Since Harry and Sirius would be buying Muggle clothes, they went to a Muggle clothing store. It was called House of Fraser, and it was in London. Sirius had a whole lot of what he called "Muggle money", even though Harry explained that there were Muggles all over the world and each nationality used a different sort of money, but Sirius insisted that you didn't really need to understand Muggle money in the Wizarding world. He showed Harry some of the Wizarding money he had on him—gold, silver and bronze.

When they walked inside on the first floor, the first stop was the men's department. Harry wandered away from Sirius and looked at the things that were for sale. They didn't look like anything he would wear to school, or anything that he thought could fit him. There was an entire wall devoted to jeans, which was intimidating, and the sizing didn't seem to make much sense. How could you be a size 33 and 34 at the same time? Harry picked up the smallest size and realized they were still far too big. They had a problem here, most definitely…

"Hey, you," said Sirius. "What are you up to?"

"Okay, which one of my parents was a goblin?" Harry asked dryly.

"Neither," said Sirius, discreetly folding the jeans back up again with his wand and placing them back on the shelf. "But we really do need to get you to the boys' department."

"Oh…right." Harry let Sirius grab his hand, and they walked past some other departments on the first floor—past jewelry, women's, exercise, etc., and they talked all along the way.

"Besides your everyday Muggle clothes, we'll probably need to get you some nicer clothes to wear under your school robes," Sirius was saying.

"School robes?"

"Wizards' robes," Sirius explained. "I'm wearing Muggle clothes today instead of robes like I usually wear—pretty good, right?"

Sirius was wearing bright neon-green pants and a plaid golfing shirt.

"Great," Harry lied, then he asked, "Does everyone in the Wizarding world wear robes?"

"No, it's more of a generational thing, I think," said Sirius thoughtfully. "Almost everyone my age wears them, yes, and we wore them when we were younger. But nowadays kids your age wear Muggle clothes during the summer holidays and on the weekends. Maybe it's because of all the new Muggle protection laws, I don't know. But yeah…it's not so uncommon to see a witch or wizard your age wearing ordinary Muggle clothes."

"Where do you get robes?"

"You can custom-order them, or you can get them off the rack," said Sirius. "My mother always custom-ordered the ones for my brother and me."

"That was nice of her," said Harry.

"Yes, well, it sounds like a nice gesture," said Sirius darkly. "But it was really just another way for her to show off how much gold we had. You see, custom-made robes aren't really much different from off-the-rack robes, but they're much more expensive. Every year my mother would have someone take my brother's measurements and my own—arms, waist, legs, etc.—and then have some robe-maker hand-make them for us. Then we'd have to wear them all the time, just in case someone forgot how luxurious and perfect our lives were. But I didn't like them, because they were never in colors I liked and they always had the Black family crest and motto embroidered in the back. She custom-ordered my school robes right before my first year, but every time I needed new robes after that I always got them with James, off-the-rack, even though it made my mother furious."

"I guess he was a bad influence," Harry commented, grinning, and Sirius nodded.

They walked past the girls' clothing, and the boys' clothing was right after it.

"Do you know what your sizes even are?" Sirius asked.

"No," Harry admitted, feeling embarrassed.

"Well, I guess you wouldn't, if all you got were his hand-me-downs," said Sirius pensively. "Honestly, that cousin of yours must have weighed thirty pounds at his very birth."

Sirius looked around to make sure nobody was watching, then Harry gaped as he used his wand to make measuring tape appear out of thin air. He snapped his fingers and watched idly as it started to take Harry's measurements on its own. Harry wasn't sure if Sirius was supposed to be using his powers in a Muggle department store, but since he was eager to see more magic, he didn't mention it.

"Can I really learn spells like this at the magic school?" Harry asked.

"Hogwarts?" said Sirius. "Yes. But you'll need more training first. They'll start you off with simple stuff like turning needles into toothpicks or making things float…"

Harry didn't think it would be simple at all to turn a needle into a toothpick. But hadn't Sirius grown up in a wizard family? This must seem as normal to him as ice cream on a hot day. Dressing like a Muggle, though, he definitely needed to work on that.

Sirius and Harry ended up buying a lot of clothes, mostly jeans and T-shirts, but also some sweaters, socks (new socks that were not grubby and did not belong to Uncle Vernon), and a new pair of pajamas. Sirius took Harry's glasses from him, made a sort of derisive noise in his throat, and repaired them brilliantly with a tap of his wand, the now-unnecessary tape fluttering to the department store's smooth floor. Finally they found Harry a dress shirt and some slacks to wear under his school robes. Not only had Harry never worn jeans that fit in his life, he had most certainly never worn slacks. Harry walked out of the dressing room stall, wearing his dress clothes and found Sirius waiting outside, standing by the big mirror.

"You see?" said Sirius. "Doesn't that look better?"

"Yes," said Harry, but something was still bothering him. "All this sizing made me realize…I'm scrawnier than I thought. I'm probably going to be that way forever."

"I don't think so," Sirius replied, hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall. "James was tall, Lily was about average and you were quite a healthy-sized baby. But you were horribly malnourished for the past ten years—weren't you?"

"Possibly," Harry agreed glumly.

