Richard didn't hesitate long. He decided to order right there at the cash register:
"Madame Malkin, I'd like to order three sets of unicorn-wool underwear for myself, plus three sets of the same size to last for several years. And five sets of underwear for a man who's a size fifty-six and five feet tall. Pajamas for him and me-let the last one be a size to grow into, so I won't have to replace it for the next couple of years. And a nightgown for a five-foot-three-inch-tall elderly lady who's very fashion-conscious."
With each word spoken, Madam Malkin and her assistant's eyes bulged further and further, their jaws straining to pierce not only the floor but also the earthly mantle. The ruler fell from the young sorceress's hands to the floor with a dull thud.
"Young man, are you kidding?" the shopkeeper asked in a hoarse voice, laced with a fair amount of disbelief.
"Not at all, ma'am. Allow me to introduce myself-Earl Rich, Richard, heir to the Duke of Westminster. I have the honor to assure you that my vault at Gringotts contains sufficient funds to cover such an order, even with your work."
Madame Malkin's mouth went dry. She felt sick. She tried to mentally calculate the cost of purchasing the wool, but the numbers jumbled and wouldn't add up to a final figure.
"My lord..." the shopkeeper, her voice even more hoarse, choked out, her face pale. "I... We must first calculate the cost of the materials... Besides, such a large purchase of unicorn wool cannot be completed quickly..."
"Ma'am, I'm not rushing you. Send me an owl with the advance payment, and I'll write a note to my goblin at Gringotts to pay you the advance. And when the order is ready, you'll receive a generous payment for the work. Madam Malkin, is that acceptable to you?"
"Y-yes... Yes, Lord Rich! Of course, that's fine! It will be an incredible experience for me. Working with unicorn hair on such a scale... Oh, my goodness! I couldn't even dream of such a thing. But that's at least eight pounds of wool!"
"One hundred and twenty-eight ounces?!" Richard drawled, as if it meant nothing. "Only about thirteen thousand Galleons for the wool? That means the finished garment will cost around thirty thousand. I'll write you a payment order for fifteen thousand as a deposit right away."
Madame Malkin swayed and gasped. She tried to feel her heart with her right hand, but instead felt her ample breasts.
"My lord, please don't scare me like that. My shop doesn't bring in that kind of profit in a year!"
"So, ma'am, you must have a pretty good incentive to get everything done quickly and efficiently," Richard said, giving the lady a broad smile. "And also..."
The boy opened his jacket, revealing the Rich coat of arms in the form of a shield on the lining. A closer look revealed that it appeared to be woven from trouser belts, depicting two haystacks and a pair of chained trellises. The shield-like structure was supported by two golden dogs with blue collars, standing on their hind legs. Atop the shield was a domed knight's helmet, topped by a third, smaller, collarless golden dog. A ribbon ran beneath the motto "VIRTUS NON STEMA," which translated means "Virtue, Not Lineage."
"This coat of arms must be applied to all clothing except women's nightgowns, ma'am. I'll send you a sketch of the owl."
"Very well, Earl Rich," Madame Malkin breathed out happily.
Some time later, the boys left the store. Harry breathed in the fresh air of Diagon Alley with incredible joy. He felt like the sun shone brighter, the sky was bluer, and life in general was a wonderful thing if he didn't have to hang out in a clothes shop with Richard. Harry was ready to do anything but shop. If someone offered him the choice between shopping with a friend and killing Voldemort again, which they attributed to him, he would choose the latter without a second thought.
- What, Richie? How can you spend a whole hour choosing a style of underwear?!
"Harry, you don't understand the importance of underwear," Richard said in a didactic tone. "You wear underwear almost twenty-four hours a day! And if it's even useful..."
- Cowards! These are fucking cowards, Richie!
"Nothing of the sort!" Richard protested. "These are unicorn fur panties!"
"Richie, these are fucking underwear made from the wool of a fucking rare magical horse! My God! Just think - a hundred and fifty... A hundred and fifty thousand pounds for underwear!!! Richie, I'm speechless.
- Harry...
"Really?" Potter asked questioningly.
- I understand.
"What did you understand?" Harry frowned.
"You want panties like these too! Let's go back and place an order for you."
- NO-O-O-O!!! NO-NO-NO! I will not return to this hellish place. Especially not for the sake of cowards.
Many wizards turned around at Harry Potter's scream, but he didn't care.
- Anything, Richie, even if it kills me, but not a clothing store! I beg you!
"Okay, okay," Richard raised his palms. "Will an ice cream parlor suit you?"
- Oh, yes!
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