There was a dreadful moment when the others thought that Kit might pounce on Draco and punch him.

At last, it was Narcissa who spoke to diffuse the tension. "Hello, Kit," she said gently, ignoring those with her. "How have you been?"

"I've been alright, godmother," she said simply. But her focus was not on Narcissa at all. The entire time, she was staring at Draco, who was desperately trying to get away from Madam Malkin, who was trying to get the pins out of his robes before he started tearing it off.

"Now, really, Mr. Malfoy, be patient!" the woman said, scurrying around trying to keep him from sending pins soaring through the air.

"Get them off, quickly!" said Draco impatiently, not even looking at Kit anymore.

"Oh please, don't be such a prat to her, she's trying to help you," said Kit sharply. Narcissa quite awkwardly turned to help her son, but by then, he'd moved far too much, and when Madam Malkin was attempting to fix the left sleeve, he let out a bellow of discomfort.

"Ouch!" he snapped, slapping her hand away. "Leave it— I'll get it off myself! On second thought, Mother, I don't want these anymore— let's get out of here!"

Madam Malkin looked terribly ashamed when he yanked the robes over his head and tossed them on the floor, angrily stomping on it before adjusting his clothes and glancing at Narcissa. "Mother, come on," he said, offering her his arm and strolling out without so much as a sideways look in Kit's direction.

The older woman began to fit them soon after, but Kit was hardly paying attention. She felt angry, confused, and overall, hurt. She knew why he was doing it, but it didn't stop her from being incredibly mad that it was happening in the first place. She fought back tears of frustration brimming in her eyes, and ignored the concerned stares that her friends were shooting her way.

"Got ev'rything?" asked Hagrid brightly when they reappeared at his side.

"Just about," said Harry, casting Kit a worried look. "Did you see the Malfoys?"

"Yeah," said Hagrid, unconcerned. "Bu they wouldn' dare make trouble in the middle o' Diagon Alley, Harry. Don' worry about them." From behind Hagrid, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley appeared with Ginny, all clutching heavy packages of books.

"Everyone all right?" said Mrs. Weasley. "Got your robes? Right then, we can pop in at the Apothecary and Eeylops on the way to Fred and George's...stick close, now..."

Hermione and Kit occupied themselves with getting ingredients at the Apothecary, while Ron and Harry bought large boxes of owl nuts for Hedwig and Pigwidgeon at Eeylops Owl Emporium. Then, with Mrs. Weasley checking her watch every minute or so, they headed farther along the street in search of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop run by Fred and George.

"We really haven't got too long," Mrs. Weasley said. "So we'll just have a quick look around and then back to the car. We must be close, that's number ninety-two...ninety-four..."

"Whoa," said Ron, stopping in his tracks.

Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop Fronts around them, Fred and Georges windows hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Kit's eyes began to water just looking at it, which wasn't helping the fact that she still was trying not to cry. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO? YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO — THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!

Harry and Kit started to laugh, but Mrs. Weasley let out a weak moan of fear, gazing, dumbfounded, at the poster. Her lips moved silently, mouthing the name 'U-No- Poo.'

"They'll be murdered in their beds!" she whispered.

"No they won't!" said Ron, who was also laughing. "This is brilliant!"

He and Harry led the way into the shop, Hermione and Kit following closely behind. It was packed with customers— there was no way they could get near the shelves. Boxes were piled up to the ceiling: Here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd, where a gaggle of delighted ten- year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: Reusable hangman - spell it or he'll swing!

"'Patented Daydream Charms...'" Hermione read off as she and Kit managed to squeeze through to a large display near the counter, on the back of a box bearing a highly colored picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship. "'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable— side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling. Not for sale to under-sixteens.'" She paused and looked up at Kit. "You know, that really is extraordinary magic!"

"For that, Hermione," said a voice behind the two girls, "you can have one for free."

A beaming Fred stood before them, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair. "How are you, Kit?" They shook hands. "And what's happened to your eye, Hermione?" He gazed at the bruise that Hermione had had for quite a few days already.

"Your punching telescope," she said ruefully.

"Oh blimey, I forgot about those," said Fred. "Here —" He pulled a tub out of his pocket and handed it to her; she unscrewed it gingerly to reveal a thick yellow paste.

"Just dab it on, that bruise'll be gone within the hour," said Fred. "We had to find a decent bruise remover. We're testing most of our products on ourselves."

Hermione looked nervous. "It is safe, isn't it?" she asked.

"Course it is," said Fred bracingly. "Come on, Harry, I'll give you a tour..." he reached his arm toward where Harry was, behind the girls.

Kit, meanwhile, helped Hermione get the paste on all the bruised parts of her eye. Ginny came closer and observed the Patented Daydream Charms herself. "Blimey, these sound amazing..."

"I'd certainly like to have a few of those so that I can forget Draco's bullshit," Kit muttered.

"What happened?" asked Ginny.

"He acted as though I wasn't right in front of him at Madam Malkin's! It was so embarrassing— he looked right through me."

Ginny growled. "That prat. You should punch his face in with a Quaffle."

"I'm considering it," sighed Kit. "I wish he'd acknowledge I was there. But not even that..."

The twins returned from their tour with Harry and came upon the girls. "Haven't you found our special WonderWitch products yet?" asked Fred. "Follow me, ladies..." Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. The trio hung back, looking wary.

"There you go," said Fred proudly. "Best range of love potions you'll find anywhere."

Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Do they work?" she asked.

"Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question..."

"...and the attractiveness of the girl," said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. "But we're not selling them to our sister," he added, becoming suddenly stern, "not when she's already got about five boys on the go from what we've..."

"Whatever you've heard from Ron is a big fat lie," said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf. "What's this?"

"Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher," said Fred. "Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don't change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?"

"Yes, I am," said Ginny. "And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?" She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.

"Pygmy Puffs," said George. "Miniature puffskeins, we can't breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?"

"I dumped him, he was a bad loser," said Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. "They're really cute!"

"They're fairly cuddly, yes," conceded Fred. "But you're moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren't you?"

Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Kit was surprised Fred didn't recoil. "It's none of your business. And I'll thank you" she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George's elbow, laden with merchandise, "not to tell tales about me to these two!"

"That's three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut," said Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron's arms. "Cough up."

"I'm your brother!"

"And that's our stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I'll knock off the Knut."

"But I haven't got three Galleons, nine Sickles!"

"You'd better put it back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves."

Ron dropped several boxes, swore, and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately spotted by Mrs. Weasley, who had chosen that moment to appear. "If I see you do that again I'll jinx your fingers together," she said sharply.

"Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?" said Ginny at once.

"A what?" said Mrs. Weasley warily.

"Look, they're so sweet..."

Mrs. Weasley moved aside to look at the Pygmy Puffs, and Kit moved back out of the way, turning to look out the window and catching a glimpse of Draco. Harry had seen him too, and she felt him come up beside her, watching as Draco passed, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, glanced over his shoulder, and he moved beyond the scope of the window and they lost sight of him.

"Wonder where his mummy is?" said Harry, frowning. "What business has he got giving her the slip and ignoring you, Kit?"

"I dunno," said Kit. "But it's whatever— let him do what he pleases. If he wants to play that game, let him piss off, for all I care...:"

But Harry, it seemed had made up his mind. "Get under here, quick," he said, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag.

"Oh— I don't know, Harry," said Hermione, looking uncertainly toward Mrs. Weasley. "Besides, Kit just wants to let him be..."

"Come on," said Ron, urging the two. "Let's just take a peek."

Albeit hesitantly, Hermione and Kit ducked under the cloak with Harry and Ron. Nobody noticed them vanish; they were all too interested in Fred and George's products. The four squeezed their way out of the door as quickly as they could, but by the time they gained the street, Malfoy had disappeared just as successfully as they had.

"He was going in that direction," murmured Harry as quietly as possible, so that the humming Hagrid would not hear them. "C'mon."

They scurried along, peering left and right, through shop windows and doors, until Hermione pointed ahead. "That's him, isn't it?" she whispered. "Turning left?"

"Big surprise," said Ron, since Draco had just turned into Knockturn Alley. Kit felt her heart hammer into her chest as they followed, speeding up. It was just dawning on her that it was risky for the Gryffindor trio to be here, witnessing this. She didn't think they should be involved in such things— they could get hurt.

Draco had gone into Borgin and Burke's, which made Kit's heart rate speed up even more. From where they were crouched, the Slytherin's blonde head was barely visible over a large black cabinet inside the shop. They couldn't hear him, but he was talking animatedly with his hands, looking distressed, and like whatever matter he had presented, was very urgent. Across from him stood the proprietor of the shop, Mr. Borgin, an oily-haired man, who wore an expression of mingled resentment and fear.

"If only we could hear what they're saying!" said Hermione.

"We can!" said Ron excitedly. "Hang on, damn." He dropped a couple more of the boxes he was still clutching as he fumbled with the largest. "Extendable Ears, look!"

"Fantastic!" said Hermione, as Ron unraveled the long, flesh-colored strings and began to feed them toward the bottom of the door. "Oh, I hope the door isn't Imperturbable..."

"No!" said Ron gleefully. "Listen!"

They put their heads together and listened intently to the ends of the strings, through which Draco's voice could be heard loud and clear, as though a radio had been turned on.

"...you know how to fix it?"

"Possibly," said Borgin, in a tone that suggested he was unwilling to commit himself. "I'll need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it into the shop?"

"I can't," said Draco. "It's got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it."

"Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn't guarantee anything."

"No?" sneered Draco. "Perhaps this will make you more confident."

He moved forward toward Borgin, and was blocked from their view by the cabinet. Kit and the others shimmied forward, but they couldn't see what Draco was doing, just that Borgin was very frightened. With a sinking sensation in her stomach, Kit had a feeling what Draco was showing to him. The Dark Mark— surely he had been branded by now.

"Tell anyone," said Draco in a low voice, "and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend. He'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention."

"There will be no need for..."

"I'll decide that. Well, I'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that one safe, I'll need it."

"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?"

"No, of course I wouldn't, you stupid, little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it."

"Of course not...sir."

"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?"

"Naturally, naturally," murmured Borgin, bowing to him.

They leapt back as Draco stepped out of the shop, looking pleased with himself, the bell over the door tinkling loudly as he exited. He passed so close to the four that they felt the cloak flutter around their knees. Inside the shop, Borgin remained frozen; his unctuous smile had vanished; he looked worried.

"What was that about?" whispered Ron, reeling in the Extendable Ears.

"Dunno," said Harry. "He wants something mended...and he wants to reserve something in there...Could you see what he pointed at when he said 'that one'?"

"No, he was behind that cabinet..."

"You three stay here," whispered Hermione, apparently having some sort of plan.

"What are you...?"

But Hermione had already ducked out from under the cloak. She checked her hair in the reflection in the glass, then marched into the shop, setting the bell tinkling again. Ron hastily fed the Extendable Ears back under the door and passed one of the strings to Harry and Kit.

"Hello, horrible morning, isn't it?" Hermione said brightly to Borgin, who did not answer, but cast her a suspicious look. Humming cheerily, Hermione strolled through the jumble of objects on display. "Is this necklace for sale?" she asked, pausing beside a glass-fronted case.

"If you've got one and a half thousand Galleons," said Mr. Borgin coldly.

"Oh...er...no, I haven't got quite that much," said Hermione, walking on. "And...what about this lovely...um...skull?"

"Sixteen Galleons."

"So it's for sale, then? It isn't being...kept for anyone?"

Mr. Borgin squinted at her. Kit had the nasty feeling he knew exactly what Hermione was up to, and she wished Hermione had said something before barging in. Thankfully, the brunette sensed his suspicion and threw caution to the winds, but not in the way that she would have thought to be wise.

"The thing is, that...er...boy who was in here just now, Draco Malfoy, well, he's a friend of mine, and I want to get him a birthday present, but if he's already reserved anything, I obviously don't want to get him the same thing, so...um..."

Harry, Ron, and Kit shared an absolutely mortified look as Borgin's face contorted angrily. "Out!" he said sharply. "Get out!"

Hermione did not wait to be asked twice, but hurried to the door with Borgin at her heels. As the bell tinkled again, Borgin slammed the door behind her and put up the closed sign.

"Ah well," said Ron, throwing the cloak back over Hermione. "Worth a try, but you were a bit obvious..."

"Well, next time you can show me how it's done, Master of Mystery!" she snapped.

"You didn't even give us a bloody chance to do anything!" said Kit a bit harshly, feeling riled up. Draco was ignoring her and doing some Death Eater task already, and now, Hermione was acting offended for having tried to gain intel in the lamest way possible. "Don't you think it might have been smarter for me to go in? Borgin knows my father! One mention of that name and he might've told me exactly what Draco was up to! Ugh— this is stupid, nevermind."

She got out from under the Cloak the instant they were out of Knockturn Alley and walked quickly back toward Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, where Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Hagrid were looking around— clearly having noticed their absence. Kit was yanked back under the Cloak before she was spotted, and Harry urged them back into the shop, moving quickly behind one of the aisles and tucking the Cloak back into his bag before urging them to get up and exit.

"Oh, Harry, dear!" cried Mrs. Weasley. "Where were the four of you?"

"Er— we were in the back room, looking at some merchandise," said Harry smoothly, clearly already having prepared a lie. "Sorry, we should have said something."

The woman didn't question it, and instead beckoned them back toward the Leaky Cauldron, where Mr. Weasley was waiting with the Ministry car. They piled back in, now with all their supplies, and returned to the Burrow, where Lupin was waiting for them.

"I've come to take Kit back to Grimmauld Place," said Lupin, ruffling Harry's hair once they stepped out of the vehicle.

"Alright, then," said Mr. Weasley. "Got everything you needed, Kit?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, though she knew he had noticed how nervous she looked. Ginny handed her the textbooks they'd gotten for her, and she tucked them under her arm with the other things she'd purchased, taking Lupin's arm and allowing him to apparate the two of them back to Grimmauld Place. They had entered quietly enough that thankfully, Mrs. Black hadn't gone off screaming at them.

"Kit!" said Sirius cheerfully, coming into the hall from the kitchen, his face covered in a white powdery substance. "Came just in time, the cake is almost ready to eat."

"Cake?" she inquired