Well of Shadows
The Shopping Trip
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Two
~ The Shopping Trip ~
Car chases, as a general rule, were not something that happened in London. No, no, car chases, like you see in the movies, are only supposed to happen in cities like Los Angeles and New York or, if
James Bond was in town, somewhere on the continent. But not in the streets of downtown London one late summer morning.
Truth be told though, it really wasn't much of a car chase, especially since only one car was involved. Still, from the way the car had been driven, you could be forgiven for thinking that it was involved in a high-speed car chase.
It was an odd car to see in London, not so much because of its make and model, but because of its rather eclectic paint job. It was an old and slightly battered Volkswagen, which had once been owned by someone who greatly enjoyed the sixties, if the psychedelic purple with large yellow sunflowers was any indication.
If anyone were to guess they could probably think that whoever was driving thought it still was the sixties. Doubtless they would also think the driver was using something that they would very much like to try for themselves. After all, listening to the screams of pure terror from the passengers in the car, not to mention the way the vehicle was being handled, this was indeed a very likely possibility.
"NO, NO! TURN LEFT! NO! LEFT! AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
The car sped down the road, swerving in and out through the traffic. Somehow it managed to navigate between the other cars with only inches, sometimes less, to spare.
"WATCH OUT! NO! LOOK OUT FOR THOSE MUGGLES!!"
With a deft twist of the steering wheel the Volkswagen slipped though a gap between two groups of terrified people caught walking on the pedestrian crossing.
"IdontwanttodieIdontwanttodieIdontwanttodie..."
With a squeal of spinning tires the car rounded a corner at a speed that caused it to ride up on two wheels, balancing precariously before dropping back down with a thud.
"STAY ON THE ROAD! STAY ON THE ROAD! THE ROAD!!"
People scattered left and right, as well as a few other directions, as the runaway car veered onto the pavement, leaving a trail of traumatised pedestrians behind it.
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! YOU'RE GOING TO GET US ALL KILLED!!"
Back on the road again, the car skidded about before returning to the correct side of the road, but only after clipping off the side mirrors of half a dozen parked cars.
"ImgoingtodieImgoingtodieImgoingtodie..."
The car became airborne, as it crested a low hill, and seemed to hang suspended for several seconds before crashing back onto the road with a spray of sparks.
"THIS IS NOT A BROOM AND WE ARE NOT PLAYING A GAME OF QUIDDITCH!!"
Swerving across two lanes of traffic the Volkswagen was rapidly approaching a tiny looking pub that seemed almost squashed insignificantly between the buildings on either side.
"NO! LEFT! NO! RIGHT! NO, NO, LEFT! LEFT!!"
Without warning the purple car twisted, careening wildly towards an empty parking spot just outside the pub. Its tires left behind looping black tracks of burnt rubber as the car spun around in a full circle, not once, not twice, but three times. With an abrupt jerk and shudder the car came to a rest, neatly parked between two other vehicles, with scarcely a foot of clearance on either side.
"I didn't die?"
"Well, of course you didn’t, Ron," declared Bill Weasley, brushing back his fringe as he looked over his shoulder at his two siblings that were seating on the backseat. He grinned roguishly at his brother and sister. "Was there ever any doubt that I'd get you here safe and sound?"
"Bill, you are a good wizard, an amazing curse breaker and all round a great older brother who I love dearly," said Ginny in a somewhat shaky voice, "but I'm never getting into a car with you again. Ever."
"Come on," Bill protested, "it couldn't have been that bad."
"No," agreed Ron, looking a pale green, "it was worse."
Harry, sitting white-faced in the passenger seat next to Bill, looked back at Ron, "What do you have to complain about? I'm the one that suffered a front row seat."
***
After hastily vacating the car, lest they be trapped inside with Bill, the three Hogwarts students took several minutes trying to regain their composure. Ginny, whose legs still felt like jelly, waited impatiently next to Harry as Ron and Bill argued over the use of the Muggle parking meter.
