Capítulo 5: 5
Keeping a low profile, Malfoy now stood on a special raised platform for taking measurements, with the Witch's assistant standing beside him, operating the tools with her wand.
- Hello, young man. What can I do for you? - The shopkeeper jumped up at once.
- Hello, I need some school robes. I'm applying to Hogwarts.
- Oh! Then you've come to the right place! I'll get the robes for you right away," she said as she ran into the back room behind the counter.
I looked at Malfoy and frowned. Why was he being measured and I wasn't? Like they already knew my size? It was strange. My thoughts were interrupted by Madam Malkin coming out of the back room and handing me the first robe.
- Please try it on. We'll alter it if it doesn't fit," she said... this... no words. Is this how they treat customers?
When I looked at the material of the uniform, I immediately saw its flaws. Firstly, the fabric was cheap. Secondly, it was obviously made by a novice, as evidenced by the uneven stitching of the threads. Also, Malfoy Jr's outfit had charms on it, but my uniform didn't. And it was immediately obvious that his clothes hadn't been treated separately, as the structure was woven into the fabric when it was sewn. Of course, I have no problem casting spells myself, but it's frustrating to be considered poor in absentia. Even though I am dressed in good quality prostrate clothing. It shows the qualifications of this madam.
- How much does she cost? - Malfoy asked suddenly, adjusting his clothes.
- Ten galleons, Mr Malfoy.
- I'll take it," he said. And I looked at the clothes in my hand and at the madam who was pressing them into my hands.
- How much is this set? - I asked her.
- Oh! It's nothing! A trifle! Twelve galleons," she cocked an eyebrow at me. Even Malfoy's eyes widened for a second when he heard the price. - These are very high quality clothes! Made from expensive and rare fabrics! On top of that, it has a full set of charms and...
- I see,' I replied, literally throwing the cloth in her face.
- Wear it yourself," I turned to leave. - I will tell my friends and those who will meet them that charlatans and unprofessionals work here.
- How dare you! - Madame suddenly exploded.
- I dare,' I said boldly to her face. - It's true. At the door, you did not even bother to assess the quality of my seemingly simple clothes. And professionals should be able to do that.
- Fi! - Malkin waved her hand. - As if I'd know anything about Muggle fashion!
- Hmm. Exactly, they should, to assess the customer's worthiness,' I repeated, seeing Draco's interested look on my face. - That's the whole point of selling clothes! In fact, a customer can wear anything, but you can't know his worth unless you assess the quality of his clothes, his facial expressions, his movements, his emotions. That can tell you a lot. He may have just got his first big pay cheque and decided to update his wardrobe. Or he might just like to dress simply, but in good quality, expensive clothes. Take my clothes, for example. They look simple, but the quality is immediately apparent. And a real gentleman with money will wear a style that suits him, but the quality of the clothes will be first class. An ordinary watch can appear to be from a rare collection and cost a fortune, even though it has no gold or diamonds in its composition.
- Who are you to lecture me? You upstart, get out of my shop!
- All right. I won't stay," and as I was about to leave, I heard the boy ask a question.
- Is it true what you said about a real gentleman?
- Yes, it is. Only an idiot would boast of an abundance of clothes. And a true gentleman will wear apparently ordinary, but high-quality and expensive clothes. After all, his name says more than his fancy clothes.
- And what is your name? - He tilted his head slightly to the right, showing interest.
- Harold James Potter. Just Harry to my friends," Madam suddenly turned pale and covered her mouth with her hand.
- And I'm Draco Malfoy. Just Draco to my friends," he smiled slightly, just at the corners of his lips.
- Nice to meet you, Heir Malfoy.
- Likewise, Heir Potter.
And in spite of Madame, he left the shop and walked further out, stopping at a shop that sold bags and suitcases with extended space. I stepped inside to the light ringing of a bell, walked along the shelves of various suitcases, bags, trunks and even cupboards, and approached the counter.
- Can I help you, young man? - The twenty-year-old brunette behind the counter greeted me politely with a casual smile.
- Yes. I need a bag with more space and automatic sorting.
- Yes, we have a few of those.
- An ordinary leather one," the salesman nodded and placed a black bag on the counter that smelled of fresh leather and had a tag on it with information about the manufacturer and the price. This particular bag was priced at six galleons.
- Anything else? - the man asked me politely as he caught my eye.
- Yes. I am interested in a suitcase with an apartment inside. With a courtyard and a garden, and buildings for potions, artefacts and other one-man workshops. And, of course, a house with all the comforts.
The seller hesitated, then scowled and ducked into a back room, returning soon after, shaking the dust off himself and his brown suitcase.
- There! The last available copy! Exactly the same suitcase had belonged to the famous Mr Salamander! The one who wrote the book about monsters and where they live! It has an anti-magic function and lots of useful stuff on top. Inside is a huge plot of land, with pens, a house and workshops for all occasions. But the price tag...
When I saw the price tag, my heart almost stopped. It's incredible! Two and a half thousand galleons! That's, that's... You could buy a nice flat in London for that! That's almost a hundred thousand pounds.
