"What's wrong with my clothes?" Harry frowned. Sure, his clothes weren't Yves Saint Laurent, but they weren't bad either.
"Nozing, if you wish to look like a commoner," Perenelle answered as she walked over to him, grabbed his arm in a deceptively powerful grip, and began hauling him away from his previous destination. "'owever, if you wish to maintain ze appearance of a powerful figure and the 'eir to a Most Ancient and Noble 'ouse, you will need better clothing more befitting of your status. Plus you are now my 'usbands apprentice," she added almost as an after thought, "and I will not have ze apprentice of my husband looking like some plebian."
"Don't worry zough," Perenelle reassured him in a tone that did nothing to reassure. "I won't 'ave you burn your commoner clothes or anyzing. It iz good to be able to fit in with the plebians when you wish to mingle with ze common people."
XoX
It was several hours later (for Harry at least) that the young Potter Heir found himself standing in front of Lisa's home, waiting for his best friend or her mother to answer the door. He had just spent the last several hours with Perenelle at FBG Saint-Honoré Homme Store in Paris trying on several dozen different outfits for the Nicolas Flamel's fairer half. Harry would never admit this to anyone, but he really had enjoyed his time with the gorgeous woman. It was nice to find someone who understood how proper fashion could be used to better ones image and increase ones reputation.
The door soon opened and, not to Harry's surprise, Lisa was the one who was standing behind it. The girl had a bright smile on her face as she greeted him.
"Watcher, Harry! How are... ohmygod! Are those Yves Saint Laurent!?"
"Ah..."
Harry squirmed a bit uncomfortably as he saw Lisa's eyes narrow. He looked down at himself. Having bought several sets of expensive shirts, pants, shorts, and shoes all on Perenelle's 'suggestion', he had decided that he really, really, wanted to wear some of them. It would have been a shame to let them just sit in his closet until he he found a time when wearing them would be appropriate.
Currently, he was wearing a white cotton t-shirt with a crew neck, short sleeves and a contrasting black logo and Basilisk print to the front; a pair of blue cotton jeans featuring a concealed front fastening, a silver-tone button fly, belt loops to the waist, contrast riveting, a classic five pocket design and a straight leg; and black calfskin trainers that had a round toe, a front lace fastening, a studded side stripe detail, a branded tongue and a rubber sole. In short, nothing he was wearing was below five hundred pounds.
"Yes?"
Lisa's eyes narrowed even further, causing Harry to almost take a step back. He didn't, mainly because his best friend had grabbed a hold of his arm and was currently holding onto it very tightly. Who knew she had such a strong grip?
"And just how did you manage to find the money to buy such expensive clothing?"
They had actually been a gift. Once he and his chaperone-slash fashion consultant otherwise known as the wife of Nicolas Flamel had finished determining which clothes he would be getting, he had been about to pay for them using his muggle credit card. It would have put him back quite a bit, especially since most of his money in his account at HSBC Holdings since most of his money was going into several profitable ventures that would hopefully earn him more money.
That was when Perenelle had paid for his clothes. He had been about to try and stop her. As much as it would have set him back, Harry hated feeling indebted to people, and buying several thousand pounds worth of clothes would have definitely indebted him to Perenelle.
One surprisingly frightening glare later and Harry was the owner of nearly ten thousand pounds worth of Yves Saint Laurent clothing after Perenelle finished paying for it.
On a side note, Harry did not want to be subject to that glare again. It made him truly understand why Nicolas Flamel had been so set on fixing up his floor before his wife returned. If that was the glare he got for doing something his wife would not approve of, Harry could sympathize.
And he supposed it wasn't all bad. Sure, he had just allowed someone to buy him clothing that was so expensive not even the Malfoys would spend that much money on them... or maybe they would, knowing them, but it wasn't like Perenelle was strapped for cash. She did have a Philosopher's Stone after all. She could just get her husband to turn pewter into gold and sell it in large ingots for an exorbitant price.
Of course, he could not tell Lisa that. Better think up something quick.
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