Sinister

One | Wampus

DIAGON Alley was always crowded and tempestuous at midday, but Margot Montgomery didn't mind. She'd brave sweltering London any day if it meant freedom from her mother's fretting.

Ever since news broke of the Death Eater attack at the Quidditch World Cup earlier this week, the wizarding world had been in shambles - and so had her mother. Margot had wasted the entire morning begging her not to pull her out of Hogwarts.

"I'll be safer there than anywhere else," Margot reasoned over breakfast, in between bites of toast. "I'm eighteen, Mom. I can take care of myself."

Her mother speared a fork through some runny egg yolk. "Maybe it's not too late to transfer to Ilvermony . . ."

Margot shuddered. As an American, she should be attending Ilvermony rather than Hogwarts. But her aunt Beatrice, a raging Brit and former Head of Ravenclaw, had pulled some strings to snag Margot a spot. Margot had been all too glad to burn her Ilvermony acceptance letter and venture across the pond.

"I'm not going to that place," Margot said, waving her butter knife for emphasis. "I'm staying here and finishing the year."

Her mother didn't appear to be listening. "You could be a Wampus like your father was . . ."

On instinct, Margot ducked her head and looked around the restaurant to make sure no one had overheard. As a rule of thumb, she avoided any mention of her father in public spaces. Amadeus Montgomery was not the sort of name people smiled upon, and Margot had worked hard to distance herself from his sordid reputation. Refusing to attend Ilvermony had been only her first step.

Though, if she'd learned anything since attending Hogwarts, it was that her father's notoriety was global. A certain platinum-haired pest had made sure of that.

"No one wants to be a Wampus, Mom. What the hell even is that?" Margot grimaced. "I'm a Gryffindor. And I'm going to stay a Gryffindor, unless you want to drag me back to Heathrow by the hair."

Her mother winced. "I'd rather not."

"Good. Then we're in agreement."

An hour later, they roamed Diagon Alley so Margot could get her school supplies.

Their first stop had been Gringotts, to exchange dollars for Galleons. She blanched at the exchange rate, which had notably spiked since her last visit, but swallowed her complaints. Most Hogwarts families had entire vaults dedicated to their fortune, but sadly Margot's wasn't one of them.

Their next stop was Flourish and Blotts. Once inside, Margot relished the soothing aroma of ink and parchment and wisdom. Her mother departed to peruse the Gilderoy Lockhart section, and Margot went in search of this year's textbooks.

"The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four," she muttered to herself, trying to locate the book on one of the sagging floor-to-ceiling shelves. She'd wandered to the back of the shop, tucked away behind some forgotten corner. Spotting a worn copy, Margot brushed off its blanket of dust and added it to the stack of books she'd cumulated. Then she returned to the front of the shop and got in line so she could pay.

A telltale clanging by the front door signaled a new customer. Margot peered over her shoulder in time to see two black-clad figures standing by the entrance.

She swore under her breath.

Lucius and Draco Malfoy looked almost comical in the shabby bookshop interior. With their twin luxury suits and rigid postures, their presence clashed loudly with their scruffy surroundings.

Only a summer had passed since Margot had last caught a glimpse of Draco, but he'd changed plenty since then. He was taller, certainly, and leaner, if the tailored fit of his suit was any indication. Sometime in the past few months, the boyish bends of his face had given way to elegant edges. He looked handsome, Margot noted unwillingly, but also bleak. As though joy and comfort were strangers to him.

The observation unsettled her.

"On with it," Lucius instructed, nudging his son forward with the head of his cane. Like he were a dog. "I'll be waiting outside. Remember we haven't all day."

Margot whirled before Draco could spot her, clutching her books to her rattling chest. With any luck, he wouldn't notice her, and she'd be spared his torment for another day. She had long ago come to the conclusion that he spent every summer composing new and exciting ways to torture her. Last year, it'd consisted of bribing first years to send her Howlers at every dinner for a week straight.

She sensed him step behind her, saw the murky shadow he cast on the floorboards, but thankfully he didn't see her.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to the fact that pictures move here," her mother said in a breathless whir, appearing at Margot's side as if she'd Apparated there. "Nearly gives me a heart attack every time."

Margot felt Draco's attention snap to them. She couldn't help but turn around, bracing herself for the incoming verbal lashing.

His eyes flared with dim recognition. "Montgomery."

"Malfoy."

Her mother's gaze flitted between them in confusion. "Oh, are you two school friends?"

Margot tried to convey, with meaningful brow movements, that this was certainly not the case, but Draco managed a scowl that far surpassed any explanation she could have mustered.

"If I wanted to associate with Muggles and their kin, I would go to the zoo," he snarled, voice deeper than she remembered.

"Clever," Margot didn't hesitate to shoot back. "How long have you been working on that one?"

"I take inspiration where I can find it."

"Is that your way of saying I'm your muse?" Margot pretended to swoon.

"Funny." He frowned. "I'm surprised you have the nerve to show up after what happened at the World Cup. If I were you, I'd be hiding in some remote corner of the world, praying Death Eaters don't find you."

"Maybe I should hide in the zoo like you suggested," Margot said. "Though I'd be worried you might tell your father my whereabouts."

Draco's glower sharpened to a knife point. "What are you implying?"

"Next!" the shopkeeper called, forcing their brief stand-off to an end. Margot turned away from Draco and looped her arm through her mother's, who had paled considerably in the past minute. She stepped forward, dumping her books on the desk as gently as she could.

"Just these," Margot said, retrieving her coin purse.

The worker rung up the items and informed her of the total amount.

"I'm sorry?" Margot stammered, making sure she heard him right.

He repeated the sum and her cheeks flamed. She didn't have enough.

"What is it?" her mother asked.

Margot snuck a glance behind her, at Draco, but thankfully his attention was devoted to picking invisible pieces of lint off his suit. She wouldn't have been able to bear it if he witnessed her embarrassment.

"I think I'll just buy these for now," Margot said quietly, picking three books at random. In her head, she was already figuring out a way to ask Ron or Harry to borrow their textbooks. Maybe she could say hers got stolen - they'd believe that. And it wasn't like they cracked their books open more than twice a year anyway.

"Thank you," she muttered quietly, yanking on her mother's arm so they could leave this place as soon as possible. She didn't even cast a backward glance at Draco as they exited Flourish and Blotts. Merlin knew she'd see plenty of him at Hogwarts.