The day after Severus’s visit, Draca finally entered Diagon Alley with Lucius and Narcissa accompanying her.
Earlier, before they had even set out, Narcissa and Lucius had unexpectedly gotten into a small argument over how they should enter Diagon Alley.
“Why not go in through the Leaky Cauldron?”
“After all, this is Draca’s first time buying her school supplies.
Perhaps she ought to experience the proper ritual.”
Her father was clearly in high spirits, obviously excited about his beloved daughter’s impending enrollment as well.
But not long after making the suggestion, he caught sight of his wife’s expression and immediately regretted it.
“You.
Want.
Our.
Daughter.
To.
Set.
Foot.
In.
A.
Place.
Like.
That?”
A sweet smile rested on Narcissa’s mature and stunning face as she gently questioned her husband, word by word.
Lucius swallowed nervously and changed his mind at once.
“On second thought, Apparition would be better.
It’s faster, and safer.”
Only after Narcissa smiled sweetly again, took Draca by the hand, and looped her arm through his did Lucius’s racing heartbeat finally ease.
Draca followed her parents out through the manor gates.
With Lucius and Narcissa beside her, hand in hand, she was suddenly struck by a dizzying, nauseating sensation that made the world seem to spin.
It was Draca’s first time Apparating with her parents.
With her father’s support, she steadied herself and straightened up.
Beside her, Narcissa gave her a concerned smile.
Draca blinked and took a moment to recover.
At first, the sight before her left her overwhelmed and unsettled.
Only afterward did that feeling give way to a strange, almost unreal excitement.
Having spent most of her life at the manor, Draca naturally wasn’t used to the crowded bustle of Diagon Alley.
Quite a few boys around her age were shoving one another in front of a broomstick shop, shouting at the tops of their lungs.
“It’s the Nimbus 2000!
The newest and fastest broom!”
There were also parents trying desperately to restrain their overexcited children.
Cries of “No magic!” rang out one after another, mixed with complaints like, “The price increase is completely outrageous!”
Faced with the noisy chaos before her, Draca lightly furrowed her brows and half-opened her folding fan to cover her mouth and nose.
“Don’t be nervous.
Diagon Alley is always like this.”
Narcissa gently wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, then glanced at Lucius.
“I’ll go to Gringotts and take care of a few things.”
“If you can, buy her cauldron, phials, and the rest of the equipment while you’re there.”
“I’ll take her to choose a wand.”
The couple spoke casually.
Lucius nodded, then headed toward an ivory-white building with a towering domed roof further down the busy street.
After Lucius left, Narcissa led Draca into an old, narrow shop that looked shabby at first glance, yet clearly carried the weight of many years.
A weathered wooden sign read:
OLLIVANDERS
MAKERS OF FINE WANDS SINCE 382 B.C.
When they pushed open the door, a small bell chimed softly behind it, accompanied by the aged scent of parchment and polished wood.
Tall cabinets stretched all the way to the ceiling along both sides of the narrow space.
Inside them were stacks upon stacks of long, slender boxes.
Despite the clutter, there was something strangely soothing about the smell of the shop.
“Good afternoon, Mrs.
Malfoy, and—ah!
This must be—”
A soft voice drifted over.
From behind the cabinets emerged an elderly man dressed in a tweed suit.
His sentence suddenly broke off as his bright blue eyes fixed on Draca’s refined figure.
“Miss Malfoy.
A pleasure.
A pleasure.
I am Ollivander.”
“This truly is—an interesting year for new students.”
“Good afternoon, Mr.
Ollivander.”
Draca inclined her head and returned the greeting politely.
The old man merely waved his hand.
With a flick of his wand, the measuring tape on the counter sprang into the air and, keeping a proper distance, lightly began taking Draca’s arm length and shoulder width.
At the same time, Mr.
Ollivander turned and climbed a ladder, searching among the boxes.
His voice rose and fell as he murmured to himself, almost like an old bard reciting a song.
“Let me think, let me think.”
“A pure and immaculate appearance, a proud and aloof temperament, and yet also a touch of…
how should I put it…
the Malfoy family’s traditional ability to bend when necessary…?”
Draca listened to the old man’s muttering in confusion.
Narcissa, on the other hand, looked quite pleased, apparently rather fond of Mr.
Ollivander’s assessment of her daughter.
“Ten inches.
Hawthorn, recently cooled and still somewhat springy, and…
of course, of course—”
“Unicorn hair.”
The old man gave a satisfied nod and took down a box.
With trembling hands, he carefully lifted the lid.
Draca looked inside.
Resting against the silk lining was an elegant wand.
Its dark silver handle was pure and clean, reminiscent of the pale leaves of a hawthorn tree on a snowy night.
The wood along the shaft was evenly colored, its delicate grain running straight while still retaining a subtle softness.
Draca raised her right hand and extended three fingers, slowly lifting the wand from the box.
A warm current ran across her fingertips, and a gentle glow spread around her.
Draca looked toward Narcissa.
Mother and daughter smiled at one another.
Mr.
Ollivander couldn’t suppress his own delight either.
“Excellent!
Excellent!”
And just like that, the task Draca had been longing for was completed almost immediately.
After paying, they specifically purchased a wooden wand box from Mr.
Ollivander, large enough to store it properly.
Before they stepped out of the shop, Narcissa gave her daughter, who was clearly suppressing her excitement, an amused look.
“Do you want to keep it in the box, or carry it with you?”
Draca hesitated for a moment.
Then she placed the wand back into the box and handed it to her mother.
Narcissa smiled and nodded in approval before speaking.
“Mother will go buy your textbooks.
You can go take a look at the robes first.”
Although the Malfoy family’s library was already well stocked, Lucius and Narcissa instinctively felt that Draca still needed brand-new textbooks.
The idea of the Malfoys’ only daughter starting school with secondhand books was entirely unimaginable.
Naturally, Draca didn’t hesitate over that.
Still, she couldn’t help looking up at her mother.
Not because of the textbooks, but because of the robes.
She finally asked the question that had been bothering her ever since she’d received the acceptance letter.
“Can’t we have the robes custom-made?”
“We can, but for first year, you should still go take a look at Madam Malkin’s.”
“Knowing how to fit into your surroundings appropriately and elegantly is also part of aristocratic etiquette.”
“Go have a look.
You can still have the shirts and skirts worn underneath made to order.”
Narcissa smiled faintly and gently urged Draca toward the shop window, where ordinary cuts and mass-market clothing were displayed.
“Looking for Hogwarts uniforms, dear?”
Draca had barely stepped through the door when a short, plump witch in bright purple robes came over to greet her warmly.
“I only want to look at the robes.”
Draca spoke with obvious reluctance.
Under Madam Malkin’s guidance, she stepped onto a footstool and allowed the witch to pin markers along her clothes to measure her height and proportions.
“Oh!
You must come from a very good family, don’t you?
I haven’t touched linen this fine in quite some time.”
The moment Madam Malkin’s hand brushed against Draca’s blouse, she let out an admiring exclamation.
“Draca Malfoy.”
Draca frowned again and quietly gave her name.
The instant Madam Malkin heard the surname, her thick hands visibly trembled.
She began speaking with a slight stammer.
“Th-this…
this is truly an honor!
Miss Malfoy!
P-please wait just a moment!”
In a sudden flurry, she hurried into a small room at the back of the shop.
A moment later, the sounds of drawers and boxes being rummaged through came from inside.
Draca could only stand there helplessly, guessing that Madam Malkin was searching for the best fabric she had.
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