The Girl Who Lived

I thumped down the stairs after my sister. Mum is yelling about some random thing that Fred and George have done - shocker.

“Isn’t he such a hottie,” Ginny says to me. I roll my eyes. She had been talking about Harry Potter since the boys came back from school. “Honestly, Ginny, it’s not like we’re going to walk into the kitchen and he’ll be sitting at our table,” I tell her. We walk into the kitchen and Harry Potter is sitting at our table. “Mummy, have you seen my jumper?” Ginny asks. She hasn’t seen Harry yet. I try not to laugh. “Yes dear, it was on the cat,” Mum tells her.

“McGonagall?” Harry said with a frown. Ginny spots him and stares at him. “Hello,” Harry said to us. Ginny keeps staring. Fred, George and I snicker. “Harry, this is Ginny and Peyton, my sisters,” Ron said. I slid into the seat next to Fred. “Ginny and Harry, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” I say to them. Ginny goes redder than her hair and runs upstairs. Harry goes scarlet. “So you’re the famous Hairy Trotter?” I say to him. Ron glares at me. “It’s Harry Potter, not -” Harry started, but was interrupted by Dad walking in. “Morning Weasleys,” he said. He sits at the head of the table. “Nine raids - hey, your not ginger. Who the heck are you?” he asked Harry. I roll my eyes. He made the joke all the time. It got old quickly. “Oh, I’m Harry, sir. Harry Potter,” Harry told him.

“Shut up! Show me your scar,” Dad said. Harry looked awkward. “The boys flew your car to Surrey and back last night,” Mom told Dad. He looked proud until Mom elbowed him. “Very wrong indeed boys, very wrong indeed,” he said, glancing at Mom. Mom nodded approvingly. “Eat up. We’re going to Diagon Alley at 11,” she told us. I shove my food in my mouth and push my seat back. I pick up a plate of buttered toast and walk upstairs.

Ginny is lying on her bed writing in her diary. I already know what is on her mind; Harry Potter. I put the plate next to her. “We’re going to Diagon Alley in an hour,” I tell her. She locks her diary and puts it on her side table. “Is Har-”

“Yes, your boyfriend is coming,” I tell her. Ginny makes a cute giggle and I roll my eyes. “Pey, help me find the cutest outfit I own,” she begs. I sigh and rummage through her wardrobe. “You owe me,” I tell her.

We go downstairs where Mum is holding a container of Floo Powder. “Don’t you dare try anything. I’m talking to you Fred and George,” she eyeballed my brothers. “Harry,” she holds the container out to Harry. He stares at it confusingly. “I’ll go first,” I tell him, taking a handful of Floo Powder. “Do what I do,” I say to Harry. I stand in the fireplace. “Diagon Alley.”

I reemerge in Diagon Alley. Fred and George come after me. Then Ron and Ginny. Then Mum. Then Dad. Then Percy.

“Where’s Harry?” I ask. Fred smirks. “He’s in D-Diagon Alley,” he said. George laughed. Mum glared at them. “Ron!” I turn to see a girl with brown hair running over to us. “Ronnie’s girlfriend’s here,” I say to George, who snickers. “This is Hermione,” Ron told us. I smile. “Hello Mrs. Weasley,” I smirk and Fred and George burst out laughing. Ron scowls.

We wait for about ten minutes before Harry and Hagrid show. “Oh thank goodness. Thank you so so so so so much Hagrid,” Mum hugged Hagrid. “Where did you end up?” I ask Harry.

“Knockturn Alley,” Harry told us. “Cool!” Me, Fred and George all say in unison. “Alright Weasleys, Potters and Grangers, let’s go get our stuff.”

We go into the bookstore and wander through for a view of Gilderoy ‘Golden Locks’ Lockhart. “There he is,” Mum goes all fan girl. I look at Harry and we try not to laugh. “Mum fancies him,” I tell Hermione. A short man bumps past. “Out of the way! This is for the Daily Prophet!”

