While Ginny stood by, looking grateful yet embarrassed, Damian couldn't shake off the irritation at Ron's interference. After paying for the book, he handed it to Ginny. "There you go. All set for your class!"
"Thank you, Damian," she said, her face lighting up again. "You're really sweet. I appreciate it."
"Anytime," he replied, feeling a sense of satisfaction. But inside he was thinking about the dairy.
As Damian handed the Care of Magical Creatures book to Ginny, his mind was racing. While Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were distracted by the transaction, he discreetly scanned the floor around them, desperately searching for the missing diary. He glanced under shelves and around the bustling customers, hoping to catch a glimpse of the familiar worn cover.
His frustration grew with every passing second. Where could it be? he thought, mentally cursing Ron for his clumsiness. If he hadn't shoved me, I wouldn't have lost it! The anger bubbled just beneath the surface, but he kept his face composed, trying to remain focused on the task at hand.
Ginny was thanking him profusely, oblivious to the chaos in his mind. "You really didn't have to do this, Damian. I appreciate it!" she exclaimed, a bright smile illuminating her face.
Damian forced a smile back. "Of course, it's no problem at all." he nodded and asked. "What other books do you need?"
"Just a couple more. I'm hoping to find The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1," Ginny replied, looking eager. "And maybe something fun to read for the holidays!"
"Sounds great!" Damian said, but internally, he was still scanning the ground, hoping against hope that he'd find the diary before it was too late. His thoughts were racing as he considered the potential consequences of losing it.
Suddenly he turned as he heard Lucius's voice" ... and I thought your family could sink no lower—"
There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying, again; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please—please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all—
"Break it up, there, gents, break it up—"
Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant, he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip, and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools.
Meanwhile, Damian stood a few paces away, having just helped Ginny collect her fallen books. He turned at the commotion, spotting Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy grappling amidst the chaos. Ginny, still by his side, clutched her cauldron tightly, her eyes wide with shock.
"What just happened?" Ginny gasped, looking at Damian for an explanation.
"I think your dad just had enough of Lucius," Damian replied, trying to keep his tone light despite the unfolding chaos.
"Blimey, I hope he's alright," she murmured, peering through the crowd to catch a glimpse of her father.
Just then, Mr. Malfoy, pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip, thrust Ginny's old 'Transfiguration' book at her, his eyes glittering with malice and threw it at her. "Here, girl—take your book—it's the best your father can give you—" he sneered, then beckoned to Draco and Damian, and swept from the shop.
Damian muttered a "Sorry" to Ginny, shooting her an apologetic glance, as he followed the Malfoys disappear into the throng.
—-
As Damian followed Lucius and Draco out of Flourish and Blotts, heading back towards the Leaky Cauldron to return to Malfoy Manor, he kept a careful distance, his mind still racing after the chaotic events in the bookshop. He had done what he needed to, but the tension from the fight between Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy lingered in the air.
Lucius strode ahead with his usual arrogance, sneering as he adjusted his robes, clearly displeased by the encounter. "Blood traitors," he muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. "Weasleys… utterly disgraceful, and Dumbledore dares to let their kind wander around freely, sullying everything they touch."
Draco, walking alongside his father, nodded in agreement, though his gaze flickered to Damian for a moment. "Honestly, Father, they're barely even wizards," Draco added, a smirk curling his lips. "The way they live, it's pathetic. Did you see the state of them?"
Damian, keeping his expression neutral, let the conversation pass without comment. He knew better than to engage with Lucius or Draco on this topic. Instead, he played his part, letting them believe he was merely listening in silence.
"Dumbledore's tolerance for blood traitors and Mudbloods will be his downfall," Lucius continued, his voice low but seething. "Mark my words, this world needs cleansing, and when the time comes, the Weasleys and their ilk will learn where they truly stand."
Damian, though still on guard, nodded slightly, allowing Lucius to carry on without revealing his own thoughts. He had his own plans to attend to, and soon, he'd have a chance to focus on those. The diary was now not in Ginny Weasley's possession and was currently missing.
—-----------
The diary was missing due to that stupid Ron's interference, but Damian wasn't too worried. He had played his part well, and now all he could do was wait until it resurfaced. He knew that ordinary adult wizards were almost immune to the compulsion charms placed on the diary—those enchantments were subtle, designed to lure the curious and unsuspecting, like students at Hogwarts. If anyone was to take interest in it, it would likely be one of them, seeing it as a discarded diary someone had dropped.
The diary had a way of finding its victim. If it didn't resurface right away, Damian knew it would turn up at Hogwarts eventually, where the allure of its mysteries would be irresistible to some students. He was confident that it was only a matter of time before it ended up in someone's hands, and then the pieces of his plan would begin to fall into place.
All he had to do now was wait, observe, and be ready. Hogwarts was the stage, and soon enough, the diary would do its work.
—--------
In the aftermath of the chaotic brawl between Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley, a figure moved quietly among the mess of fallen books and scattered belongings in Flourish and Blotts. They glanced around, ensuring no one was paying attention, before their eyes fell on a small, unremarkable black diary lying half-hidden beneath a fallen shelf.
The person bent down and picked it up, turning it over in their hands. It looked old, the leather slightly worn, but completely blank as they flipped through the pages. They frowned, knowing it must have been dropped in the commotion—likely when Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy.
For a moment, they considered just putting it back where they'd found it. After all, it was just a diary, and clearly, it belonged to someone. But then curiosity got the better of them. "Maybe it has some interesting notes or secrets," they thought to themselves, though there was nothing particularly enticing about the blank pages. Still, the thrill of holding onto something lost—something mysterious—made them tuck it away in their bag.
"I'll just keep it for now," the person muttered, glancing around one last time before walking off into the crowd. "If no one claims it by evening, I'll take it."
And just like that the diary had found its new owner.
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