"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding towards Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron?" I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.
Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.
"Hogwarts, dear?" She asked, when Harry started to speak. "Got a lot here- abother young man being fitted up now, in fact."
In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool whilt 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.
"Hello," said the boy. "Hogwarts, too?" (A/N- The story up until this point is copyright of J.K. Rowling and solely used for entertainment and to make the story flow.)
"Yeah." said Harry.
"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. (A/N- correction, here the story becomes my own.)
"Do you have a broom?"
"No," Harry said. "I only found out I was a wizard yesterday." The boy slightly wrinkles his nose, but attempts to be pleasant still.
"Muggle-born?" He asks in a strained voice.
"No. My parents were wizards, but were killed when I was young. I was sent to live with my muggle relatives. The pale boy looks as though he has something more to say, but instead switches the subject.
"Have you heard of Quidditch yet? I know you haven't known long… but it's really big in the wizarding world. Daddy says it's a crime not to play for your house."
"House?" Harry asks confused.
"Your house is where you go at Hogwarts. There are four, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor." He sneers at the end.
"Is Gryffindor bad?" Harry asks, yet again confused by his new world.
"Well, not technically, but it is a bunch of 'brave souls' who think there better than everyone. I am going to be in Slytherin. My whole family was." The boy says.
"I think that they all sound like decent houses. None of them really bad."
"I say, look at that man!" He points at Hagrid out the window, who is grinning holding an ice cream in each hand.
"That's Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts." Harry said, proud to know something the boy didn't.
"Oh." Said the boy. "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant isn't he?" Harry shakes his head, not liking the boy so much anymore.
"He is gamekeeper. He has been real nice showing me around, and help me get my stuff." He says firmly.
"Oh, rumor has it that he was sort of a drunk savage. BUT, you know how rumors are." he says quickly at the look on Harry's face. "Sorry, my family has… standards. And people like him, aren't accepted in my society."
"Like him?" Harry raises an eyebrow at the rude boy.
"Not…wizard born."
"Muggles can have wizard children?"
"Not decent ones, but yeah, they can do magic."
"When you say not decent, are you actually describing the ability level, or your 'standards'." Harry sighs annoyed.
"Standards." The boy says quietly.
"That's it, your done, my dear." Interrupts Madam Malkin. Harry steps down, not entirely sad to be rid of the drawling boy.
"Hey, What's your name? I'll save you a seat on the train." He says in what seems to be unusual kindness.
"Er… Harry." Harry says.
"You can't mean…Harry Potter?" Curiosity overtakes Harry for a moment.
"How did you know?" He asks genuinely.
"You can't be serious, can you? Everybody knows you." Harry stares blankly at him.
"You're Harry Potter!" He says as though this will magically clear things up. He shrugs.
"Yeah, but I don't understand why people know me, or Quidditch, or anything." He sighs.
"Harry, have you heard of You-Know-Who?" Harry nods.
"That's why." He says simply. "You lived, so we, the wizarding community, survived." Harry's jaw drops.
"What's, er, your name?" Harry stammers.
"Draco, Draco Malfoy." He shakes Harry's hand.
"All right dears, your done." Madam Malkin interupts.
"Well, se you on the train?" Draco asks.
"Sure…"