times already." said Mr. Malfoy, with a quelling look at his son. "And I would remind you that it is not...prudent...to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear ah, Mr. Borgin."