Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

too, Harry, you’ve grown so much – come on, everyone –’
    ‘Molly, it doesn’t make sense for all of us to go to Madam Malkin’s,’ said Mr Weasley. ‘Why don’t those three go with Hagrid, and we can go to Flourish and Blotts and get everyone’s school books?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Mrs Weasley anxiously, clearly torn between a desire to finish the shopping quickly and the wish to stick together in a pack. ‘Hagrid, do you think –?’
    ‘Don’ fret, they’ll be fine with me, Molly,’ said Hagrid soothingly, waving an airy hand the size of a dustbin lid. Mrs Weasley did not look entirely convinced, but allowed the separation, scurrying off towards Flourish and Blotts with her husband and Ginny while Harry, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid set off for Madam Malkin’s.
    Harry noticed that many of the people who passed them had the same harried, anxious look as Mrs Weasley, and that nobody was stopping to talk any more; the shoppers stayed together in their own tightly knit groups, moving intently about their business. Nobody seemed to be shopping alone.
    ‘Migh’ be a bit of a squeeze in there with all o’ us,’ said Hagrid, stopping outside Madam Malkin’s and bending down to peer through the window. ‘I’ll stand guard outside, all righ’?’
    So Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the little shop together. It appeared, at first glance, to be empty, but no sooner had the door swung shut behind them than they heard a familiar voice issuing from behind a rack of dress robes in spangled green and blue.
    ‘… not a child, in case you haven’t noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone .’
    There was a clucking noise and a voice Harry recognised as that of Madam Malkin said, ‘Now, dear, your mother’s quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own any more, it’s nothing to do with being a child –’
    ‘Watch where you’re sticking that pin, will you!’
    A teenage boy with a pale, pointed face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack wearing a handsome set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. He strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione reflected over his shoulder. His light grey eyes narrowed.
    ‘If you’re wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in,’ said Draco Malfoy.
    ‘I don’t think there’s any need for language like that!’ said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a tape measure and a wand. ‘And I don’t want wands drawn in my shop, either!’ she added hastily, for a glance towards the door had shown her Harry and Ron both standing there with their wands out and pointing at Malfoy.
    Hermione, who was standing slightly behind them, whispered, ‘No, don’t, honestly, it’s not worth it …’
    ‘Yeah, like you’d dare do magic out of school,’ sneered Malfoy. ‘Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers.’
    ‘That’s quite enough!’ said Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. ‘Madam – please –’
    Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack.
    ‘Put those away,’ she said coldly to Harry and Ron. ‘If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do.’
    ‘Really?’ said Harry, taking a step forwards and gazing into the smoothly arrogant face that, for all its pallor, still resembled her sister’s. He was as tall as she was now. ‘Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?’
    Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart.
    ‘Really, you shouldn’t accuse – dangerous thing to say – wands away, please!’
    But Harry did not lower his wand. Narcissa Malfoy smiled unpleasantly.
    ‘I see that being Dumbledore’s favourite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won’t always be there to protect you.’
    Harry looked mockingly all around the shop.
    ‘Wow … look at that … he’s not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!’
    Malfoy made an angry movement towards Harry, but stumbled over his overlong robe. Ron laughed loudly.
    ‘Don’t you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!’ Malfoy snarled.
    ‘It’s all right, Draco,’ said Narcissa, restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder. ‘I