Just then the door to the Leaky Cauldron swung open and Ginny felt her shoulders tense as her jaw clenched tight. It was purely a reflex action, prompted by the sight of the white-blonde haired woman that came walking out. For a moment Ginny had thought it was Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother, whom she had seen at the Quidditch World Cup two years before.
~Easy there, my little filly,~ Harry told her, reaching over to hold her hand.
After getting a better look at the woman, as she and her dark haired companion stepped outside, Ginny realized that she was getting worked up over nothing. The woman did indeed have blonde hair that was so light as to be almost silver. However her eyes were dancing with merriment rather than disdain and an ethereal smile graced her delicate features as her partner spoke.
"You can't make an omelette without breaking some eggs," he was saying to her in what sounded like an American accent. He was wearing a trench coat --a Muggle trench coat-- and was twirling what looked suspiciously like a Muggle flashlight in one hand.
"If you made an omelette, I'd be expectin' to find the kitchen blown t' bits!" retorted the woman with a soft Irish accent that played far smoother on the ears than Seamus Finnigan's.
As the couple wound their way down the street and disappeared round a corner, Harry and Ginny found that Ron and Bill had finally solved the parking meter. Harry, as chivalrous as ever, held the door to the pub open and allowed Ginny to enter first, followed by Ron, then Bill.
What do you mean, 'little'? asked Ginny silently as they were greeted by Tom the wizened bartender, who seemed extraordinarily pleased to see Harry again. I'm not little!
~You certainly aren't,~ agreed Harry as he shook Tom's hand, glancing towards Ginny with a suggestive gleam in his eyes. He smiled happily and declined Tom's offer for a drink, ~In fact, I'm rather fond of those parts of you that aren't so little anymore...~
Harry! Ginny prayed that the subdued lighting inside the Leaky Cauldron would prevent her two brothers from noticing and commenting on her fierce blush. Almost unconsciously she crossed her arms in front of her chest as Bill called for them to hurry up.
"Three up and two across," Bill observed as he tapped his wand against the appropriate brick. As the archway began to form he turned to Ron. "Where did you say Hermione was going to meet you?"
"Outside Gringotts," replied Ron, his eagerness to be reunited with his girlfriend fairly obvious by the way he was bouncing impatiently from foot to foot.
The archway finished forming, revealing the crooked cobblestone street, crowded with witches and wizards going about their business. Ginny smiled when Harry offered her his hand, which she took as they started winding their way down the alley.
They had not managed to make it past more than one or two stores when a familiar, honey-coated, voice caught their attention. "Really, Potter, I'm disappointed. Still dating the Knutless Weasley girl I see."
*Well, at least it's not the arsehole.*
~Yeah,~ was Harry's sarcastic reply, ~and a queen-bitch is so much better.~
Ginny turned, gritting her teeth as she did, to face a smug Pansy Parkinson. The Slytherin girl smirked at them, looking disdainfully down her nose at Ginny. She graced Harry with what she obviously thought was a coy and flirtatious smile, "Why don't you try a proper witch who has the means to make herself presentable? You don't know what you're missing..."
"Which is probably a good thing," replied Harry, the calm tone of his voice belying the anger that Ginny could feel building inside of him.
~I want to turn her into rat and feed her to Crookshanks!~
Harry, we're in a public place, Ginny warned, You're not allowed to do that.
~I didn't say that I was going to do it, just that I wanted to.~
*We could arrange it if you like.*
~...~
...
*Or perhaps not.*
The obviously false smile Parkinson had been wearing dissolved into a frustrated and annoyed expression. Ginny could almost see the gears starting to turn as Parkinson's disgruntled look changed to a calculating one, her narrow eyes beginning to gleam maliciously.
"I heard that your uncle tried to kill you..." observed Parkinson, grinning once again, "and you even paid him for it. What was it? Five hundred Galleons?"
"One thousand," corrected Harry through clenched teeth, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.
By now Ron had worked himself into a fit righteous indignation and stepped forward to aid his friend by retorting, "Considering the fun Harry had in blowing up their whole house; I'd say it was worth it."
