When the Malfoys emerged from the snow-white building that towered above the surrounding shops, the street was bathed in even brighter sunlight.
The goblin guards, dressed in scarlet and gold-trimmed uniforms, bowed to them and saw them off, as befitted Gringotts' VIP clients.
In Diagon Alley, the number of wizards coming and going had gradually increased, and they moved in an endless stream along the narrow cobblestone street.
With the start of the school year just around the corner, almost all the young wizards in Britain were coming here to buy school supplies. It was hard to keep one's distance from others—you risked bumping into someone wherever you went.
The Malfoys didn't really enjoy this level of excitement. They stood on the steps of Gringotts, none of them wanting to step into the bustling crowd just yet.
"These people have made Diagon Alley as crowded as a pigsty," Lucius said impatiently, squinting.
"We'll split up; that will be faster," Narcissa decided quickly.
"Very well, I'll go to Flourish and Blotts to buy the books," Lucius said decisively, toying with his snake-headed cane.
"Isn't it ladies first? Don't I have a choice?" Narcissa glanced at her husband with haughty blue eyes, her tone slightly defiant.
"A proper gentleman wouldn't let his wife walk around the streets carrying a stack of thick books. Cissy, why don't you go to Ollivanders and look at Draco's wand? Or see if they have any new robes?" Lucius looked at Narcissa, a hint of tenderness flickering in his arrogant grey eyes.
"Lucius, I'm buying things for Draco today." Narcissa playfully pinched Lucius's arm. "I'm going to Ollivanders to get him the best wand I can find. Draco, why don't you go to Madam Malkin's and order your wizarding robes first, then come and meet me, all right?"
"I have no objection," Draco said calmly.
Why hadn't he noticed these details in his past life—their constant little gestures?
In this life, now that he was paying close attention to everything, he had discovered that his parents had been quietly showing their affection in front of him all along.
In his previous life, Draco Malfoy had been a blind, foolish son who lived in his own world.
Before long, Draco was standing on a footstool in Madam Malkin's robe shop, patiently letting a young witch measure him and pin his robes.
His attention wasn't on the robes. Through the shop window, he could vaguely see Potter and the gamekeeper, Hagrid, walking towards the shop.
There was no mistaking him for anyone else: the hulking, elephant-like gamekeeper. His fierce, savage face, half hidden behind his beard, and his beetle-like eyes made him hard to miss in a crowd.
Before Potter arrived, Draco, abandoning his usual arrogance, asked Madam Malkin gently, "Madam, may I ask if you sell invisibility cloaks here?"
"Child, why are you asking this? This is not a question a little boy should ask…" Madam Malkin was a short, plump woman dressed in purple, who greeted her customers with a warm smile.
But anyone who took her for easy to talk to was being naive. Draco knew very well that the seemingly gentle Madam Malkin was shrewd and discreet; she wouldn't easily sell such high-end, expensive magical fabric to a young boy just about to start school.
At this moment, she even looked at Draco with suspicion, simply because he had made such an inappropriate request for his age.
But a true Malfoy always knows how to use sweet talk and deception to achieve his goals.
"I'm asking on behalf of my mother. You know, she's busy buying other things for me and doesn't have time to come over." He gave a naive smile, trying to look serious.
Madam Malkin believed his story. She smiled warmly again and said to him, "In that case, my dear boy, I'll give you my business card and catalogue. Mrs. Malfoy can order anytime by owl, with just her signature. We have the means to provide the finest magical clothing for wizarding families."
By the time Potter pushed open the door, the business card and catalogue were already quietly tucked into Draco's dragon-hide storage pouch. This kind of expandable pouch is only the size of a palm on the outside, but has dozens of square metres of space inside. It is weightless to carry and very popular among wizards.
The invisibility cloak was something wizards coveted even more; it was neither cheap nor common. Draco remembered that in his first year he had cost Slytherin fifty points for sneaking out of the castle at night.
With one, doing something secretly at Hogwarts would be much more discreet. Draco vaguely remembered that Potter had an invisibility cloak, and he'd bet his hair that Potter used it quite a bit.
While Draco was lost in thought, Madam Malkin had already had Harry Potter stand on another footstool next to him and begun taking his measurements.
Draco was determined to appear as amiable as possible. He wanted to side with Potter, and he couldn't afford to mess things up again.
