'Under any kind of rigorous analysis the Magical economy makes no sense, how can a Magician possibly be poor? Once we have won and we are able to access the records of the Matriarchs I suspect we will see clear evidence that any kind of scarcity in our society was deliberately created by them in order to convince us of our dependence on them.'

Lord Voldemort, What is to be done?

(Prohibited by the Ministry of Magic, under 'Maintenance of Social Cohesion Law, 1968'. Ownership only permitted with a Ministry License)

Harry left Gringotts, the Magical (or rather Goblin, he supposed) Bank, clinking. When Snape had opened Harry's vault he had instructed Harry to turn away, as not to let the young Wizard go mad with gold lust.

The last time Harry had any significant amount of money was when he'd wanted a mountain bike for his 10th birthday, and his Uncle had promised to go 'halfers' if Harry could get the rest. After a month of mowing lawns and clearing gardens Harry still hadn't got anywhere close to half, but his Uncle had appreciated his effort and bought the bike anyway. Harry felt the money in his little bag was worth way way more than that.

Lost in his thoughts Harry bumbled along with Snape pulling him along by the wrist, until they reached the entrance of what looked like a tailor called 'Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.'

'Ah Professor Snape, its that time of year already? You've started taking the 'Muggle Raised' around, or this is a bastard of yours?' A large woman who looked to be the proprietor chortled at her own joke.

'Quite, Madam.' Replied Snape, doing his best to sound neutral.

'Well come through here, and I'm sure you'll be on your way out of my shop before you know it.' Clearly her bastard jokes worked better on other Magicians.

'Thank you'. Snape said as he gently pushed Harry into the room she had indicated. Not that Harry thought he had to be told where it was, since this was apparently his job.

Inside the room another boy was being fitted, an individual whose most notable feature was his silver hair (from the back anyway).

He turned as Snape and Harry entered, and upon laying eyes upon Harry his eyes widened slightly, but was still able to smoothly greet them.

'Hail Fellows of the Blood of Merlin, Severus Snape and Harry Evans-Potter'

Snape snorted at the ostentatious greeting. 'Hello Draco, dramatic as always.'

'Harry this is Draco Malfoy, my Bondsson, something like the Muggle Godson.' He explained. 'I'm sure the two of you will enjoy each other's company much more without me lurking in a corner. I will be outside.'

As Snape swept away Harry narrowed his eyes at the previously wide eyes.

'How did you know who I was?'

Draco grinned at him. 'The scar, duh! Not going to be many boys my age walking around with a lightning bolt scar on their forehead.'

This didn't clear up Harry's confusion. 'Why would you know about my scar?!'

Draco looked surprised. 'You don't think you get to kill the most powerful Dark Wizard to exist since the Second Great War and no one to notice or remember who you are? No hard feelings by the wa-oof.' Draco was interrupted as of the enchanted automatic fitting wands jabbed him in the side.

'Hard feelings?' Was Draco from one of the families that supported Voldemort, like Snape had pretended to be?

The other boy frowned. 'Every war has two sides Harry. I know Voldemort killed your parents but those who fought against him killed my Uncle, and imprisoned my Father and your Bondsfather.'

'My Bondsfather?' Harry felt stupid asking question after question, but being a relatively astute individual was rapidly beginning to realise that this was just what life was like for the 'Muggle Raised'.

The wands had stopped their work around Draco. 'I need to go Harry, but if you meet me on the Hogwarts train I promise to explain! That and a load of other stuff! Please don't judge me for what happened between our parents.' Draco had a funny way of talking, sometimes speaking formally like the way he had presumably been taught, and other times like the 11 year old he actually was.

This sounded kinda reasonable but Harry was not the kind to just forget about the murder of my parents.

'I'll think about it.'

Draco looked kind of disappointed, but just nodded his head and made for the door.