Relations, Revelations

It\'s so hard to keep posting when nobody (except Carmen, god bless her) reviews. I\'m sure I could possibly be driven to write and update more frequently by a few kind words of encouragement. As for my dog, he never even made it to the vet. My mom set him down to walk and he keeled over after a few steps. Anyway, here\'s the next chapter. A day in the life of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. You\'d be annoyed if this was shaping up to be a daily occurrence, too.


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Chapter 27 – Service

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The motley Gryffindors and the ebony-haired half-Veela picked up their cloaks, wands, purses, and other such nonsense, leaving the bookworm and the troublemakers-by-trade behind. Hermione had decided that she would take George for a tour of muggle London while Fred visited Angelina at her training camp in Tutshill.

Harry was rather eager to get started on the décor of his very own new room at Snape Estates. It would be a far cry from Dudley’s spare room that he was merely allowed to inhabit for a month or two during the summer, much to the dismay of the Dursleys. He and Uncle Severus had agreed that he could live at the Estates over the summer, come and go to the Burrow as he pleased, and go to Diagon Alley or muggle London as often as he liked, so long as he let Severus know, and so long as he was at least somewhat self sufficient. Severus was his legal guardian, not his babysitter. He signed legal documents and gave him a place to stay. He did not play daddy. The Weasleys were his parental figures. Harry knew the boundaries and guidelines, and that’s just the way he liked it.

They flooed into Diagon Alley and headed straight for Hassan’s Home Hut & Hardware, turning more than a few heads along the way. Like every other store on Diagon Alley, the storefront looked like a mere hole in the wall. Each shop featured a large display window and a simple doorway entrance. The size of the shop inside was always a mystery. Hassan’s was no different, but it happened to cover about as much ground as a small muggle Ikea.

After much advising from Ginny, Hermione, and Sephera, not to mention Cho, Luna, Lavender, Padma, Parvati, Angelina, Alicia, Susan, Katie, Hannah… Harry had decided that he would go for a blue/green plaid motif. Seamus and Dean had tried to talk him into going Gryffindor red and gold, George, Fred and Ron had opted for black and orange like the Chudley Cannons, Ernie and Justin had lectured on the masculinity of yellow and black, Hermione wanted to make sure he had enough bookshelves, Luna reminded him of the importance of magazine racks, Sephera swore by the BroomBuddy broom stand (Keeps your broom and Quidditch gear within reach or your money back!), Justin recommended a huge Sony entertainment center with 5-disc CD changer and subwoofers, Neville reminded him that no room was complete without a few house plants, and—

“Ah! Mr. Potter! Welcome to Hassan’s Home Hut & Hardware! Is there anything I help you with today?” Mr. Hassan Al Hassif himself approached Harry and his small gang with open arms and an ear-to-ear smile.

“Well, I need to decorate my bedroom…”

“Oh! Then you need bed first! Then we decide color scheme, accessories, window dressings…” Hassan’s accent was quite heavy and almost couldn’t be understood.

“Er, Mr. Hassif, I’ve already got a bed. I just need to add the decorations, replace a bit of the furniture, you know. There’s really not that much to it.”

“Well then please lets show you the Asobooienujengal Collection!” At least that’s what it sounded like to Harry’s ears. He could have invited him to dine in Timbuktu for all he knew. “We have lovely bedding and window dressings…”

“No, Mr. Hassif, I’d really rather just peruse the store, see what I like. I’ll let you know if I need any help.”

“I only want to make sure Mr. Harry Potter has the best bedroom in all of England! Mr. Potter is of course the best wizard in all of England!”

Harry blushed. “Uh, yes, thank you, Mr. Hassif. We’ll just be… um…”

Mr. Hassif was looking at Harry like he was about to lay a golden egg. Slowly over the course of their brief conversation, half of the store’s staff had gathered behind their manager, either awaiting instructions, or just trying to catch a better glimpse of the boy who had saved the wizarding world once again.

“We’re going to look at lighting fixtures. Thank you Mr. Hassif.” Sephera’s American accent jumped in, grabbed Harry by the arm, and dragged him down one of the aisles, the two Weasleys hot on their heels.

“Godric, Salazar, and Helga, I never thought we’d shake them. Nice move, Phera.” Ginny patted her on the shoulder, ged, ed, then slipped her hand into Harry’s.

Harry still looked a bit nervous, but slowly, very slowly, shifted to giggle fits. The other three rapidly joined in, all holding the stitches in their sides, faces turning red and redder, stumbling around the aisle in gales of laughter.

“Did you see the look on Hassan’s face?”

“It’s the same look Hermione does when she knows an answer to a NEWT level question!”

“Bleedin’ hell! ‘Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Potter? Finger sandwich? Caviar nibblet? Snifter of brandy perhaps? Anything for our savior, Mr. Potter!’”

