Chapter 40: The Chamber of Secrets [Side Story]

The Tale of Draco’s Burden: Knockturn Alley Arc

Harry was utterly at a loss. Having walked through Diagon Alley several times before, he realized almost instantly—he had made a mistake.

Rising from the cold stone fireplace, he looked around what appeared to be a shop. It was exactly how a Muggle would imagine a shop for the Dark Arts! The shelves were lined with items that screamed of it.

Sinister masks, a cursed hand, a necklace that killed any who touched it—

Feeling a chill crawl down his spine, Harry looked toward the exit, realizing he had to get out of there. But in an instant, he instinctively dove into a large black cabinet standing right behind him. It was pure reflex.

—A man who looked as though his very blood ran cold.

Pale skin, grey eyes, and blonde hair slightly thinner than the boy Harry knew. Harry recognized him immediately. It was Draco’s father.

"Draco, see that you do not touch anything in the shop."

"I understand, Father."

The person Harry had been thinking of was there, too. Harry couldn't shake a mounting sense of dread. Draco wasn’t the kind of person to dabble in the Dark Arts. How could someone who looked at Maria with such kind eyes be capable of anything cruel?

Draco didn’t belong here—and yet, surrounded by these eerie and terrifying objects, Draco looked strangely in his element. Harry felt a twinge of shame for even thinking it, for almost accepting that the setting suited him.

A shady-looking shopkeeper emerged from the back, fawning over Mr. Malfoy with desperate sycophancy. From their conversation, it seemed Mr. Malfoy had come to sell items that were no longer "convenient" to keep at home.

Meanwhile, Draco was surveying several items with a look of profound distaste. It was the kind of expression that said he never wanted to lay eyes on these things again.

And the item he seemed most repulsed by was—of all things—the very cabinet Harry was hiding in.

Draco approached. He scanned the cabinet’s frame and peered briefly behind it. And then—

"……Harry?"

"H-Hi, Draco."

He had been caught, plain and simple. Draco stood there, dumbfounded, at the sight of a pathetic Harry raising a hand in a weak wave. Then, as if realizing something, Draco muttered, "Surely not…"

"…How on earth did you end up like this?"

"Well, I was supposed to be going to Diagon Alley… but it was my first time using Floo powder…"

"You messed it up, then?"

"I think so…"

With a heavy sigh, Draco pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose before reaching in to pull Harry out of the cabinet.

"I’ll take you there."

"Oh, thanks. But, what about your father?"

"……Right."

As Draco used his sleeve to wipe the soot from Harry’s face, he noticed Harry’s glasses were cracked—likely broken during the rough landing. Taking the glasses from him, Draco walked with Harry toward his father.

"Father."

"Draco, as you can see, I am in the middle of a business transaction—and who is this?"

"This is Harry Potter."

"…………And why, pray tell, is he here?"

"It seems he had a mishap with some Floo powder. I intend to escort Mr. Potter to his intended destination; would you mind if I stepped away?"

Mr. Malfoy’s face visibly twitched. Harry thought idly to himself that both father and son certainly had easy-to-read expressions when they were annoyed.

"Ah… very well. See to it."

"Thank you, Father. Also, it appears Mr. Potter’s glasses are broken. If you wouldn't mind, could you fix them with your magic? I am, after all, still a Minor."

"D-Draco, you don't have to—"

Before Harry could finish his polite refusal, the glasses were transformed back to a brand-new state with a single flick of Mr. Malfoy’s wand.

"Oh, thank you… Mr. Malfoy."

"……Think nothing of it. It seems my Draco is in your debt. I trust the two of you… will continue to be on good terms."

The man seemed to be speaking through gritted teeth, but Harry didn't let it bother him and gave a bright smile.

"Yes! Draco is a really wonderful person, after all."

"…………"

"Let’s go, Harry."

"Oh, right. Goodbye, sir. Thank you again for fixing my glasses."

Leaving Mr. Malfoy behind with an expression that defied description, they stepped out of the shop. The sign identified it as Borgin and Burkes. Harry had thought the shop was creepy, but the surroundings were no better. The entire street felt sinister.

"For the record, I should explain. This is Knockturn Alley."

"Knockturn Alley…"

"At the very least, it is not the sort of place your lot should be wandering into."

Draco led the way, weaving through the winding, alley-like streets with ease. It was so disorienting that Harry knew he would have been hopelessly lost if Draco hadn't been holding his hand.

"…Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"—Do you have to come to places like that often?"

To Harry’s quiet question, Draco answered without stopping—and without looking back.

"—If the need arises."