Across the room, Madam Malkin had come out of the fitting room, followed by Draco Malfoy as well as his mother Narcissa. The wraith-like witch was wearing robes that made the ones she had admired seem like cheap rags, gliding towards the register like a swan with more grace in her elegantly clasped hands than Hermione probably had in her entire body. She sent a haughty glance towards Ron and Harry, her cool eyes lingering on Hermione for a moment, before she turned to Madam Malkin.