- Yes, it is a bit steep," sighed the salesman sadly. - But we can give it to you for two thousand two hundred galleons. I cannot offer less than that, I beg your pardon. You will not regret it. It really is a lot of space! And a huge area, the size of a valley! It's got artificial skies with day and night changes. Even the weather is real!
I could barely contain my greed, and with a suicide bomber's sigh, I reached into my inside pocket and opened the chequebook issued to me by Gringotts Bank. In the bottom right-hand corner, visible only to the book's owner, was the account balance. And there it was, after all the spending on companies and shares, an orphaned fifteen thousand and a penny galleons. As I worked out the amount, I told myself that such a suitcase would be really useful, to carry a house... that's really cool! And at Hogwarts, you wouldn't have to live in a dormitory with everyone else! And this way you could open the suitcase and go downstairs to your house with a huge room and all the amenities! Where no one would get in the way and pry into your business.
- I'll take it," I mumbled and signed the receipt. The salesman immediately blossomed, cashed my cheques, wiped down my suitcase and handed me my purchases. I paid cash for the bag.
I left the shop and walked towards another shop selling fabrics for all occasions. There I bought a few yards of various fabrics and asked if they had a room for tailoring, which they showed me.
It only cost me twenty galleons, and after sewing I had a lot of quality clothes! And underwear, and socks, and robes, and shirts, jumpers, trousers, underpants. The whole package. And the sellers couldn't get over the sight of me making and sewing it all with wandless magic. The fabric was cut, folded and sewn with the resurrected threads. At the end, I cast all sorts of spells on the clothes to repel dirt, water, dust, even air conditioning, as well as some protection against curses, the evil eye and even a few protective barriers. It was all powered by the wearer's source, but it still worked pretty well. I hadn't forgotten the spells that changed the colour of the fabric to match the faculty the student was enrolled in. They were simple, and I stole them from Malkin's outfits when I saw them.
After changing his clothes, he changed the appearance of his clothes into a suit and cloak of simpletons. On his feet he wore the classic padded shoes, which were actually dragonskin boots. The same was true of the protective inserts in his robe, which had temporarily become a cloak.
I left the shop with a bag on my shoulder and a suitcase in my hand, and made my way to Ollivander's. I wondered if any of the wands would fit, or would I have to make one?
Ollivander's was exactly as described in the books and the film. A bit dusty and abandoned.
I was greeted by the old man himself and he began his song about how a wand chooses its holder, not the holder of the wand. But frankly, I didn't care. He also remembered my parents and described their wands. And after measuring my arms, shoulders, belt and neck (?) he gave me a box with a wand made of holly with a phoenix feather core. But when I took it in my hands, it remained an ordinary stick. When I waved it and so on, nothing happened. Ollivander was shocked, but he quickly regained his bearings and began to bring out a large number of wand boxes. But none of them responded to my magic. The old man was already desperate when I got angry and, holding out my hand, said:
- If there is a magical attribute in this building that is compatible with me, I call to you, come!" and a wave of silvery glow of my core magic spread from me. Immediately there was a clang, a clang, and then the floor exploded, throwing me and the wizard aside. When the dust settled and I could open my eyes, there was a strange-looking wand in front of me, shimmering in all the colours of the rainbow. I reached out and took it in my hand. Immediately I felt that yes, this was it. My magic flowed through its core and it produced a kaleidoscope of colourful sparks.
But when he saw the wand in my hand, Ollivander literally turned white and clutched at his heart.
- It's... It's my great-great-great-grandfather's wand!
- Hmm? What's so special about it? - I looked around in surprise at the plain looking brown and smooth wand.
- Everything! Everything about it is wrong! My distant ancestor went completely mad at the end of his life! He started researching materials for wands that don't belong in this world! And before he died, he said he had created his true masterpiece. A thirteen inch wand made from Arlach wood! A tree whose seeds were brought to us by a magical anomaly! And a core of lunar silver hardened in dragon blood! Lunar Silver can only be extracted from a star that has fallen from the sky! This wand has never taken anyone, and whoever uses it will be instantly drained of their power! How do you feel, Mr Potter? - The old man's expression was tense. I've never seen such indignation from anyone.
- I feel fine. And my wand is perfectly all right," I shrugged. And Ollivander sighed deeply.
- The wand was an embarrassment to my family, kept in the deepest cellar. I started to forget about it, and then... I can't tell you any more about it than I've already told you. My great-grandfather didn't tell me who it was for or what its special properties were. He just said, "Strangers attract strangers". And I still don't understand what that means.
- I see,' I said, staring at the smooth, crimson wood of the wand, feeling my magic flow through it. It feels amazing. - I will buy it. How much?
- A galleon," the grandfather said with a sigh. - Don't look so shocked. I've looked for an owner in my time, but no one has come. And my father and grandfather before me. And you were the only one to recognise them. And many times my great-grandfather bequeathed it to whomever it suited, to give it away for exactly one gold coin.
I paid the wizard, bought a holster for my wand, put it on and was surprised to feel its warmth and the fact that it was ready at the first call. I hadn't imagined wands like that, to be honest...
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