The next stop on their whirlwind tour of Diagon Alley was a small, charming shop nestled between a pair of much larger buildings. Above the door, a golden sign swung gently in the breeze, reading "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions." The windows were filled with rows of shining robes in every color and pattern imaginable, with intricate designs shimmering under the light. Hagrid pushed open the door, and the bell above it chimed with a pleasant, musical sound.
Inside, the shop was cozy and warm, with thick velvet curtains hanging over the windows and soft carpets covering the floor. Several mannequins stood in neat rows, each dressed in an assortment of robes, from school uniforms to fancy dress robes, each one more elaborate than the last. At the back of the shop, a woman with sharp features and a welcoming smile looked up from a clipboard as Hagrid entered.
"Ah, Hagrid! Good to see you!" she called, her voice carrying through the shop. "We've been expecting you. And young Mr. Potter, of course." She looked over at Harry with a kind but appraising glance, as if she was sizing him up for the robes she knew would fit him perfectly.
"Right," Hagrid muttered, glancing at Harry. "We're here for the school robes."
"Excellent," Madam Malkin said. "Right this way, young man. I'll get you measured up for your Hogwarts robes." She gestured to a nearby fitting area where a stool was already waiting.
Harry followed her as she moved around, taking in the sheer amount of fabric and colorful robes. His heart beat a little faster—this felt more like a world he could step into, unlike the harsh, sterile walls of Privet Drive.
As Madam Malkin adjusted the measuring tape around Harry's chest, the door opened again, and a smooth voice broke the moment of quiet.
"Well, well, well. Look who we have here," the voice drawled. Harry looked up to see a boy about his age, wearing a dark, expensive-looking suit and a haughty expression. The boy's platinum-blond hair gleamed in the light, and his sharp blue eyes narrowed as they fixed on Harry. "I didn't think they'd let anyone like you into Hogwarts."
The boy stepped forward with an air of superiority, his eyes running over Harry as though he were some sort of oddity. His father, a tall, imposing figure, followed closely behind, his cold eyes briefly flicking over Harry before returning to the task of inspecting the robes he was about to purchase.
"Draco," the boy said coolly, as though introducing himself was the last thing he needed to do. "Draco Malfoy." He looked at Harry with a sneer, as though expecting him to bow in respect.
Harry frowned, but before he could say anything, Madam Malkin finished adjusting the tape around him and stepped back with a satisfied nod.
"You'll be needing the standard robes, I assume," Madam Malkin said. "Two sets of regular robes, one set of dress robes, and a couple of pairs of pointed shoes. Oh, and a set of winter cloaks as well. You'll be wanting to be prepared for the weather up at Hogwarts."
Harry nodded, still feeling a bit unsure of how to proceed. He glanced over at Draco, who was watching him with a look of disdain. Draco's father, a tall and imposing man, was busy inspecting the robes, clearly not concerned with the other customers in the shop.
Draco, however, wasn't done with Harry. "I'm sure you've heard of my family," he said, as though it was a given that everyone should know the name Malfoy. "We have quite the reputation. You'll be seeing a lot of me at school, no doubt." He smirked again, his eyes glinting with superiority. "I wonder if your name will be worth anything, or if they'll just keep you around for the entertainment value."
Harry's temper flared, but he held it in check. "I don't know what you mean," he said stiffly, trying to keep his voice calm.
"Oh, I think you do," Draco said with a sharp grin. "Everyone knows that people like you don't belong in a school like Hogwarts. But we'll see, won't we? I suppose you'll have to prove yourself worthy."
At this, Harry couldn't hold back his frustration. "And what makes you so special?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation. "Just because you think your name is important?"
Draco's smile faltered, but only for a moment. He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned to his father, who had finished his inspection of the robes and was now preparing to leave.
"Well, we'll see how things turn out, won't we?" Draco said with a laugh, giving Harry one last, contemptuous look before striding away, his father close behind.
Madam Malkin, sensing the tension, gave Harry an apologetic glance. "Don't mind him, dear," she said kindly, though there was a trace of worry in her voice. "Young Malfoy comes from a very… traditional family. They don't take kindly to new blood, so to speak."
Harry nodded silently, still feeling the sting of Draco's words. It was a lot to take in, and he wasn't sure how to respond to the boy's clear disdain. But something inside Harry clicked in that moment. He was starting to realize just how different his life at Hogwarts was going to be—and how much he was going to have to prove.
Madam Malkin finished up the final measurements, tapping the clipboards with a light sigh of relief. "All done," she said. "Your robes should be ready for pick-up in a couple of hours. I'll have them sent over to your accommodations, if that's all right?"
"That'll be fine," Hagrid replied with a smile, glancing at Harry.
"Good," Madam Malkin said, ringing up the order. She handed Harry a bag with a couple of items for immediate use. "The total comes to 15 Galleons."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't expected to be so… aware of the money he was spending. His hand tightened around the bag, feeling the unfamiliar weight of it.
"Don't worry, Harry," Hagrid said gently, noticing Harry's discomfort. "You've got plenty, remember?"
Harry nodded, still a little uncertain. As they walked out of the shop and back into the hustle of Diagon Alley, Harry found himself lost in thought. Draco Malfoy's words still echoed in his ears. But Hagrid's reassuring presence steadied him, reminding him that he was about to start something new, something big—whether Malfoy liked it or not.