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After leaving the pet shop, Richie led Denton into Flourish and Blotts, which was currently decked out with a massive red promotional banner.
Last night's close call had pushed Richie to refocus his attention on the concept of curses.
Honestly, he knew very little about them. His first real exposure was the rumor about the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts being cursed—how every professor suffered some bizarre accident and resigned within a year.
It was a weird curse. Richie couldn't figure out the caster's motive. It couldn't just be a petty "if I can't have it, no one can" situation, right?
The second instance was that book Quirrell had given him: The Healing Potential of Blood Curses. It sounded clinical, but given that Quirrell was definitively the bad guy, Richie didn't trust it to be as "safe" as the title suggested. He still hadn't cracked the cover.
The third was the two werewolves that had just broken into his house—carriers of the werewolf curse.
A curse transmitted through a bite? Richie had assumed that was strictly a vampire thing. Though, to be fair, vampire transmission was a lot more complicated.
It made him realize that curses in the magical world weren't nearly as rare as he'd thought. He wasn't looking to hurt anyone, but he definitely needed to know how to defend himself. He needed to study up.
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"The complete Gilderoy Lockhart collection, available at full price today!"
"Remember, folks, you can't get an autograph if you don't own the books!"
"If you're not sure where to start, I highly recommend..."
A massive mountain of books was piled dead center in the store, stretching almost to the second floor. It was surrounded by life-sized cardboard cutouts of an aggressively handsome wizard flashing a blindingly white smile.
A massive sign hung above it all:
Order of Merlin, Third Class. Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League. Five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award. Gilderoy Lockhart's official book signing is coming!
The shop was absolutely packed. Most of the crowd was swarming the display to buy Lockhart's books, forcing Richie and Denton to edge sideways along the bookshelves.
After telling Denton to go grab whatever caught his eye, Richie headed straight for the deeper sections of the store.
Flourish and Blotts was roughly categorized, but Richie was still having trouble tracking down what he needed. He finally flagged down an employee.
"Curses?" Jeremy lowered his inventory list, giving the eleven-year-old a deeply confused look. But keeping his retail composure, he didn't question it. "We actually do have one book on curses."
He pulled out his wand and gave it a lazy flick. From the far corner of the store, a dark red book zoomed through the air and smacked into his hand. It was completely covered in dust. Jeremy nonchalantly slapped it clean against his leg and handed it to Richie.
"This is the last copy in the shop. Leftover inventory from last year." Jeremy let out a heavy sigh.
"It only sold twenty-nine copies all of last year. And the only reason it sold at all was because parents misread the Hogwarts supply list. They all ended up returning it, which drove the boss crazy. With Lockhart's stuff flying off the shelves this year, we didn't even bother restocking it. You honestly lucked out."
Richie raised an eyebrow and took the book.
Curses and Counter-Curses: Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies.
The cover featured an old wizard waving a wand with a wildly eager smile. Richie cracked it open and skimmed a few pages, quickly realizing it was nothing more than a prank manual for kids.
The Bogey-Bat Hex, the Leg-Locker Curse, the Bubble-Head Jinx... No wonder parents returned it. Nobody wants to buy their kid a loaded weapon for school pranks.
It was lightyears away from the kind of actual, dangerous curses Richie was looking for. Disappointed, he snapped the book shut.
He looked up at Jeremy, lowered his voice, and asked carefully, "Do you have anything... a little more advanced?"
Jeremy froze. He looked down at Richie, the corner of his mouth twitching. "You mean the restricted stuff? Flourish and Blotts hasn't sold that kind of material in years."
He paused before adding, "Nowhere in Diagon Alley sells it. You'd have to try your luck in Knockturn Alley. But I strongly advise against it."
Jeremy leaned in, adopting a ridiculously theatrical, sinister expression. "Because that place is crawling with Dark wizards. The second they spot you, they'll snatch you off the street, use you for Dark Magic experiments, skin you alive, and turn your bones into cursed artifacts! BOOM!"
He threw his hands up for a jump-scare. Richie just stared back at him, completely deadpan.
Jeremy blinked, dropping the act. "Are you not scared?"
Richie shook his head in amusement. "Your acting needs a lot of work."
"Uh..." Jeremy was about to reply when another clerk shouted from across the store.
"Jeremy! Are those pre-orders packed yet? The customers are getting impatient!"
"Yeah, yeah, almost done!" Jeremy yelled back.
He scratched his head and looked back at Richie. "Alright, kid, I've gotta get back to work. Registers are up front." He raised his wand again, sending another batch of books flying from the shelves to the packing counter.
Realizing the conversation was over, Richie tucked Curses and Counter-Curses under his arm and walked away. He knew Jeremy was just trying to scare him off for his own good.
Even so, Richie quietly filed the name "Knockturn Alley" away in the back of his mind.
By the time Richie found his dad, Denton was clutching a massive stack of books.
"Hey, Richie," Denton said, his face flushed with excitement. "Who is this Lockhart guy? Is he some huge celebrity in your world? Whatever he is, he's definitely an adventurer! Look at these titles—trolls, banshees, vampires... Compared to this stuff, my dream about werewolves catching bullets is child's play!"
Denton shifted his weight, awkwardly gesturing for Richie to reach into his pocket. "My wallet's in my left pocket. This seven-book collector's edition is thirty-two Galleons. I have no idea what the conversion rate is, but it can't be that expensive, right? Everyone in here is buying them."
Richie just shrugged. "You can't use Muggle money here. You'd have to exchange it at Gringotts—the wizarding bank. And one Galleon is roughly five pounds."
He pulled out his wand and hit the stack of books with a Hover Charm, taking the weight off his dad.
"Oof. A hundred and sixty pounds? That is a bit steep," Denton winced.
He actually flushed a little out of sheer embarrassment. He hadn't expected a box set of books to run nearly two hundred pounds. The Harland household pulled in about 1,400 pounds a month after taxes, but Denton's personal allowance was strictly capped at 300 pounds. (Mrs. Harland's absolute rule: the rest went straight to the house.)
This one purchase was going to take a massive bite out of his walking-around money. It definitely stung.
"Relax, Dad. I've got it," Richie said, shaking his head in amusement at the middle-aged man's sudden financial crisis. "You'd lose money on the exchange rate anyway. Let's just use my account."
"Attaboy! Good thing I funded your sci-fi book habit all those years!" Denton laughed, proudly ruffling Richie's hair.
Richie ducked out of the way. He took a few more minutes to browse the shelves, pulling three more books for his own studies.
Gathering up all eleven volumes, he headed for the register to settle the tab.