Hogwarts: I'm Truly a Model Wizard-Chapter 713: The Malfoys in Diagon Alley

With just a week left until the start of the school year, Kyle and the others needed to visit Diagon Alley to purchase supplies for the upcoming semester.

Although the weather was far from ideal, it didn't dampen anyone's spirits. Harry, in particular, was thrilled. After being cooped up in the house for over a month, even though he enjoyed Sirius's company, he had grown restless. Stepping outside was a much-needed breath of fresh air, and his excitement was palpable.

"How are we getting there?" Bill asked, standing in the street and scanning their surroundings cautiously.

"Remus and Kingsley are driving us," Sirius replied. "Ah, here they are now."

As he spoke, a Ministry of Magic car pulled up in front of them.

"Brilliant," Ron said cheerfully. "I thought we'd have to use that thing again. What's it called? The Subway?"

"There's nothing wrong with the Subway," Hermione retorted, shooting him a disapproving glance.

"Of course, you're right," Ron said, leaning back comfortably in the magically modified car as he climbed in. "But if we're talking convenience and comfort, the Ministry car wins hands down."

This time, Hermione didn't argue—Ron had a point. The car, altered with magic, was indeed far more spacious and luxurious than any Muggle train. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

"Don't get used to it," Mr. Weasley said, turning to address them. "This is a one-time exception to ensure Harry's safety, especially after the Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley recently. He's under level-one security, and we'll also have additional protection at the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry remained quiet. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the special treatment and didn't relish the idea of being followed by Aurors while shopping—though he didn't mind Lupin's presence.

"We're here," Kingsley announced as the car slowed to a stop at Charing Cross Road, pulling up outside the Leaky Cauldron.

"How long will you be?" Kingsley asked, glancing back. "I'll come pick you up."

"About two hours," Mr. Weasley replied. The group stepped out of the car and entered the pub together.

"Great, he's already here," Mr. Weasley said, waving enthusiastically as soon as they stepped inside.

Harry initially thought he was greeting an Auror, but when he looked up, he saw a large, familiar figure.

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed in surprise. "It's you!"

"Didn't want me to protect you, did you?" Hagrid said, striding toward them and accidentally knocking over several tables along the way.

"No! Of course not..." Harry shook his head quickly.

"Don't worry, I'm only joking," Hagrid chuckled, pulling Harry into a bone-crushing hug.

Kyle winced at the sound of creaking that followed. If Hagrid had hugged any tighter, the Skele-Gro Sirius kept on hand might have become necessary. Without hesitation, Kyle avoided a similar fate by sidestepping Hagrid's attempt to greet him the same way.

"Hagrid, are you finished with your assignment?" Kyle asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Just wrapped it up," Hagrid replied. He lowered his voice and added, "Dumbledore said we don't need to watch over those... well, you know."

"That's good to hear," Kyle said with a nod.

"Yeah, and I got back just in time," Hagrid said proudly. "The Ministry wanted to send Aurors to guard Harry, but Dumbledore told them I'd be enough."

"Alright then, let's get moving—there's still a lot to buy."

Despite the recent attack by Death Eaters, the Leaky Cauldron was reasonably busy, thanks to the Ministry's heightened security measures. The group made their way through the pub and into the backyard, where they queued for a security check with an Auror's Revelio Charm. Once cleared, they passed through the wall and entered Diagon Alley.

However, the usual vibrancy of the area was noticeably subdued. The street, typically bustling with activity just before the school year, was quieter than usual. Fewer shoppers roamed about, and those who were present hurried along with anxious expressions.

Large notices and wanted posters of Death Eaters covered the walls and shop windows, adding to the somber atmosphere.

Kyle couldn't help but acknowledge how much this affected the overall shopping experience, but he also understood it was a necessary measure by the Auror Office. Unfortunately, it wasn't something he could change.

"We're in a big group; we have to hurry," said Mrs. Weasley, clearly eager to move along. It was hard to tell whether her urgency stemmed from the memory of the recent attack or simply her preference to avoid lingering too long.

"First, Madam Malkin's Robes," she declared. "Kyle, I noticed earlier your clothes are a little short—you'd better buy some new ones. Harry, you too."

"Molly, we're too big a group to all head to Madam Malkin's," Mr. Weasley interjected. "Why don't you take them while Ginny, Hermione, and I go to Flourish and Blotts first?"

"And Bill, you and Charlie can handle the Quill Shop. Remember to pick up plenty of parchment and ink," he added.

