Chapter 111: At Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions
On the way to Diagon Alley, Jon pulled out the list of supplies he needed for the new school year.
For his third-year courses, he needed to purchase the following books:
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Intermediate Transfiguration Guide by Emeric Switch
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Standard Book of Spells, Level III by Miranda Goshawk
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The Book of Potions by Zygmunt Potters
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Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky
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The Monster Book of Monsters by Edwardus Lima
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The Dictionary of Magical Words by Al-Arafat Horst
In addition, all students who chose Divination were required to bring their own crystal ball, while those who chose Care of Magical Creatures needed a set of dragon-hide protective gear.
And since two years had passed, his old black Hogwarts robes and pointed hat had clearly become too small. Jon would need to buy a new set in Diagon Alley.
The taxi pulled up at the spot Jon had specified on Charing Cross Road.
“There’s only number 116 and 118 here, no 117?” the driver asked curiously. “What’s going on?”
“Maybe number 117 got torn down,” Jon replied casually.
Once the taxi left, he walked straight into 117 Charing Cross Road—the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was shielded by a powerful charm, invisible to anyone unless its address had been given by a real wizard.
Inside, Jon saw old Tom, toothless as ever, beckoning to customers. Hannah was nowhere in sight.
After greeting Mr. Tom Abbott, Jon slipped through to the courtyard and stepped into Diagon Alley.
...
Today, Diagon Alley was noticeably quieter than usual.
The Quidditch World Cup was underway, with intense matches every day. Many shops had closed their doors—clearly, their owners had gone to watch the games.
Fortunately, several key shops remained open.
He first stopped at Flourish and Blotts to buy his books. When the shop assistants handed him The Monster Book of Monsters, they reminded him to stroke the spine before opening it.
Next, Jon visited a leather shop and bought a dragon-hide protective coat, then a magical goods shop where he purchased a crystal ball.
Finally, he stopped in front of Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.
Madam Malkin was a short, plump witch with a warm smile, dressed in purple.
“Here for a new robe, dear?” she asked brightly from the shop door, not waiting for Jon to speak. “Which House are you in?”
“Hufflepuff,” Jon answered honestly.
“Then you might like this one!” Madam Malkin pulled a yellow-and-black robe from the rack. “Another Hufflepuff student is trying this one on now.”
“Alright, thanks.” Jon took it.
As he walked past the rack, he spotted a familiar face.
Zacharias Smith was wearing the same robe, its hems and cuffs pinned with glittering clips.
“It’s been a while, Zacharias!” Jon greeted.
Zacharias looked pale, his expression strained. Standing stiffly by the mirror, he shot Jon a meaningful glance but stayed silent.
Jon immediately thought back to Zacharias’s Boggart in first year... Could it be that his mother was here?
He picked up the robe and moved toward a full-length mirror behind the rack.
And promptly bumped into a middle-aged man.
“Sorry!” Jon blurted, looking up—only for his face to freeze.
...
“Professor Snape...” he stammered.
Now he understood why Zacharias looked so tense earlier. It wasn’t his mother—it was Snape.
But why was Snape here? Shouldn’t he have been at Pavlov’s house in Newham?
What were the chances of this happening...
Was he here to buy clothes? Had Snape finally tired of that greasy black robe he’d worn for years and decided to replace it?
But then why wasn’t he in front of the mirror, but instead standing as though waiting for someone?
“Hart!” Severus Snape lifted his head, his voice low and menacing. “Didn’t Professor Sprout ever teach you to watch where you’re going?”
“Sorry, Professor Snape...” Jon said quickly.
At the words “Professor Snape,” Snape’s face twitched ever so slightly, though he smoothed it over at once.
“...I just came to buy a couple of new robes...”
Before Jon could finish, the door of a nearby fitting room opened.
A little girl with Eastern European features stepped out, dressed in a brand-new black robe.
Smiling brightly, she said, “Professor Snape, it fits perfectly.”
“Then hurry and buy it,” Snape muttered irritably, turning away.
Jon blinked in confusion, even more bewildered. Wasn’t this Sergei Pavlov’s daughter? Why wasn’t she here with her father, but with Snape instead? Could it be... had the old bat missed Lily so much that he felt compelled to take special notice of this little girl—
Jon quickly looked again at Natasha. Like her mother, she had long, deep red hair and almond-shaped green eyes.
“Professor...” Jon realized he shouldn’t know who she was, and quickly asked, “Who is she?”
“A Muggle-born first-year at Hogwarts. I’m responsible for introducing her to the wizarding world,” Snape said coldly. “And for helping her buy the necessary supplies.”
“What?” Jon was completely stunned. That made no sense—why hadn’t Professor McGonagall brought him to Diagon Alley two years ago?
Something wasn’t right...
“Professor Snape!” Natalie Pavlov tugged on his sleeve and asked, “Where are we going now?”
Snape kept a stony expression, glancing at the list in his hand.
“To Flourish and Blotts...”
He was about to lead the girl out of Madam Malkin’s, when he suddenly stopped at the door.
“Hart!” he barked.
Jon, still pinned with several clips as he tried on his robe, was dragged roughly to the doorway.
“Listen... two years ago, Minerva should have brought you to Diagon Alley, correct?”
“Don’t interrupt me!” Snape snapped before Jon could answer. “Take that girl to the same places she took you, buy the same supplies—and then bring her home before dark. She knows where.”
With that, Snape shoved Jon aside and strode off. Within a few steps, he was gone.
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