Henry was genuinely pleased with what the twins had produced. He set the gifts aside, and Lucy appeared silently and packed them into his trunk before he had thought to ask.
When he woke the next morning, the dark leather trunk had been polished to a bright gleam, and the interior, protected by an Undetectable Extension Charm, was packed with careful efficiency.
Lucy was waiting in the corridor when he came out.
"Is Your Highness leaving soon?" She blinked her large eyes up at him.
"Yes, a day early." Henry crouched down so that he was level with her. "There are a few things I need to see to, and I'll need you with me."
He did not explain further, and Lucy did not ask. She simply nodded with great energy and pressed a small packet of pastries, neatly wrapped in brown paper, into his hands.
They were the Hogwarts kitchen's butter biscuits, which Henry had mentioned in passing a few days ago.
"For Your Highness's family," Lucy said softly, the corner of her tea-towel twisted slightly in her hands.
Henry thanked her quietly and told her to add them to the trunk.
Lucy's eyes brightened. She took the packet back, dipped her head, stepped back, and vanished with the faintest sound, like a cork drawn from a bottle.
He had barely straightened up when heavy footsteps sounded from the direction of the grounds.
Hagrid was crossing toward the castle entrance, bundled in his moleskin coat, the red and gold scarf wound around his neck.
His face, reddened from the cold wind, opened into a broad smile when he spotted Henry, and then the smile faltered as he registered Henry's travelling clothes and the trunk.
"Leaving already?" He rubbed his large hands together awkwardly. "I thought you'd stay on a few more days. Fang's missed you something awful these past few days—"
As though this were his cue, Fang's enormous head appeared from behind Hagrid's leg, his tail beginning to move at a speed that generated a small amount of wind.
"I'm going home for a few days," Henry said. "I'll be back when term starts." He paused. "The scarf looks well on you."
Hagrid looked down at the gold and red wool at his neck with a slightly sheepish expression, he had not, by all appearances, taken it off since the day he received it.
The faint irritation that had been lingering since his conversation with Harry and Ron about Fluffy appeared to lift slightly.
"Safe journey!" Hagrid waved with considerable vigour. "Give my best to your family!"
"I will," Henry said, and smiled back.
The snow was still falling. Henry walked out through the castle doors and across the grounds at a steady pace.
He was not going to the station, the train would take too long, and there was a more direct option available to him.
House-elves could Apparate freely, without the restrictions that bound witches and wizards, and they could bring their masters with them to any location they had previously visited.
Lucy had been to Diagon Alley. The distance presented no difficulty.
Lucy reappeared beside him in the snow, small and quiet and ready.
"Whenever Your Highness is ready," she said, looking up at him.
Henry nodded.
She reached out and took his hand with great care.
The world bent.
The sensation was almost impossible to describe with any accuracy, something like being gripped by a very determined invisible force and briefly turned inside out.
The ground disappeared from beneath his feet, the wind roared in his ears, and a sharp disorientation swept through him. Then, all at once, everything snapped back into place.
Henry steadied himself and opened his eyes.
He was standing at the entrance to Diagon Alley, outside the Leaky Cauldron.
Lucy released his hand and stepped back to her customary half-step behind him, neat and composed.
Diagon Alley before Christmas was the busiest Henry had seen it. The Leaky Cauldron was packed well beyond comfort, and Tom could barely move behind the bar, managing only a brief nod across the crowd as Henry passed through.
Beyond the familiar brick wall, the cobblestone street was alive with coloured lights strung in shop windows and Christmas trees decorated in every variety the wizarding world had to offer.
A long queue snaked out of Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, where people stood shivering in good humour as they waited for the winter-limited hot butter rum ice cream.
In the window of Flourish and Blotts, several self-turning picture books competed for attention—one featuring a Welsh Green dragon banking through clouds, another a magical fireworks encyclopaedia, while a group of children pressed their faces against the glass and showed no intention of leaving.
Henry moved through the crowd without hurrying.
His first stop was Gringotts. The goblin manager Griphook personally came to greet the holder of Vault 777, and there was in his beady eyes a particular gleam that expressed, with perfect professional discretion, how very pleased he was to assist a client who withdrew meaningful sums.
Once the formalities were completed, Griphook offered, with solicitous efficiency, to arrange for Gringotts to assist with carrying his purchases.
"No need," Henry said pleasantly. "I have arrangements in place."
Griphook did not press the matter, but bowed with additional depth and personally escorted Henry to the bronze doors.
"A very Merry Christmas, Your Highness!" he called after him. "Please ask for me personally, next time."
Henry raised one hand in acknowledgement as he walked out.
Lucy reappeared soundlessly at his elbow.
For the next two hours, they moved through the shops at an unhurried pace, Lucy half a step behind and slightly to his left at all times.
Whenever Henry settled on a gift, she would step forward, touch it very gently with one small hand, and it would disappear, stored away in a space only she had access to.
His first destination was a tea shop. It was not a large establishment, but it had the quality of somewhere that had been decorated by someone who cared about the effect rather than the impression, warm and specific rather than grand.
Dozens of tea canisters in different colours were arranged along the walls and in the window, and in the most prominent position sat a hand-painted ceramic jar featuring a Niffler rolling in the snow: round and self-satisfied, its paws clutching a gold coin, its expression conveying with complete accuracy the inner life of a creature that has decided the whole world belongs to it.
His great-grandmother was well into her nineties, and Henry had decided that unusual gifts were not quite appropriate for her.
He browsed the canisters carefully and chose a Christmas black tea blend, a speciality of the wizarding world, and explained to the shopkeeper, a cheerful round-faced witch, that it was a gift for someone of considerable age.
Her face lit up immediately. She reached below the counter and produced a jar of honey featuring the same Niffler design, pressing it into his hands.
"This one as well," she said warmly. "The honey has calming properties, perfectly suited to taking with tea. Older people tend to appreciate something sweet, and the combination will help her sleep well."
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patreon.com/palevolt100 _Read early chapters of up to chapter 104