"Hello, are you going to Hogwarts too?" Draco asked tentatively.
"Yes," Potter said. He looked a little uneasy.
At this point, Potter was probably completely ignorant of the wizarding world. It was said that before coming to Hogwarts, he had lived with a Muggle family. That life... Draco subtly glanced at Harry's clothes and shoes under his robes... It seemed that his Muggle family hadn't treated him well.
For a moment, Draco was at a loss for how to start a conversation. At a time like this, almost any topic would sound pretentious.
If he brought up parents, Potter was an orphan. If he brought up family background, although the Potters were wealthy, it was clear that the money had never reached Potter's pocket. And if he brought up pure-blood versus half-blood, Draco would swear on every Galleon in his pocket that Potter would once again look at him with disgust, just as he remembered.
Let's talk about something Potter likes—Quidditch?
But had Potter ever even touched a flying broomstick?
Even the most interesting topic could become a heavy psychological burden for someone so ignorant.
"Do you know which House you'll be assigned to?" After thinking for a while, Draco could only pick a common, boring topic.
"I don't know." Potter seemed even more uneasy.
Clearly, Potter had no concept of "sorting."
Draco suddenly felt a strange sense of sympathy for him.
Is it really all right to enrol at Hogwarts without knowing anything about it?
What exactly has he gone through all these years?
Didn't those irresponsible Muggle relatives tell him anything?
Look at him, he looks like a dumb goose waiting to be slaughtered.
With a slight sigh, Draco tried to put on a friendly rather than mocking smile. He carefully added a note of understanding to his tone as he said to the boy, "Don't be nervous. I can tell you're not very familiar with Hogwarts. If you don't mind, I can tell you about it."
The dark-haired boy looked at him curiously and nodded.
"Hogwarts has four Houses: Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. They're named after the four founders." Draco glanced at him, noticing a look of sudden understanding on his face.
"The four Houses look for different qualities in their students. For example, Slytherin prefers students with ambition and aspirations, while Gryffindor prefers students with courage and a love of adventure—" Draco noticed that Potter remained silent but looked very serious, as if he were memorising these points.
How pathetic! These were all things every young wizard knew, yet Potter treated them like treasures.
What has Dumbledore been doing all these years?
His beloved "saviour" is living like this, and he doesn't even think about doing anything about it?
Draco was complaining inwardly, but his mouth didn't stop. He continued to explain dutifully, "Ravenclaw values wisdom and erudition, while Hufflepuff prefers loyalty and integrity." Potter nodded in agreement.
"Most people want to go to Gryffindor. The current headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore, was a Gryffindor too." Draco observed Potter's thoughtful expression and guessed that he must really yearn for Gryffindor.
"Do you want to get into Gryffindor too?" Potter suddenly asked.
"No," Draco said bluntly. "I'll probably go to Slytherin. My parents were both Slytherins."
Draco had never considered any other House, not even after being reborn.
He was a true Slytherin through and through, and he had never thought there was anything wrong with the House.
He said casually, "Some people think that everyone who goes to Slytherin is a dark wizard. Because the Dark Lord was also in Slytherin..."
As Draco had expected, Potter finally looked at him properly.
"Voldemort... also went to Hogwarts?" Potter's expression showed some unease.
"Yes," Draco replied casually, but his words carried a deeper meaning. "Hogwarts has been around for a thousand years, and it has only produced one person like him. Slytherin has also produced many excellent wizards in its early years. Not every Slytherin will become the Dark Lord. To use the Dark Lord's mistake to negate the achievements of an entire House is a bit of a generalisation, isn't it?"
Potter didn't say anything more, but nodded silently again.
Draco concluded, "In short, I think it's not advisable to label someone based solely on superficial appearances before you truly understand them."
Potter, deep in thought, glanced at him, seemingly moved.
Draco smiled slightly and turned to Potter. "Like that man outside," he said, gesturing with his chin towards Hagrid, who stood outside the shop window holding two ice creams. "An ordinary person would be scared of such a big man and think he must be a savage."
He noticed Potter's unconvinced expression and changed tack. "But I don't think that's necessarily the case. I'll bet you a Chocolate Frog that he's actually quite nice to his friends."
"Of course." Potter seemed a little pleased, and he finally opened up. "I know him; he works at Hogwarts."
