Night Out

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Harry returned to the Dursleys, some time later, with a happy bounce to his step. He made his way in through the back door and came face to face with his aunt, uncle and cousin, all of whom were currently sitting down for their supper.

"Who are you?! Why are you in my house?!" His uncle demanded, causing a frown to overturn his features.

"Uncle Vernon, it's me, Harry." He said to him, watching as his uncle's face turned puce in colour.

"Why you-!" "Vernon!" His aunt petunia interrupted him, making his head snap around in her direction.

She shook her head minutely and then eyed Harry with a wary glance.

"The boy looks different, but he sounds the same. It's definitely him. Now, we don't know what has caused his appearance to change. What if the freaks are watching us, right now?"

His uncle paused and looked between Harry and Petunia, before grumbling and pointing to the stairs, which Harry happily sped away to.

~~~~~

Harry closed his bedroom's door behind him, sighing in relief that his aunt was such a shrewd and cautious woman.

He breathed in relief for a few moments, before deciding to put his new purchases away.

He had expanded his trunk, before he came back for the summer, having to utilise his wand for that sort of precision work. He was especially thankful for his decision to do so, now, as he quickly packed his new skates into one side of his trunk, where he also had nearly a whole wardrobe of different skating costumes and also sportswear, for when he was training.

He then looked at his other purchases, the ones which he had acquired after his time in the rink.

He had managed to work his way back into the shopping district of central London, allowing him to fulfil his last item on his mental checklist: getting some new clothes that actually fit.

He had been a bit lost about what sort of clothes would class as casual, so he had enlisted the help of one of the younger female workers, citing that he was a lost cause for fashion.

She had taken him around to all the bargains on offer, picking out 15 shirts of both patterned and white ones in colour, she had then insisted that they get him a variety of different types of trousers- mostly being either black or navy blue, before finishing with several new pairs of shoes and some jumpers and jackets.

They had been over at the till, when one of her fellow workers had sauntered over, her bra practically on show what with how many buttons were open, and had then proceeded to shamelessly flirt with him.

He had began to feel a bit uncomfortable, between all of her touches and thrusting her boobs in his face, when the girl that had helped him, Chelsea, had snapped and asked her if she didn't have some shelves to be stacking.

The other girl had turned to glare at her, looking back at him for some backup, which he just looked away, before leaving with a huff.

Chelsea had apologised profusely, but he dismissed her words, citing that it was not for her to be apologising for the actions of her coworkers.

She had turned thoughtful, before handing him a slip of paper with an address, leaving him very confused.

He had read the paper, looking back at her for an explanation.

"It's a club. Mostly people in their late teens to mid twenties. Sometimes people in their thirties. I'll buy you a drink, as an apology." He went to protest but she held her hand up to stop him. "It'll be on her tab, so really it's an apology from her."

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