Chapter Four: Meeting the First Fellow First Year

"Might as well get yeh uniforms," Hagrid said. He guided them to a building the proclaimed it was 'Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions'. "Listen. Would yeh two mind if I leave yeh fer a bit to kip back to the Leaky Cauldron fer a pick me up? I always hated those carts."

Hagrid, still looking a bit green, went off. Hattie watched as his hand patted over a new bulge in his coat and made a silent bet to herself that he was going to deal with that secret Hogwarts business. Not that she'd go out of her way to find out, but considered her bet won. After Hagrid turned the corner, they entered the shop alone but together. A squat smiling woman dressed all in mauve greeted them, Madam Malkin. "Hogwarts dears? I've got another young man just getting finished up right now."

Hattie and Harry leaned to see another boy in the back. He was pale with white blond hair slicked back. It made his chin look a bit pointy and as though he was trying too hard not to be a child. The boy stood on a footstool as another woman was pinning his black robes. Hattie wondered what his reaction would be if she inferred he looked as though he had just finished a bubbly bath soaking. Then she felt a bit glad robe uniforms looked much like a dress and probably wouldn't look as strange on her as it would be Harry.

The woman who had greeted them at the door, had Harry stand on the footstool next to the boy, slipping a robe over him and began pinning it up. Hattie watched curiously. Peering on as her brother and this other boy were sized up into their uniforms.

"Hello," spoke up the boy. "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," answered Harry.

"My father is next door buying books and my mother is up the street looking at wands." Hattie perked up. So the boy was their age. He was a first year student as well. He sounded bored though, she thought, not excited by the prospects of heading off to a magic school. Unlike them, it seemed this boy had known he was a wizard for a while and grown up in it. She couldn't imagine anyone who hadn't grown up in this world to sound emotionless about it all. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't know why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into buying me one and smuggle it in somehow. Have you got your own broom?"

Hattie had caught the disappointment and disapproval on her brother's face. It was ironic that the first person they met their age was so like Dudley, she wanted to laugh. People of all kinds were found everywhere and she thought this boy was far too cultured. Dudley would throw tantrums and she highly doubted this boy would do the same. The boy wanted to impress, be confident, and not be a child. However, he still was a child and Hattie wanted to see his face react.

"I do," she spoke up from behind them. The other boy startled at this, turning his head to see her properly. Hattie stepped lightly forward, bouncing a little as she peered up at him. "I don't see how you don't have one yet. How do you sweep the dust out of your house?"

He scowled. "Our family employs a house elf."

"Oh? So your house elf has a broom and you don't?"

"No," he sputtered. "House elves don't need brooms to sweep with as anyone would know. Racing brooms are different than normal brooms anyway."

"I can race with mine though. Always been faster though."

The boy looked sorely confused at this point and directed his attention back to Harry. "She is," Harry confirmed. "But that's just regular brooms."

"Oh. Do you play quidditch at all then?"

"No."

"I do."

Hattie laughed at the puffed up boy. Play sounded as though it was a sport on these racing brooms, which the boy had already admitted to not owning one yet. He gazed down at her and then turned up his nose to speak to Harry again. "Father says it's a crime if I don't get picked to play for my house. I must say I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," Harry said again.

"Well no one really knows until they get there do they?"

"Exactly," Hattie agreed. Harry and she didn't know about all of this until they arrived. She was sure they would learn more with every place and person they ran into from this world. The boy cracked a small smile at her agreeing. Hattie then decided to show exactly what she meant. "Do you play football? I'm sure you have a favorite team, most boys do. Me, I'm just pleased when I have the chance to play and be able to watch one. Although, I do admit I enjoy watching the Stonewall Lions with their new goalie. He's just brilliant."

Stumbling, the boy fumbled with his mouth a little before agreeing back with her. "Uh, yeah. Yes, they do have a decent goalie. As far as goalie's go. But football pales to compare to quidditch."

Hattie beamed. "See?" She poked Harry in his arm. "I'm not the only one who likes Cadwell as their goalie."

Harry laughed, struggling to hold it in. "Sure. Of course you aren't."

"I just said Cadwell was a decent goalie, didn't I?"

"We should play together," Hattie suggested quickly as she turned back to the other boy. "Or are you just a fan? Fine just to watch the game?"

Eyes wide at being caught out, the boy nodded. "I am. I prefer watching football," he lingered on the name a little. Then he looked down for a moment at his feet, before back up to her. "I play better on broom than feet."

"Football is still football," Hattie said. "You can still join me for a quick passing game perhaps with one once we are at Hogwarts? It can't hurt, probably improve your athletic ability for quidditch."

"Mmm, perhaps," he responded cautiously. Then he suddenly blinked and turned about to look out the shop. "I say, look at that man."

Hattie and Harry both turned to see Hagrid at the shop window, pointing at the two ice creams he held to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," Harry answered quickly. "He works at Hogwarts."