"He's the gamekeeper, isn't he?" Draco said casually.
"You know him too?" Potter asked.
"He seems to have a knack for magical creatures. Maybe one day we can learn something from him." Draco suddenly remembered that damned hippogriff from third year.
He curled his lip, automatically ignoring the fact that he had provoked the beast first.
And then there were the endless Blast-Ended Skrewts and flobberworms.
Merlin... what could students possibly learn from Rubeus Hagrid? Useless trivia about Blast-Ended Skrewts?
Potter didn't pick up on the subtle sarcasm in Draco's words. He took the initiative to keep the conversation going. "Oh, he's a nice man. He's come with me to help buy my things."
"You'll make a lot more friends at Hogwarts," Draco said.
He wisely refrained from asking why Harry's parents weren't there to take him shopping.
Potter was silent for a moment. He glanced at Draco, then asked cautiously, "What's a Chocolate Frog?"
"Merlin, he doesn't even know that?" Draco sighed.
"A kind of wizard sweet. Frog-shaped chocolates, with a wizard card inside that you can collect…" Draco explained with enthusiasm.
As he spoke, he suddenly remembered his past life, when he had taken the initiative to befriend Potter on the Hogwarts Express, only to be rebuffed.
Potter must have really liked them; there had been a huge pile of Chocolate Frogs on the table.
Goyle, that good-for-nothing, had taken Potter's Chocolate Frog without asking and got bitten by Weasley's stupid rat.
Actually, it was quite degrading—taking things without asking.
However, Draco had been too angry at that moment to stop Goyle.
At that time, he had reached out his hand to Potter, but Potter had refused, saying coldly, "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."
That remark had really hurt his self-esteem.
Thinking of this, Draco maintained a reserved smile, but his chest tightened with an ache he couldn't help.
"My dear, the measurements are done," said Madam Malkin.
Let's call it a day while we're ahead and the atmosphere is still pleasant. Draco lightly jumped off the footstool.
"Then we'll meet at Hogwarts. I am Draco Malfoy, and you are…" At this moment, though his heart pounded with trepidation, his face wore an expression of unwavering confidence as he extended his hand to Potter—
"I'm Harry, Harry Potter." Potter quickly reached out and shook Draco's hand.
"Well, nice to meet you, Harry Potter." Draco smiled faintly, his pale face calm, and strolled out of Madam Malkin's.
That went fairly smoothly, didn't it? He breathed a sigh of relief the moment the shop door closed behind him.
Side Story One: My First Friend (Harry's Perspective)
During his eleven years in the Muggle world, Harry had often been teased by his peers for his baggy clothes and glasses held together with Sellotape.
Before his classmates even had a chance to understand what kind of person he was, they were put off by his scruffy appearance and scared away by the threats of Dudley and his gang. For example, when they were divided into groups for PE class in primary school, he was always the last one left.
The neighbours also thought he was abnormal—thanks to years of rumours spread by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.
Draco was the first person to tell him that you can't judge a book by its cover.
"It's not advisable to label someone based solely on superficial appearances before you truly understand them." Harry had felt a warmth in his heart when the platinum-haired boy said those words.
He could sense that Draco was different from him.
His attire, the tone of his voice, and the elegance and refinement he gave off without even trying made Harry realise, in a daze, that they were from two different worlds.
His bearing carried the confidence typical of children from wealthy families.
He seemed to have never been mistreated by the world. This made Harry feel somewhat ashamed.
Draco had extended a friendly gesture to him and even shaken his hand. He was somewhat arrogant and self-important, but Harry hadn't found him annoying when he spoke; in fact, he thought there was some truth to his words.
He had even noticed Harry's embarrassment and explained a bit about the Hogwarts Houses and the Sorting. This was new knowledge for Harry, and Draco hadn't been impatient; Harry was rather grateful.
Moreover, when Draco heard his name, he had shown neither the disgust of a Muggle-born child nor the astonishment of a wizard-born child; instead, he had remained remarkably calm.
This was a kind of calm, ease, and equality that Harry had never experienced before.
Hagrid was Harry's first friend in the wizarding world. But when it came to friends his own age, Draco was probably the first.
Even if he wanted to go to Slytherin, he was different from Voldemort—who had also been in Slytherin—wasn't he?