Fixing the past (Sirry)

Chapter 5

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Madam Malkin was a plump, smiling witch, dressed in mauve colour.

For some strange and twisted reason, Hermione pushed him into view first.

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

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

Harry now understood his friend and had to hold to roll his eyes, because seriously, she couldn't sacrifice him every time she wanted to avoid Draco, though it was understandable, he had to be a prat and better him to put up with it than she who couldn't defend herself, even her parents stayed outside of the shop, so they were under the scrutinizing gaze of their uncles, and no trace of their beloved Aunt Andromeda or cousin Tonks to save them.

"Hello" the boy said "Hogwarts too?"

He wanted to laugh, he knew that Draco would break and just in time.

"Yes" Harry replied.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. Harry was surprised that he didn't introduce in the proper way and he cast a glance at his uncles only to find that they were deliberately ignoring him. "Then I'm going to drag them off to took 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."

Harry remembered Dudley, so much that he was startled for a moment, and the worst or best thing was that Hermione was not with them because she was on the other side of the store, his cousin had changed, but he could not forget that sometimes it takes be cold as ice and pretend to be a fucking son of a bitch. That reminder would be his mantra from now on when he met Draco at Hogwarts.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry.

He wasn't lying, his aunt Walburga had the crazy idea that if they gave him his own broom he would escape to fly around, so the broom he had wasn't technically his as it was hidden in his uncle's room. It wasn't as if his aunt's concerns weren't unfounded, he was sometimes surprised by how intuitive Lady Black was.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, now lying blatantly, his cousin knew it, his uncles knew it and maybe that's why they stared at him as if memorizing his face in the obvious lie to remember his features for a next time, sadly, his face was blank.

"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, he was glad his uncles couldn't punish him later for the lies they asked him to tell.

He would have said them the same, but he was saved by having the permission.

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

"Mmm" Harry replied, looking deliberately to the black-haired witch who threw daggers at the blonde for daring to offend her house.

Apparently Draco also noticed it along with the stern look that Orion gave him, because he decided to change the subject, at least he did not dare to mention Hermione's parents, who just appeared in the front window with ice cream in their hands and a pink haired girl next to them eating hers, while making like she was looking away.