Chapter 39: A Businessman's Approach

Harry entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, looking for his Hogwarts uniform. The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, and he found himself greeted by the familiar sight of neatly arranged robes, hovering measuring tapes, and a few customers scattered around.

"Ah! Another Hogwarts student, dear," Madam Malkin chirped, ushering him toward a fitting platform.

Harry barely had time to step forward before another voice cut in smoothly, laced with aristocratic confidence.

"Hogwarts as well?"

Harry turned slightly and met the gaze of a pale, blond boy with sharp gray eyes. His expression was one of casual curiosity, but there was a distinct air of expectation around him—one that came from years of being treated as someone important.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry gave a polite nod. "Indeed."

Draco examined him briefly, his eyes flicking to the lightning bolt scar before returning to Harry's face. "I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, his tone carrying the weight of a name that expected recognition.

"Harry Potter," he replied smoothly, watching the flicker of surprise that crossed Draco's face for a fraction of a second before it was schooled back into neutrality.

"Ah," Draco said, recovering quickly. "I thought I might run into you sooner or later."

Harry smirked slightly. "Fate does have a sense of humor."

Madam Malkin directed them both to stand still as her enchanted measuring tapes began their work, wrapping around their arms and shoulders as she moved to prepare their robes.

Draco, clearly comfortable with conversation, continued. "I take it you've been to Diagon Alley before?"

Harry gave a measured nod. "A few times."

Draco seemed to approve of the answer. "Good. You'd be surprised how many of our kind walk into Hogwarts barely knowing anything about the wizarding world."

Harry hummed noncommittally. "Ignorance is a weakness."

Draco's lips twitched, as if he had found something amusing. "Exactly."

A pause. The sound of fabric rustling filled the silence.

Draco leaned back slightly. "I assume you've been meeting the right people?"

Harry tilted his head. "That depends on what you mean by 'right.'"

Draco smirked. "The influential, of course. Those who matter."

Harry met his gaze evenly. "Influence comes in many forms, Malfoy. Some wield it openly, others from the shadows."

Draco studied him carefully before giving a slow nod. "True."

Harry didn't miss the way Draco subtly adjusted his posture, as if reassessing him.

He expected me to be either an ally or a fool to dismiss. Instead, he's found someone playing the same game.

The fitting continued in relative silence before Draco finally spoke again. "Well, Potter, I have a feeling we'll be seeing quite a lot of each other."

Harry allowed a slight smirk. "Perhaps."

Madam Malkin finished her work, handing both of them their Hogwarts robes. Draco gave a nod before making his way out, but not before casting one last glance at Harry.

This wasn't a meeting of rivals.

Nor was it a meeting of friends.

It was the first interaction between two young heirs who understood that power was a game—and both intended to win.