Parkinson arched a fine eyebrow and smirked. "What would a beggar like you know about worth?"
It was perhaps fortunate that Molly Weasley had been unable to accompany the three students that day, sending Bill in her place. If she had been present, Molly would undoubtedly have been shocked and appalled at her youngest son's explicit vocabulary.
*He's almost as talented as you are, my dear Virginia.*
"Such language, Weasel," taunted Parkinson as Bill tried to restrain Ron, using both of his hands to pull the boy back. Despite the fact that she was talking, Harry and Bill were focused on Ron, and Ron was focused on attempting to pull free from Bill's grasp. As such, none of the three men saw what followed.
BANG!!
"WAAAAARRK!!"
Bill was so surprised that he relaxed his hold on Ron, letting the younger male pull free. Ron, however, was similarly dumbstruck and simply stumbled forward. Harry turned from the spot where Parkinson had been standing and looked at Ginny.
~You should've waited for Hermione to join us,~ he noted, breaking into a grin as he turned back to look at the result of her slight of wand. Ginny matched his grin and stepped up beside him, slipping her slender arm around his waist.
"WAAAAARRK!!"
Pansy Parkinson, or rather the somewhat shocked ostrich that had replaced her, was looking about in panic. Her extraordinarily long neck was twisting back and forth, while the short wings that had been her arms, jerked up and down, fluffing her feathers out.
"WAAAAARRK!!"
"Ginny," said Harry, examining the frantic bird, "you are aware, aren't you, that it is the male ostriches that have black and white plumage."
"WAAAA--"
Parkinson's squawk cut off abruptly and the ostrich stared at Harry, horror visibly blooming it the girl's now avian eyes. Harry shrugged helplessly and nodded his confirmation, causing Parkinson to become even more frantic. With a piercing squawk the ostrich took off down the length of Diagon Alley, stubby wings flapping uselessly.
"WAAAAARRK!! WAAAAARRK!! WAAAAARRK!!"
***
"Ginny! How could you? I honestly can't believe you did that!"
Ron slipped an arm around his bushy haired girlfriend's shoulder, holding her close as she voiced her astonishment and disapproval at Ginny's actions. Hermione, even during the summer holidays, was a staunch supporter of following the Rules, even when it involved dealing with ingratiating Slytherin prima donnas.
Good to know some things never change.
Bill, who needed to finish some business with the Gringotts goblins, had given the four teenagers permission to gather what they needed in Diagon Alley without him, provided they stayed out of trouble. They agreed to meet up with him at Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour for a treat before returning to the Burrow.
"She deserved it," answered Ginny with conviction. The fiery headed young woman crossed her arms as they approached Flourish and Blotts. "She's just lucky I didn't turn her into a rat and feed her to Crookshanks."
"Hey!" exclaimed Harry, "that was my idea!"
Ginny smirked as they entered the bookstore. "Great minds."
Ron rolled his eyes and kissed Hermione on the cheek as they followed Harry and Ginny inside. Hermione was scowling in disapproval, but Ron knew her well enough to recognise the glint of amusement hidden within her large cinnamon coloured eyes. She might not act it, maintaining her appearance as a stick-in-the-mud, but secretly she was probably laughing her head off.
"Oh, this is perfect," said Harry, looking over the list of books they needed. "'Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends and Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much, more) by Professor Vindictus Viridian'."
"What about it?" asked Ron, looking over his own list and spotting the relevant book right underneath The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6).
Harry grinned boyishly. "I've wanted this book ever since I found out I was a wizard. Hagrid wouldn't let me buy it though - said it was too advanced."
Hermione, who had handed her list to one of the shop assistants, asked, "Whatever did you want that for during our first year?"
"To curse Dudley, of course!" replied Harry, as if it were obvious.
"Which would probably have ended up with you getting shot by your uncle a good deal sooner," retorted Ginny, frowning unhappily as she recalled the events of the beginning of the summer.