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

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. Hattie wrinkled her nose and wiggled her mouth a bit. This boy was raised far differently than they were if he was casually asking if another person was a servant like that. Even Dudley wouldn't blatantly refer to her brother and her like that even though they were treated like that in receiving most if not all of the household chores. Unless he wanted to get Harry riled up. But that was typical with the boys.

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

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.

"Do you?"

"I think it's a case of heard wrong," Hattie pipped in. "If you haven't actually spent time with him, you can't really know if they told you the truth. He seems to be a jolly fellow and cares about others from the time we've spent with him today, don't you think?"

Harry scowled at her, knowing she was doing the same thing Hattie did when it came to him and Dudley. "Yes," he agreed reluctantly.

"Hm. Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead."

Hattie scowled at Harry and nudged him. He scowled back. She sighed.

"Oh. Sorry." The other boy didn't look much sorry at all. He was giving Harry a strange look. "But they were our kind weren't they?"

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

Hattie glared at her brother. Harry was setting right into hating this boy without taking the time to understand the other probably had no idea what was wrong.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, they're just not the same."

"Everyone being the same is just dull though," Hattie interrupted the boy's words. He frowned a little at her, obviously not used to being interrupted in repeating those beliefs or interrupted in general.

He pursed his lips, thinking before he spoke up more slowly than when he began. "But they should keep it in the old wizard families, don't you think? The other sort, well, they haven't even been brought up to know the wizarding ways. I'm told some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter. Imagine."

"You seem pretty well informed," Hattie said. She grinned as he preened at the compliment. The boy clearly wanted to make a great impression and to sound impressive. He just had no idea of how some of it sounded to certain people. "Why don't you tell them all about quidditch and such?"

"Oh, everyone should know about quidditch." The boy's eyes lit up more than they had during the entire conversation. Hattie beamed back at him. She had hit upon something the boy really cared about more than anything he said of keeping it to the old families in the wizard world.

"Practice on me," Hattie said quickly. "Quidditch? Why that's a funny sounding name. Sounds a bit like dealing quid pro quo, this or that."

"Nothing like that, quidditch is much better than a Latin phrase. See it's a sport played on brooms."

Hattie raised a finger and wagged it. "Racing brooms that do what?"

"That fly of course, you know that. The game involves two teams and each team has three chasers, two beaters, a keeper, and of course, the most important player called the seeker. I plan to be the seeker for my house," the boy said excitedly.

"Impressive."

But before Hattie could say anymore, Madam Malkin came over. "That's it. Done with you dear."

Harry hopped down quickly.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts I suppose," the boy said as he stepped off of his own footstool.

Hattie made her way forward and the boy paused a little, but then put his hand out for her. She took it and stepped up onto his vacated footstool. Well, the boy certainly had been raised differently to offer her a hand. It was actually nice, even though she knew he was probably taught to do this.

"Thank you."

Harry snorted.

The boy arched an eyebrow at her brother and sneered at him, but turned back to give her a small quirk of his mouth that could pass for a smile. "You're welcome."

His eyes flickered down and he realized he still held her hand. The boy swiftly took it back.

"Thanks for practicing on me. You'll tell me more at Hogwarts, correct?"

Confusion flickered across his face. "You can help me tell the other kind about important things like quidditch."

Hattie shook her head. "Only as much as you've told me and what I've guessed from the advertisements outside of the broom shop outside. I should tell you about football in return. A sport for a sport."

His jaw dropped and Hattie smiled. The boy looked fairly cute when he dropped his guard.

"You, you…you said for practice. You mean you're a mu…a muggleborn?"

"Well," Hattie trailed off. "You'd have to properly explain to me what that means for me to answer you properly."

The boy closed his mouth, still wide eyed at her. "I…I must be going." He spun and straightened his shoulders back once again. "Have those robes sent to Malfoy Manor." With that, the boy strutted out of there.

Harry snorted and laughed. "Nice one Hattie! Did you see his face?"

She smacked him over his head. "I was being nice! Didn't you notice how he just wanted to impress us with his knowledge? Most of it was things he had heard from other people or agreeing with me about football to not sound as if he didn't know something. I had guessed football wasn't as big here with that broom shop, but I don't think he knew anything about football. I at least cracked his mask of trying to be like an adult and all knowing when asking about quidditch."

"He's like Dudley. You started treating him like Dudley," Harry accused. He huffed. "But did you hear what he said with—"

"Harry."

"Fine. I won't say anything to him if he doesn't say anything like that to us again."

"Ask about quidditch."

"Sure," Harry drawled out his agreement. But then he grinned. "I still know totally did that on purpose Hattie."

She pushed his shoulder. "Be quiet. And only because I wanted to see him act like a kid instead of trying to be an adult," she admitted.

Madam Malkin came over to Hattie. "Alright dear. Let's get you started now."

Harry grinned from behind the squat lady. "Knew you did it on purpose. I'm gunna go out and tell Hagrid you'll be out soon."

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