Chapter 4: Shopping
"Don't go down Knockturn alley! And be back home by five for your dinner!" Mrs. Weasley called after Hermione and Harriet. Ron looked grumpy to have been left behind, but he knew he'd be quickly bored out of his skull with the day of shopping Hermione had planned. He'd at first assumed that she meant spending the day in Flourish and Blotts, but was even more horrified when she'd explained that she and Harriet were going to get their hair cut, then to muggle womenswear shops. Helping his mother find secondhand robes to fit Ginny was bad, but it was better than an endless parade of muggle shops. At least he might get a few minutes in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harriet wasn't entirely sure that she didn't just want to spend the day in there too.
"I need to go to Gringotts first, to change some money," she said. Hermione just nodded. She'd just opened her own vault a month ago, in preparation for starting a job after school.
The tall white building had been a poignant symbol of the wizarding world for Harriet, ever since her first trip here with Hagrid. Her vault key was safe in her pocket, but she remembered what Severus had said about having more than one vault. She and Hermione passed the goblins at the front door and entered the main hall, lined with goblins at tall desks.
Harriet approached a free goblin. "Good morning," she said.
The goblin looked up. "Good morning, Miss Potter," he said solicitously. "We have been expecting you. Wait here, please." He slid off his tall stool and wandered into an office.
"What's that about?" Hermione asked. "How come he knew exactly who you are? He didn't even seem surprised."
Harriet shrugged. "Sn… I mean, our teachers thought that they might recognise me. Apparently they work from magical signatures, not appearances."
The goblin reappeared with three keys clutched loosely in his hand, and a roll of parchment. "A summary of your accounts and holdings, Miss Potter," he said, holding out the scroll, "and the keys to your vaults. This one," he handed over a little silver key, "is the key to the vault held by Mrs. Lily Potter, this key is for the personal vault of Mr. James Potter." Finally, he held out a large ornate key, set with a ruby. "This is the key for the hereditary Potter vault. Would you like to inspect the contents now?" Hermione gasped at the glimmering key.
Harriet shook her head. "Not today, thanks. I've got some other things I need to take care. I just need to make a withdrawal from my vault."
"Very well, Miss. If you would follow me, please?"
Twenty minutes later, with her stock of galleons replenished and a hefty wad of twenty pound notes in her pocket, Harriet and Hermione headed out into muggle London.
"What do you think is in the Potter vault?" Hermione wanted to know. "Did you even know you had other vaults?"
"Not until two days ago," Harriet admitted. "I thought there was enough to last a lifetime in the vault I knew about."
"Well, I know where to go if I'm ever penniless," Hermione joked, steering Harriet into a hair salon.
It was still early enough to be quiet. Harriet had no idea what to say when the stylist asked what she wanted. Luckily, Hermione jumped in. "A wash, cut and blow dry, please, for both of us. Harriet wants a fringe cut in, and taken up to shoulder length. I just want a trim, please."
Harriet soon found herself bent over a sink as the hairdresser worked her long, sharp nails along her scalp, rubbing in shampoo. "You've got lovely thick hair," she told her charge. "What products do you use?"
"Erm, just shampoo," Harriet said, not sure that there was anything else.
"Ooh, hair like yours really needs a good conditioner. It'll make it much easier to comb. We sell a lovely one. It'll make your hair so silky."
"Okay," Harriet agreed, feeling stupid. Figuring out all this girl stuff was going to be hard, she decided. She really hoped Hermione was up to being asked lots of stupid questions. Asking Hermione had to be better than another 'girl talk' with Mrs. Weasley.
"There, all done," her hairdresser said half an hour later, holding a mirror up behind Harriet to show her the back of her head. She did feel much lighter, and she hoped that less hair meant less to constantly get in her face
The messiness of her boy hair had been hiding soft waves. A sideswept fringe hid the lightning scar completely. Harriet smiled. "It looks great, thank you." The hairdresser insisted on selling her not only conditioner, but the matching shampoo and some kind of mousse. As appreciated as the haircut was, Harriet had the distinct impression that she'd been duped on the products. She was sure that none of them could match to their magical alternatives, like sleekeazy. She'd seen the results on Hermione's hair at the Yule Ball.
