Harry Potter ~ Year 1 and the Alchemist Stone

Chapter 5 - Shopping for School Supplies

"Might as well get your uniform," Hagrid said when they had walked out. He nodded towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would you mind if I slipped off for a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He still looked a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here, another young man is being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, there was a boy with a pale, pointed face standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black clothes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a footstool next to him and slipped a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," Harry answered.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy who was looking straight ahead to allow the witch to fix up his collar. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully my father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Have you got your own broom?"

"No," said Harry.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, wondering if Quidditch was some kind of sport.

"I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they? But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all of my family has been, it's a sort of tradition. I'd be mortified if I was the one to break it and end up in something like Hufflepuff. I think I'd rather leave."

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less by the second.

"Ah, my bad. I heard a rumour that he's a sort of savage. Lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting his bed on fire."

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly. "He delivered my Hogwarts letter and is taking me shopping for school supplies."

"Is that so?" said the boy. "Hogwarts only sends staff to collect new students when they're from Muggle households. Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," said the other. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard if that's what you mean. I live with my aunt and uncle who are Muggles. I didn't even know I was magic until Hagrid came to get me."

"That's horrible!" The boy said aghast. "We've lost so much of our culture because of Muggles. If you want, I'd be happy to teach you our holidays and customs while at school?"