Later that night, Albus Dumbledore, big cheese and what have you, entered his private quarters after ensuring the wards were still structurally sound for being invisible. It was late and he did not want another crisis on his hands - what, oh what had prompted him to allow the Weasley twins to remain behind when they could have gone with their parents to Romania? If he'd known the trouble those two would have gotten in this year, he'd have gladly paid for the international portkey himself just to get rid of those two rapscallions.
Still… they did have some redeeming qualities. If only those would show more often. Ah well, it was time to finally review Mr. Potter's Muggle Studies assignment.
Sitting on a comfy chair near the fire, Albus had a cup of tea brought up from the kitchens and began to read.
.....
December 22nd, London, Harrod's
It was a cold December day but Harry was excited to the point he was immune from the cold. And he would have been cold. His sisters had put some snow down his collar when they'd all loaded into the family car for a jaunt on the M-way. The previous evening Harry had casually mentioned that while he had managed to secure some gifts for his brother and sisters, he didn't have anything for his parents. His mother didn't seem to mind but he managed to get in some subtle puppy-dog like glances her way and she relented saying she needed to go to London anyway. Of course James had wanted to stay home but his mum had put the kibosh on that saying he needed to improve his driving skills. Harry had wanted to stay home after hearing that, but his mother had strong-armed him into agreeing to go if only to learn how to drive himself one day. They didn't call it the M-way of Death for nothing, you know.
So early the next morning the family loaded up in the 1971 VW Bug (minus its running boards because it made the car look cooler without them on). James threw it into third and floored it, killing the engine in the process. He restarted and a few jerking movements later they were off and running.
Harry wasn't of a religious type but he did find himself praying alongside his siblings that their father would get them to their destination alive. Especially after cutting off the fourth semi-truck in as many minutes.
"Dad!" Harry yelped as the car lurched violently to the right to avoid oncoming traffic.
"Yeah, son?" James grinned at the implied challenge of getting to London without an accident. This time that is.
"How did you ever get a driver's license driving like this?"
"… Harry, are we going to die?" Shelia whimpered.
"No, Shelia, we're not. I'll make sure of it," Harry reassured his sister.
"License?" James wondered aloud. "You need a license to drive?"
"Yes!" Rose answered. "And lessons wouldn't hurt either!"
#
It took awhile, but eventually they were in London, near Hyde Park. And on their way to Harrod's. Once safely parked and the keys taken away from his father, Harry quietly told his mother he needed some time alone to buy some presents. Figuring he still needed something for her (or a far less probability: James), she told him where they would meet when he was done in an hour, no more. Understood, young man? He understood and got moving.
Harry was quickly engulfed in an elusive search for that oh-so-perfect gift for one of his parents. Two departments later he stopped dead in his tracks. Not because he'd seen something he was looking for, but because he encountered something he hadn't expected. Or, more specifically, someone. Several someones.
Ahead of him were four very prim and proper people. Well, they thought they were prim and proper. But really they were not that prim and proper at all. Two adults and two children, of which one of the kids was obviously a friend of the family as he didn't look anything like the others.
Harry watched the foursome break off, with the father handing his big son some cash before heading back off with the mother. The bigger (well, rounder anyway) boy, roughly Harry's age, then proceeded with the smaller boy to the market on the lower floor and nick some candy, stuffing a few pieces into his mouth. Harry followed discreetly, wanting to know what Dudley Dursley and his friend Piers were up to.
Harry thought back to a time a reality ago when he was younger and had to go with the Dursley's to the fancy store. It was Christmas. An enjoyable time of the year for most. Harry hadn't enjoyed Christmas as a child the first time around. Not because the Dursleys hadn't believed in the holiday - for they did; up to a point. They enjoyed the time off. They enjoyed watching the Christmas parades and shows. They enjoyed spending time with family.
They didn't consider Harry part of the family so left him out of virtually everything. The one time they had included him in something, they'd had no choice. He was to go with Dudley and hold anything he was told to and when Dud had all the toys he wanted, they were to find his parents and they'd see what to get him.
Harry had been relegated to playing the part of a pack mule. He was 7 years old.
But hey, at least he wasn't locked up with only spiders for company.
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