"You're probably right," Harry agreed with a sheepish grin. He glanced to the counter where the assistant was dropping of three sets of sixth-year books. "I wonder who the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor is this year? I wish Remus could've stayed on, but Dumbledore wanted him out in the field with Sirius, monitoring Death Eater activities."
Ron clapped Harry on the back. "Well, whoever it is, they can't be all that bad. After first Quirrel and that dimwit Lockhart, anything's an improvement."
Right? Right.
Ginny, handing over the slip for the few fifth-year books she needed, shook her head in disagreement. "D'you remember Mad-Eye Moody? Or should I say Barty Crouch Junior?"
"Well..." Ron frowned, humming and hawing for a moment, "he may have been a maniacal, murdering Death Eater in disguise, but at least he taught us something useful."
"Constant Vigilance," intoned a voice that they all recognised. The group turned around to see Fred emerging from behind one of the many book stacks. The broadly grinning boy stepped up to give Hermione a brief and friendly hug by way of greeting.
Trying not to become jealous over his brother's chaste embrace, Ron looked at Fred in puzzlement and asked, "Fred, what are you doing here? I thought it was George's turn in the bookshop. Aren't you supposed to be working at Fortescue's?"
The twins, acting on advice from Harry, Remus, Bill and their father, Arthur, were working at several shops in Diagon Alley. The idea was for them to gain experience in the business world, and the ins and outs of running a business, before trying to open their joke shop. It had been Harry, in the end, who had convinced them to proceed in this manner, though Ron had no idea how his friend had managed it.
"I am George!" replied the twin. "You got it all mixed up - Fred's over at the ice-cream parlour, waiting for you lot to join him for lunch. I’m the poor soul that gets to work with the musty books today."
Ron looked to Harry and Ginny who, thanks to the Order, were supposedly able to read a person's magical aura. It was only after they both shook their heads that Ron remembered them telling him that Fred and George were identical to the point that even their auras were the same.
"I’m amazed the two of you have lasted this long at these jobs," commented Ginny as George walked behind the counter and began packing the books into large, brown paper bags. "I’d have thought you would’ve been sacked ages ago for pulling pranks on every customer unlucky enough to cross your paths."
"Just because we enjoy a good laugh as much as the next bloke," George rejoined, stuffing a copy of Advanced Transfiguration into a bag.
Ron leaned close to Hermione and whispered into her ear as his brother spoke. "A bit more than the next bloke I’d reckon."
Hermione had to stifle a giggle as George, who had not heard Ron’s barb, continued packing, "Don’t think that Fred and I can’t be as serious as Perfect Percy when we need to be. Besides, as Harry said when he sold us on the idea, it will be good experience for the future when we’re running our own shop."
"George," asked Hermione, leading the conversation back to one of her favourite subjects, books, "do you have any study guides or books that’ll help me prepare for our N.E.W.T.s?"
"Mione!" protested Ron, looking at his girlfriend with exasperation, "We’re only in our sixth year! How can you even think about starting to study for your N.E.W.T.s?"
Sometimes I worry about her, thought Ron, How can she always be so… so… studious?!
Hermione huffed and crossed her arms defensively across her chest. "Unlike you, Ronald, I’m fully aware of just how taxing the N.E.W.T.s can be, and the sooner I’m ready to face them, the better!"
Ron held his hands up in an attempt at appeasement. "I know, I know, but you got more O.W.L.s than Percy did! Even if you didn’t study you’d probably get more N.E.W.T.s than I will."
"I dare say you could do better if you would at least try studying yourself," replied Hermione, unwilling to let the matter drop so quickly and easily as Ron would have liked.
I think this is getting out of hand. It hasn’t even been an hour and already we’re arguing.
"’Ere you go," announced George, who had ducked down below the counter to look for Hermione’s request. Ron, who was beginning to detect the formation of one of his and Hermione’s legendary arguments, could have kissed his older brother for the distraction as George dropped a book on the countertop with a thud.
