The sunlight spilling over Diagon Alley was warm, but Harry barely noticed it. Nyx was already prowling in his head like a cat who'd spotted prey.
We start with robes, she declared. Intimidation begins with presentation.
We start with necessities, Hedwig countered.
"Robes are a necessity," Harry said. "Especially if they make me look like I know what I'm doing."
Hagrid led the way to a shop with a neat swinging sign: Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The bell above the door chimed as they stepped inside.
The shop smelled faintly of fabric dye and something floral. Bolts of cloth floated overhead, measuring tapes zipped through the air like caffeinated snakes, and a squat witch in mauve robes bustled forward.
"School robes, dear?" she asked, steering Harry toward a raised stool.
"Yes," Harry said, "but I'll need more than that. I'm not exactly going home with a wardrobe waiting for me."
Her eyebrows rose. "More?"
Go for something with spikes, Nyx suggested immediately. Intimidation.
He needs practicality, Hedwig said.
"Nothing spiky," Harry told Madam Malkin. "Just… normal clothes. Shirts, trousers. Things that don't make me look like I'm about to duel someone in a ballroom."
Madam Malkin blinked, then nodded briskly. "We can manage that."
Harry stepped onto the stool, eyeing the enchanted measuring tape as it slithered closer. This thing's moving like it's deciding where to cut first.
If it goes for the neck, duck, Nyx advised.
It is harmless, Hedwig said.
That's exactly what people say before something eats your face, Harry muttered.
The tape zipped around his waist, then snapped back like it was offended. Oh great, now I've insulted it. Next it'll be demanding an apology in thread form.
Offer it a button as tribute, Nyx suggested.
Buttons are not currency, Hedwig replied.
Tell that to the button. It's probably plotting a coup with the zipper.
The bell over the door chimed again. A boy with pale hair slicked back so precisely it looked like it had been threatened into place stepped in. His robes were clearly tailored, the fabric rich and heavy. He moved like the shop belonged to him.
"Hogwarts as well, dear?" Madam Malkin asked.
"Yes," the boy said, stepping onto the stool beside Harry. His eyes flicked over Harry's hair, then his eyes, then back to his hair again. He opened his mouth to speak—then stopped. "Yeah… never mind."
"Harry—"
"Don't bother," the boy said lightly, as if Harry had just offered him a seat in the wrong section of the train.
Oh, I like him. Can I bite him? Nyx asked.
No, Hedwig said.
"You always this friendly, or is this a special occasion?" Harry asked.
"Depends who's asking."
"Just Harry."
The boy gave a small, polite nod that somehow managed to be condescending. "Right."
The measuring tapes zipped around them both, Madam Malkin humming as if she hadn't just witnessed a social frost front roll in.
He's judging you like you're a broom with a dent in it, Nyx said.
He is a pure-blood. It is expected, Hedwig replied.
"So, do you treat everyone like they're a bad smell, or am I just lucky?" Harry asked.
"You're… interesting."
"Thanks. You're… something."
The fitting ended. The boy stepped down first, smoothing his robes with a practiced flick. "Enjoy your year."
"Oh, I plan to."
The boy left without another word, the bell chiming behind him.
We're going to see him again, Nyx said.
Yes, Hedwig agreed.
"Good. I like a challenge."
Hagrid reappeared from the street, holding a paper bag that smelled suspiciously like pastries. "All done?"
"Yep," Harry said, tucking the parchment from Gringotts deeper into his pocket.
"Books next. Flourish and Blotts."
Oh, joy. Paper cuts and dust, Nyx said.
Knowledge, Hedwig corrected.
---
Flourish and Blotts was crammed with people. The smell of parchment and ink hit Harry like a wall. Stacks of books teetered precariously, and a harassed-looking assistant was trying to levitate a pile back onto a shelf while fending off a small child.
Hagrid handed Harry a list. "All yer school books are on there. I'll be over by the Magical Creatures section."
Translation: he's going to look at pictures of dragons, Nyx said.
Likely, Hedwig agreed.
Harry wove through the aisles, pulling books from shelves. The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 was heavier than it looked. One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi smelled faintly of something that might have been alive once.
As he reached for Magical Drafts and Potions, a hand darted in and grabbed it first.
"Sorry," said a girl with bushy brown hair and an armful of books. "I need this for school."
Harry eyed her stack. "Planning to read the entire library before term starts?"
"If I can," she said seriously. "I like to be prepared."
She's dangerous, Nyx said.
She is prepared, Hedwig replied.
Harry found another copy and added it to his pile. "I'm Harry," he said.
"Hermione Granger," she replied briskly. "Do you know which House you want to be in? Gryffindor's meant to be the best, but Ravenclaw's for the clever ones, Hufflepuff's nice, and Slytherin… well, you know."
Harry blinked. "I didn't even know there were Houses until about an hour ago. How do they decide?"
"No one says," Hermione admitted. "It's a secret until you get there."
Probably a gladiator match, Nyx said.
Or a written exam, Hedwig countered.
Harry grinned. "I'm betting it's a raffle. Or maybe they spin you around and whichever direction you fall in, that's your House."
Hermione's mouth twitched. "I doubt it's that."
"Yeah," Harry said. "Too easy to cheat if you've got a magnet."
Hermione tilted her head slightly, studying him. "Your eyes… and your hair—are they natural?"
Harry smirked. "As natural as falling into a vat of bleach while staring at the sun."
Tell her it's a fashion statement, Nyx said.
Do not, Hedwig replied.
Hermione's brow furrowed, but she smiled faintly. "Well… it's striking."
"Thanks. I try to be memorable."
They compared lists, Hermione rattling off facts about each book like she'd memorised the back covers. Harry listened, occasionally throwing in a question just to see if she'd run out of answers. She didn't.
By the time they reached the counter, Harry's arms ached. Hermione balanced her stack like she'd been training for it.
"See you at school, Harry," she said, and disappeared into the crowd.
She's going to be trouble, Nyx said.
She will be useful, Hedwig replied.
Harry smiled. "Perfect. I like both."
---
They stepped back into the street, weaving through the crowd until they stopped before a narrow, slightly crooked shopfront with peeling gold letters over the door: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
Harry stared at it, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and anticipation.
This is where the real fun starts, Nyx murmured.
It will be important, Hedwig said.
Harry grinned. "Let's find out."