Ron propped his head on one of the shelves while he wiped tears from his cheeks. Ginny buried her face in Harry’s chest, shoulders shaking, trying to stifle her immense show of amusement. Harry stuffed his face in Ginny’s mass of red hair and howled his laughter into the top of her head.

Sephera had thrown back her head in glee, and was billowing her laughter at the ceiling. “Can I get a glass of champagne over here? I’m related to the Boy-Who-Lived!!!”

Harry looked up and spotted a woman, throw pillow clutched in her hand, looking positively petrified by the amused teenagers before her.

“Sorry ma’am. We’ll leave you to your shopping,” he said between snickers.

“Yeah, we’ll just be heading… that way, right Phera?”

“Yup, down that aisle to the Abowajiboobie collection…HA!” Sephera quickly turned her laugh to a cough, covered her mouth with her hand, grabbed Ron, and slinked over to the next aisle. The woman still stood ridgid, staring at Harry.

“You… y-y-you’re… you’re Harry Potter!” she finally managed to squeak out.

“Erm, yes, I am.” Harry smoothed down his bangs unconsciously with his left hand, while holding his right hand out for a polite shake.

The throw pillow fell to the floor, and the woman inched her hand over to Harry, eyes never leaving his face.

“You… you look a lot younger than I imagined. Congratulations… for, well… you know…”

“For defeating Voldemort?” The woman visibly winced, and ducked slightly, clutching Harry’s outstretched hand a bit tighter. She cleared her throat and loosened her grip.

“Erm, yes. Precisely. Well done.” She kept shaking his hand. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Sixteen. I’m a sixth year at Hogwarts.”

“Oh, yes, Hogwarts. I know Hogwarts. Well. Goodbye then, Harry Potter. Congratulations again.” She kept right on shaking.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“C you you please sign this for my son? He’d be positively chuffed.” With her free hand, she pulled a paper tissue from her purse and handed it to Harry. Then she dug for a pen, and passed that along as well.

“No problem. But er… I’m gonna need that hand.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She let go of his hand, Harry signed the napkin, and handed it back to her.

“Well, long day of shopping. Tell your son I said hi.”

“My what? Oh, right. Yes…”

“Have a nice day.” Harry grabbed Ginny and dragged her off to where Sephera and Ron were still laughing.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“A fan,” Ron said as seriously as possible, trying in vain to wipe the smirk from his face.

“Well I gathered that much. But what in the name of Margaret Thatcher did she want my autograph for? I’m really not all that famous.”

“Get used to it, Cuz. You killed Voldie. That’s all that matters to them. How bout this one?” Sephera pulled a navy blue lampshade over her head.

Ron tilted it up and stole a kiss. “Perfect,” he grinned.

“Please, don’t play with the merchandise.” A Stan Shunpike-esque salesman approached the group.

“Oh, sorry.” Sephera grinned at him. Harry laughed.

“Oh, Mr. Potter. My apologies. I didn’t realize…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He held up a green lampshade, in much the same style as the first. “D’you know how much this costs?”

“I believe that one’s four galleons, but I’m sure we can swing a discount for you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Consider it our way of showing our thanks.”

Harry blushed, but more out of anger than embarrassment.

“Could you tell us where the office furniture is, please?”

“Offices? Right this way.” The boy took a few steps in hopes of leading the group across the store, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“No, just tell us. We’ll find it.”

“Oh, alright. Well, if you go down this aisle, then up aisle twelve, you’ll find the Offices department in the back corner of the store. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

“No, that’s more than enough. Thanks, er, Norbert.”

“It was my pleasure, Mr. Potter.” The scrawny kid called Norbert went back to the cart which he had been stocking the shelves from. Harry huffed down the aisle toward aisle twelve.

“What… the… HELL! I’m not bloody ROYALTY!!!” Ron, Sephera, and Ginny ran after him, barely catching up enough to listen to the rant. “And what kind of bloody name is Norbert? Hagrid called his bloody dragon Norbert! Merlin knows that kid was scaly enough!”

“That was acne.”

“Scales! Acne! I don’t care! I can’t take a damn shopping trip without having half the wizarding world up my arse trying to tell me what to buy! It’s only my bloody bedroom! Can’t I decorate it without advice from the Ministry of Magic?!?!”

“Do you just want to go home, Harry?” Ginny placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as he slumped down into a chair behind a desk that was on display in Offices.

“No I don’t bloody want to go home. I want to buy my sodding furniture and set up my sodding room. Is that too much to ask?”

Ginny pulled a stapler and spell-o-tape dispenser from one of the shelves, placed them on the desk, and transfigured them into a cap and sunglasses. Harry looked at them, then grinned at her.
ime ime and time again you remind me why I love you.” He pulled the cap onto his head, placed the sunglasses on his nose, stood from the desk, and proceeded to pick out some “sodding furniture” for his bedroom.