"Yes, Dad," said Bill dutifully, though Mrs. Weasley hesitated. She wanted to finish the shopping quickly but wasn't thrilled at the idea of splitting up.

"Don't worry," Kyle reassured her. "There are at least three Aurors at the Leaky Cauldron, and with so many of us, we'll be fine."

Mrs. Weasley relented with a small sigh. "All right, then."

Diagon Alley was bustling with people like Mrs. Weasley, all moving briskly, as though trying to outpace a lingering unease.

When they reached Madam Malkin's Robes, three figures were just exiting.

"You don't need to follow me. In case you haven't noticed, Mum, I can shop on my own perfectly well," Malfoy muttered, striding ahead in an elegant green robe, clearly disgruntled.

Right outside the shop, he came face-to-face with Harry and the others.

"No wonder I caught a whiff of something foul," Malfoy sneered, narrowing his eyes at Harry. "Where's your Mudblood friend, Potter? Too scared to show up—"

Malfoy froze mid-sentence, his words faltering as his gaze landed on someone he hadn't expected to see.

"Kyle..." Malfoy's eyes flickered uncertainly. "What are you doing here?"

"To shop, obviously," Kyle replied nonchalantly. "School's starting soon. You don't think I'd use last year's textbooks, do you?"

"R-right, of course," Malfoy stammered, lowering his gaze.

Kyle frowned slightly. Something about Malfoy seemed off—like he was nervous or even guilty. But why? That didn't make any sense.

Before Kyle could dwell on it further, Harry and Ron had both drawn their wands.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "If you insult Hermione again, you'll regret it."

What happened next was even stranger.

Normally, Malfoy would have fired back with a cutting remark or some biting sarcasm. But today, he said nothing at all.

"You'd better tell them to put those wands away, Sirius," came a cold voice from behind. Narcissa Malfoy swept forward, her icy gaze fixed on Sirius. "If they so much as touch my son, I'll ensure they never hold a wand again."

"Really?" Sirius stepped in front of Harry, his tone laced with challenge. "Why don't we find out whose spells are faster?"

Narcissa's pale face grew even paler with fury, though her expression remained icy and composed.

"Mum, let's go," Malfoy murmured, tugging lightly at her sleeve. "There's no point wasting time. I still need to buy my books."

The tension between the two groups was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

But Narcissa didn't move. Her piercing gaze flicked to Sirius, then shifted slightly to Kyle.

She had overheard what Malfoy said earlier and knew exactly who Kyle was.

So, this is him, she thought. The one the Dark Lord seeks...

Her fingers brushed her wand. If a confrontation arose here, it could be her chance to eliminate him. Yes, she might be arrested by the Aurors, but at least Draco wouldn't have to take the risk himself.

Her breathing quickened as she calculated the odds.

Meanwhile, Kyle, watching the scene with mild interest, suddenly felt an unmistakable wave of murderous intent.

The sensation was eerily familiar, exactly like the one he had felt during previous encounters with Death Eaters.

Is it aimed at me? Or at everyone here?

Though he couldn't pinpoint the Malfoys' intentions, Kyle acted on instinct. Without a word, his hand slipped into his sleeve, fingers curling around his wand. His other hand quietly unlatched the suitcase he carried, ensuring it was ready at a moment's notice.

After being ambushed by three Death Eaters, Kyle never let the suitcase out of his sight. It went wherever he did.

...

"Oh, come now, sir... madam..."

At this, Madam Malkin emerged from behind a coat rack, a leather measuring tape draped over her hand. Her tone was firm, yet exasperated. "I won't have any fighting in front of my shop. If you insist on continuing, I'll be forced to call the Aurors."

"Mum, let's go," Malfoy urged again, his voice carrying a rare note of pleading.

Perhaps it was Draco's words or simply her desire to avoid further confrontation, but Narcissa Malfoy was the first to step back. She slowly lowered her wand and straightened her posture, though her icy demeanor remained intact.

Her gaze swept across the group before landing on Kyle. She lingered for a moment, her expression unreadable, before speaking pointedly.

"You can't protect them forever, and neither can Dumbledore," she said in a low, deliberate voice.

Then, turning sharply on her heel, she called to Draco with a tone of dismissal. "Let's go, Draco. Later, I'll be throwing those robes away. I refuse to shop in the same place as such scum... Twilfitt and Tattings has far better."

Draco followed quickly, his head down, saying nothing. It was clear he wanted to leave as fast as possible.

