The Headmaster's Only Mistake

Summer Snippets

"Yeah, it was." she responded quietly as if reminiscing a fond memory. Then her face twisted into something horrible. "Oh my god, look at this shirt!" she squawked.

She pulled out what Harry assumed was a t-shirt, but it was hard to discern. It was covered in sequins, lace, rhinestones, and other things that would often make a shirt flattering or pretty but were now making the shirt look like it had been designed by a blind three year old. The colors on it were garish as well, a neon orange and pink clashing with a deep green and pale blue. Stripes of yellow and teal seemed to make their way into the mix as well.

Harry burst out laughing, doubling over. 

"It looks like it belongs to a clown who went to a paintball range." Hermione noted with a giggle.

"Give me that, I'm going to buy it." He wheezed between laughs. 

Hermione looked at him as if he were crazy. "What?!"

Harry smirked at her and shook his head. Hermione begrudgingly handed over the shirt.

"I better not be seeing you wearing that any time soon." she warned. Then he looked him over. "Is it even your size? It seems far too small."

"It's not for me, obviously."

"Well, it better not be for me either." she called after him.

Harry gave her a secretive smile and started walking towards the cashier. Hermione followed him.

"Give me those," Harry told her, grabbing the hangers in her hand. "I'll pay for them."

"Harry, you already paid for lunch!" she protested. Harry rolled his eyes and snatched the clothes Hermione had picked out. The cashier looked between them and the bags hanging off of Harry's arms with a raised eyebrow.

When he reached The Shirt, the cashier blinked at it and then at Harry. He looked like he was about to say something, but thought better of it, shaking his head as he put it in the bag. Harry smiled innocently at the cashier.

"Your total is going to be fourty-eight pounds with sixty-two cents." The cashier told them. He looked at them dubiously, as if doubting that they could pay their due.

Harry pulled out his wallet and sorted through it. He pulled out the amount needed, ignoring the wide-eyed look the cashier was shooting at his thick wallet.

"Anyways, as I was saying," Harry continued, picking up the bag full of clothes. "The shirt isn't for anyone in the friend group... It's for someone I'm sure would be over the moon to receive a gift from Harry Potter and then wear the wretched thing everyday because I gave it to them." He smirked.

"Who are you- oh, is it for the Twins' little sister that you lot hate? What's her name? Georgie? Genevieve? I'm sure it starts with a 'G'."

"Ginevra, actually." Harry corrected, "but yeah, it's for her."

Hermione just snorted and shook her head.

···

"Kreacher, honestly, you mustn't fret. I can pack my own trunk!" Harry tried for what felt like the hundredth time. However, Kreacher, the stubborn elf that he was, disagreed greatly with Harry.

"Little Tiny Master must leave the packing to Kreacher. Kreacher must do his job to serve Little Tiny Master." The house elf insisted, opening the trunk once again and lifting a hand to snap his thin little fingers. Harry resisted rolling his eyes at the nickname Kreacher had given him when he was younger. While it was very much endearing, he was no longer very tiny, nor was he little, but he didn't have the heart to tell Kreacher off.