Albus (A Next Generation Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Literature

Draco brushed his hand over the dusty books, feeling the tough spines covered in decaying paper under his fingertips.

He wasn't quite certain why he was helping Potter with this, but he waited patiently as he interrogated the bookshop owner across the room. Draco was there for the shock factor; as everyone knew his name and his previous pass-times back in Voldemort's time, having him along was a very effective way of getting information out of people. His wand twirled around his thin, pale fingers as he made eye contact with the shop owner, watching him malevolently as he answered Potter's questions.

"When was the raid?" Potter snapped. "Can I have the exact date, please?

The owner was a muddled, middle-aged short man who huddled under Potter's shadow, repeatedly stealing glances at Draco, to make sure he wouldn't attack or something. His eyes were set into his head, beadily surveying the situation before him. He spoke with a stutter, as if the events he described made him more nervous than even Draco's presence in his shop. Draco remembered seeing Potter in here with his kids before school. He'd heard about the raid, sure, but it never would have occurred to him that Potter, the famous Auror, would be looking into it. He pulled his black suit sleeves down and glared at the scared little man.

"Before Christmas," the owner told Potter intently. "It was the 15th."

"Do you have the records of everything stolen?" Potter asked, too politely for Draco's liking. If this interview was going to drag on much longer, he would leave. He only cared remotely about helping because this new threat could affect Scorpius.

The two men bustled around the desk as the owner retrieved a document from a tray. There were piles of books absolutely everywhere, all replacements for the ones that had been taken. Draco inspected them carefully, but they were all fiction or information. What they wanted was not there, or it had been hidden somewhere else.

Potter's eyes scanned down the infinitely long list, before asking the big question.

"Did you own a book by the name 'Liber Periculo'?"

The owner frowned, the name obviously not ringing any bells. "I c-can check the records?" He offered, but Potter shook his head. This had been such a waste of Draco's time.

The two wizards finished up their conversation, the owner maniacally shaking Potter's hand as if he was touching gold and he didn't want to let go. Draco scoffed. Bloody Saint Potter. He didn't get his hand shaken, he simply followed the celebrity outside.

Potter continued studying the list of stolen items as they walked down Diagon Alley in silence. They received a few stares from people who obviously knew they were supposed to be arch enemies, but Draco ignored them. The sooner Potter sorted this mess out, the better. He felt his Dark Mark pang again under his sleeve, but he ignored it. It had been bothering him a lot more, but as it wasn't Voldemort, he wasn't letting it get to him.

Eventually they passed the entrance to Knockturn Alley, and Draco decided to make a swift exit. To Potter's astonishment, he bid him goodbye fairly politely. "I have my own business I have to take care of, Potter. Let me know if you find the thing," he told him. Potter nodded, and watched as Draco disappeared down the dark alleyway. He didn't really have any business to attend to, he just wanted to escape his enemy, because hanging out with him wasn't exactly his favourite thing to do.

Walking through Knockturn reminded him too much of those days he'd spent trying to be like his father. Although nowadays the place was a lot less dodgy, it still had the apprehensive sense of disdain about it, a sly, devious feel, as though the dirty bricks and the dark shadows were full of malevolent secrets.