"That was uncalled for," muttered Madam Malkin, who had overheard the exchange. She turned back to Sirius with a somewhat forced smile. "Now then, do you need any new robes?"

"Of course," Sirius said cheerfully, stepping into the shop with confidence. "This is the best place, after all."

Madam Malkin's mood brightened at his enthusiasm, and she hurried to assist him.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron stomped in, both fuming.

"The Malfoys are all like that," Ron grumbled. "You just want to punch them in the face."

Kyle lingered outside, his gaze fixed on Narcissa and Draco as they disappeared into another shop. His wand, still hidden in his sleeve, was ever so slightly raised.

If I haven't figured it out by now, I might as well change my name to Ron, he thought dryly.

The source of the earlier murderous intent was unmistakable. Narcissa Malfoy had been the one radiating it, and her target had most likely been him.

While Kyle had initially been unsure, the final look she had given him erased any doubt.

He couldn't perform Legilimency like Dumbledore, who wielded it almost instinctively, but he didn't need it to make simple observations. Narcissa's expression when she looked at Harry was one of disgust, but when her eyes fell on him, something shifted—something darker. She had tried to conceal it, but Kyle had noticed.

Still, it didn't make sense. He had no personal enmity with the Malfoy family. His relationship with Draco could best be described as neutral—not friendly, but certainly not hostile.

Unless Voldemort's offering rewards so tempting that even someone like Narcissa, who's always valued self-preservation above all else, has taken interest?

"Kyle, what are you doing out there? Hurry up! Madam Malkin needs to take your measurements," Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out from inside.

Kyle shook his head, breaking his train of thought. "Coming," he called, glancing one last time at the Malfoys' retreating figures.

He stepped into the shop, letting the door close behind him.

This isn't the place, he decided. Diagon Alley's too crowded, and it's broad daylight. Getting into a fight here would be more trouble than it's worth.

Besides, Hogwarts term was about to start. Whatever Narcissa Malfoy might be planning, she wouldn't dare make a move at the school.

Of course, if she was foolish enough to try, Kyle wouldn't hesitate to introduce her to a few of his Magical Creatures friends.

"What are you looking at out there?" Mrs. Weasley asked as they reached the shop. "Don't mind them; they're all the same in the Malfoy family."

"No, I just saw a classmate," Kyle replied casually.

"Yes, everyone's shopping in Diagon Alley these days," Mrs. Weasley said, brushing it off and focusing on the task at hand.

No one seemed eager to dwell on the Malfoys, and even Madam Malkin appeared more distracted than usual as she measured and fitted robes.

By the time they left the shop, the rest of the group had regrouped.

"Did you see Malfoy and his mother?" Harry asked Hagrid as soon as they reunited.

"Aye," Hagrid replied nonchalantly. "But they won't try anythin' in Diagon Alley. Too public. Do you still need to buy anythin' else?"

"We want to check out Fred and George's shop," Ron chimed in eagerly. "Is that okay?"

"We have to hurry," Harry said, glancing around cautiously.

"It's fine, Molly," Mr. Weasley reassured her. "You really don't need to worry so much."

"Yes," Sirius added with a nod. "It's not as dangerous as you think."

With everyone echoing similar sentiments, Mrs. Weasley relented, though it was clear she still felt uneasy.

The group began making their way toward the Weasley twins' joke shop, with Hermione, who had already visited before, and Bill leading the way.

As they passed the Eeylops Owl Emporium, they stopped to purchase a large bag of owl nuts. They also visited the apothecary, where they stocked up on potion ingredients. Harry and Ron, uncertain if they would continue with Potions lessons, only bought the most basic items.

They continued down the bustling street.

"This is number 92... just a little further..." Hermione pointed out.

In truth, her reminder wasn't necessary. The shop was impossible to miss.

Unlike the rest of Diagon Alley, which was plastered with grim notices and wanted posters, Fred and George's shop stood out like a beacon of chaos and color.

The front window was a dazzling display of fireworks and moving advertisements. A massive poster filled the right-hand window, with bold yellow letters blazing across it:

"WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?

YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO

THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!"

Harry and Ron immediately burst out laughing, but Mrs. Weasley stared at the poster, incredulous, muttering, "U-No-Poo... they'll get assassinated!"

"No, no," Bill said with a chuckle. "That poster's been up for two months. You-Know-Who clearly doesn't bother with things like this. Go on in and have a look. You'll be surprised—they've really turned this place into something incredible."

With that, he stepped forward, leading the way into the shop.

