Harry stepped into Madam Malkin's robe shop.
New students needed uniform clothing—robes had to be black. Staff had no such restrictions.
Harry completely understood requiring students to wear uniforms—preventing discrimination, training discipline, and endless benefits. His legion had also worn unified clothing.
Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed in mauve.
"Hogwarts, dear?" she said immediately, not waiting for Harry to speak. "Got the lot here—another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."
In the back of the shop, a pale, platinum-blonde-haired, thin young man stood on a footstool while another witch pinned his black robes.
To be fair, he was good-looking—quite handsome among ordinary little boys.
Also a Hogwarts freshman, the boy began boasting to Harry about his family's wealth, his father's accomplishments, and his flying broomstick skills.
He sounded like an obedient son who is bragging about his father.
Harry wanted to know about the Wizarding World, so he didn't refuse his conversation.
Unexpectedly, after just a few sentences, the boy began openly discriminating against Muggle-born students, claiming Muggle-born wizards shouldn't be admitted to school—enrolment should be limited to students from pure-blood wizard families.
He said all this without even asking about Harry's family background.
Only afterward did he belatedly ask what Harry's parents did for work.
Essentially asking if Harry was pureblood.
On one hand, this was rather rude—speaking first, asking later, and not taking Harry seriously. And his parents were already dead.
Harry was displeased. What made you so disrespectful toward me? Look at my eyes!
On the other hand, Harry felt this was normal noble behaviour, fitting stereotypes.
With King Joffrey as a comparison—that world-shaking idiot—this little noble brat seemed perfectly normal!
Indeed a noble, the little boy mentioned ancestral glory—his ancestors weren't native Britons.
They came to England with William the Conqueror, providing magical support and gaining fiefdom. According to William the Great's policies, gaining land meant receiving earl or baron titles.
Now he wasn't discriminating against Muggles—perhaps in his eyes, he only discriminated against non-noble Muggles, while nobles were peers, and kings were figures above their station.
The little boy also mentioned that in the 16th century, his great-great-great-grandfather Lucius the First had courted Queen Elizabeth I.
Harry guessed this was embellished—probably from when the Church stopped witch hunts and wizards' status improved again.
Harry had seen plenty in the other world—many nobles didn't consider non-nobles human.
Wizarding society was much better, since Muggle-born wizards weren't necessarily weak. Personal strength mattered more. This boy talked big, but no matter how Harry observed, he didn't look like a strong person—just complaining.
People without power couldn't change anything.
Just differences between worlds—many of the boy's words were normal in mediaeval times but probably outdated in modern times, or too foolish to say publicly. Even Madam Malkin frowned repeatedly hearing them.
"Enough. Be quiet, sir." Harry wasn't the Mad King—he didn't assault people in the street; he just didn't want to talk anymore.
"Yes, sir."
The little boy instinctively obeyed, then felt embarrassed and wanted to say more, hesitating.
Seeing Harry's intimidating gaze, he fell silent.
Forget it—this person's eyes were too terrifying. He'd wait until his two followers arrived.
Leaving the clothing store, Harry reunited with Hagrid to continue completing the school task list. They bought Harry's textbooks at Flourish and Blotts.
The shelves were stacked with books reaching the ceiling—leather-bound volumes as big as paving stones, silk-covered books the size of postage stamps, books filled with peculiar symbols, and some with no words at all.
This year's textbooks weren't particularly strange. Hagrid said some professors liked experimenting with teaching materials, becoming excited discussing this.
Harry felt if Hagrid ever got promoted to professor, he'd probably do exactly that. Abuse of authority.
Harry wanted to buy a book on curses, but Hagrid reminded him young wizards couldn't cast spells freely—they'd be detected... Magic was such an inconvenient thing?
Fine, continue with hand-to-hand combat then.
Hagrid also wouldn't let Harry buy an ostentatious pure gold cauldron, purchasing the pewter cauldron from the shopping list instead.
Plus scales, a brass telescope, and other supplies.
Items like these, especially pure gold cauldrons, would be hard for ordinary Muggle families to afford with pounds, but became affordable after exchanging pounds for Galleons.
Essentially, the magical world provided sponsorship for young wizards' successful education—if you had pounds, you could exchange them; if you had no pounds, they gave direct scholarships.
After all, young wizards qualified for Hogwarts admission were resources, completely different from ordinary Muggles who could reproduce endlessly. They couldn't be denied education due to poverty.
Wizard numbers were limited—British magical society hadn't executed wizards in many years.
Voldemort, as a Dark Lord, didn't just kill Muggles, fierce resisters, and famous wizards—he even killed ordinary wizards and his own subordinates. He wasn't just any bad wizard—decisive action was required.
Hagrid consulted the list: "Now we need to buy your wand—oh yes, I haven't bought you a birthday present yet."
"You don't have to—"
Harry made a polite refusal. He noticed that though Hagrid dressed like a vagrant, he should be quite wealthy.
Considering he was his parents' friend, his own guide, had even held him as a baby—their relationship was close—so this wasn't a real refusal.
Harry wasn't completely ignorant about social niceties. He'd been constantly nagged by court etiquette officials who were all system-certified loyal subordinates.
If Harry really tried, he could become a flawless paragon.
"I want to give you an animal—how about an owl? Children all love owls. It can carry mail and packages for you."
Twenty minutes later, Harry carried a large cage containing a beautiful snowy owl sleeping peacefully with its head tucked under its wing.
"Quite beautiful." Though Harry also loved cats, he had to admit this owl was indeed sufficiently gorgeous.
Hagrid said hoarsely, "Now only Ollivanders is left—only Ollivanders sells wands. You'll definitely find the best wand there."
Harry asked: "Is there really no shop selling swords?"
Compared to wands, Harry felt he needed a sword more.
Besides one illumination spell, he had to learn all other magic from scratch.
But swordsmanship—not to boast—he truly had reached a certain level.