𝟎𝟏𝟗. you can never kill a protector

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━━━━━━ CHAPTER NINETEEN.






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"bet you loved that, didn't you, potter?" said a cold, wandering voice as they began to walk out of a great scene that lockhart had created. evelyn turned to look at a blond boy who was wearing an evident sneer.

"famous harry potter," he said. "can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"leave him alone, malfoy," cindy scowled. 

"you've got your girlfriend sticking up for you now, eh?" the malfoy boy sniggered.

after a whole lot of begging, harry potter had convinced his family to go back to school shopping with the weasleys, grangers, and diggorys. while trying to buy their textbooks, gilderoy lockhart had pulled harry in, making a huge fuss over 'the chosen one'. now, remus and lily were off to get lockhart's autograph, james, sirius, mr. and mrs. weasley were picking up books, fred, george, cedric, and sebastian were off somewhere, and they were face to face with a blonde git evelyn and lani had known all too well.

as cindy turned red, ron and hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of lockhart's books.

"oh, it's you," ron said, looking at malfoy as if he was something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "what, are you surprised to see harry here?"

"not as surprised as i am to see you in a shop, weasley," retorted malfoy. "i suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."

ron went even redder than cindy. he dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started towards malfoy, but harry and hermione grabbed the back of his jacket.

"ron!" said mr. weasley, struggling over with fred, george, and ginny. "what are you doing? it's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"well, well, well—arthur weasley."

it was mr. malfoy. he stood with his hand on his son's shoulder, sneering in just the same way. 

"lucius," said mr. weasley, nodding coldly. 

"busy time at the ministry, i hear," said mr. malfoy. "all those raids... i hope they're paying you overtime?"

he reached into ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of a beginner's guide to transfiguration.

"obviously not," mr. malfoy said. "dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

mr. weasley flushed darker than either ron or cindy. 

"we have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, malfoy," he said. 

"clearly," said mr. malfoy, his pale eyes straying to mr. and mrs. granger, who were watching apprehensively. "the company you keep, weasley... and i thought your family could sink no lower—"

there was a thud of metal as ginny's cauldron went flying; mr. weasley had thrown himself at mr. malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "get him, dad!" from fred or george; mrs. weasley was shrieking, "no, arthur, no!" the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "gentlemen, please—please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all, "break it up, there, gents, break it up—"

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗻. ✭Where stories live. Discover now