Chapter 6 – Trouble in Diagon Alley

As they made their way down Diagon Alley toward the imposing and regal building that was Gringotts, Hermione fell back from the Weasley’s, all but scuffing her new shoes as she lagged behind.

Harry, excited about filling his pockets with galleons took a minute to realise that Hermione was no longer walking by his side. He stopped and waited till she was level with them again.

“What’s up?” he asked casually.

“Nothing,” she lied.

Harry stopped and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from walking off. She turned to face him and, for only the second time that he had known her, he saw tears on her cheeks.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Harry insisted.

Hermione shook her head. “I wanted to talk to my mum and dad,” she said, “but they were too busy.”

Harry frowned as this was slightly troubling for him. The subject of Hermione’s parents had never really come up before. When she had talked about them in the past it had always been a superficial conversation. He hadn’t met them, only seen them looking awkward and out of place from across a room at Flourish and Blotts and it has never occurred to him that the lack of a deep conversation about her parents meant she had issues with them.

Having never had parents he had no real idea about how she was feeling. But then again he had the Dursley’s, people who never had time to talk to him. “I think I know what that’s like. If you need to talk, I’m here,” he offered with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.

Hermione looked deeply into Harry’s eyes and another tear fell down her cheek.

For his part, Harry felt awkward under the intense gaze. He dropped his eyes to stare at the ground but quickly changed his mind when his eyes found the short hem line of Hermione’s skirt. “We’d better catch up with the rest,” Harry said as he now pretended to find a display of bat wings fascinating.

Hermione smiled, nodded and together they walked side by side up the street to the steps of Gringotts. Then up they went into the huge hall lined with Goblins manning (or was that goblining?) desks topped with scales and ledgers and stacks of coins of various sizes.

After half an hour and a dizzying, but none-the-less exciting, ride through the huge underground warren like vaults, Harry felt the comforting weight of his money sack in his pocket and was standing in the outside the bank in the blazing late summer sun as it crawled toward midday.

“Everybody still got their lists?” asked Mrs Weasley as she fished Ginny’s out of her handbag.

After a round of nodding, some quick instructions to Ron about not spending money on frivolous items, and orders to meet in three hours time at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves alone in the wizarding world.

“So what first?” asked Ron as he ran a hand over the small amount of money in his pocket that Mrs Weasley had given him. “I say we go to the ice-cream parlour,”

“Honestly Ron,” sighed Hermione. Harry tried to hide a smile that rose up; he was glad to see that she was back to her normal self . “We should get our supplies first.”

“I agree,” said Harry pointing toward Flourish and Blotts, “Books first?”

Ron made a face at the thought of spending the money in his pocket on books, but he also knew the talking to he would get if he wasted his money on what his mother would consider ‘nonessentials’. With a barely suppressed sigh he followed what appeared to be an overly eager Hermione as she wove her way through the crowded street and to the window of the bookshop.

Hermione’s concentration was so focused on the huge books with gold writing in the window that she never saw the person that bumped into her. At least not until she was on her backside in the street and staring at a pair of legs partly swathed in a blood red cloak.

“Oww!” she yelped out as she tried to rub her sore behind. It was then that she looked up the legs to the sneering face that glared down at her.

“Watch where you’re going girl!” snapped the angry voice of Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione just stayed on the ground trying to preserve her dignity with the too short skirt while Harry and Ron moved up to flank her. “You were the one who ran into her!” retorted Ron angrily.

Mr Malfoy turned his head to stare at Harry and he sneered even more. “Potter,” he said with layers of scorn to his tone. “I’m surprised to see that you’re brave enough to show your face around here.”

Harry gritted his teeth and his hand slipped into his pocket where he had hidden his wand. “Say your're sorry.”

Malfoy smiled darkly. “What makes you think that I would want to apologise to a Mudblood?”

Harry pulled his wand out and pointed it at Malfoy. “You will say sorry to her,” he said fiercely, “even if I have to make you do it.”

