Disclaimer: I think we all know by now that only a genius like Rowling could have thought up Harry Potter and surround him with the magic that we so love today.
A/N: Just finished the Deathly Hallows. My eyes are tired and I need sleep. .
WARNING, WARNING: Deathly Hallow spoilers. Come back when you've finished it.
Amidst all the noise emitted by the growing (and crowing) crowd of excited Potter fans in front of the London bookstore, nobody heard the crack as several non-Muggles Apparated into the location, not three feet away from them.
"See? Didn't I tell you?" said Ron in an I-told-you mocking tone. "I really did tell him, Mione. But he just wouldn't believe me."
Harry stood beside his two best friends. Dumfounded, was perhaps the best word to describe him.
The line extended from the front of the bookstore, which was still closed, up till the end of the street. At the front of the line, Harry could see people folding up their un-magical tents and pouring out some hot coffee from their flasks. They looked disheveled (and that was putting it lightly) and passing around sandwiches for breakfast.
"Don't tell me they actually slept in front of the bookstore," groaned Harry, grabbing the sides of his head in horror. "Didn't I say in chapter 36 of the last book that I already had enough trouble for a lifetime?"
"It doesn't matter to them, mate," said Ron, munching on a cookie he had snagged off the breakfast table at Hogwarts earlier. "They haven't gotten the last book yet. That's the reason they're all here, after all."
"Look, someone's coming out of the bookstore," said Hermione.
A tall man, wearing a bright purple constable uniform with the words The Knight Bus emblazoned over his left breast pocket, was unlocking the door of the bookstore from inside.
"Do all Muggle bookstore staff look that stupid?" asked Ron, genuinely curious.
"I think that's supposed to be a costume," answered Hermione.
Ron snorted. "So who's he supposed to be?"
"Taking a wild guess here, but I'm thinking Stan Shunpike," said Harry, stealing a cookie from Ron's hidden stash in his front robe pocket. Harry blanched when he spotted a piece of lint hanging off his chocolate chip cookie.
"Oh, look, everyone's going in. Let's follow them," said Hermione.
"So this is where you are!" exclaimed a voice, following a crack of Apparation. A furious-looking Draco Malfoy marched up to them. "The whole castle was searching for you! Everyone thought you were kidnapped by overzealous leftover Death Eaters!"
"Relax, Malfoy," said Ron coldly. "It's not your job to keep watch over us."
"Yes, it is!" said Malfoy, flushed. "If you go missing, everyone's going to suspect me again. Even though I killed nobody and tortured no one during the whole bloody war, everyone still thinks that I was Voldemort's right hand man."
This time, Harry snorted. "You? Voldemort's right-hand man? You'd be lucky if he ever gave you a mission!"
"Exactly!" said Draco waving his arms about in expression. "Now, if you would only explain that to the rest, then I can leave peacefully and live the rest of my life out in oblivion."
The war was over. Peace had come. The mention of Voldemort's name was about as taboo as shouting out Grindelwald's name; meaning not at all. The battle of Hogwarts had taken several weeks ago. And people who had stuck around at Hogwarts were now helping to rebuild the castle so that the school could be back in operation by the time September rolled by again.
"We are supposed to be working on fixing the west side of the castle today, so what do you think you three are doing out here in Muggle London?" demanded Malfoy.
"Being told off by Malfoy! And he's actually making sense! I thought I'd never see the day!" exclaimed Ron dramatically.
"Well, we'd just thought we'd show Harry the enormous crowd that had showed up just to buy the last book," said Hermione, pointing at the now overcrowded bookstore. "There were people camping here just to get the book."
"I want to go in," said Harry. "I want to see what it looks like inside." Then without asking opinions from the other three, he strode towards the bookstore.
The patrons of the bookstore were in frenzy. All around, Potter-esque decorations jumped out of them; whether it were signs painted over the bookshelves saying Flourish and Blotts or a tree made out of papier mache to represent the Whomping Wilow, they were excited. The staff of the bookstore had all dressed up as characters. Some of them had done it so well; Harry almost thought he saw Tonks weaving through the crowd, when he remembered with a pang that she was gone.