The rest of the morning passed in a whirl of shops that Hermione dragged Harriet in and out of at breakneck speed. In every one, Hermione piled clothes in Harriet's arms and dispatched her to the fitting rooms, making her try on and model outfit after outfit to be 'yay-ed' or 'nay-ed'. In Next, the shop assistant even stood and watched, giving her own opinion. Hermione even talked Harriet into some pink tops, although Harriet was sure that Ron would wet himself laughing; and if he didn't, the twins would. Twice, the girls had to duck into deserted alleys to shrink down the shopping bags, and Harriet's supply of muggle money was much diminished by the time Hermione called a stop for lunch.
"So," Hermione said, pulling a folded piece of paper and a pen from her bag after they'd ordered, "You had plenty of underwear. We've bought you jeans, t-shirts, jumpers…" she started ticking items off her list. "Blouses, school skirts, a dress… we just need to get you some tights, some school shoes, and toiletries. Then we can go back to Diagon Alley and get school robes. Your old ones will be too big."
"I'm still not convinced on the dress," Harriet grumbled. It was a dark green affair, at least bringing out the colour of her eyes, but it felt hideously girly to Harriet. She still felt a little like some kind of cross-dressing fraud in her new girl's clothes.
"You looked amazing in it. You should have something nice," Hermione responded. She was still distracted by her list. "Maybe we should get you something more formal too… and some high heels."
"I am not wearing high heels," Harriet said firmly. "They look like death traps. I like my feet on the ground if my arse isn't on a broom."
Hermione tried to glare, but couldn't help a chuckle overflowing. "Okay, then, no high heels for now," she acquiesced. "I suppose if you're invited to any formal events, you can get a dress nearer the time." She folded up her list again, tucking it back in her handbag.
Harriet grinned slyly and pulled the scroll she'd received from the Gringotts goblins from her pocket. "I don't know about you," she said, "but I'm dying to know what's on here."
Hermione's eyes lit up with the prospect of knowing what was in the Potter vault. "I didn't want to ask in case it was rude," she admitted.
Harriet grinned. "Nah, you're my best friend. Who else can I share this with if not you and Ron?" She unrolled the parchment and laid it flat on the table, weighing each end down with their drinks.
Contents of the vaults belonging to Miss Harriet Potter as of the 2nd of August, 1996
Vault 3359, belonging to Harriet Potter
6439 galleons, nine sickles and 12 knuts
Deeds to the properties: 12 Grimmauld Place
Black Vineyards, Bordeaux
Vault 2981, belonging to Harriet Potter, bequeathed by the late Lily Potter
3908 Galleons and 23 knuts
One platinum and diamond engagement ring
One platinum wedding ring
One gold pendant
Four pairs of earrings in silver
Vault 2018, belonging to Harriet Potter, bequeathed by the late James Potter
7849 galleons, 18 sickles and 2 knuts
One golden snitch
One platinum wedding ring
Vault 904- Potter vault
102983 galleons, 16 sickles and three knuts
One 22 carat gold ring belonging to the head of the Potter household
Eighteen assorted works of art, valued at 5000 galleons
One chest of jewels, comprising eight necklaces, five bracelets, seven rings, eight pairs of earrings, one tiara, three unset diamonds together equalling six carats and 24 small gems (rubies, emeralds, sapphires)
106 piece dinner set bearing the Potter crest
98 piece cutlery canteen in sterling silver
60 piece dinner set in red and gold
One suit of armour
Deeds to the properties: Potter house, Godric's Hollow
74 Marylebone Road, London
12 Witch's Crescent, Edinburgh
At present, 20 galleons are removed each month from vault 2018 and placed into vault 3359, on instruction from James Potter, dated 19th November 1979.