At the mention of the newspaper, Golden Locks looks up. “It can’t be Harry Potter?” The crowd whispers excitedly as Golden Locks dives forward, seizes Harry’s hand and turns him toward the photographer. “Nice big smile, Harry. Together, you and I rate the front page,” he whispers under his breath. The camera flashes. “Ladies and gentlemen! What an extraordinary moment this is! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography, Magical Me -- which, incidentally is celebrating its twenty-seventh week atop The Daily Prophet’s Bestseller List -- he had no idea that he would, in fact, be leaving with my entire collected works! Free of charge!” As the crowd claps, Golden Locks catches the eye of a witch and, before Harry knows it, a towering stack of books is shoved into his arms. Mortified, Harry mumbles a quiet thanks.

I lead Harry out of the crowd with Ginny’s help and into an empty part of the bookstore. Fred, George, Hermione and Ron join us after a second. Harry dumps the books in Ginny’s cauldron. “You have these. I’ll buy my-”

“Famous Harry Potter. Can’t even go into a book shop without making the front page.”

We turn to see a slicked back blonde kid who looks the same age as Ron. “Aww, are you jealous,” I ask, raising an eyebrow. The boy narrows his eyes as Fred and George high five me. “Look Potter, got yourself a girlfriend,” he said to Harry. I smirk. “He's totally jealous. The only person who would ever do a Malfoy is a house elf, and they have to, since they do whatever you ask. At least I'm young and attractive.”

Fred, George and Ron snicker. At this point the boy looks pissed. He opens his mouth but he is cut off. “Now now Draco, play nicely.”

I groan as a man with long platinum blonde hair walks over. “Ah... Mr. Potter. I don’t believe we’ve met,” Lucius Malfoy extends his hand, as if offering to shake Harry’s, but instead gently plays his fingers over the fringe of Harry’s scalp, revealing Harry’s scar. At his touch, Harry withdraws, ever so slightly. “Forgive me, Mr. Potter. But your scar is legend. As, of course, is the wizard who gave it to you,” Lucius withdrew his hand. “He was a murderer,” Harry said. “Yes, a pity about your parents. Curious that you yourself should escape with a mere flesh wound. Curious, too, that you speak of him in the past. Surely, you don’t think He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named is gone forever,” Lucius’s eyes glinted with excitement. I narrow my eyes at him. “His name is Voldemort.” Those within earshot gasp as I say the name. “You must be very brave, to dare speak his name. Or foolish,” he said to me. “Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself,” Hermione said to him. Lucius Malfoy’s eyes slide to Hermione. “You must be Miss Granger. Draco’s told me all about you... and your parents. Muggles, aren’t you?” he tries not to show his distaste, but it’s obvious. "At least bookworm isn't a product of incest," I snarl as Dad hurries over. He dumps a bunch of books in Ginny’s cauldron.

“It’s mad in here. Let’s go outside,” he puffed. “Well, well, well -- Weasley Senior,” Lucius narrowed his eyes. “Becky with the good hair,” Dad sighed. “Busy time at the Ministry. All those raids. I hope they’re paying you overtime,” Malfoy reaches into Ginny’s cauldron, removes a very old, battered copy of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration. “Obviously not. 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?” “We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of wizard, Lucius,” Dad said. Lucius glanced at the Grangers. “Clearly. The company you keep, Weasley. And I thought your family could sink no lower.” Dad moves to hit Lucius. Hagrid steps forward, puts a firm hand on his shoulder. “Ignore ‘im, Arthur.” Dad backs away. Mum comes out of the crowd. “What is going on?” she asked. “He’s going on about how he’s rich but he’s stealing Ginny's book,” I tell her. Lucius tosses Ginny’s battered textbook back into her cauldron. “Here, girl. Take your book. It’s the best your father can give you,” Lucius and Draco walk out. Hagrid looks at us. “No Malfoy’s worth listenin’ ter. Rotten ter the core, the whole family.”