Harry, who had been watching from the sidelines, leaned forward to look at the book and read out, "’So, You’re Taking Your N.E.W.T.s Are You? (Start Praying — It’ll Help)’" He looked up at George and then across to Hermione. "My, this sounds like a fine piece of light reading. Mind if I borrow it sometime?"
Hermione, knowing that her friend was teasing her, scowled and told George to put the book with the rest of her purchases. The twin grinned at her and then winked at Ron, picking the book up and carefully slipping it into one of the bags he had already prepared. With all their books finally packed away --Harry and Ginny double-checked the bags for booby traps, just in case-- the four teenagers exited Flourish and Blotts, heading out to collect the rest of their supplies for the school year.
On their way to the apothecary, they met Seamus Finnigan and Moira Mackay, the Gryffindor Quidditch team's new Beaters, outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Even though Seamus was going into his sixth year at Hogwarts, and Moira only her third year, the pair had become almost inseparable during Quidditch practice the previous year.
Fred and George, the first team Beaters at the time, had taken a liking to them both and thought of Seamus and Moira as their protégés, which had resulted in a great deal of concern that the new Beaters would no doubt be as insane as the old ones. So far their performance during the single match they had played (against Slytherin) seemed to confirm this, although everyone had to admit that Moira was the more dangerous of the two.
After exchanging a few pleasantries with the two Beaters and catching up on things they continued on their way, meeting friends and fellow pupils every so often. Ron, Harry and Ginny talked for a few minutes with Terry Boot and Padma Patil of Ravenclaw, both of whom were planning on trying out for their house Quidditch team. Hermione, who could not bear discussion of the game, spent the time conversing with Parvati Patil, one of her fellow sixth-year girls and Padma's twin sister.
They even had a brief --just passing really-- encounter with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, the two looming Slytherin boys who usually stood as matching bookends to either side of Draco Malfoy. This time however, much to everyone's surprise and relief, the duo were not accompanying their master.
"I wonder where the ferret is hiding," remarked Ron as they parted ways. "It’s rather unusual to see those two without him squeezed in between."
"I think Malfoy is probably busy with other activities," answered Harry, looking grimly over his shoulder at the retreating forms of Crabbe and Goyle. He glanced across at Ginny, and the two seemed to have an entire conversation in just that one look, something Ron had noticed a lot of over the past couple of months.
Hermione frowned in consideration and asked, "Do you really think Malfoy’s become a Death Eater?"
It was Ginny that answered with a shrug, "We haven’t had any visions of Tom since the beginning of the summer. If Malfoy did receive a Dark Mark, we won’t know about it until we see him."
Harry nodded his agreement. "When I spoke to Sirius on my birthday he mentioned that Snape hasn’t heard anything about Draco being inducted, although he said Lucius had been acting oddly."
"Guess we’ll find out tomorrow then," Ron said, letting the matter slip from his mind as they almost walked into one of the several Aurors that were posted up and down the length of Diagon Alley.
Finally, after about two or so hours, the quartet finished their shopping and strolled down the pleasantly sunny street to Florean Fortescue's. They were immediately greeted by a beaming Fred Weasley, dressed in a waiter's uniform, as they walked to an outside table and sat themselves down.
"'Lo, Fred," greeted Ron, taking one of the menus his brother was handing out.
"No, no, no, I'm George!" corrected Fred - or perhaps it really was George. "You've got it backwards - today is Fred's turn at Flourish and Blotts."
***
Ron, ever unwilling to fully grow up, insisted on them all having the same strawberry and peanut-butter flavour they had tried several years before. Despite George’s assurances that he wouldn’t do anything untoward with their ice-cream, Ron insisted on following him inside the parlour, dragging Ginny with him since she would be more likely to detect any charms or hexes used by their trickster brother.
"I heard from Ron in one of his letters that Ginny wasn’t made a Prefect," admitted Hermione, once she and Harry were sitting alone at their table.
"Yeah," agreed Harry, "Carmen and Jefferson got chosen instead."
