What really stumped Harry was figuring out what to buy for Hermione and Cho Chang.
Ordinary presents could work just fine as a gesture of goodwill, but Harry wanted to give them something special—at the very least, not something that would disappear after being eaten like food, or get shelved after being read like a book.
After wandering around a massive department store several times, he had to admit: the only section that truly caught his eye was the women's jewelry counter.
After all, no matter the type of girl, most probably liked accessories, right?
Necklaces… no, too mature.
Rings… even worse—totally inappropriate!
After much deliberation, Harry finally noticed a bracelet displayed inside a glass case.
It was circular, made of silver metal, with hollowed-out floral patterns and a short dangling chain ending in a small, inverted arrow.
Harry said to the saleswoman, "Could you take that out for me? I'd like a closer look."
The young brunette saleswoman looked at him and smiled knowingly. She winked and said, "Buying this for your girlfriend, little guy?"
She wasn't wrong to call him that—after all, Harry was only eleven. No matter how serious his expression, his youthful face still gave him away.
Harry nodded without the slightest hint of embarrassment.
The saleswoman looked a bit disappointed. She had expected a blushing, flustered reaction.
"Didn't expect this kid to have such thick skin," she muttered.
As she handed over the bracelet, she added, "Even if it's for your girlfriend, I doubt you'll be able to afford it."
"Why not?" Harry asked.
"Because this bracelet is set with seven diamonds—one for each day of the week. It's very expensive."
Harry furrowed his brow—not because he was worried, just because he hadn't expected that. But he was confident he had enough money.
"How much is it?" he asked calmly.
The saleswoman didn't appreciate his unbothered tone. Just wait till I tell you the price, she thought. Then we'll see your reaction.
"This bracelet costs £2,400," she said.
To be fair, that was quite a hefty price.
But Harry didn't even flinch. He knew he had £20,000 on him. This was just £2,400—he could buy eight of them if he wanted!
So, what was there to hesitate about?
"I'll take two. Please wrap them up."
Her eyes widened. "What did you say? You didn't mishear me, did you? I said two thousand four hundred pounds!" Then she paused, eyes narrowing, "Wait… don't tell me—you have two girlfriends?!"
Harry neither nodded nor shook his head.
"I know what you said. Four thousand eight hundred pounds," he replied matter-of-factly.
Dazed, the saleswoman began wrapping the cold metal bracelets into boxes, still murmuring to herself, "This can't be happening…"
And then, entirely envious, she thought: If my boyfriend gave me something like this, I'd be over the moon…
Then came Harry's voice again: "Oh, and one more, please."
Now, three beautifully packaged boxes sat on the counter. Harry handed over £7,200. Transaction complete.
"Merry Christmas. This one's for you," Harry said, pushing one of the boxes toward her.
She froze, eyes wide with disbelief.
Is he trying to court me? But he's so young… Is that really a problem? Wait—he already has two girlfriends! Should I accept it?
While she spiraled in her thoughts, Harry had already walked out of the department store.
Buying something for a stranger had just been a spur-of-the-moment decision. He had seen the envy and longing in her eyes. Since it cost him nothing and fulfilled someone's wish, why not?
By then, after all the walking and shopping since getting off the train, it was already close to noon.
Harry went to a restaurant to have lunch. Even though he entered with a large bag full of items—looking rather awkward in the quiet dining room—none of the staff treated him with the kind of snobbish disdain you'd read about in novels. Quite the opposite, in fact.
After lunch, Harry realized there wasn't anything else he needed to do in London, so he set off to return.
Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly remembered something and turned into Quality Quidditch Supplies to buy a brand-new Nimbus 2000. Then he took the train back to Hogwarts.
The ride felt endless, but finally, the train came to a stop.
Standing on that modest platform, he watched the train continue off into the distance, stamped his feet against the cold, and turned toward the castle.
He didn't retrace his steps from the beginning of term—no narrow path, no boats across the lake, no hike up the cliffs.
Instead, he opened the Nimbus's packaging, mounted it, and—with all his shopping bags—flew directly toward the school.
As he passed over a courtyard, he spotted the snowman he and Cho Chang had built the day before.
He guided the broom to land near the Gryffindor common room, then carried his things up to his dormitory.
The bright windows were all frosted over. Harry struggled to push one open, finally managing after a bit of effort.
Instantly, cold air rushed in.
He grabbed a special whistle used to summon Optimus, leaned out the window, and looked around. From here, he could see most of the school—silent and still under a blanket of snow.
Everything was white. The grey stone buildings wore snowy caps, and Hogwarts looked as though it had risen straight out of a winter fairy tale.
Harry took two deep breaths of freezing air, then brought the whistle to his lips and blew twice.
Not long after, a black shadow appeared in the sky.
Optimus soared toward the window, gripping the ledge with sharp talons. His piercing eyes locked onto Harry.
Harry tied the gifts one by one to the bird's leg, gave him a pat on the wing, and said, "Go on."
If he'd used regular owls, they would've needed several trips. But for Optimus, it was effortless.
He spread his wings, flapped once, and vanished into the sky—like a shadow swallowed by a snowstorm.
.
.
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