Chapter Text
Harry had been in Diagon Alley for less than an hour and had already decided that the wizarding world was absolutely brilliant.
It was also completely mad.
There were shops selling cauldrons. Shops selling owls. Shops selling things in jars that Harry had deliberately avoided looking at too closely. He had money (an astonishing amount of money, apparently) and somewhere there was a school waiting for him where people did magic on purpose instead of accidentally making people's clothing shrink.
And now he learned he needed robes.
Hagrid had left him at "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" while he went to fetch something to eat.
"Won't be but a minute, Harry. You get yerself measured up."
Harry had been slightly nervous about being left alone. Then he'd gone inside and seen the girl. She was standing on a stool in front of a mirror while a witch knelt beside her, pinning the hem of a black Hogwarts robe. She was about Harry's age. Maybe a little taller, although the stool made it difficult to tell. Her hair was almost white, long and perfectly straight, falling over her shoulders while another attendant tried to keep it out of the way.
Harry had never seen hair quite like it.
"Not there."
The attendant stopped.
"Sorry, dear?"
"The pin." The girl pointed impatiently. "It's pulling."
"Oh. Of course."
The woman adjusted it.
The girl inspected herself in the mirror. "No. Now the other side is uneven."
Harry frowned. He wasn't entirely certain it was.
The attendant patiently adjusted it again. "Better?"
The girl tilted her head. "A little."
Harry decided almost immediately that she was horrible.
Then she turned slightly and Harry saw her properly. He stared. He didn't mean to. It just sort of happened.
She was... Well. Harry didn't really know. "Pretty" seemed like the wrong word somehow. Aunt Petunia called actresses "pretty." Dudley occasionally called girls on television "fit" when he thought his mother couldn't hear.
Harry didn't know what he thought, but he definitely thought something. He just knew that the strange pale girl with the almost-white hair was suddenly very difficult not to look at.
"Don't bunch it there." she said.
The attendant took a breath. "I'm only trying to..."
"I know what you're trying to do. You're doing it incorrectly."
Harry's fascination diminished slightly. Definitely horrible.
Madam Malkin appeared from behind a curtain.
"Hogwarts too, dear?"
Harry nodded. "Yes."
"First year?"
"Yeah."
"Stand up here, then."
A second stool had been placed several feet from the girl's. Harry climbed onto it. A measuring tape immediately began moving around him by itself.
Harry jumped. Madam Malkin laughed.
"First time?"
Harry nodded.
"Don't worry. It won't bite."
Harry watched the tape wrap itself around his chest. This was brilliant.
The girl looked at him. Harry looked away. A moment later, he looked back. She was still watching the mirror. Harry stared at her hair again. Then her face.
She turned. Harry snapped his eyes forward. He looked sideways. She was staring directly at him.
"What?"
Harry nearly lost his balance. "Nothing."
The girl's eyes narrowed. "You were staring at me."
"No, I wasn't."
"You were."
"I was looking at the mirror."
"The mirror is behind me."
"Yeah."
"Which means you were looking at me."
Harry couldn't think of a response to that. The girl turned fully toward him. She seemed prepared to say something unpleasant. Her chin lifted slightly.
"You really shouldn't..."
Harry looked at her. She looked back. Something strange happened to her face.
The superior expression disappeared, but only for a second. Her eyes moved over Harry's face, stopped at his scar, then returned to his eyes. Then his hair.
Harry suddenly became extremely conscious of his hair. He'd tried flattening it that morning. It hadn't helped.
The girl opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
Harry waited.
"I..." She blinked.
Harry had the peculiar impression that whatever she'd planned to say had fallen straight out of her head.
She seemed to remember herself. Her shoulders straightened.
"My name is Dracena Malfoy." The name was delivered with the air of someone who expected it to mean something.
Harry waited. Dracena waited. Apparently he was supposed to react. He didn't.
Something resembling disappointment flickered across her face. "Malfoy." she repeated.
"Right."
"You haven't heard of my family?"
"No."
That seemed to astonish her. "Really?"
"Really."
"Are you Muggle-born?"
Harry had heard Hagrid use the word Muggle twenty minutes earlier. He wasn't entirely sure what it meant.
"I don't think so."
"You don't think so?"
"My parents were wizards."
Dracena relaxed slightly. "Oh."
"Well, what's your name?"
"Harry."
"Harry what?"
"Potter."
This time Dracena really did stare.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "What?"
"Harry Potter?"
"Yeah."
"The Harry Potter?"
Harry sighed. Apparently this was going to happen a lot.
"I suppose."
Dracena looked at his forehead again. Harry's hair had fallen partly over the scar. She leaned slightly to one side, trying to see it. Harry leaned the other way. She leaned farther.
Harry frowned. "Could you not?"
Dracena immediately straightened. "I wasn't doing anything."
"You were staring."
"I was looking at your hair."
Harry stared at her. Dracena's cheeks turned slightly pink. She seemed to realize what she'd said.
"Your scar." she corrected quickly. "I was looking for your scar."
"Oh."
"Everyone knows about it."
"I didn't."
That stopped her again.
"You didn't know about your own scar?"
"I knew I had a scar. Not that everyone knows about it?"
Dracena stared at him.
Harry was beginning to enjoy doing that to her.
"So you really don't know anything?"
"I know things."
"About our world."
Harry's enjoyment faded. "Not much."