"Well, not being fed properly can stunt your growth, you see. But luckily for you, the food is always plentiful at Hogwarts, and they have big feasts on special occasions, so you won't be going hungry there," said Sirius serenely. "And keep in mind, puberty can do great things."

"Like what?"

"Well, all sorts, but I was referring to your height," said Sirius. "That's when you'll start to wonder every year why your robes don't fit you anymore. Just so long as you start to eat enough, or your growth will be permanently stunted."

"Oh…great," said Harry, trying not to sound anxious, but merely excited that the other kids would most likely soon have yet another excuse to pick on him. In the most casual tone of voice he could muster, he added, "I'll probably be one of those people who looks like a freak until they graduate secondary school, though."

"Not if the fact that you look so much like your dad is any indication," said Sirius in interest, raising one eyebrow. "I mean to say, he didn't look like a freak. Everything came easy for him…Well, except one thing."

"What's that?" asked Harry.

Sirius smirked. "Your mother."

Harry was still staring at himself, transfixed, in the mirror. Truth was, it didn't look like him. Instead of old, oversized jeans and a T-shirt he was wearing a dress shirt and slacks, both of which fit perfectly and made him look quite sharp. Then there were his good-as-new glasses. Those made a surprising difference. But still, the worried look on his face was all the same.

"What's the matter?" Sirius asked.

"It's just…I don't think I'm going to be a good wizard," Harry told him. "I didn't even know I was one. Look at all the stuff you do. I'm never going to be able to do any of that."

"There are lots of Hogwarts students who come to school not knowing they were witches and wizards," Sirius said patiently. "That includes your mother. Her side of the family didn't have a drop of magical blood in their veins, and she was a very powerful witch."

"What if I'm the worst in the class?"

"Both of your parents were incredibly gifted," said Sirius. "I don't see how that could happen. Besides, there's Quidditch, too. I'm sure you'll be great at Quidditch."

"I don't even know what that is."

Sirius was then off explaining the rules of Quidditch to Harry, describing the details of the game with relish, and ending on the fact that James had been a Quidditch-cup-winning Chaser.

"There's no way you'll be a total fail at Quidditch, at least," said Sirius confidently.

Harry thought Quidditch was the most exciting part of the Wizarding world Sirius had told him about so far. Of course, he had heard in Muggle fairy tales about witches and wizards flying on broomsticks, but for sports? That was a new one. It sounded dangerous, too, but in an interesting way. Certainly more interesting than any Muggle sport. Harry knew his father had been a Chaser, but the position that sounded most intriguing to him was Seeker.

Quidditch was driven out of Harry's mind for a short time as he convinced Sirius to buy some new clothes of his own. Harry tried not to let on that Sirius didn't seem to understand Muggle clothing. Instead he just pretended he wanted to show Sirius the latest fashions.

"I spend more time in the Muggle world," Harry said delicately. "This is what's in right now. I love your outfit, but I think you'd look great in this…"

"Thanks. I do look good in anything, don't I?" said Sirius, and he bought his Muggle clothing too.

After everything was paid for, Sirius and Harry went to eat at a nearby restaurant that sold pizza. Harry wanted to know more about the Wizarding world, but Sirius made it quite clear that he was curious about Harry's world, too.

"What's it like to go to Muggle school?" he asked keenly.

"Well, we do math, science, reading, stuff like that." Harry shrugged, thinking of all the things he did in Muggle school. "We have art class, and music, and recess, where we can run around outside and blow off our steam…"

"Lucky," grumbled Sirius.

"What?"

"I said, you're lucky," Sirius repeated.

"Lucky to have recess?" Harry asked. "Didn't you get to run around outside when you were younger?"

"Run around in the street like some filthy, common Muggle child?" Sirius scoffed sarcastically. "Get my silk and linen robes dirty? Mess up my hair? Wander into a neighborhood and perhaps—gasp—make a friend? I think not! Why, my mother would have died of shame. No, when Regulus and I weren't in lessons we were usually at social gatherings, stuck inside. It was very boring. We were never allowed to play outside. I hated it so much…For a long time I wondered what on Earth was the matter with me—our family had everything we could possibly want, and yet I was so miserable every day."

"Well…have you ever thought that it was your family that had the problem, and not you?" Harry said slowly.

"Your father asked me the very same question," Sirius told him fondly. "I agreed with him—and you. I'm just not my parents' son and that's that. But I've talked too much about myself, you were telling me about your life…"

"No, no," said Harry. "I know you didn't like your family much, but they were still an old Wizarding family. You must have seen all sorts of magic growing up."

"Oh, I saw magic growing up, all right," said Sirius darkly. "But it's certainly not any sort of magic they'll teach you at Hogwarts, or that you should be doing. I don't know why my parents thought it was acceptable to openly practice the Dark Arts with their young children looking on, but apparently it wasn't an issue for them."

Harry had a sudden mental image of a baby version of Sirius, standing up in a crib, watching two Dark wizards from a corner in a drawing room.

"You don't have to worry," said Harry reassuringly as Sirius signaled for the bill. "I'll never get into the Dark Arts."

NEXT UP: The Dursleys are more fearful of Sirius than ever. But they are also getting angry. Meanwhile, Sirius finds a ten-year-old legal document that may turn Harry's whole life around…that is, if a certain headmaster doesn't catch wind of it!