They still had two or three hours before the book signing ended — plenty of time to browse the shelves.
"It doesn't have as many books as our family library, but there are still a few titles we don't have in the collection," Kate remarked, picking up a copy of Lockhart's latest release, the one he was here to sign: Magical Me.
There was no denying that the stories inside were lively enough in their way — but it was, at best, a novel to pass the time. For someone who had read hundreds upon hundreds of web novels in a previous life, the plot didn't even qualify as fresh.
If it weren't for the word "autobiography" slapped on the cover…
She stood on the second floor, leaning against the railing, looking down at Lockhart as he worked the crowd with boundless enthusiasm.
Oh, right. She'd almost forgotten.
The man's "autobiography" had been built on stealing real experiences from other people, erasing their memories with the Memory Charm, and claiming all the glory for himself. Aside from a genuinely impressive command of the Memory Charm and a writing style that was passable at best, this specimen was, in every other respect, utterly worthless.
"You know, this book has been number one on the Daily Prophet bestseller list for twenty-seven weeks straight," Hermione said, still tirelessly making her case.
Kate sighed and was about to respond when a voice drifted over from the direction of the staircase — the same mocking tone as always.
"Sounds about right. This kind of low-brow bathroom reading suits you perfectly, Granger." Malfoy's habitually pale face was shadowed with displeasure as she descended the stairs and strolled toward them.
Hermione fired back without a moment's hesitation. "Do you even hear yourself? Lockhart's books are this year's set texts at Hogwarts. Are you saying every student who uses them has terrible taste? Or that the professors who assigned them do?"
"You—!" Malfoy pressed her lips together, a faint flush of irritation rising on her pale cheeks.
Kate glanced at Hermione with mild surprise.
One month of lessons with Katherine, and the girl's talent for a cutting comeback had improved considerably.
Still, this wasn't the moment to let these two go at each other in the middle of a bookshop. She stepped forward and positioned herself between them.
"Malfoy. Two months since we last saw each other — looks like you've grown quite a bit."
She had, genuinely. Though there was still nearly half a head of height between them.
"Hmph." Malfoy gave a short, dismissive sound. "Trying to play peacemaker, Shafiq?" The words were sharp, but the bite behind them had noticeably softened.
Kate could see things settling — she was just about to steer the conversation further away when Malfoy's expression shifted to something unpleasant, and she spoke again.
"By the way, Granger — do you know who Shafiq was talking to at the street corner just now?"
"What?" Hermione's brow furrowed slightly.
Kate felt a flicker of unease herself. Surely not — had Malfoy spotted her running into Luna's family earlier?
"Heh." Satisfied at the shift in both their expressions, Malfoy let out a quiet laugh, turned on her heel with unmistakable smugness, and headed back down the stairs.
"Wait!" Hermione moved to follow, but Malfoy paid her no mind whatsoever, slipping into the crowd on the ground floor and vanishing from sight within seconds.
She'd come all the way up here just to say something cryptic and walk away? What was that supposed to accomplish?
Kate had gone two months without dealing with her, and she suddenly found she couldn't follow the other girl's logic at all.
But before she could work it out, Hermione turned to face her, looking thoroughly puzzled. "Who were you talking to at the corner?"
"Ah…" Kate hesitated, then explained a little awkwardly, "There was just a father and daughter who noticed I was standing a bit close to Knockturn Alley and told me to step back. That's all."
Every word of that was true, and she genuinely didn't see anything wrong with saying it.
Even so, Hermione's brow stayed knitted with uncertainty. "If that's really all it was, then why did Malfoy bother saying anything?"
How was she supposed to know that?
On instinct, Kate carefully took Hermione's small hand in hers. "Surely you're not going to stop trusting me over one remark from Malfoy?"
"Of course I trust you. I just think it's strange that she brought it up out of nowhere."
The more Hermione thought about it, the stranger it seemed. On the surface it sounded like Malfoy trying to drive a wedge between them — but the more she turned it over, the more it felt less like sabotage and more like…
Jealousy?
That couldn't be right.
She tilted her head and studied Kate with a searching look.
"Hmm? Do I have something on my face?" Kate, still unaware of what was going through Hermione's mind, reached up absently to touch her own cheek.
Hermione was still hesitating over how to voice her suspicion when a burst of noise from the ground floor drew both their attention. Lockhart's voice, louder than usual, rang up through the shop.
They both listened for a moment, and the tense furrow between Hermione's brows finally eased.
"Did I hear that right? Lockhart is going to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"
Watching the cheers and applause breaking out below, Kate propped one hand on the railing and nodded without much feeling. "Well then — let's hope he makes it through the year."
Old Man Voldemort's curse cut down everything in its path. Every single person who had ever held the Defence Against the Dark Arts post met a grim end, one way or another. Even Lockhart's fate in the original story was, by that standard, among the better outcomes.
Then it hit her — and she straightened up abruptly, the casual spectator's air dropping away in an instant.
Katherine had been the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for two months. That meant she would have been touched by the curse too.
