Their party then Floo'ed directly from Saint Mungo's to Diagon Alley. Harry still had to get used to not feeling the weight of the spectacles on his face, or that he wasn't looking through the odd dust particles and soot that collected on the glass surfaces. There was also an odd feeling associated with the light breeze brushing over the skin around his eyes he'd not felt before.
He realised it would take a little time to get used to, but was happy for the chance to do so. "Where to, first?" asked Deece.
"Madam Malkin's," Daphne firmly replied. "The sooner we get Harry out of those rags, the better."
Entering the Alley proper they headed directly to the store, entering to find it completely lacking in any other customer.
Daphne practically dragged Harry to the little round stands the store's witches used to measure people up, and ordered him not to move until he was told to.
When Daphne and Hermione explained to the store witch what they wanted to happen, she immediately ducked into the rear of the store and brought back Madam Malkin, herself. "An entire wardrobe?" the plump little middle aged witch asked.
"Everything," Daphne firmly replied. "Treat it as if he has lost his entire wardrobe in a fire except for what he's wearing, and even that is damaged beyond repair."
"He's going to need wizarding and muggle wear from top to bottom; in and out," cut in Hermione. "Everything from outer and formal robes to muggle underwear... he wears boxers, by the way."
Both girls then nodded to the store owner, who was looking back in surprise.
"Well, then," said Madam Malkin, with a pleased little huff. "Let's get to it, then, shall we?"
Out came the measuring tapes and Harry was made to hold his arms out, spread his legs, and otherwise be almost violated by the magical measuring tape, as a quill was working itself to fill out a form on a nearby little pedestal.
While the tape was working, the store assistant witch watched the parchment for a few moments before she gave a nod and moved away, ducking back out to the back of the store.
She came back carrying a heap of clothing and asked Harry, "Any preferences to colour?"
Harry was about to reply when Daphne replied instead. "Green to match his eyes. Emerald, if you can. He also looks good in Ravenclaw blue and bronze. Silver highlights, where necessary. Potter crest on formal robes. No reds, oranges or the like; the colour does not suit him... unless it's a deep red, such as burgundy, to highlight."
"Pale, or pastel greens would also work for under robes," said Hermione. "It can be for a shirt, or two. Same with pastel blue to go with Royal and Navy blues. Creams, too. That'll go well with anything of a deep forest-like green. Browns, so long as it's dark. And, of course, black, dark greys and white."
The store witch was taking notes.
"Do I get a say in this?" asked Harry a little plaintively.
"No," said Hermione, as Daphne said, "Yes."
They looked at each other before Daphne said, "You get to choose some of the styles. Traditional or modern, for the cut of your robes. The same for mugglewear. You get to choose the style of shoe you're most comfortable with... such as, pointed toe or not. And, we'll let you choose some colours for yourself, so long as we approve."
The look Harry gave both girls made Deece almost burst out laughing. She had to hurry away to the witch's side of the store before she embarrassed herself by giggling.
"Harry," said Hermione. "You know we love you, right?"
With a sigh, understanding where this was going, he nodded.
"Then I mean no malice when I tell you your fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired," she firmly said. "Leave the selection of fashion to Daphne and me. We'll make sure you look good." "Between us we have both wizarding and muggle fashions covered," added Daphne. "Now stop fussing and be a good boy." She turned to make sure Deece wasn't paying too much attention before she turned back and softly said, "You'll be rewarded if you're a good boy, alright?"
Harry's eyes widened as what she said worked its way through his mind. He nodded back with a look of anticipatory glee.
"Good," she firmly said, before turning to Hermione and the two store witches. "Alright, ladies; we have work to do."
For the next three hours Harry felt he must have changed clothes over a hundred times as robes, shirts, trousers, jeans, jumpers, coats, hats, boots, shoes, belts, swimwear, underwear, male jewellery, watches, colognes, hair products and he forgot what else was brought to him to try on. Some only made it as far as being held to his chest for shirts or his waist for pants before it was discarded; some he managed to don before he was told to strip it back off and it was discarded. However, the pile of what was considered acceptable grew, though not as fast as the pile of discards. Or, the pile the discards would have made if they weren't being constantly removed and taken back out back.
By the third hour, Harry was almost an automaton. Without a word of complaint or approval - which he realised was ignored, anyway, during the first hour - he was constantly in and out of the change booth. At one time, Daphne joined him in the booth; and, at another, Hermione did.
Finally, Daphne sighed and said, "I think we're done." "Oh, thank God," Harry groaned, to which Deece laughed.
"Now us ladies need clothing to match," said Daphne.
"Oh, good," Harry sighed, collapsing into a chair. "Go have fun," he groaned.
Both witches glared at him and Hermione said, "On your feet, Mister Potter."
"You need to see what it is we'd like and for you to give your approval," explained Daphne.
"Ladies, I have already learned... over the past three hours... that my opinion is neither needed or matters," he explained with a near whine. "Why do you want to hear it now?" "Because it's how it's done!" replied Daphne, as if speaking to a small child.
Hermione then walked over and, taking him by the hand, dragged him to the witch's side of the store. He was practically dumped into a 'husband/boyfriend' chair, sitting next to Deece - who looked back at him with both amusement and sympathy - and told to give his opinion.
Both girls then entered side-by-side changing booths carrying an armful of garments each.
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