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"But we can listen to the match later."
"The match?" he asked.
"Quidditch match. The Magpies are playing the Tornadoes."
Harry had no idea what Quidditch was, and said as much.
"It's the best sport in the world. You'll love it!" Alex said. His eyes lit up as he launched into an animated conversation about it. He never told Harry exactly what Quidditch was, but he explained all the teams and why the Magpies were his favourite.
Conversation petered out after that, and Harry grew tired of watching the other boy eat.
"I'm going to read," he said.
There was a lot of catching up to do, and so much he didn't know. According to the letter, the term started in just over a month, and he had no idea how he would survive at Hogwarts. Every conversation so far had left him with more questions than answers about the world he'd been unceremoniously dropped into. Sure, Harry had spent years pretending to be dumb, but he'd never actually felt it until now. Part of him wondered if the muggleborn students felt the same way.
Two and a half hours later, he'd skimmed through Hogwarts, A History, and learned a little more about the houses and the school. He'd flipped through History of the Blood War learning a little more about the war, and gone back over the leaflet three times. His notes had more than doubled in length. He was contemplating going down to the library when Alex came to fetch him.
Waiting for them in the drawing room was the tailor. He was an older man, short, with sandy hair and pale skin. On his head was a wide brimmed, pointed hat, and he wore a bright yellow floor length medieval robe trimmed in green brocade.
"Mr. Cropper, meet my brother, Harry," Alex said.
"Well mat, Heir Potter. Mr. Ennis Cropper with Kildare's Wizardwear," the man said with a bow. His voice was nasally and deep.
"Well met, Mr. Cropper," Harry stuttered out, mimicking the words the tailor had used. Harry had read that he was the heir, but he wasn't sure exactly what that meant.
Alex snickered beside him. "Mr. Cropper's been the Potter's tailor since Dad was a boy."
Cropper stared at them, his eyes going back and forth between Harry and Alex in amazement.
"This way, boys, come on, come on," Cropper said, clapping his hands and ushering them farther into the room.
The entire area just through the door had been completely taken over. Two identical stations stood next to each other, each one with a squat platform placed in front of a three-way-mirror.
They were each directed onto one of the platforms. Harry stepped up onto his and looked at himself in the mirrors. He didn't look quite as small and malnourished as he had in his cousin's cast offs. Compared to Alex though, he was still too skinny and his washed out skin looked sickly against the pale blue of his jacket.
Suddenly, there was a tape measure flying all around him, and he gaped in shock at it. Floating next to him, was a piece of parchment. A quill furiously took notes.
"Lift your arms, Heir Potter," Cropper said.
Harry did as he asked, and said, "Just call me Harry." The Heir thing was too new to be comfortable. Especially since Alex made a face every time it had been said.
"As you wish, Harry," Cropper said, giving him a smile. "Now, Lord Potter ordered some additional pieces for you. Several sets of everyday robes."
"Yeah," Harry said. He was still confused about what they meant by robes.
"What styles do you like, traditional or the more modern style?" he asked.
When Harry didn't answer, Alex supplied, "Dad hates traditional robes."
The tape measure moved around him as well, but unlike Harry, who every few seconds had to be directed to lift this or move that, Alex moved with the tape measure.
"Let's do a mixture of both. Mostly modern, with a couple of traditional robes. Every young wix needs at least one or two for various occasions." Cropper paused, then asked, "How many cloaks? I know they're falling out of fashion with the younger set."
"Three should be good," Alex said for him.
Harry agreed just for the sake of it.
"Now colours, This blue looks awful on you," Cropper said. "What kind of colours do you like?"
Harry had no idea. Dudley's cast offs had always had a greyish hue to them, with most of the colours faded away. He shrugged in lieu of answering.
"I think you'd do well in jewel tones, with some darker neutrals thrown in. We should try to bring out those remarkable eyes," Cropper said.
What felt like an eternity later, Cropper finally stopped asking him questions about colours and fabrics. He was allowed to step down from the little platform, which packed itself away into a bag that sat at Cropper's feet. All the rest of it followed to Harry's amazement.
"That should be everything," Cropper said. "Your robes should arrive by midweek."
"Thank you, Mr. Cropper. Let us show you out," Alex said. He gestured towards the entrance hall, and led the three of them from the room.
After a round of goodbyes and another bow, the tailor left.
Except, instead of leaving through the front door, the man moved towards the fireplace. He grabbed a fist full of some type of glittering powder from a bowl on a little table next to the fireplace then promptly stepped into the fireplace. He shouted something and dropped the powder at his feet. Then he vanished in a whorl of emerald flames.
"What was that!" Harry exclaimed.
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If you want to read 30 advanced chapters earlier or just want to support me on Patre-on.
{P} {A} {T} {R} {E} {O} {N}
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