Ron tensed up and put his hand in his pocked for his wand that, he too, had taken to carrying everywhere. He was acutely aware that, as an under-aged wizard, he was not allowed to do magic outside of school, but he had figured that he would rather be punished for using magic than be found defenceless especially when his best friend was a target of the dark lord.

Hermione rolled partly onto her side and rose to her feet, tugging the hem of her skirt back into place while being only too aware that there was a gathering crowd. “Harry,” she said under her breath.

Harry heard her but kept all his attention on Malfoy. He guessed that the wizard would have his wand on him somewhere and he was prepared to cast a spell at the first hint that he was going for his wand.

Malfoy looked around at the gathering crowd, then back down at Harry and went to slide his hand under his cloak.

Harry saw the movement, and for a brief moment, hesitated. Then he saw the end of a wand. “Expelliarmus!” he shouted.

Lucius Malfoy was knocked back like he had been hit by a truck, stumbling into the gathering crowd that did a collective gasp. Harry’s jaw dropped when what he thought had been a wand rolled out over the ground to stop at his feet. It was a cigar holder.

“What’s going on here?” called out a high pitched Scottish accent. “Mr Potter! What have you done?”

Harry turned dumbfounded at what he had done to find himself looking up at Professor McGonagall. “I…” he said once before he found his jaw working but with no sound coming out.

Hermione reached over and plucked the wand from Harry’s hand and tucked in the waistband at the back of her skirt, pulling her t-shirt down over the handle that stuck up. Harry, too shocked by his own actions let her.

“Come with me Potter,” said Professor McGonagall sternly.

Harry followed silently, the crowd parting to let them pass, riding out on a wave of murmurs and whispers.

“Get you mum,” Hermione snapped at Ron who was about to follow Harry, “I’ll go with them.”

“But…” interrupted Ron.

“Find her!” said Hermione defiantly as she turned on her heel and slid through the closing gap of the crowd to follow the rapidly moving form of the Professor and Harry, who seemed to be caught up in her wake and unwilling to stand around in the streets being stared at more than usual.

He had done a lot of strange, dangerous, and in hindsight, silly things in his four years at Hogwarts, but this beat them all. He had used magic outside of school and attacked an unarmed wizard.

He was so dead.



Ron was all but running through the crowded streets looking for any sign of the rest of his family. He almost bowled over a diminutive witch whom shouted angrily at him that if she had had her wand on her, he would have been hexed, but Ron ignored the threats and her voice dwindled away as he ran on.

It was then, out of the corner of his eye, that he saw Fred and George talking to a wizard. The three of them were all sitting at a table in the sun outside Florean Fortescues Ice-cream Parlour.

Ron shouted to get their attention and tried to fight his way through a knot of foreign wizards who tried to ask him which way to the Quality Quidditch supplies.

Fred smiled. “I think we can arrange that,” he said.

The wizard they were talking to smiled back. “It still seems strange to me,” he said with a slight shake of his head, “but you two have come up with some of the most original joke material for a long time.”

“What can we say?” asked George with a shrug, “we enjoy our work.”

The wizard smiled. “And to think, your still at school!”

“School is more of a formality for us,” said Fred with a wink.

The wizard chuckled. “I’ll expect delivery of those fake wands in the November then?” he confirmed.

Fred and George nodded. “In time for Christmas,” they said in unison as they offered their hands to the man.

“Zonko’s is happy to do business with you!” replied the wizard. “Speaking of business, I think there is someone trying to get your attention.”

Fred and George followed the pointed finger of the wizard and saw Ron just bursting through the crowd of foreign wizards. “Got… to… help… Harry!” he rushed out between deep gulps of air.

“Huh?” asked Fred.

“Where’s mum?” Ron demanded catching his breath.

Fred pointed to a shop four doors down. “Picking up some more Floo powder. Why?”

“Harry’s in trouble!” Ron yelled over his shoulder as he ran toward Magical Mart, a shop with a large poster in the window stating ‘everything for the modern magical household under one enchanted roof’.

