Michaela's Cousin

Chapter Five: Draco's trip to Diagon Alley

Draco walked up the marble staircase that led from the ground floor up to his bedroom. He had just returned from his shopping trip to Diagon Alley where he had been to pick up his school books and robes.

He threw himself onto his king-size bed, the midnight blue duvet crumbling beneath him. As he kicked off his brown handmade shoes, his mind began replaying the day's events.

He lay there, feeling pleased with himself for quite some time then suddenly remembered what day it was. It was Wednesday, and Wednesday was when he owled Michaela. She was probably wondering why he hadn't written to her.

Getting up, he went quickly over to his ornate cherry wood writing desk. Grabbing a sharpened quill, he dipped it in the ink and began writing:

Dear Michaela,

Hi! Just sending you a quick owl to let you know what's been happening. Mother is better and that is a relief. I mean, it was nice having the house basically all to myself, but I felt almost like an orphan with my father in Azkaban and Mother...ill.

Mother and I went shopping for my school supplies yesterday in Diagon Alley. You'll have to come with us next time we go, they had all sorts of fine things I am sure you'd love.

Everyone in Diagon Alley was scared out of their wits. They were all moving around in large packs, worried the Death Eaters might swoop down on them at any minute. Obviously, I wasn't too worried about that. Our first stop was Madam Malkin's. You know, that place where you got the dress robes that flashed different colours? So, anyway, we were in there and I was almost done being fitted for some more school robes when who do you think came busting through the door? Potter!!! That four-eyed gimp!! And his two Siamese sidekicks, Bushy and Ginger Nut. I was just minding my own business, getting fitted, and Potter began insulting Mother! Saying that he hoped Mother would end up in Azkaban with Father! That they could share a cell! Well, I was furious and wanted to make the Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy-Who-Was-Lying-Dead-On-The-Floor, but luckily for Potter, Mother restrained me. Well, Mother won't be there at Hogwarts with me. I am going to make sure Potter pays for that big mouth of his. I can't wait until Voldemort takes him out!

Anyway, I'd better get this sent off...oh, almost forgot, Mother wants you both to come on Sunday. She's having the house-elves make a nice Sunday roast. I'd really like to see you. I miss you a lot.

Love,

Draco

Draco called Tureis, his eagle owl, over and tied the letter to her leg. Stroking her back gently, he brought her over to the window then watched her fly away, thinking about the other place he'd been; the one not mentioned in the letter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Narcissa and Draco walked furiously out of Madam Malkin's robe shop.

"I could kill him for what he said to you, Mother. How dare he speak to you like that? How dare he even look at you?" Draco said through clenched teeth, his body thrumming with anger.

"Let him talk all he likes, Draco. We both know he won't be around to talk much longer," Narcissa replied soothingly. "Now shall we go to Twilfitt and Tatting's? They have some very fine fabrics there. I don't know why we even bother going into Malkin's shop in the first place. It is just so common."

Draco replied sullenly, "I don't want any new school robes now. I can't be bothered trying any more on."

Narcissa looked at him, a stern expression on her face. "Draco, don't forget who you are. You're a Malfoy. Malfoys do not walk around in sub-standard apparel. Now that your father is...well...in prison, it's even more important that we dress like the Malfoys we are. We can't let the outside world know how devastated we are by what has happened. We need to keep up a strong outside front."

Narcissa turned and began walking to Twilfitt and Tatting's, Draco hurrying after her.

Draco had been fitted for his new school robes without further problems. They were just about to leave the shop when Draco said, "Mother, I need to use the W.C."

"Alright then. I'll come with you and wait outside the door," Narcissa replied, starting to walk towards the back of the shop where the toilets were located.

Draco replied, annoyed, "I don't need you to go with me! I'm almost an adult."

Narcissa hissed at him, "We have to keep up appearances. Every parent in Diagon Alley is watching their child like a hawk. What would people think if I just let you run off alone?"

Draco sneered. "Well, I am hardly in danger from any Death Eaters. I'd say I'm about the safest person in Diagon Alley."

"I know that," Narcissa replied, "but do you want everyone else to know that too?"

Draco sullenly walked towards the toilets, Narcissa close on his heels, and locked the door. He hadn't really needed to go; that was just an excuse to get by himself. He was hoping that while she thought he was in there, he could sneak out and go to Borgin and Burkes.

He looked around for some means of escape and spotted a tiny window above the toilet. It was his only way out. He climbed on the toilet lid then opened the window. He pulled himself up and into the window. It was a very tight squeeze, and for a minute there he thought he was stuck for good, but managed to wiggle out. He fell on the ground with a hard thud.

Picking himself up, he straightened his clothes and headed for Knockturn Alley.

Striding rapidly down the deserted street, he reached Borgin and Burkes and quickly slipped inside.

Borgin was behind the counter, his oily hair gleaming dully in the dark half-light of the store. "What can I do for you today, Master Malfoy?" he asked deferentially.

"I need to fix something. A vanishing cabinet like this one here," Draco said, motioning towards the large black cabinet standing next to him. "There's something wrong with the one I have. Objects that go into it can't come back out again. They seem to get stuck in a sort of limbo. It's very important that I get the cabinet repaired."

Borgin's face showed a mixture of resentment and fear. He'd always disliked the Malfoy brat.

"So," continued Draco, "do you know how to fix it?"

"Possibly," said Borgin. "I'll need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it into the shop?"

Draco was getting more agitated. He needed to fix that cabinet. His life and his parents' depended on it.

"I can't," he replied. "It has to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it."

Borgin began licking his lips nervously. He was starting to wish Draco had never entered his shop.

"Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn't guarantee anything."

"No?" sneered Draco, anxiety rocketing through his body. "Perhaps this will make you more confident?" He pulled up the sleeves of his robes and showed Borgin his Dark Mark.

Borgin was terrified now. His heart was racing. He knew he had to help fix the cabinet now, or the wrath of the Dark Lord would come down on him and his family.

"Tell anyone," Draco threatened, willing to go as far as he had to to get Borgin's cooperation, "and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend; he'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention."

Borgin's knees almost buckled at the sound of Greyback's name. He had two small children at home.

"There will be no need for-"

"I'll decide that," Draco said nastily. "Well, I'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that one safe, I'll need it."

"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?"

Draco just wanted to get out of there, and Borgin's question infuriated him.

"No, of course I wouldn't, you stupid little man. How would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it."

"Of course not...sir," Borgin said, bowing low to Draco.

"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?"

"Naturally, naturally," muttered Borgin, bowing again.

Draco left the shop, feeling elated. Borgin would definitely try his best now to help him fix it.

He hadn't liked threatening Borgin with Greyback. That was the worst, most vile threat that someone could make to someone else, especially one with children. But he was willing to do anything, to say anything, to save himself and his family.