Dracena considered him with an expression Harry couldn't quite read. It wasn't contempt exactly. If anything, she looked fascinated.
"That's very strange."
"Thanks."
"I didn't mean..."
The shop door opened. "Harry!" Harry immediately recognized the booming voice. Hagrid ducked his enormous head through the doorway. "Yeh nearly done?"
Madam Malkin looked over. "Just a few more minutes."
"Right! Thought I'd grab us summat ter eat. Yeh like pasties, Harry?"
"I don't know."
Hagrid laughed. "Well, we'll find out!" He disappeared again, the bell over the door jingling violently behind him.
Harry smiled. When he turned back, Dracena was staring at the door.
"What?"
She looked at Harry. "What was that?"
Harry's smile disappeared. "That was Hagrid."
"Yes, I gathered it had a name."
Harry frowned. Dracena didn't notice.
"Why do you have such a brutish servant?"
Harry's fascination with her suffered another considerable setback. "He's not my servant."
Dracena blinked. "Then why is he carrying things for you?"
"Because he's helping me."
"Why?"
Harry stared at her. "Because he's nice?"
Dracena looked genuinely puzzled by this explanation.
"He's the groundskeeper at Hogwarts."
Her expression went from puzzled to utterly bewildered. "The groundskeeper?"
"Yeah."
"At Hogwarts?"
"Yes."
"And he's accompanying you through Diagon Alley?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Harry hesitated. That was considerably harder to explain. "Because he came to get me."
Dracena stared. "The Hogwarts groundskeeper came to collect you personally?"
Harry suddenly felt defensive. "Yeah."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't get my letters."
"What letters?"
"My Hogwarts letters."
"How could you not get them?"
"My aunt and uncle wouldn't let me read them."
Dracena's face changed.
"Why not?"
"I don't know. They don't like magic."
She stared at him as though he'd just announced that his relatives didn't believe in shoes.
"They're Muggles?"
"Yeah."
"But you said your parents were wizards."
"They were."
"Were?"
Harry's stomach tightened. "They died."
Dracena stopped. Harry had already learned that this was another thing people reacted strangely to.
"Oh." For once she didn't seem to know what to say. "I'm sorry."
Harry looked at her. There wasn't anything snobbish in her face now. Just an eleven-year-old girl who had realized she'd stumbled onto something painful.
"Thanks."
Then Dracena's brow furrowed. "So you've been living with Muggles who hate magic, you didn't know Hogwarts existed, and they prevented you from receiving your letters?"
"Pretty much."
"And Hogwarts sent the groundskeeper?"
Harry shrugged. "He's nice."
"That's not the point!"
Harry almost laughed. "What's the point?"
"The point is..."
"All finished, dear."
Dracena looked down.
The attendant had stepped back from her robes.
"Oh."
Madam Malkin smiled pleasantly. "If you'd just step down, we'll have these wrapped for you."
Dracena stepped off the stool.
Harry watched.
He couldn't help it.
She caught him again. This time she didn't accuse him of staring. Instead she smoothed the front of her dress and tried very hard to look as though she hadn't noticed. Madam Malkin handed her the package.
"There you are."
"Thank you."
It was the first time Harry had heard her thank anyone in the shop. The attendant looked mildly surprised too.
Dracena walked toward the door and looked back at Harry.
"Harry Potter."
"Dracena Malfoy."
She smiled. It wasn't the superior little smile she'd worn earlier. This one seemed to escape before she could stop it.
"I suppose I'll see you at Hogwarts."
"Suppose so."
"Try to learn something before then."
Harry frowned. "There it is."
"What?"
"You were almost nice."
Dracena looked offended. "I was nice."
"You were." Harry smiled. "Then you ruined it."
She glared at him. Harry grinned.
And, strangely, Dracena grinned back.
"Goodbye, Potter."
"Bye, Malfoy."
She opened the door. Harry expected her to leave. Instead she turned around.
"Wait."
"What?"
"Why did the groundskeeper have to come and get you?"
Harry opened his mouth.
"Miss Malfoy." Madam Malkin was still smiling pleasantly, but there was something in the smile now that suggested she had reached the absolute limit of her patience. "Your robes are finished."
"Oh."
Dracena glanced toward the door, then back at Harry.
"But..."
"Your mother is waiting."
Dracena sighed. "Fine."
She stepped outside. The door closed.
Harry watched through the window as that pale head disappeared into the crowd. Madam Malkin's measuring tape tightened around his waist.
Harry jumped.
"Stand still, dear."
"Sorry."
Harry tried.
"Madam Malkin?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Are all Witches like that?"
She laughed. Harry wasn't sure why.
He looked toward the window again. Dracena was gone. That was probably for the best.
She was rude. Spoiled. Bossy. She treated shop attendants like servants. She'd called Hagrid brutish. She apparently thought everyone ought to know who her family was.
Harry didn't like her. He was quite certain of that. A minute later, the bell jingled and Hagrid returned carrying a paper bag large enough to feed six people.
"All done, Harry?"
"Almost."
"Meet anyone?"
Harry looked toward the window one more time.
"Sort of."
"Nice?"
Harry thought about it. "No." Then he thought about white-blonde hair, a momentary stutter, and the strange way she'd smiled at him before leaving. Harry frowned. "Maybe."
Hagrid raised an eyebrow.
Harry shrugged. "I dunno."