The Benefits of Being Rich

Wizarding bloodlines were dwindling, especially among pure-blood wizards. The wizarding population had always been very small, and with low birth rates and inbreeding among the aristocracy, even fewer children were being born. To keep magic alive, even half-blood wizards could enter a house like Slytherin, which prided itself on pure blood. So there was nothing surprising about shops in Diagon Alley being run by Muggle-born wizards.

Shops run by aristocrats had an air of being too refined for popular taste. Their owners were proud and reserved, and the clerks inside would not greet customers with warm smiles like the Muggle shop assistants next door. Naturally, their business was not as good as other shops'. Where some prospered, others went bankrupt and closed down; that was the law of elimination. But the aristocrats would never admit that they themselves had made mistakes. They blamed the non-pure-blood wizards instead. It was their "invasion" that had made business so difficult for the aristocrats that many shops that had operated for centuries had been forced to close.

Without income, yet still needing to maintain an aristocratic lifestyle of "taste," one could imagine how difficult life had become for the pure-blood wizards of old. Yet poverty and pride made them grow more radical. Though the streets looked lively, customers hurried along with anxious expressions, seemingly unwilling to linger in Diagon Alley after making their purchases. Just as Madam Sprout had said, the current wizarding world was not suitable for an eleven-year-old girl to wander around in.

Life had to go on, and quite a few pure-blood wizards dared to put aside their pride and adapt to the changing times. Flourish and Blotts, founded in 1694, was the finest bookshop in Diagon Alley. Hogwarts would begin its term in September, and sometime after midsummer, owls would deliver admission letters and lists of textbooks for the coming school year. Almost every book one needed could be bought there. Pomona noticed that a new robe shop had opened next door. Its sign bore the name of its proprietress, Madam Malkin. The people entering and leaving were all wealthy, impeccably dressed individuals. Their manners were polished and refined, as though they were deliberately contrasting themselves with the bustling, chaotic Flourish and Blotts, where people were constantly shouting.

"Jamie, where are those books on invisibility?" Pomona heard someone ask the moment she stepped into Flourish and Blotts.

"Damn it! They've disappeared again!" The poor clerk clutched his hair and screamed, "I swear I'm never getting into these damned books again!"

"Do you want to go in?" Pete asked. Pomona shook her head without hesitation. Flourish and Blotts was at its busiest before the school term began, crammed full of impatient little brats and poor clerks on the verge of collapse.

"Then wait for me at the entrance."

"I want to look around next door." Pomona pointed at the newly opened shop beside it. "You can find me there later."

"Are you sure?" Pete frowned at the well-dressed aristocrats.

"Don't worry. This is a public place. They won't do anything to me."

"All right." Pete hesitated, but eventually agreed. "But you can't talk to them. Who knows whether those pure-bloods might lay a hand on a minor?"

Pomona felt Pete was worrying far too much. No matter how fierce the conflict between pure-bloods and non-pure-bloods became, it would not spread to young wizards. Children represented hope, and every wizard whose magic awakened was precious.

After giving his instructions, Pete drew his wand and forced a passage through the crowd like Moses parting the Red Sea. He quickly vanished from her sight, and Pomona turned toward the shop next door.

"Hey, James, which house do you think you'll be sorted into?"

"Gryffindor, obviously. What about you?"

"My mother wants me to enter Slytherin, but I'd rather go to Hufflepuff. At least I'd definitely be top of the house there."

With the tinkling of bells, the robe shop's door was pushed open. The loud conversation between two neatly dressed young wizards caught her attention. Pomona disliked the latter's comparison very much.

People often said that Hufflepuff students were the leftovers rejected by the other houses, that Hufflepuff had no requirements. But in her eyes, that spirit represented inclusiveness, precisely the quality most lacking in the present age.

Some thought courage was as precious as gold, but if a person did not understand how to be approachable, then he was nothing more than an arrogant brute. The earth, brown as soil, could nurture plants. Wheat could be made into bread, and grass could feed cattle and sheep. Gold could not fill an empty stomach.

Human nature was varied and ever-changing. A brave person might become weak in the next instant; a clever person might be blinded by greed because of ambition. Loyalty could turn to betrayal, and righteousness could become evil. When wizarding society as a whole did not regard house-elves as worthy of notice, it was Madam Hufflepuff who brought them into the kitchens of Hogwarts, giving them work and shelter.

Fortunately, she remembered Pete's instructions and did not speak to anyone. She slipped silently into the shop. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume. The two boys from earlier had made no effort to lower their voices, so everyone in the shop had heard what they said. When she entered, quite a few people were still watching the two who had just left. Though those gazes were not directed at her, being watched by so many people still made her feel awkward and at a loss.

She suddenly felt that wearing such an unconventional dress had not been a good idea.

"Is there anything I can help you with, young lady?" Just then, a witch in purple robes approached. She kindly shielded Pomona from those probing gazes, a gentle smile on her face.

"I need a robe," Pomona said nervously. "A style suitable for studying at Hogwarts."

Her voice was not very loud, but in such a quiet setting, it sounded conspicuous. Someone let out a contemptuous snort through their nose.

"You want to buy a Hogwarts uniform, dear? I have quite a few standard sizes..."

"Custom-made, of course." She deliberately interrupted in a loud voice, tinged with a slight French accent. "Where can I have my measurements taken?"

"Then you'll have to wait a moment. There is a young man in the back room." The saleswitch maintained her smile. "You can look at the other clothes first. If you see a style you like, call for me."

Then she left. At that point, the aristocrats began whispering among themselves, and Pomona occasionally caught words like "Black" and "unfilial son."

The Black family was one of Britain's most distinguished pure-blood families. Perhaps the only family that could rival them was the platinum-haired Malfoys. After her magic awakened, Madam Sprout had told her about those pure-blood aristocrats. Most members of the Black family attended Slytherin. Both boys who had just left had black hair. Though she did not know which one belonged to the Black family, a Black determined to enter Gryffindor was an outright scandal for such an eminent family. To these pure-blood aristocrats, its harm was no less grave than fathering an illegitimate child with a non-human.

As she wandered around the shop, she could still feel those unpleasant stares. The men looked at her as though she were some curious new object, while the women's gazes were full of scrutiny, as if they were trying to guess who her parents were.

"Madam Malkin!" Once she had had enough of those stares, she suddenly called out.

"Have you found an outfit you like, dear?"

"I'll take all of these." Pomona pointed at a row of clothes displayed on wooden mannequins.

"Where are your parents?" Madam Malkin still smiled politely, apparently assuming this was the nonsense of an eleven-year-old girl.

Pomona slammed a pouch filled with Galleons onto the counter.

"Now, have the person inside come out." She raised her chin and spoke arrogantly. "Don't waste my time."