"Blimey, that costume is fantastic," greeted a female Muggle dressed up as McGonagall. Harry tried to block out a picture of the real Professor McGonagall saying 'blimey'. She ran a finger over Harry's scar. "Did you use tattoo ink?"
Harry backed away in surprise. "Uh – yeah. Tattoo ink."
"You even got the messy hair down!" said the Muggle McGonagall. "The customers are going to love you. Hey, why don't you work the counter?"
"No – I don't," protested Harry.
"If you don't work your share, you don't get paid," she said, pushing Harry behind the counter.
"And the rest of you," said Muggle McGonagall, eyeing Ron, Hermione and Draco, "just greet customers and act in character, okay? Today is going to mark literary history, I tell you."
When she left, Draco looked at Ron and Hermione with an eyebrow cocked. "Act in character?"
"Means, act yourself," said Hermione. "Come on, let's greet customers!"
"You're really having fun, aren't you?" asked Ron.
"This is stupid," said Draco with a scowl. "We ought to be heading back to Hogwarts before they think I'm out here preventing your return or something."
There was a loud squeal. Draco seized up, thinking momentarily of the months he spent witnessing victims being subjected to Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse. Before he knew what was happing, there were several young teenage girls pulling at his robe. Draco tried to conceal his wince.
In this post-war period, hatred towards Muggles was very looked down upon and could almost immediately end you up in front of the entire Wizengamot for questioning.
"You're Draco Malfoy, aren't you?" squealed one of the girls, pawing him.
Draco stiffened. How did they know? Wait a minute. Calm down, Draco. They think you're a Muggle in costume. That's all. None of them know that you truly exist.
"Yes, how can I help you?" he forced out through gritted teeth.
"Is it true that you and Harry Potter are in love and that you both are moving to Scotland after you both graduate from Hogwarts and Harry defeats Voldemort?"
To say that Malfoy was shocked would be a devastating understatement. The merry hustle and bustle of the customers as they snatched their own copy of the Deathly Hallows was silenced by a roar that followed Malfoy's shock. "POTTER!"
From behind the counter, Harry snapped up to attention. "Yes?"
"WHAT LIES HAVE YOU BEEN SPREADING IN THESE BOOKS?" yelled Malfoy, storming up to Harry. "THESE MUGGLES HAVE GOTTEN THE IDEA THAT WE ARE AN ITEM!"
In front of the counter, a ten-year old boy holding a copy of the Deathly Hallows scrunched up his face and went, "Ew."
"YES! EXACTLY! EW!" Malfoy prattled on.
"And I suppose you think I find that attractive?" said Harry deadpanned. "You must have been talking to fangirls, Malfoy. Don't take whatever they say too seriously. It'll drive you insane. And here is your free bookmark for being one of the first 100 customers to buy Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Thank you. Please come again. Next!"
Seeing as how Harry wasn't paying attention to him anymore, Malfoy tried to find Ron and Hermione who were brewing up strawberry milkshakes under the sign Potions Testing. As Malfoy neared them, he frowned. "What sort of Potion is this?"
"Strawberry milkshakes," replied Hermione.
"What does it do?"
"It's delicious."
"That's not a proper function!" exclaimed Malfoy, outraged. "This is a useless Potion. Let me show you how to make something useful!"
And before they could stop him, Malfoy pulled forth vials of ingredients from the bottomless pouch tied to his hip and started brewing a real Potion in the plastic cauldron. "There's no fire," he sniffed in disdain. "How can you brew a Potion without fire? And what kind of cauldron is this?"
He turned the cauldron to stone and conjured fire under it. But before he could complete his Potions, the fire he conjured has set of the smoke alarms and showered the entire room in water. Malfoy spluttered in surprise but the Muggle customers in the room were running in panic.
"OBLIVIATE!"
After managing to sort everything out, the four of them dried themselves off and Aparated back to Hogsmeade. Draco, still a bit miffed at the fangirls' accusation and his unfinished Potion, started to complain. "Well, that was…"
"Shut up, Malfoy," interrupted Harry. jabbing him with the Elder Wand for good measure. "Not a word out of you until we're at Hogwarts."
A/N: I know, I know. Harry said that he wasn't going to use the Elder Wand ever again. But this is just for fun )