Diagon Alley wasn't the same.
As soon as we stepped through the archway from the Leaky Cauldron, I felt it in my bones — a heaviness that dulled the color of everything around us. What had once been the most magical place in the world to me — bustling, strange, glittering with endless enchantment — now felt muted, like someone had thrown a grey veil over it.
The bright displays that usually glittered with enchanted quills and potion kits were almost completely covered up. Posters—tall, wide, and grim—were plastered over nearly every shop window. Most bore the Ministry's latest fear-mongering warnings about Inferi, protective spells, and how to report suspicious behavior. Others displayed enormous, moving photographs of Death Eaters "at large."
One of them was my aunt.
Bellatrix Lestrange's deranged face snarled down from the boarded-up window of the apothecary, hair wild and dark eyes burning with mad laughter. I looked away quickly, but not quickly enough for the tightness in my stomach to ease.
"Keep your head up," Mother murmured beside me, her voice calm but sharp as glass. "You're a Malfoy. You don't cower in the street."
I didn't reply. I simply adjusted my posture and walked on.
We passed a stall that hadn't been there before — a makeshift shack with a sign that read AMULETS: Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi. A twitchy man behind it was shaking chains of silver trinkets in the faces of passersby. Draco made a noise of disgust and muttered something under his breath about how the Alley was "going to the dogs."
Madam Malkin's was our first stop.
As we stepped inside, the familiar chime of the bell overhead rang out, and I took a breath, grateful for the brief escape from the watchful eyes and warnings outside. Madam Malkin greeted us kindly, though I noticed how her eyes lingered on Mother with a flicker of hesitation before she smiled.
"I don't see why I have to be watched like a toddler," Draco grumbled as we stood side by side on the fitting platform, robes half-on while enchanted measuring tapes snipped and fluttered around us. ". . . not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone."
Madam Malkin tutted as she floated toward him. "Now, dear, your mother's quite right. None of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore. It's nothing to do with being a child—"
"Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!"
I sighed and adjusted my arm as another tape floated around me, measuring the length of my glove.
The bell above the door jingled again.
I knew it was them before I even looked. There was a shift in the air — tension, thick and immediate.
My eyes flicked toward the entrance, and there they were. Harry. Ron. Hermione.
They looked... older. Taller. Hermione had a fading bruise under her eye. Harry's gaze slid over me for a moment—and then I looked away sharply, pretending to focus on my sleeve. My throat tightened.
Draco noticed them a heartbeat after I did. His eyes lit up, sharp with malice. His whole posture changed, shoulders squaring, chin tilting upward in that haughty, cruel angle he wore like armor. His voice rang across the shop like a curse.
"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in," he said loudly, drawing himself up proudly.
My heart dropped. I felt sorry for Hermione.
YOU ARE READING
human again / hp.
Fanfiction"I already forgave you, so why can't you forgive yourself?" She's a Malfoy. He's a Potter. Celeste Malfoy has always walked a fine line between the world she was born into and the one she chose for herself. At Hogwarts, nothing is simple. Not friend...