Fred and George were nowhere to be seen; they were likely still at the Ministry of Magic at this hour. The twins had been tied up with additional responsibilities, especially after the recent Dementor scare when they had been guarding the shop's enchanted Patronus necklaces. Now, it seemed they had plenty to catch up on.

"Hello, valued customer," came a polite voice. A clean, well-dressed house-elf approached them, his tone practiced and professional. "The latest products are displayed on the shelves by the counter. U-No-Poo is still on special offer for just one Knut."

Harry squinted at the house-elf, something about him strikingly familiar. "Are you... Dobby?"

At the sound of his name, the house-elf's eyes widened in recognition. "Mr. Harry Potter!" Dobby exclaimed, his voice bursting with excitement.

The moment Dobby realized who was standing before him, his enthusiasm reached a fever pitch. "Dobby is so happy to see Mr. Harry Potter here!" he squeaked, hopping slightly on the spot. His exuberance immediately caught the attention of other shoppers.

"Look, Harry Potter is in Diagon Alley too..."

"I knew it—he's not afraid of You-Know-Who at all!"

Murmurs spread quickly through the shop, and Harry, now painfully aware of the attention, flushed with embarrassment. He hastily lowered his head, using his hair to obscure the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

But Dobby, too caught up in his excitement, didn't notice Harry's discomfort. Grabbing Harry's hand, he enthusiastically pulled him further into the shop.

Once inside, Harry's initial embarrassment began to fade. The shop was much larger than he had expected, its shelves brimming with all sorts of curious and colorful products.

"This is the Patented Daydream Charm," Dobby explained enthusiastically, pointing to a colorful box. "It allows you to quickly enter a high-quality fantasy for 30 minutes!"

He moved on to another shelf. "And this is the Skiving Snackbox, which Mr. Harry Potter definitely doesn't need, right?" Dobby beamed, his ears flapping slightly.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts products, including Shield Gloves and Hats, are the most popular," he continued, gesturing to a section filled with cleverly designed protective gear.

Harry's eyes darted around the shop, struggling to take it all in. Everything looked so fascinating that he wanted to explore every item.

"Dobby..." Harry stopped in front of the Defence Against the Dark Arts section, interrupting the house-elf's excited chatter. "Why are you here? Did Fred and George hire you?"

"No, Dobby is here to help," the house-elf replied, his large ears twitching. "In September, Dobby will go back to where he worked before. Dobby likes it there better."

"Where you worked before? What's that?" Harry asked, his tone casual as his gaze lingered on a small dummy holding a bomb on one of the shelves.

"Dobby is not allowed to say," the house-elf replied, his voice soft.

Harry froze and quickly turned to look at Dobby, his mind racing. He knew house-elves were bound by strict magical contracts to keep their master's secrets. If they even considered revealing something forbidden, they would immediately punish themselves.

Back in second year, Dobby had repeatedly harmed himself whenever he came close to saying too much about the Malfoys.

But this time, Dobby remained perfectly still, calm and composed.

That could only mean one thing: Dobby wasn't prohibited from speaking—he simply didn't want to.

Relief washed over Harry. It seemed Dobby had genuinely found a place he was happy with.

"That's nice," Harry said with a warm smile.

Turning back to the shelf, he pointed to the small dummy. "I'd like to buy this. How much is it?"

"Decoy Detonators," Dobby replied immediately. "Makes a lot of noise. Two Galleons. But if it's for Mr. Harry Potter, it's only one Galleon. Dobby can only do so much."

"And what about this?" Harry asked, picking up a glass marble filled with swirling white mist. It looked like a miniature version of the prophecy orb he had seen at the Ministry.

"Smoke Balls," Dobby said proudly. "Creates a fog quickly. Ten Sickles."

"I'll take it," Harry said, pulling out his money bag.

The memory of Kyle using something similar during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament flashed through Harry's mind. The mist had enveloped the entire hill, making it almost impossible to see. It had been incredibly effective—and he hadn't expected something similar to be so affordable.

"Wait," came a familiar voice. Kyle walked up from behind, glancing at the item in Harry's hand. "Just so you know, this isn't the same kind of large-scale Mist Gem you've seen before. This is an imitation of mine. To be fair, though, the effect isn't bad."

Harry thought for a moment, then shrugged. "That's fine. If worst comes to worst, I'll just use a few more."

Without hesitation, he grabbed a handful of gold coins and stuffed them into Dobby's hands. "I'll take all of these!"