Slipping Secrets (Rhya Riddle- Book 2)

Diagon Alley

*

Both Harry and I averted our gaze when Mrs Weasley scooped the few silver coins out of her vault, and our eyes met. We both knew how much Ron hated being poor, but I hadn't realised just how little he had. I could feel Harry thinking the same thing.

When the cart pulled up at Harry's vault, I peered over his shoulder to see mountains of coins overflowing, and he shoved a handful into his bag before quickly shutting the door. I hadn't gotten out of the cart, and Harry clambered back in, his face clearly red in the gloomy light from the gobin's lantern.

"That felt horrible..." He whispered in my ear, and I gave a hesitant smile back.

"I'm just glad that they won't be able to see my vault."

The wooden cart rumbled down a fair way, before dropping suddenly and moving at full speed down the rickety track, which swerved dangerously around the stalagmites that rose from the ground.

The journey seemed to last for hours, and it was with a great relief that we jerked to a halt outside a giant archway. The goblin rose from the cart and handed me 'The Clankers'; a pair of rought, rusted bells that tonged loudly as I moved them. From a little way away I heard a almighty roar and slithering.

By the time we'd reached the Lestrange Vault, the dragon was nowhere in sight, for which I was grateful. The first time I had come down here I was nearly sick at the sight of the blind, mangey dragon kept in its chains.

I grabbed a handful of coins off one of the shelves groaning under the weight of massive amounts of gold, and a few piecces of probably priceless jewelery before quickly leaving and hopping back in the cart.

I saw Ron craning his neck to look in towards my vault, and I was very glad that he couldn't see it. If he though Harry was rich he'd be appalled to look into my vault.

We arrived back at Diagon Alley, and split into two groups. Harry, Hermione, Ron and I were going to go buy our robes for the year - or rather, they were while I watched. I hadn't grown out of last years, and they weren't ragged enough to buy new ones.

Outside Madame Malkins shop, I quickly said to them, "You guys go on ahead, I'll get ice cream."

"Aren't you getting robes, Rhy?" Harry asked, and I wondered why he was bothering to shorten the already shortened version of my name.

"Ah, no. I'm still OK with last years, I'll be back in five."

I didn't know why I wanted to skip shopping, but I had the sudden urge to be alone. Harry gave me an odd look as they went inside, and I gave him a half hearted smile back, befor walking down the street.

Outside the ice cream parlour were an assorted range of couples, and I felt a small pang in my chest as I thought of Blaise. The stupid idiot, I added as an after thought, smiling slightly. I ordered four berry ice creams, and while Floren Fortescue made them, I looked around at the couple, then my breath froze.

My brother was sitting at a table, chatting happily to Madonna Mc Gonnigal, and as I watched she laughed and held his hand. I felt like gong over there, grabbing her by the hair and slamming her face into the table, but was interrupted by an "Excuse me, dear".

I grabbed the icecreams of the startled man and strode outside, forcing myself not to sneer at Marcal, who didn't seemed to have noticed me.

I reached Harry and the others as they were coming out of Madame Malkins, in a terrible mood. They grinned at me as they took an ice cream, and I couldn't keep the scowl off my face.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked with concern.

"My brother."

"Marcal?" Hermione asked.

"No, Albus Dumbledore." I couldn't help the sarcasm, it was just there.

"Well, what about Marcal?" Harry asked,

"He is on  a date. With a girl. That I know. Now she must die."

They laughed, not taking me seriously, and I was being completely serious.

"Who is it?" Ron asked, grinning.

"Minerva Mc Gonnigal," I hissed, then suddenly changed the topic. "Anyway, I'm not happy, so let's go and blow a lot of money on something."

"Books?" suggested Hermione.

Ron looked at her. "Junk food, obviously."

But Harry seemed to read my mind (always a dangerous possibility). "Quidditch."

                                                                    *

"Oh wow," Ron said.

'Wow' didn't even cover the Nimbus 2001 that lay on it's pedastal in Quality Quidditch Supplies. It's sleek black handle was something of a marvel, along with the delicatley cut twigs at the end. Inscribed in silver along the handle was it's name.

"Mine," I said giddily. "This has to be mine if I try out for the Quidditch team. Oh God, I can't wait to see Marcal's face!"

"Well, this one here is on a 10% discount," The shop assistant told me. "Only 895 Galleons. If you order it now we can have it to you by the 3rd of September."

"What? That much?" Ron asked, his mouth gaping.

"Deal," I replied, pulling out my money bag, "God, that thing is gorgeous. And all miney mine mine."

Even Harry looked impressed. "I should have waited a year for my broom."

 I laughed as I tipped the coins into the store manager's hands, and he began to count them, simply ignoring the fact that he had sold it to a twelve year old.

I was feeling a lot better as we exited the shop. Harry, with his new broomstick servicing kit, and Ron with the Chudley Cannons scarf I'd bought him. Harry and I had offered Hermione something, but she'd simply told us that we could get it at Flourish and Blott's.

There was a large crowd obscuring the bookstore when we got there, but fortunately Mrs Weasley was there at the start of the que, and she ushered us to her. We were all craning our necks to look at what was happening inside the book shop.

"Gilderoy Lockheart!"

"I can't believe he's signing here today. I wonder if he'll sign my copy of his complete works?"

The two witches in front of us were chatting animatedly, and I shook my head. Gilderoy Lockheart. I'd heard of him, fantastic they'd said, and he certainly sounded like a worthy magician. Nothing on myself, of course, but then again, he did have more experience.

At last we were let into the shop, and Gilderoy Lockheart was clearly visible on a small stage erected in front of the front desk of the bookshop, his golden hair gleaming in the light. He was wearing long, lilac robes, and I spotted a few witches reaching out to touch him as he passed.

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered in my ear. "Isn't he gorgous?"

"Yeah," I replied, sniggering. "If you like twits."

And that's when he spotted Harry.