Ron burst through the doors with Fred and George in hot pursuit and almost ran into Ginny. “Mum!” Ron yelled in relief.

“Ron? Fred? George?” said Mrs Wesley in surprise. “I thought that we were meeting at one?”

Ron shook his head “Harry’s in trouble! You’ve got to come now!”



“Professor McGonagall. Please. I’m sorry.” Pleaded Harry. “I know I made a big mistake.”

“Yes, Mr. Potter. You did. A very big mistake.” Professor McGonagall said sternly. She did not spare a glance at Harry, but instead continued leading him through the cobblestone streets crowded with shoppers both young and old.

Harry felt an odd sense of déjà vu. He thought back to his first year at Hogwarts when he had been caught flying after being expressly told not to by madam Hooch. It occurred to Harry that it had been a Malfoy that had instigated that infraction as well only this time, instead of Lucius Malfoy, it had been his pale-faced son Draco.

He remembered Professor McGonagall leading him away from the rest of the class in a similar fashion at a quick and silent clip through the halls of the castle. Then, like now, Harry expected to be expelled from the school in disgrace, but to his relief he was instead introduced to the captain of the Gryffindor House Quidditch team as their new seeker. He was lucky then. He didn’t know if he’d be as lucky this time.

This was the third time he’d used magic away from Hogwarts. The first time wasn’t really Harry using magic but Dobby, the Malfoy’s house-elf, trying to get him expelled from school for his own good. The Ministry of Magic was oblivious to that little fact and sent Harry a warning immediately.

The second time he had blown up Aunt Marge like a hot air balloon. That was indeed Harry, but it was a direct reaction to Aunt Marge’s insulting his parentage one too many times during a visit to the Dursleys. The Ministry had been so concerned with Harry’s safety because of the escape of Sirius Black from Azkaban that they had all but dismissed that error in judgment as simply an accident.

“Third time’s a charm they say,” muttered Harry as he attempted to keep up with the professor’s pace. She dodged wizards and avoided witches expertly. Every now and again a student shopping for his or her supplies for the coming year would shout out a friendly hello. She would acknowledge the salutations, but did not slow or deviate from her apparent course.

Would they expel him from Hogwarts? Would they take away his right to perform magic… forever? This would, for all intents and purposes, resign him to live among the muggle community. Thoughts such as these of what might happen to him, farfetched or not, flipped hazardously through his mind, giving him a headache and making his stomach lurch and his heart race.

Professor McGonagall turned this way and that, down one lane and up another. The crowd began to thin. Even had Harry been paying attention he would have been lost when finally the professor stopped in front of an old shop. The words etched on the window read “Busick’s Lair. Unusual Finds and Treasures.”

“Mr. Potter,” Said Professor McGonagall scowling down her nose at him. “I cannot abide by the behaviour you demonstrated just now, even if it was toward that... that... "she waved her arms in the air as if trying to grab down a particular word that eluded her, “man!” she finally spat out in exasperation. With a sigh she shook her head, obviously disappointed. “What will we do with you?”

Harry was truly disappointed in himself, but he was also becoming angry. He gritted his teeth, but attempted a respectful tone of voice and tried to keep it from raising as best he could. “Mr. Malfoy was picking a fight. You know how he hates wizards or witches who aren’t pure-blood. Who knows what he might have done had he really reached for his wand? I wasn’t going to take the chance that he would hurt Hermione. I will protect my friends at all costs, including my own future.” Harry blurted out in one long rush without taking a breath. It was then that he realised just how loyal he was to his friends. How much he truly loved them and needed them. He’d never had a real family, so in his heart his friends had become the family he had so desperately seeked.

“But you must remember… You are Harry Potter!” The professor looked Harry straight in the eyes, piercing him with her stare. “After all these years, have you not realised that you represent an example to the rest of the Wizarding community? You, of all people, should set an example for others to follow. You should know better than to go about inflating relatives or disarming wizards of their cigar cases.”

