After a pleasant dinner at the Burrow, everyone drifted off to their own activities.
Mrs. Weasley busied herself tidying the kitchen, while Mr. Weasley gestured animatedly at a pile of Ministry papers.
George and Fred whisked Harry and Ron upstairs to show off their latest bizarre inventions.
In the sitting room, Ginny and Hermione huddled together in a corner, whispering behind cupped hands and occasionally giggling or blushing.
Kevin and Percy carried two chairs outside to enjoy the fresh air. Kevin was curious about second-year life at Hogwarts and peppered Percy with questions.
As a steady and knowledgeable Gryffindor prefect, Percy had more insight into the school's workings than most, and Kevin was eager to hear it.
Percy confirmed that the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor would be none other than Gilderoy Lockhart—celebrated author and supposed adventurer.
Kevin, remembering Lockhart's antics from the films of his previous life, was unimpressed.
Hermione, while still admiring Lockhart's stories, seemed less starstruck than her movie counterpart—perhaps thanks to Kevin's influence. He decided not to burst her bubble; she would find out soon enough.
"So… we're actually going to have to buy a stack of Lockhart's storybooks as textbooks?" Kevin asked in disbelief.
Percy shrugged. "Looks that way."
Kevin wasn't about to waste his studies on what he considered fluff. He quickly wrote to Professor Snape, asking for recommendations for proper Defence Against the Dark Arts materials, and sent the letter off by owl.
His plan was to buy Snape's recommended books for himself, Harry, and Hermione, and gift extra copies to the other Weasleys as thanks for their hospitality.
When Percy heard this, he was genuinely grateful. "I've heard of you, you know—Snape's apprentice, the youngest potions prodigy in years. I'd be honoured to have one."
Days passed in a happy blur.
Kevin, Harry, and Hermione enjoyed the change from city life—fishing by the river with Ron, exploring the nearby woods, and listening to Mr. Weasley's enthusiastic explanations of magical artefacts.
Two days before term, the Hogwarts book lists arrived by owl. As expected, Lockhart's titles filled the Defence section. Kevin exchanged a helpless glance with Percy.
The next morning, they dressed for a trip to Diagon Alley. Ginny, about to start her first year, was especially excited.
Kevin wore the new cloak Hermione had given him; she immediately regretted its flashy design when everyone stared.
At the fireplace, Mrs. Weasley explained the Floo Network. Ron went first, disappearing in a swirl of green flames after calling "Diagon Alley."
Kevin quietly warned Harry to pronounce it clearly—he didn't want him ending up in Knockturn Alley by mistake.
Harry took the advice to heart and made it through without incident.
Once they regrouped in Diagon Alley, Kevin nudged Harry. "Why not get Ginny a little something to congratulate her on starting at Hogwarts?"
Harry, ever literal, ended up buying her an owl. Ginny was delighted; Hermione shot Kevin a look that clearly said, Stop meddling.
At Flourish and Blotts, a crowd had gathered for Gilderoy Lockhart's signing of Magical Me. Mrs. Weasley eagerly joined the queue.
From the second floor, Draco Malfoy spotted Kevin. Their relationship had softened since caring for Norbert the dragon together, though Draco's arrogance remained. After a bit of teasing, they joined the crowd inside.
Lockhart, spotting Harry, hauled him onto the stage for a photo and gifted him a full set of his books.
While Harry endured the attention, Kevin quietly picked out the serious Defence books Snape had recommended. Draco, curious, admitted the list looked far more useful than Lockhart's fluff.
As they left, Draco teased Harry about Ginny, earning a sharp retort. Their bickering was interrupted by a smooth, cold voice.
"Oh, Draco," it drawled, "how wonderful that you and Harry Potter are getting along so well."
Lucius Malfoy stepped into view—tall, pale, and dangerously composed. His cold grey eyes settled on Harry like a serpent sizing up its prey.
"Mr. Potter…" he said softly, and the air in the shop seemed to chill.