Hagrid squinted his huge eyes, a broad smile spreading across his face.
"Almost forgot—Professor Dumbledore told me that this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is none other than Douglas."
As he finished, he caught the crooked grin on Douglas Holmes's face—so familiar, even after years apart. With a wave to the group, Hagrid turned and strode off, never looking back. The crowded street parted naturally before him, as if even the chaos of Diagon Alley dared not block his path.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley each grabbed one of Douglas's hands, beaming with delight.
"Congratulations! I always said Professor Dumbledore had an eye for talent. And working at Hogwarts is far better than wandering the world..."
Mr. Weasley quickly corrected her, "Douglas was traveling, not wandering!"
The children exchanged glances, each with their own thoughts. The twins shared a look, mischief and the promise of future payback glinting in their eyes.
Harry felt a pang of regret—of all things, the new professor had to see him coming out of Knockturn Alley. Clearly, as Hagrid had said, that was not a place for decent folk.
Hermione, ever perceptive, noticed something else: even the usually reserved Percy wore a complicated expression.
Soon, though, the group dispersed. The Weasleys and Hermione headed to Gringotts, while Douglas made his way, as planned, to the Junk Shop.
The shopkeeper—a toothless old man with a mysterious odor—barely acknowledged his entrance. Not that it mattered; anyone who came here, buyer or seller, was usually desperate for a bargain, no matter how polished their robes seemed.
The shop itself was unchanged: battered wands, wobbly brass scales, and, most of all, shelves upon shelves of old books. There was a cramped aisle lined with bookshelves, barely wide enough for one person to slip through. Books and handwritten notes were crammed in every available space, all unsorted. If you wanted something, you had to dig for it yourself—the only exception being second-hand Hogwarts textbooks, which the owner kept near the counter.
Douglas browsed idly, picking up a dusty volume—Major Discoveries in Contemporary Magic, published in 1921.
A bit outdated, to say the least.
He soon noticed a young wizard in the corner, nose buried in one of his own novels. Glancing around, Douglas spotted several of his early books on the shelves—not first editions, but well-loved, their margins filled with scribbled comments from different readers.
He'd received plenty of fan mail over the years, but he always left it for Mr. Slane to handle. Still, reading the notes in these battered books, he found himself smiling at some of the more amusing critiques.
Just then, a familiar voice rang out nearby.
"Could I get a set of Hogwarts first-year textbooks? Ones in decent condition, please..."
Stepping out from behind a shelf, Douglas greeted the newcomer.
"Hello again, Mrs. Weasley! We meet so soon?"
Mrs. Weasley, bent over the books, looked up in surprise.
"Oh, Douglas! What are you doing here—shopping for books?
Percy, Ginny, take note—even a Hogwarts professor never stops reading!"
Ginny blushed furiously at being caught buying used books by a teacher—though she couldn't help wondering if professors bought second-hand books too.
At that moment, Percy stepped forward.
"Professor Holmes, hello. I'm sorry I didn't greet you properly earlier."
Douglas raised an eyebrow, grinning.
"Since when are you so formal with me? When you didn't say a word earlier, I thought you'd forgotten your old boss!"
Percy shook his head, earnest and a little embarrassed.
"No, it's not that. Ever since you graduated, you never wrote to me again. I thought... I thought..."
Douglas chuckled.
"You thought I'd forgotten you? Or maybe you thought I looked down on you? Still so stiff with me? Have you forgotten everything I taught you?"
Percy shook his head so hard he looked like a bobblehead.
"Of course not! I actually wanted to write too, but..."
Seeing Percy's awkwardness, Douglas handed him a book.
"If you don't mind, you can still call me 'boss.' Bill wrote to tell me there's a new prefect in the family—congratulations! Here, this book's for you. I think you'll like it."
Percy took the gift—How Prefects Gain Power—and his face lit up, admiration shining in his eyes.
"Thank you, boss! I really did mean to write, but Bill said you were busy traveling the world..."
To Percy, this friend of his older brother was more than a mentor—he'd been a guide since first year, never minding the differences in age or house. Douglas had shared stories both clever and wise, taught him the subtleties of dealing with people, and always reminded him of the importance of family. He was the only one who, when a nervous first-year announced his dream of becoming Minister for Magic, didn't laugh, but encouraged him—sharing tales of ancient Eastern kings and the idea that greatness wasn't only for the privileged.
Back in Percy's second year, with Bill as Head Boy and Charlie as Gryffindor prefect, Douglas often enlisted Percy's help delivering fruit to professors and house prefects, teaching him all sorts of useful social tricks along the way.
Ginny had never seen her third brother like this before. Mrs. Weasley, however, was unfazed—she'd long known how close Douglas was with Bill, and how kind he'd been to her sons. He was practically another big brother to them all.
Douglas turned to Mrs. Weasley, who was eyeing a set of second-hand books.
"Mrs. Weasley, I've already prepared Ginny's textbooks—it's my gift to her for starting Hogwarts. Remember, I promised that every child who started at Hogwarts would get a present from me. I missed George, Fred, and Ron, but I don't want to miss the Weasley princess. Bill's written me plenty about Ginny, and I've got everything ready. You wouldn't want me to sell them as second-hand, would you? If you refuse, I'll be too embarrassed to accept any gifts from you in the future!"
Mrs. Weasley hesitated. A new set of Hogwarts textbooks cost nearly as much as Arthur's monthly salary. If not for Bill's letters, she might not have realized just how well-off Douglas was—both in the wizarding and Muggle worlds, though he always kept a low profile. Maybe it was the way he said he'd already prepared them, or maybe it was the sting of seeing only one Galleon left in their vault that morning at Gringotts. In the end, she nodded, accepting his kindness. After all, Ginny was her only daughter—she deserved a little spoiling. And this wasn't the first time Douglas had given such gifts; he'd done the same for Percy when he started school.
Mrs. Weasley paused, then turned to say,
"Alright, as you wish. But you must come to our house for Christmas this year—I want you to try some new recipes I've been working on. Ginny, hurry and thank Douglas—he's Bill's best friend. When you were little, he told you loads of stories… though you probably don't remember."
Ginny, cheeks aflame, murmured a shy thank you. She honestly didn't remember much—she'd been only five or six at the time. Most of what she knew about Douglas came from family chatter.
Douglas smiled, ruffling her hair. "You're welcome."
He paid the grumbling shopkeeper for How Prefects Gain Power, then followed the Weasleys out into the sunlight.
Outside, Mrs. Weasley asked,
"Douglas, do you have any other plans? Would you like to visit Flourish and Blotts? Today's the signing for Gilderoy Lockhart's Magical Me."
Douglas nodded.
"Let's go together, then. I need to stop by Flourish and Blotts anyway."
Mrs. Weasley shook her head quickly.
"Sorry, Douglas, I can't go just yet. I need to take Ginny to buy her robes and a few other things. If you don't have anything else to do, why not look around for a bit—or pop into the Leaky Cauldron to chat with Arthur? Let's meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour, and tonight we'll all have dinner together to celebrate your new post at Hogwarts!"
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