Hermione looked closely at Harry and asked, "You’re not disappointed are you? That she isn’t a Prefect with us?"
Harry smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. Personally I think she would make a great Prefect, but I do have a modicum of faith in the teacher’s decision. Carmen will do just as fine a job, maybe even better. Besides, neither of us were really holding any hope after the way she… assaulted Snape."
Satisfied that Ginny’s lack of selection as a Prefect was not about to cause any problems in her friend’s relationship, Hermione turned to peer into the ice-cream parlour. Craning her head around a stone column that was blocking her view, she thought she could make out a glimpse of Weasley red hair, but there were a great many patrons inside.
"How’s your holiday been?" she asked, settling in her seat. "We haven’t really written to each other all that much since your birthday. Everything all right at the Burrow?"
"Ginny and I are still sleeping in the same bed if that’s what you’re asking," replied Harry dryly, leaning forward to prop his elbow on the table as she tried not to blush.
Since when was Harry so insightful?
Clearing her throat Hermione asked, "I certainly hope you’re not expecting to sleep together tonight. Not while I’m staying in Ginny’s room."
Harry chuckled and replied in a suggestive tone, "You’re welcome to share, or you could spend the night in Ron’s room… I’m sure he’d love the company…"
"Harry!" Hermione almost fell out of her chair she jerked back so quickly. She spluttered incoherently for a second or two, aware of the blood rushing to her face and making her cheeks burn. Collecting herself as best she could, she stated in a firm voice, "I am not going to sleep in Ron’s bedroom!"
Harry smiled smugly at her and cocked an eyebrow. "In that case you’ll just have to grit your teeth and try to bear having me in the same room as you."
Hermione shook her head. "Not bloody likely. Mrs Weasley is reluctant enough as it is trusting you with only Ginny. There’s no way come hell or high water that she’d let you stay in a room with two girls."
"We haven’t done anything we promised not to," said Harry defensively. "Even with that nifty Contraceptive Charm you sent us we decided to wait for a more appropriate time before taking such a step."
"So you haven’t done anything?" asked Hermione incredulously. I don’t believe it.
The blush that rose to Harry’s cheek was satisfying to watch as he ducked his head and admitted in a quiet mumble, "We’ve done… things."
Hermione grinned wickedly and pried, "Then tell me… is Ginny a screamer?"
She was slightly disappointed that Harry was not able to match Ron or Ginny when it came to blushing, but he did produce an admirable attempt at imitating a tomato. Still, watching as Harry’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets and he came close to falling off his chair, Hermione had to laugh at her friend’s embarrassed discomfort.
"I hope you put up a lot of Silencing Charms," she teased, wagging a finger at him.
"Has there been any word in The Daily Prophet about any Death Eater attacks?" countered Harry, blatantly trying to change the topic to something less intimate than his and Ginny’s sex lives.
Hermione grinned knowingly, "Okay. Fine. Change the topic, I don’t mind — I can always interrogate Ginny tonight, while you’re sleeping in Ron’s room. And to answer your question; no, there’s been nothing in The Daily Prophet about Voldemort or his Death Eaters. The summer’s been dead quiet."
Harry frowned. "That’s what’s making me nervous."
"Yeah," agreed Hermione before asking, "Why d’you ask though? I mean, you’re staying at the Burrow this summer. Surely Mr Weasley, or even Percy, should know if anything had happened."
"I know," admitted Harry, "but I wouldn’t put it past Fudge to try and keep Mr Weasley out of the loop, just to spite us."
Hermione was nodding her agreement with Harry’s assessment when Ron and Ginny returned to the table, each carrying two large helpings of strawberry and peanut-butter ice-cream. Ron set one of the ice-creams down in front of Hermione and then sat down next to her.
"Here we go," announced Ginny as she settled in Harry’s lap, looking extraordinarily comfortable as she did so, something that Hermione noticed Ron watching with resignation.
I wonder how he’d react if I tried that with him?
With a mischievous grin that would have done credit to Fred and George, Hermione decided to find out.
TBC...