Your personal banker is the goblin Silverjoy. Please contact him with any instructions regarding your holdings or banking needs.
"I have a suit of armour?" was all Harriet could manage.
"Never mind the suit of armour, you've got over a hundred thousand galleons just in cash! Plus five houses- I know one's a ruin and one's order headquarters, but still!" Hermione struggled to keep her voice to appropriate levels. She quickly rolled the parchment and shoved it back towards Harriet, seconds before their food arrived.
Harriet poked her ravioli with her fork. She'd known for years that she was wealthy: the healthy pile of gold in her vault had reassured her of that. She'd never asked for it to be counted, though; until Severus had told her, she hadn't known that the goblins offered such a service. But before, it had just been a pile of gold. She'd had no idea that it was just what her parents had put aside for her, and that there was more than she could even conceive of in another, older vault.
"How much room does a hundred-piece dinner set take up, d'you think?" she eventually asked Hermione, and popped a piece of ravioli in her mouth. "Why is it even in a bank and not one of the houses?"
"I've no idea," her friend replied, "but, God, what you could do with that gold! All the people you could help! You could give charitable donations until you went blue in the face and not dent that lot!"
Trust Hermione to think of charities, Harriet thought with a grin. If it were Ron, he'd be calculating the cost of broomsticks and a lifetime season ticket to the Canons, with a side of Honeydukes sweets.
"Yeah, that's a lot of wooly hats and socks," Harriet said, carefully keeping a straight face.
Hermione reached across the table to punch her lightly on the arm. "Be nice," she said, but her grin and light tone belied her words.
Both girls were relieved to get back to Diagon Alley. Harriet was exhausted from the whirlwind trips in and out of changing rooms, and thought she'd never want to get dressed again. Despite the fact that both witches had been raised in the muggle world, the wizarding one was their safe space, the world where they didn't have to hide. Most witches and wizards were uncomfortable when out and about amongst muggles, because the muggles couldn't comprehend them, and they had to completely hide such a large part of their identities, their very selves. To a witch or wizard, to live without magic was unthinkable. Even Hagrid kept his wand pieces in his pink umbrella.
"Come on," Hermione said. "Let's get Madam Malkin's out of the way first, then we can get our books."
"No offence, Hermione, but I've decided that big shopping trips really aren't my thing," Harriet moaned, trailing behind a little. Hermione huffed and stopped for a moment so Harriet could rest. Her legs were shorter than she was used to now.
"Nor me, really," Hermione admitted. "I have to say, though, it's more fun shopping for someone else instead of myself. And when my mum isn't along trying to put me in frilly things."
Harriet couldn't help laughing at that one, a sudden image of Hermione in some sort of pink glittery tu-tu.
"Got a new friend, mudblood?" a familiar voice drawled. Malfoy's hand landed on Harriet's shoulder, and he wrenched her around to face him.
"Ow!" she protested, pulling her arm from his grasp. She tried to look anywhere but into his flat grey eyes, knowing that if he looked too hard, he'd surely know she was familiar. He'd spent long enough as Harriet's nemesis. She was glad for the heavy fringe that covered her scar.
Malfoy smiled. "I haven't seen you before," he noted, the sun glinting paley off his slicked, shining hair. "I'd remember a pretty girl. Where'd Granger find you?"
Harriet gulped. Malfoy didn't recognise her, which meant he didn't know yet. That must mean that Voldemort didn't know either, but she had no idea what to say. Hermione rescued her, reaching out to take her wrist. "Shove off Malfoy," the bushy haired witch spat, "and crawl back into whichever foetid hole you came from."
"Honestly. Turns out even six years of decent education can't teach some people manners," Malfoy grumbled. "You don't know how good you've got it, Granger. Try a little humility." He stalked off with a sniff, and Harriet shuddered.
"Ugh. I can't believe he touched me. Come on, let's finish up quickly, so we can leave."