Pandora Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Twelve: The Boy in Madam Malkin's

~ 1st August, 1991 ~

Draco and I walked down Diagon Alley, our wands in our pockets. We didn't need them, exactly — after all, I only knew a couple of spells, and Draco knew none at all — but they made us feel important, like we were finally a proper witch and wizard.

"Well," Draco said, "where should we go first? Father's getting our books, and Mother's looking at wands."

He gave me a significant look, and I nodded to show I'd understood his hidden meaning. 'Looking at wands' had become our code for 'buying things for Aureli'. We both knew that everyone would find out about him as soon as we started Hogwarts — he would, after all, be joining me there as my pet — but until then, Father had decided we were to keep the golden phoenix's existence a secret. Neither Draco nor myself were quite sure why, since it would certainly be a mark of high status to be bonded to the only golden phoenix in existence, but we hadn't questioned it.

"Let's get the boring thing out of the way first," I said, indicating to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

The owner, Madam Malkin, was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Ah, the Malfoy twins," she said, as we walked in. "Come for your Hogwarts uniform?"

I nodded, standing on Draco's foot as he opened his mouth to say something scathing. He shot me a slightly irritated look, but stayed silent nonetheless.

"Got the lot here," Madam Malkin continued. "If you could just come through, we'll get you fitted up."

We followed her to the back of the shop, and got up onto the footstools she instructed us to. She slipped a long, black robe over each of our heads, then called over two other witches, who started pinning the robes to the right length.

"We should get ice cream after this," I said to Draco, as the shop door opened again.

Draco nodded in reply, then turned to look as another boy followed Madam Malkin into the fitting area. He was shorter than Draco and I, and thinner too, which was only accentuated by the fact he was wearing clothes that were far too big for him. His black hair was even messier than Draco's in the morning, and his bright green eyes were framed by round glasses, held together with sellotape. I knew from just one look at him that something wasn't quite right. I wasn't sure why or how — maybe it was because of how Father treated me at home — but I'd always been able to tell when something was off about a person. I usually wasn't sure what, exactly, but that feeling was always there, nagging away at me until I realised what was wrong.

"Hello," Draco said, as the boy got up on the stool next to him, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," the boy said.

"This is my sister." Draco nodded his head in my direction, and I smiled at the green-eyed boy, who was looking a little overwhelmed. "Our father's next door buying our books, and our Mother's up the street looking at wands," he continued. "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 Father into getting me one, and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

"Dray, you already have two Comet 260s," I said, rolling my eyes. "Just because the new Nimbus has finally come out—"

"—doesn't mean you need a new broom," he finished, doing an imitation of my voice and making me smile. Then, turning back to the boy next to him, he said, "Have you got your own broom?"

"No," the boy said.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," the boy said again, the look on his face suggesting he didn't have a clue what Draco was talking about. Perhaps he was Muggleborn?

"I do," Draco went on, apparently unaware of the other boy's discomfort. "Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree."

"Father says a lot of things are a crime," I reminded him.

Ignoring my comment, Draco continued questioning the boy.

"Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," the boy said for the third time.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know we'll be in Slytherin — all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff; I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"There's nothing wrong with being in Hufflepuff," I said, getting a little annoyed with Draco now. "Hufflepuffs are kind, loyal, and hard-working."

I gave the other boy an apologetic look, glancing towards Draco and rolling my eyes. The boy smiled and shook his head a little.

"I say, look at that man!" Draco said suddenly, nodding towards the front window.

I looked, and almost fell off my stool as I saw the man there. He was twice as tall as a regular man, and at least three times as wide. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but I could just make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all that hair. He was grinning at the boy next to Draco, holding up two ice creams.

"That's Hagrid," the boy said, seeming pleased to know something Draco didn't.

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

"He's the gamekeeper," the boy said.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's sort of savage — lives in a hut in the school grounds, and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," the boy said coldly.

I wanted to say something, but decided better of it as Father's voice seemed to echo around my mind, yelling that I was a Malfoy, and I had better remember it. I shuddered slightly.

"Do you?" Draco said, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," the boy said shortly, and I felt a wave of sympathy for him.

"I'm sorry," I said softly.

"Yes, sorry," Draco echoed, although he didn't sound sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean."

"And why does it matter anyway, Dray?" I said, finally getting fed up of his idiocy. "Magical or Muggle, Pureblood or not, who cares? Stop being such a git."

"I am not being a git," he said, frowning. "I just really don't think they ought to let the other sort in. They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways."

I gave an exasperated sigh and rolled my eyes yet again, but said nothing this time.

"Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine," Draco continued. "I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families." He turned back to the boy. "What's your surname, anyway?"

But before the boy could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and the boy, obviously glad for an excuse to stop talking to Draco, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," Draco said.

"See you at Hogwarts," I echoed, smiling again.

The boy just nodded, paid for his robes, and left the shop. As the door swung closed, I turned to Draco.

"You're such a git."

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Word count: 1259