The Plane Merchant of Hogwarts

"See you at Hogwarts!" The tall but pitiful Hagrid finally freed himself from Mrs. Weasley's hand, and he quickly escaped in a hurry, but he did not forget to wave goodbye to everyone.

He was a head and a shoulder taller than everyone else on the street, making him stand out.

"Guess who I saw in the Borgin Burke store?"

As he walked up the steps of Gringotts, Harry told his friends what he had just seen and heard with a mysterious look on his face. "Malfoy and his father!"

Harry began to recall what had just been an experience that was not particularly pleasant or novel:

When he got up from the cold ground, he sadly discovered that he had gone to the wrong place.

But this must be because he ate too much in the morning, which made him feel nauseous and dizzy. Harry secretly made up his mind to eat less in advance the next time he used the Floo Network.

He climbed up carefully and raised the broken glasses to his eyes, so that he could finally see the scene in front of him clearly. However, where this place was was beyond his scope of cognition.

He felt as if he were standing in front of the stone fireplace of a large, dark wizard's shop, but nothing here seemed likely to be on a Hogwarts shopping list.

He looked around. On the cushion in a glass box next to him, there was a withered human hand, a stack of blood-stained cards and a dull glass eyeball.

A ferocious mask stared down at the wall, various human bones were placed on the counter, and rusty, tooth-like instruments hung from the ceiling.

Worse, Harry could tell that the dark, narrow alley outside the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley.

Harry whispered: "Get out of here as soon as possible!" His nose was still burning with pain, but he did not dare to stay too long, and quickly and quietly walked towards the door.

But things often don't go as expected. Before he got halfway, two people appeared outside the door, one of whom was Harry's little friend: Draco Malfoy.

The man behind him was his father at first glance, because he had the same pale pointed face and golden hair as Malfoy.

He wanted to say hello to Malfoy cheerfully, but he saw Mr. Malfoy with a cold face beside him. It seemed that he was very unhappy?

He suddenly realized that his current image was not suitable for meeting Malfoy's family.

Moreover, Mr. Malfoy doesn't seem to be in a very good mood. If he thinks I am a sloppy child, will he ask Malfoy to stay away from me?

Harry quickly looked around and saw a large black cabinet on the left. He ducked in and closed the door, leaving only a small crack. A few seconds later, the bell rang and Malfoy and his father walked in.

into the store.

Mr. Malfoy walked across the shop, looked lazily at the items on display, rang the bell on the counter, then turned to his son and said, "Don't touch anything, Draco."

Malfoy was about to reach out and touch the glass eyeball when he said aggrievedly: "I thought you were going to buy me a gift."

"I mean I want to buy you a competition broom," his father said, tapping his finger on the counter.

"What's the point of buying a broom if I'm not a member of the house team?" Malfoy said angrily, "Harry got a Nimbus 2000 last year, and Dumbledore authorized him to represent Gryffindor House in the competition.

Although I admit that he is very powerful, I don’t think I am worse than him! The seeker in our college is like a blind man, I will definitely be able to defeat Gryffindor!"

Malfoy said with a straight face as he bent down to carefully inspect the skulls on a shelf full of skulls.

"You have told me at least ten times," Mr. Malfoy glanced at his son to stop him from continuing, "I want to remind you that in principle, first-year wizards are not allowed to participate in Quidditch matches.

Instead of these meaningless complaints, you should think more about why you were not selected by Severus to participate in Quidditch early! Ah, Mr. Borgin."

Just when Lucius was teaching his ignorant and foolish son, a hunched man appeared behind the counter, stroking back his shiny hair with his hands.

"Mr. Malfoy, it's so nice to see you again," said Mr. Borkin in a voice as smooth as his hair.

"It's a great honor to welcome you, and Master Malfoy, welcome. What can I do for you? I must show you, what I just entered today..."

"I'm not buying anything today, Mr. Borgin. I'm here to sell something." Mr. Malfoy quickly stopped Mr. Borgin's sales.

"Selling something?" Mr. Borgin, who was originally smiling, slightly reduced the smile after hearing Lucius's words.

"You must have heard that the ministry has stepped up checks recently." Mr. Malfoy said, taking out a roll of parchment from the inner pocket of his clothes and unfolding it for Mr. Borgin to see.

"I have some things at home that might cause me inconvenience, so if the Ministry comes..." Mr. Borkin put on a pair of pince-nez, looked down at the list, and then ignored what Lucius said next.

"I don't think the Ministry will bother you, sir?" Mr. Borkin interrupted what Lucius wanted to say next. Mr. Malfoy curled his lips and then closed his mouth.

Malfoy looked at his father curiously. He had never seen him be so careful with anyone before. It seemed that Mr. Borgin was not simple.

"I haven't been here yet. Malfoy's name still has some prestige, but the Ministry is getting more and more nosy. It is said that a new "Muggle Protection Act" will be introduced. I think the Ministry's attitude towards Muggles

It’s obviously wrong!”

"Can you show me that?" Draco asked Mr. Borgin, pointing to the withered human hand on the mat.

"Ah, the hand of glory!" Mr. Borgin saw that there seemed to be a business, and immediately dropped Mr. Malfoy's order and ran to Draco.

"Put in a candle, and only the person holding it can see the light! It is the best friend of thieves and robbers! Your son is very discerning, sir."

"I hope my son will be more promising than thieves and robbers, Borgin." Mr. Malfoy was very unhappy after hearing this, and said coldly, not even using him as a gentleman.

Mr. Borgin said immediately: "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean that."

"But if his grades don't improve," Mr. Malfoy said in a colder tone, "he might just do those things."

"It's not my fault," Draco retorted, "Rolfe is so awesome, he simply..."

"Aren't you good friends? Why can he be first, but I can't find you in front? Can't you ask him for more advice?

Besides, except for Scamander, any Muggle-born wizard can be far ahead, so you always have an excuse!" Mr. Malfoy said angrily.

"Haha!" Seeing Draco's embarrassed and annoyed look, Harry almost laughed out loud. It turned out that Malfoy, a classmate who had always been very elegant, easy-going and aristocratic, was so embarrassed like this?

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