So off they went. Harry and Dudly would head for the toy department but Dudley would get sidetracked and next thing Harry knew, they were surrounded by mounds and mounds of candy. Boxed candy. Bagged candy. Individual candy. Square candy. Round candy. Small candy. Big candy.
"Candy," Dudley drooled.
Harry'd had a bad feeling about what was going to happen and sure enough, he'd been right.
"Here, Harry," Dudley shoved two bags filled with colorful chocolates into Harry's hands.
"I can't eat there - I can't even pay for these," Harry had mentioned.
Dudley cuffed him upside the head. "They're for me, dummy. Put them in your pocket and don't let anyone see."
"That's stealing."
"No duh. Now do it. Or else." Usually Dudley's "or else's" made Harry black and blue so he did as told. Harry was sure his uncle and aunt wouldn't like this and wouldn't pay for them later.
Over the course of the next 20 minutes, Harry stuffed his coat pockets, down his pants, and inside his voluminous shirt three large boxes of chocolate-covered nuts, five bags of assorted hard candies, two dozen individually wrapped marshmallow eggs (two of which melted in an embarrassing location and later chaffed), and four tins of Christmas biscuits. Dudley on the other hand picked up a small robot toy from a display stand and held it in his hands to show his parents what he wanted.
Dudley motioned for Harry to follow him. Dudley had what he wanted Harry figured. Shuffling behind him, Harry made his way out of the department. Or would have had a large hand not come down on his shoulder, impeding his progress to egress.
"Right. Where do you think yuir goin', you little ragamuffin?" the surly and burly security guard said to a nervous Harry.
"Um, that way. With my cousin."
"What did you do now, Harry?" Dudley automatically put in.
The security guard looked at the obvious differences between the two boys. One was dressed in fine clothes and was subsequently relegated to a fine boy status. The other, well, was in little more than rags and oversized clothes he'd probably nicked from someone else. The security guard was certain he'd nabbed the right perpetrator.
"He's nicked some candies with no intention of payin' for them, right?"
"Pay with what? I don't have any money."
"Harry, you didn't," Dudley quickly shifted any blame from himself.
"So this is yuir cousin?"
"Yes, but I'm afraid I didn't know he was doing anything. Not that I'm surprised. My father says he's always doing things like that."
"Oh he does, does he? And just where are your parents?" he asked Harry.
"They died when I was little."
"That's no excuse for stealing. You. Where are your parents?"
Dudley pointed in a general direction and the security guard "escorted" both of them off to find the responsible adults.
Roughly five minutes later, far too long in Harry's eyes with all the other people in the store in their nice clothes looking down on him and tutting and tsking at what Harry knew was his appearance, they found Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.
"What's going on?" Vernon asked nervously.
The security guard grabbed Harry by the scruff of his collar. "It seems your nephew has been stealing candy and even putting a few items in your son's coat while he wasn't looking, sir."
"Oh he was, was he?"
Harry learned an important lesson that night. No matter how innocent you were, as long as you looked the part of a vagrant, society would treat you like one and no one would believe anything you said. Especially if your fat cousin with the bulging pants and the couple of goodies he'd nicked on his own that trickled out from the cuffs that were then kicked under a table looked better off than you. Dud did the crime but Harry paid the fine. Or more accurately, he paid the time in the closet for the next few days with no time out for eating. The chamber pot had really gotten rancid that time.
So it was no surprise now that Harry smiled and looked at his watch, deciding he had enough time. He then came up from behind the rounder boy (who had stuffed a chocolate-covered cherry into his mouth) and said, "Why, hello there, Duddykins. How are you today other than stuffing your mouth? No, no, don't turn around. Wouldn't want you or your friend Piers to make a scene with filching sweets now would we?"
"Who are you?" came a nervous voice.
"No one of consequence."
"What do you want?" said Piers.
"Your cash, tubby. Or I rat you out to the store detectives."
"Go ahead, they won't find anything. I haven't stolen anything."
"Then how do you explain all the candy in your pockets, or the crystal doo-dads in Piers' pockets?"
"How do you…" Piers started.
"I've been watching you. Now hand it over, fatty."
"My dad will hear…"
"Yeah, yeah, Vernon will most certainly hear of it and you know what, he won't do anything."
Piers said, "Laughs on you, then. We don't have any money."
Harry feigned surprise. "You don't? Oh well. Guess I'll have to get it out of you another way. Here, stand still."
Dudley was understandably nervous when the other boy pulled his coat up a bit on the backside. "What are you… ouch! Blankity blank-blank! That bloody well hurts you cad!"
"Atomic wedgies tend to do that, fatty. Next time have some cash. You too, ratty."
"You can't call me that."
"You're right. I apologize for calling you ratty. Let me shake your hand."
"Fine, but that's… ouch! Blankity blank-blank! That really does hurt!"
"Get lost, both of you. Run back to your mama." And with that, Harry slid away from the two boys, back around another isle and then into shadow to watch what they did.
....
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