Hannah Grace and the Dark Arts

~Chapter Eight~

Year Two

Hannah had been wrong: despite thinking that moments throughout the summer had dragged on, no moment was dragging on for longer than this.

She had the right idea bringing a book with her, so at least she had something to pass the time. Hermione had influenced her in that it was always a good idea to have a good read along with you wherever you went, just in case, because you never knew.  Never knew when you would get stuck waiting for the bus, or in traffic (issues Muggles had to deal with as Hermione had told her, and that Hannah had secretly researched herself). Or when you were stuck in Quality Quidditch Supplies, and had been for the last hour.  At least she had something to pass the time - or help to.  Thank you for the tip, Hermione!  

A Very Brief and Really Only A Short Account of the History of Magic in the Italian Peninsula  was much more interesting than watching Dad, Mr. Malfoy and Draco wandering through shelf after shelf of broomsticks for what felt like forever.

Sure, the brooms were interesting, but she had already done her round of the shop – two to be exact, once through and then back again. She had looked, just not in as much detail, not closely analyzing each and every fiber of the broom's brush and the cut of the wooden handles.

Suddenly, her book was forcibly removed from her hands as Draco swiped it from her, giving it a scowl.

"Oi!" She reached for it, but he just held it out of reach, never giving up on the chance to tease her of her small stature.

"That's a long book title," he remarked, trying to make conversation.

"Yeah, almost as long as the time you've spent in the broom shop. Now give it! Or I'll charm you."

"You're not supposed to use magic outside of school!"

"Well aren't you the goody-two shoes."

"No, that's Granger."

"Stop talking about my friend that way!"

Dad and Mr. Malfoy weren't interfering, so they must have become accustomed to their children's rows over the last year.

Draco left her in somewhat peace and continued his round of the shop.

"Hmm." She heard the distinct mutter of Mr. Malfoy.  "Nothing is catching my eye. Is this all the selection you have?" he questioned the very flustered salesman, who had been running about this whole time trying to attend to all the customers.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Malfoy, Sir.  This is the finest selection we have!" the man stated proudly.

Mr. Malfoy clearly didn't share his humble opinion.  He only muttered again in response.

"But you said you would buy me a present," whined Draco. "You promised! And I need a new broom for the start of Quidditch season."

"Yes, I did make that promise. But that was before I saw the drop in your marks."

"I studied hard for my exams," Draco defended himself.  "The teachers were strict when marking, that's all.  Besides, no one can compare to that Hermione Granger, Little Miss Perfect at everything."

"She's dedicated, that's all," Hannah muttered in defense of her friend. 

"Well, I certainly will not have you fall behind because of a girl with Muggle parents," stated Mr. Malfoy, venom behind his words. 

"Of course not, Father."

"Hannah could help him with his studies," suggested Dad.

She pretended not to have heard him.  "Dad, can't I go to the bookshop and you can meet me?"

"We'll all go, Hannah, once we're finished here. We're almost ready."

Which was only what he'd been saying for the past hour.

Thankfully, right then, she noticed some people strolling by out the shop window. She knew that red hair, and those crooked, round glasses. There were Ron and Harry walking down the street. Hannah promptly tucked her book beneath her arm, slid down the bannister, and ran up to her father.  "Dad, I just saw my friends go by, I'm going to go say hello!"  Before he could protest, Hannah was flying out of the shop to catch up to the boys, dodging the crowds of shoppers.  "Ron, Harry!"

They turned at the familiar mixed accent and saw her rushing towards them.  "Hannah!"

She hugged them both.  "Oh, am I ever glad to see you! You saved me - Dad, Mr. Malfoy and Draco can look at bloody brooms for hours!" She shook her head, plait flapping with the movement.  "How are your summers going? Harry, why didn't you respond to my letters?"

"It's a bit of a long story. I'll tell you when we're back at school."

She looked at him quizzically, but nodded.

"Come with us," said Ron.  "We're going to meet Hermione at the bookshop."

This made Hannah grin.  "Of course you are - let's go!"

"Yeah, of course she's in the bookshop," said Ron as they arrived at Flourish and Blotts. 

"Well of course I am, where else would I be?" Hermione appeared, arms full of books as usual.  The stack in her arms was almost so tall you couldn't see her face, save for her bushy hair sticking out from  behind the assorted spines.

"The library? Anywhere with books, really."

"Well, nice to see you, too.  Hope you had a nice summer," Hermione huffed.  

"Hey Harry, Hannah, that stack of books sounded an awful lot like Hermione, didn't you think? I think she's reading so much she's turned into a pile of books herself!"

"Oh very funny, Ronald." Hermione huffed, peering around her stack of books, which she was only adding to. This was quickly replaced with a giant grin, however.  "Guess who's here signing his books?! Gilderoy Lockhart! The  Gilderoy Lockhart!" she squealed in a very un-Hermione like fashion. 

"Sorry, who exactly?" asked Harry sheepishly.

"Famous wizard, written a ton of books. Big deal he is." Ron shrugged, clearly not sharing in Hermione's excitement.

"He's wildly popular," added Hannah. "Seems rather pompous and selfish to me."

"But he's such a well-known author!" cried Hermione. "Almost all of our books for this year are his!"

"Grand," mumbled Ron.

"Rather not support him," agreed Hannah.

"What book is that you've got there, Hannah?" asked Hermione.

"Oh boy, here they go," sighed Ron. 

"Hannah Augusta Grace."

The low, brooding voice caused the four to straighten up, and Hannah to wince. "Oh, hi Dad..."

Her father's dark eyes were narrowed, his hands clasped behind his back, and his shoulders squared stiffly. Dad always looked stiff.  "I did not appreciate you running off like that."

"I was just going to see my friends. And I told you." It wasn't like she had just run off.

"Don't do it again. Understand?"

"Yes, Dad."

Now her father eyed her friends.  "I take it these are the - friends - you rushed off to see. " 

Hannah didn't know what was worse: her father's cruel tone, or his judgmental gaze. 

Draco was smirking at her getting into trouble. She punched his arm, hard, on her way by.

(It's a little late, I know, but in honour of Halloween here's another chapter! :) Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :))