Chapter 89 — Teeth in the Bookshop

I heard Ron before I saw him. Something ginger shot across the Leaky Cauldron’s floor, and his demand that Hermione keep hold of it reached the doorway just as Luna and I stepped inside.

Hermione caught a trailing lead while Ron pulled Scabbers against his chest and backed into a chair. The cat at the other end was large, flat-faced and determined to continue. I picked up the open carrier beside Hermione’s feet and held its door steady so she could guide him in.

He objected throughout the process. Ron accused him of trying to eat Scabbers, and Hermione said she had seen before shutting the door rather harder than necessary. She had not let him go, she added; he had pulled away.

‘That’s not much help to Scabbers,’ Ron said, protecting the rat with both hands. Hermione looked at him, and some of the anger left her face as she asked whether Scabbers was hurt.

Ron checked before answering. The rat seemed frightened but whole and buried himself against his sleeve, while the cat watched through the carrier door. I suggested keeping them apart until we had at least managed breakfast.

Hermione said Crookshanks was not usually like this. Ron seemed unconvinced, but lowered Scabbers enough to examine him once more as Harry came down the stairs behind them. He was smiling at something I had missed.

‘You’ve arrived just in time,’ he told us. I asked whether he meant for an argument, and he called it a reunion which happened to include one. Hermione hugged me once she had a hand free, then checked the carrier fastening again.

Ron clapped my shoulder and began describing how much he had missed proper English food. Under questioning, he admitted that he had enjoyed most of what they ate in Egypt. Luna greeted them both, receiving Hermione’s thanks for the letter she had sent about Harry’s birthday.

Ron glanced at our joined hands, then at me. I asked him to save it for later, and he protested that he had said nothing. I told him I was appreciating the interval while Molly moved the loose luggage out of everybody’s way.

The Weasleys still had shopping to finish. Molly wanted Scabbers secure before Ron went anywhere with the cat, and he found a suitable box among his things instead of returning the rat to his shoulder. Hermione explained that she had bought Crookshanks in a magical shopping street in France, where the seller said he had Kneazle ancestry.

‘He was very affectionate with me,’ she added, watching him watch Ron’s box. Ron said he had not doubted that part. Harry picked up her smaller bag, and I noticed that he carried none of the luggage I would have expected after a journey from Surrey.

I asked where his things were. ‘Upstairs. I’m staying here,’ he replied, then caught my expression and added that he was all right. He had arrived last night, and the Ministry knew where he was.

That explained why he did not need us to hide him, but little else. He offered to tell us over breakfast, so I sent him ahead with Ron and Hermione to the Extra Sunday. Luna and I needed to collect our books on the way and would follow in a few minutes.

‘Have something brought to the table straight away,’ I added. Harry assured me that he had planned to, and I waited until they were on their way before unfolding my school list. Under Care of Magical Creatures stood a title I did not recognise: The Monster Book of Monsters.

I thought it sounded promising. Luna glanced at the page and asked whether I was sure, making me explain that it was an improvement on another book about medieval legislation. She suspected I would regret the comparison.

‘You haven’t read it,’ I pointed out. She agreed that she had not and offered a small bet that I would dislike it, at least initially. I accepted quickly enough to make her look at me, then explained that confidence was an important part of being wrong.

We were approaching Flourish and Blotts when a scraping sound came from inside, followed by a shout. The door opened hard, making Luna step aside before the customer behind it reached the pavement. I pulled back too, leaving him room to hurry past with a parcel clutched to his chest.

He apologised without slowing down. Inside, torn paper covered part of the floor, and Tom and two assistants were positioning an iron cage near the counter. Something inside made a grinding noise like a saw being sharpened with teeth.

Stolen from NovelPhoenix, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I asked whether anyone was hurt. ‘Only a sleeve, Mr Mercer, and some stock,’ Tom said, looking up as one of the things in the cage threw itself against the bars. I moved closer and discovered that it was a book.

Hair covered the binding, with several small eyes glaring above a mouthful of teeth. Another copy tried to climb over it, starting an attempt to chew each other which did little for my opinion of the title. Luna touched my sleeve and observed that the bet had been settled rather quickly.

I reserved the right to enjoy the contents. She pointed out that I might first have to get past their owner, and I looked back at Tom, who was rubbing the bridge of his nose.

The copies had been brought up to fill Hogwarts orders. They were supposed to stay secured until a member of staff demonstrated how to open them, he explained, but a customer had unfastened one for a look. Catching it disturbed several others, producing the mess across the floor.

‘They calm if you stroke the spine,’ he said, bringing a bound copy from behind the counter. He kept its jaws turned away and moved a finger gently down the middle of its back. The grinding stopped, and the book relaxed enough for him to open it.

It looked almost ordinary until an eye shifted towards me. I kept my hands clear and asked for the instructions to go on the wrapping, large enough to be noticed before the fastening. Someone also needed to demonstrate while the school orders were being collected.

Tom nodded and called an assistant over. I asked for another notice beside the cage; customers ought to discover how to handle the book before it bit something. The assistant went for card and ink while the other began separating damaged stock from what could be saved.

I helped move a torn display out of the way. The damage was my concern as the owner, but Tom had not invented a textbook with teeth. I asked whether the school had explained its choice, and he said the order had arrived with the list and no further account.

The subject heading on mine was clear. Whatever explanation awaited us, this belonged to the creatures course rather than Defence. I put the list down beside my copy and watched its mouth close as Tom secured it again.

He had set aside the rest of my third-year books. Luna handed over her list for second year, and while he fetched the different titles I practised calming the bound Monster Book under his eye. A slow movement along the spine worked, provided I kept my fingers somewhere sensible. I needed no spell or inscription, which somehow made the whole business more irritating.

My purchases went on the account Emma and the administrators used for school expenses. Luna counted out her own money, and when Tom glanced towards me I nodded for him to take it. I collected my books with the newly written warning tied where I could not miss it.

Outside, I looked down at the securely strapped volume and admitted I had lost. Luna agreed, looking pleased enough for me to ask what penalty she intended. She wanted me to stop looking disappointed when she paid for her own books.

I asked whether I had been doing that. She raised the wrist with her new watch, letting me see it beside mine before taking my free hand.

‘I liked your present. I also like choosing what I pay for.’ I had known that, but apparently my face had asked the question again. I accepted the penalty and carried our conversation towards breakfast before another book could escape.

The Extra Sunday’s name began as a joke about wanting another day before Monday. The manager had kept the idea and made the room comfortable enough for people to linger, with the smell of toast reaching us before we found our table. Harry was eating with his shoulders bent towards the plate and little interest in the conversation beside him.

I sat opposite him while Luna took the chair next to mine. He reminded me that I had told him to order, and I expressed pleasure that somebody had listened for once. Hermione wanted to see our new books until I showed her the warning attached to mine.

She read it twice and decided the examination could wait until after the meal. Crookshanks’s carrier remained closed at her feet, well away from Ron’s box. He checked the box whenever the carrier made a noise, and I asked about Egypt before the sound could become another argument.

Ron began with Bill, moved on to tombs they had visited and described those they had been firmly forbidden to enter. His account of the protective magic was better than his claim that every interesting surface in the country was cursed. Hermione asked which examples he had seen himself, and he amended the claim without losing enthusiasm.

When I asked about his wand, he smiled immediately. ‘Got it. Chosen for me, and no tape.’ He touched the pocket where it lay without taking it out over the breakfast plates. After the shared school wand and all those careful returns at the end of lessons, his pleasure needed no explanation.

He unfolded a newspaper photograph of the family in Egypt. Luna asked which person was Bill, and Ron leaned across to show her while Hermione added something about objects she had seen in France. For a few minutes it felt like the train again, with more luggage and a cat who distrusted the arrangements.

When Harry pushed his plate away, I poured him tea. I asked what had happened last night, and he looked at the cup before saying that Aunt Marge had visited. She was Vernon’s sister, he explained, and had begun talking about his parents.

‘I tried to ignore her. I did, but she kept going, and then…’ His fingers tightened round the handle. ‘I didn’t mean to do it. She just swelled up, like a balloon.’

Ron stopped reaching for the toast and asked whether he meant she had actually swollen. Harry nodded, and I thought of how carefully he had held his father’s diary a month earlier. I asked whether anyone had been hurt before deciding what else we needed to know.

‘They’ve put her back,’ he said quickly. ‘She’s all right now.’ I moved the teapot out of the space between us and asked him to start at the beginning. We had time to hear it properly.