Metanoia • Harry Potter • Book I

Chapter 6

Word Count: 2791

One wild cart-ride later, the three of them were standing outside Gringotts, blinking heavily at the unnatural appearance of sunshine. Keziah bounced giddily on her heels. She had seen a chaotic-looking pet shop and she was eager to explore it.

"Hagrid, can we look for pets first?" she asked, pulling on his coat.

"I think we might as well get yer uniform first," Hagrid said, pushing them gently towards a large purple shop titled 'Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions'. "I think I migh' slip off fer a pick-me-up a' the Leaky Cauldron, if it's alright with you guys."

"It's not a problem, Hagrid," Keziah said brightly, pulling Harry into the clothes shop. As they entered, a tiny bell chimed above their heads and a squat middle-aged witch, dressed solidly in mauve, with far too much makeup on, swooped down on them. Keziah's confidence was quickly depleting.

"Hogwarts, dearies?" she asked brightly, looping her fingers around her offensively-orange curls. "Got a lot of you here. I'm serving a young man just now, in fact."

She patted Keziah's cheek affectionately, to which she was promptly brushed off, and led them to the back. A boy with a pointed, pale face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. A third witch appeared from behind the racks and manoeuvred Keziah next to the boy, slipping a tight-fitting robe over her that hung to her knees.

"Watch it! I'm not that small," she hissed. The boy looked up and his face contorted into a sneer.

"Let me guess. Red hair, freckles. You're a Weasley, aren't you?" he asked haughtily.

"Actually," Keziah smiled, "I'm a Potter. That's my brother, Harry."

Keziah pointed at Harry, who was a few feet away. The boy paled even further, smoothing his hair back, swallowing.

"Potter? You're the sister, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'd think that's how siblings worked," Keziah said dryly.

"Hmmm. Well, I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," Draco said, pompously.

"Aren't you important, saying your name twice. Let me guess, your father is some bigshot who has a ton of money and you think that makes you special?" Keziah asked, shrewdly. Draco's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't back down.

"Quite the Auror, aren't you Potter? Since you were raised by muggles, I'll let you off this time and offer you some advice instead. In our world, there are some families– that have more importance. You'd better learn how to pick wisely,"

"If you're talking about racist-ass purebloods, you can stop right now. I might be raised by muggles but I'm not stupid," she hissed. Draco pinkened slightly and his face hardened.

"You think you're invincible, don't you Potter? Just because of your surname? Well, that's not going to help you. Harry has the scar, not you," he said lowly, smirking as the sales-witch patted his shoulder and led him to the register. Keziah scowled at his retreating back.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Harry popped up around her elbow, squinting off in the direction Draco had gone.

"Just some stuck-up prick. It doesn't matter. Look!" she pointed at Hagrid, who was standing in the window, holding three large ice creams. Harry licked his lips in anticipation before being dragged back to his own corner.

A few annoying minutes later, they were finished up, arms full of clothes and galleons paid. Madame Malkin magicked their uniforms into a purple bag and shooed them away.

Hagrid handed Harry and Keziah their ice creams, gently taking the shopping from her. Keziah licked her dessert and sighed, the sweetness reaching the tips of her fingers.