The anger, frustration and pressure of being who he was nearly brought tears to Harry’s eyes. Nearly. He choked back a sob and said firmly, “With all due respect, Professor, I didn’t ask to be the poster child for young wizards. I didn’t ask to be a role model. I didn’t ask to be the famous Harry Potter.”

Professor McGonagall’s eyes softened, and her stare faltered. After a few moments she sighed, a slight smile trying to form at the corners of her mouth, but failing. “No, of course you didn’t.” She and Harry simply stood where they were for several moments, the professor looking at Harry as if for the first time, and Harry still wondering about his future.

Finally the professor spoke. “You’ve done some growing up over the summer, I see.” Harry, despite Professor McGonagall’s gentle tone of voice felt it was safer after his previous outburst to remain quiet. “Mr. Potter, I understand you are under a lot of stress, but that does not excuse you from following the rules like the rest of your classmates. Do you understand that?”

Harry nodded. “I’m sorry Professor.” Then, as if afraid of the answer, he asked, “What now? The Ministry is sure to take action. Mr. Malfoy will demand it! It’s no secret that he hates me.”

“I’ll tell you what. Professor Dumbledore still has some friends in the Ministry. I’ll explain to him that you were provoked and that you only wanted to protect your friend. That is a commendable attribute, even if the means of expressing your loyalty was less than appropriate. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore can convince the Ministry to lower the infraction to a second warning.” She leaned toward Harry and whispered conspiratorially, “You are, after all, the famous Harry Potter.” She smiled a genuine smile and winked.

It was so unlike her that Harry nearly laughed, but before a chuckle could form in his lungs, the old Professor McGonagall was back in full form. “But no more magic away from Hogwarts. Even you can only be forgiven so many times. Do we understand each other, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, Professor. Thank you.” Harry was relieved and grateful.

“Very well, wait here. Do not, under any circumstances go gallivanting off or exploring, or whatever it is you seem to do to get yourself into trouble. I don’t want to have to go looking for you when I return.” The professor turned her head slightly to face the direction they had come. “That goes for you too, Miss Granger,” she said in a louder, sterner voice.

Harry turned in time to see Hermione slip shyly from around the corner. He couldn’t say he was particularly surprised to see she had followed them. He’d have done the same if the situation was reversed.

Harry turned back to the professor. “We’ll wait here, Professor.” Professor McGonagall nodded once and turned with her robe billowing around her and entered the shop, pausing only briefly to study Hermione and raise an eyebrow.

Hermione walked up beside Harry. “You got lucky,” she said quietly. For several moments the two were quiet. Finally, Hermione burst out “Thank’s for everything you said and for everything you did.” Harry turned to tell her it was what friends were for when she leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Harry, his face turning a beautiful shade of red, merely nodded and smiled as if he was kissed, even just on the cheek, everyday. Hermione couldn’t help but be amused, though she held back a giggle to spare his ego.

Harry, searching for something to break the sudden anxiety that apparently only he was feeling, stepped up to the window of the shop and tried to peer inside. He could see nothing but his own reflection.

“What do you thinks going on in there?” he said, more for conversation than anything else. He hoped that they would find out soon enough.

Hermione walked up to the window as well, cupped her hand against the glass and peered between them. She could see nothing but darkness as if the glass was like a collection of flat black holes that didn’t even show off a reflection on their side.

The sound of the door opening startled them both, but the friendly face that greeted them was a welcomed sight. “Hey Harry. Hermione. How was your summer?”

“Hagrid!” the two cried simultaneously.

“Well come on now, don’t be strangers. You’re not getting too old to hug, are you?” he said with a big smile. Hermione answered by trying to wrap her arms around Hagrid. Harry hesitated a moment, but with an internal shrug, he too stepped up. Hagrid settled one of his huge arms over Harry’s shoulder.

“I hear you’ve been getting into a bit of bother,” Hagrid said as he steered them over to a bench sitting against the wall of the abandoned shop opposite.

“That’s an understatement,” Harry replied as they sat down.

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