Damn it all. How had she managed to forget that?
"Hermione!" She grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "What magic did you learn at your aunt's place these past two months?"
"?" Hermione blinked, unable to follow the leap in logic. She stumbled over her words, trying to deflect. "That… I think I'd better tell you after school starts…"
She'd only just learned something new and powerful. She wasn't about to show it off casually in a place like this, even in front of Kate.
Kate bit her lip. Anxious as she was, she had no choice but to withdraw her hands for now.
Don't panic. It was already the second year, and generally speaking, a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher either met with disaster within that same year or had the curse catch up with them years down the line. Katherine had only held the post for two months, so the curse's hold on her should be weak. As long as Kate kept a close eye on things going forward, she ought to be able to steer her away from any real harm…
She was still running through her thoughts when another commotion erupted downstairs. Peering over the railing, she saw that the Weasley family and the Malfoys had gotten into a row — the two heads of household, Lucius and Arthur, squaring off at the center of it.
"Ron's dad and Malfoy's dad seem to have started a fight," Hermione murmured in her ear. "Should we go down?"
Kate narrowed her eyes. In the chaos, she caught sight of Lucius using the commotion as cover — he took Ginny's battered old textbook, tucked a diary that had appeared from nowhere alongside it, and slid the whole lot into her cauldron.
"No need," she said quietly. "They won't come to blows."
Sure enough, the next moment Lucius shot a cold, contemptuous parting remark at the room, then walked out of the shop with his son, leaving behind a scene of complete disorder.
The shop assistants scrambled to sort out the toppled shelves and damaged books from the scuffle. The Weasleys were beside themselves with fury.
"Sir — Madam," one brave shop assistant ventured, stepping forward. "For everything that was damaged—"
Kate steered Hermione down the stairs and cut across him. "Uncle, Auntie — once we've paid, we can all head out."
The Weasleys, who had been on the verge of simply marching out, suddenly remembered they hadn't actually paid for anything yet.
They hurriedly gathered the books from the children's cauldrons and piled them on the counter. The shop assistant glanced at Kate with uncertainty, and when she gave a small nod, he began ringing everything up one by one.
"Charge it to my account — and take thirty percent off."
Kate strolled up to the counter, picked up Ginny's Transfiguration textbook with one hand, and leaned in to murmur in the shop assistant's ear: "I'll cover the damages as well."
As she said it, she smoothly slipped the diary that had been tucked inside the textbook out and into her own robes.
Bill paid, they filed out of the shop. Kate spoke with a note of theatrical regret: "Because of all that chaos, it looks like Lockhart slipped out early."
"It's fine, you've already done so much for us," Ron said breezily, completely ignoring his mother's crestfallen expression.
Predictably, he received a flick on the forehead for it.
They said their goodbyes to the Weasleys and Harry by the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron. Kate then took a carriage to see Hermione safely home before finally making her way back to the Manor and shutting herself in her room.
Getting hold of the diary had always been part of the plan — she had walked into that bookshop knowing it, and had deliberately kept herself from interfering with any of the events as they unfolded.
In the original story, Lucius had been forced to move most of his Dark Arts collection out of the Manor to evade a Ministry raid. This diary was something Voldemort had personally left in his keeping. Lucius didn't fully understand how dangerous it was, but it was Voldemort's possession, and he hadn't dared be careless with it — so it had never been sold off.
Then the confrontation at Flourish and Blotts with the Weasleys had given him the perfect opening. Anger had done the rest, and he'd shoved the diary into Ginny's cauldron on impulse.
It was his petty revenge against Arthur Weasley for leading the raid on his home — and a way to pass the risk onto someone else entirely.
After all, who in their right mind would suspect that a polished, distinguished adult wizard had planted something on an eleven-year-old girl? Only someone like Kate, who knew exactly what was coming and had been watching his every move from the start.
Graceless. And vicious with it.
The fact that Lucius had never once considered what might happen to Ginny once she had the diary — or who else she might hurt — said everything about the kind of person he was. Honestly, how something like him had made it past the editorial board of a young adult novel was a mystery.
As for the diary sitting in front of her now — Kate wasn't foolish enough to open it and have a conversation with it without any precautions in place.
On the other hand, destroying it outright felt like a bit of a waste. It had taken some doing to get her hands on a genuine Horcrux of Voldemort's.
She rummaged through her coin purse for a moment and eventually turned up a small box that Nicolas Flamel usually used to store important alchemical items.
It was a small, square black box, no bigger than it needed to be, with a few elegant lines of gold filigree traced across its surface. The diary fit inside with room to spare.
The box itself was harmless enough, which was presumably why the old butler hadn't thought to confiscate it.
All she had to do was bring it to Hogwarts, spin Dumbledore a plausible little story, hand off the whole problem, and this year could proceed in blissful peace.
In a few quick movements she wrapped the diary and its box in three or four layers of precautionary packing, dropped the bundle into the innermost pocket of her coin purse, and let out a long, satisfied breath. She put the matter from her mind and went out to dinner.
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