As soon as they stepped out of Ollivander’s Wand Shop, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley instinctively slowed their pace. Their eyes kept flicking back toward the shop, as if by looking long enough, they might sohow glimpse Draco and the others behind the walls.
Only when the wand shop finally disappeared from view did they pull their gazes away...
“Never seen her at school before. Must be a first-year.”
“Yeah, and judging by the look of her, probably another Slytherin.”
Ron's guess made Harry frown slightly, as if he thought a witch that pretty didn’t quite fit the image of a Slytherin.
“Ron, who do you think that girl is... to Malfoy?”
“Friend? Fiancée? Who knows what that Malfoy’s thinking. But she’s probably from so noble family—just look at those clothes, definitely not cheap.”
Harry wasn’t sure how Ron could tell, but he agreed. It wasn’t her clothes that convinced him, though; it was her manner—every movent, every glance radiated the poise of a pure-blood heiress.
Even though her aura was completely different, her face still reminded Harry of Pansy Parkinson—that cool, aloof girl who had left such a lasting impression on him...
While they were still talking about Draco and the mysterious witch inside the wand shop, they suddenly noticed the crowd gathered up ahead in front of the Quidditch Supplies store.
In an instant, their earlier encounter with Draco slipped from their minds.
A middle-aged wizard stood before the crowd, animatedly introducing a broomstick.
“Ladies and gentlen! Feast your eyes on the newest broomstick to hit the market!”
“The fastest broomstick in the world? Seriously? Is the Nimbus line finally getting outclassed?”
“That’s right! The Irish National Team just ordered seven of these beauties—it’s already beco the star of the World Cup!!”
The buzz imdiately drew Harry and Ron’s attention. This year, they had to win the Quidditch Cup, so any chance to boost their odds was sothing they’d never ignore.
And it was obvious—the broomstick in front of them might just be that chance.
“Let’s see... the Firebolt. This broom represents the very peak of wizarding craftsmanship—especially when it cos to balance and precision, it’s simply unmatched. As for the price... well, that’s negotiable.”
“Harry, if we had a broom like that, Slytherin wouldn’t stand a chance. What do you think...?”
Ron's proposal was tempting, and judging from the specs being shouted out, the Firebolt completely outperford every Nimbus on the market. To be blunt, even the brand-new Nimbus 2001 was utterly crushed by the Firebolt’s numbers.
But “price negotiable”... Harry didn’t even want to imagine how many Galleons that would take. And buying another broom when he already had a Nimbus 2001 seed far too extravagant, even considering the fortune his parents had left him.
As for Ron, that was out of the question—unless they sohow won a few grand prizes.
With one last longing glance at the gleaming Firebolt, Harry and Ron slipped out of the crowd...
“Co on, Hermione’s waiting for us. Hope we haven’t kept her too long.”
“Not much we could do. Who knew picking out wands would take that long?”
“So, which way now?”
“Let’s see... this way. The Magical nagerie’s over here. Hermione said she wanted to buy a pet—an early birthday present from the Grangers.”
With Harry’s confirmation, the two reluctantly made their way toward the pet shop.
Still, as they walked off, they couldn’t help but wish for just one more look at that Firebolt...
...
Compared to Ron Weasley, who spent the entire morning being chosen by his wand, Astoria certainly seed to have better luck. While Harry Potter and the others were still being held up by the Firebolts, Draco had already walked out of Ollivander's Wand Shop with Astoria.
Her experience inside seed to have thrilled her greatly. Even after stepping outside, she kept lightly waving her wand, her excitent plain to see. The sight drew a knowing smile from a passing wizard—it reminded them of their own first monts with a wand, when they too had foolishly waved it at the air. Astoria’s identical gestures stirred warm mories of their own youthful days...
“Next, before we buy anything else, I think you need an owl or a pet of your choice.”
“A pet?”
“Consider it a congratulatory gift for becoming a Hogwarts first-year.”
Without giving Astoria a chance to refuse, Draco promptly decided on their next plan. Whether it was the unexpected surprise or Draco’s assertive tone, Astoria blinked and tilted her head slightly, as though wondering if she’d misheard him.
Only when Draco actually started walking did she realize he truly ant to give her a gift...
“Is that so? Then I must return the favor—though I was already planning to.”
“Then give potion ingredients.”
“Huh?”
“I happen to be short on lizard tails.”
“...”
Astoria stared blankly at Draco, who had just decided what her return gift would be. Suddenly, she felt he was completely different from the nobles she’d t before—and nothing like how her sister had described him.
For so reason, Astoria found this version of Draco rather interesting to be around...
“Lizard tails? That’s what you want? Why not pick a few more potion ingredients instead?”
“Well...”
“Also, can we stop by the Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop later? I want to see those Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks, and maybe buy so Chocolate Frogs to try—I’ve never had them before.”
“...”
Compared to before, when she had quietly followed him with only a smile, Astoria now seed more talkative, and her expression carried more than just politeness. The way she frowned in thought could almost make soone think she was the one short on potion ingredients.
And when she ntioned fireworks and sweets, her face lit up with eager anticipation and unmistakable delight.
Draco paused, puzzled by her sudden change in deanor. He wasn’t sure what had gone wrong. Where had that quiet, obedient Astoria Greengrass gone—the one who’d followed silently just monts ago?
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