From a Serpent to a Lioness: Year Two

I give Harry a quick hug as Hermione waves Hagrid off. “Well, we finally found you! Come on, everyone’s been looking for you! They’ve been so worried!”

Within the next five minutes, we’ve rendezvoused with the rest of the Weasley clan at Flourish and Blotts, the bookshop where we’ll find the required reading for this years’ studies at Hogwarts. There are a whole bunch of exceedingly ostentatious displays depicting a handsome blonde man with immaculate hair. Something about him seems… what’s the word my father likes to throw around… ah, fraudulent. He seems to be rather full of himself, too, judging by just how gauche and tacky the displays are.

There’s a large queue, as well, far more than just Hogwarts students and their families, but other witches and wizards, too, all holding copies of the book from that display. I pick one up and take a closer look.

‘Magical Me’, by one Gilderoy Lockhart. When the moving image of the handsome wizard winks at me, I hurriedly put it back. Ugh.

Mrs Weasley pulls Harry close.

“Oh, Harry! Thank goodness. We hoped you’d only gone one grate too far.” A voice calls, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart!”

 

Everyone starts applauding as the handsome wizard from the cover of the book struts out from the back of the store, smiling languidly as he basks in the attention. Ron mutters to me, “Mum fancies ‘im!” and is immediately shushed by Mrs Weasley.

“Make way there, please! Let me by, thank you madam! Excuse me, little girl. This is for the Daily Prophet!”

A bearded wizard with a camera bustles past us all to take pictures of Mr. Lockhart. As he turns to make sure that the photographer gets his good side, his eyes make contact with Harry’s, and his expression switches from one of casual cockiness to one of shock.

“It can’t be. Harry Potter?”

A broad grin starts to break across his face. The crowd starts zeroing in on my friend, and I can’t help but feel glad that I’m not the centre of attention. The photographer blurts, “Harry Potter?! Excuse me, madam!” and reaches out, grabbing Harry by the arm and tugging him bodily out of the queue to thrust him into the limelight, handing him off to Lockhart, who physically drags him into position next to him.

“Nice big smile, Harry. Together, you and I rate the front page.”

To the rest of us at large, he speaks louder.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is. When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography, Magical me…”

Everyone around us is clapping, even Hermione, and Ron and I share a nauseated look.

“Which, incidentally, is celebrating its 27^th week atop the Daily Prophet bestseller list, he had no idea that he would, in fact, be leaving with my entire collected works, free of charge.”

I spot a familiar sneering face on the first floor, looking down at Harry.

“Of course Draco Malfoy would be here today of all days…” I huff.

Once the photographer is finished, he bustles away and Harry is allowed to return to us as Lockhart sits down.

“Now. Ladies?”

 

Mrs Weasley takes the books from Harry. “You give those to me, and I’ll get them signed. All of you, wait outside. That’s it, Ron.”

We all start obediently trooping towards the exit. Luckily, I can grab what I need on the way and quickly pay for it, no problems, itching to get back to the Burrow. While I won’t’ be able to take my Polyjuice Potion, I can do it as soon as I get aboard the Hogwarts Express. Simply having the bottle with about three days’ worth of potion and the twist of hair on me is so reassuring…

And, of course, just when I’m feeling happy, something ugly comes along just to ruin it.

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter?”

I let out an internal groan. Of COURSE Draco’s still an absolute prat. Even the summer holidays haven’t mellowed him out in the slightest.

“Famous Harry Potter, can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page.”

Ginny stands her ground, and I hear the surprising venom in her tone. “Leave him alone!”

Draco grins nastily.

“Look, Potter. You’ve got yourself a girlfriend.” A silver-serpent-topped ebony cane taps him on the shoulder as a tall, silvery-haired gentleman who bears a striking resemblance to his son intervenes. Lucius Malfoy. Take my rotten luck and double it!

“Now now, Draco, play nicely,” he drawls, as his spawn shifts out of the way to go vandalize a book or something. I could swear I saw him ripping a page out of one earlier.

Lucius fixes Harry with an expression that might be considered charming if worn by anyone else. Instead, on him, it made him look predatory.

“Mr. Potter… “

He holds out a gloved hand.

“Lucius Malfoy. We meet at last.”

Harry takes it, shaking. If it was me, I’d count my fingers to make sure none of them have been suddenly removed. The entire Malfoy family line are snakes in the worst sense of the word!

 

 

“Forgive me.”

Lucius yanks Harry close, using his cane top to brush the boy’s hair out of view, exposing the lightning-bolt scar.

“Your scar is legend, as, of course, is the wizard who gave it to you.”

Harry stares up at Lucius.

“Voldemort killed my parents.”

Pulling himself free, he steps back.

“He was nothing more than a murderer.”

 

Lucius’ expression doesn’t change.

“Hmm. You must be very brave to mention his name, or very foolish.”

A grin starts to spread across his face, one that speaks not of amusement, but of sinister dealings and underground plots.

“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself.”

Both I and Hermione say it at the exact same time, sharing a brief look of scholarly glee.

Lucius barely spares me a glance. We’ve met often enough at my parents’ soirees, that he doesn’t feel too secure in mocking me. The Noble House of Darcy is a match for the Malfoys in status, and in power. Instead, he turns to Hermione.

And you must be Miss Granger. Yes, Draco’s told me all about you and your parents. Muggles, aren’t they?”

Hermione looks towards a nice-looking pair, and I wish I could actually have the chance to meet them. I bet they’re as nice as Hermione. Her expression promises discomfort towards whoever speaks ill of them, and Lucius turns to the rest of our gathering.

“Let me see… red hair, vacant expressions…”

He reaches into Ginny’s cauldron.

“Tatty, secondhand book… you must be the Weasleys.”

 

Mr Weasley joins us, looking a little befuddled by the busyness.

“Children, it’s mad in here! Let’s go outside.”

Lucius’ eyes narrow almost imperceptibly.

“Well, well, well… Weasley senior.”

 

Arthur straightens up and gives the other wizard a calculating look.

“Lucius.”

 

“Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur, all those extra raids? I do hope they’re paying you overtime, but, judging by the state of this-” he waggles the book he’d swiped from Ginny. “-I’d say not.”

He leans in, dropping the book back into Ginny’s cauldron.

“What’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

 Arthur’s expression is ice cold.

“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy.”

 

“Clearly. Associating with Muggles… and I thought your family could sink no lower.”

I bristle, having heard THAT rhetoric too many times to count from my own parents. Purists, those who would rather we either kill all Muggles or simply corral them into servants or expendable workers.  And, of course, the Malfoys are on the ‘Kill all Muggles’ bandwagon.

 

“I’ll see you at work.” Lucius sneers, and turns to leave.

Draco follows, spitting, “See you at school,” at Harry, then leaving, giving us all the stink-eye.

 

I grit my teeth. Merlin’s beard! I have never known an entire family that deserves a punch in the mouth more than the Malfoys! Smug, arrogant, deluded… UGH!

 

I spend the rest of the week with the Weasleys, and it’s so much nicer here! Ron’s lucky he has a loving family… ah well, at least more people here are aware and okay with me, so I can feel more relaxed! And, at the start of the next week, we pile into Arthur’s baby-blue Ford Anglia, and head to Charing Cross, driving the whole way.

As we load all our trunks onto trolleys, Arthur Weasley marches us along.

“10:58. Come on, come on!”

Molly clucks, “The train will be leaving any moment!”

“Fred, George, Percy! You first!”

 

The three boys head straight for the pillar between Platform 9 and Platform 10, vanishing through it as soon as they aren’t being watched.

Ginny goes next, and I follow, waving goodbye to Molly and Arthur, before I emerge onto Platform 9 and 3/4. They follow to help their only daughter get situated, and I spot a familiar figure. Hermione waves at me, leaning out of a carriage doorway, a package under her arm. I hurry over and she helps me load my trunk onto the overhead luggage compartment. As she uses some neat little spell to fog up the windows, I quickly pull out the bottle of Polyjuice potion, add the hair twist and shake it vigorously.

As I drink a third of the bottle once it’s changed colour, I feel my body warping and shifting, my hair growing several inches to reach my hips, turning black as night, my eyes glinting blue now, and my clothes now fitting worse than they used to. I quickly dress in my REAL uniform, brushing my skirt into place as I pull my hair into a long ponytail, before hunkering down and hoping to avoid Mr and Mrs Weasley spotting me when Hermione’s fog charm fades.

As the Hogwarts Express sounds its whistle, preparing to depart, I blink, then realise something is awry.

“Hermione… where are Ron and Harry?!”

 

The train shudders, before it pulls away from the station, starting to move, and we share a horrorstruck look, before bolting from our seat and heading up and down the length of the carriage, as far as we can go, searching for any trace of our missing friends.

However, while I’m hunting for the two boys, I bump into Luna Lovegood, the ash-blonde girl from Ravenclaw. She looks up into my face since I have a couple of inches on her height-wise, and then leans in, putting her face right up to mine, her breath mingling with mine as she stares at me.

“I was right… I DO know you… you are Max, and the boy was Max. Max and Max… “

I stiffen. What?! Did she figure that out on her own, based solely on the brief moments we’d bumped into each other, and mere conjecture?! Ah, I’m in for it now!

 

I bite my lip as Luna slowly draws her face back from mine.

“Also, you’re blushing a lot, so I’m beginning to think you’re attracted to girls.”

She turns and wanders away, leaving me very confused and lost for words. Hermione finds me, still standing in the same spot, somewhere around twenty minutes later.

“I haven’t found them, and no-one’s even seen them-! Um, Maxine? Helloooooo? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

She escorts me back to our cabin, and I sit, Mini leaping up onto the bench, then onto my lap, where she curls up and baps me with her tail a few times. I look up at Hermione.

“Well… I ran into this Ravenclaw girl, Luna Lovegood? And she seemed to have figured out the truth about me, but she was really cryptic so I can’t be sure. Then she got right up in my face and told me she thought I might be attracted to girls because I was blushing?”

Hermione giggles.

“Ohhh, really? I already noticed that! It’s kind of obvious, if you pay attention!”