He had only managed to escape Molly’s questioning by saying that he needed to go to the library and get some research in. He had spent longer than he had deemed necessary convincing her that that was the only way he would be able to receive the promotion.
The hesitant wizard tapped his side pocket reassuringly, where two vital objects were carefully hidden.
Arthur stopped suddenly as a small antique store appeared next to him. Overhead a plain, simple sign read in bold black letters ‘The Little Stop.’ In the clear glass windows there was an assortment of odd Muggle objects on display, but it was the vibrant red and green poster that caught his attention.
50% Percent Off All Items!
-Take Advantage of this Sale Before it Ends-
The wizard paused automatically in thought. Maybe here was the perfect place for buying Molly an inexpensive gift. Not that he wanted to be cheap, but truthfully it was all he could manage. He had a biting feeling that his wife might become offended if he presented her with a gift instead of honouring his promise. But then again… Maybe just something small?
Arthur walked into the store uncertainly, the store bell echoing as the door closed behind him. The knocking sound of the bell reminded him of his ill kept promise to his wife, the fact that he hadn’t yet violated it seemingly irrelevant. Immediately, Arthur promised himself he would only look, although he wasn’t sure how long that guarantee would last.
The wizard began his search towards the back of the store, planning on shielding himself from any other customers that had entered. However, it quickly became evident that this was the sort of store that no one bothered with, and instead marked it off as rubbish.
However, Arthur’s infatuation with Muggles and consequently their everyday items, kept his interest in the objects sharp. Yet, even to someone whose interest was as prominent as Arthur's couldn’t help but wonder what use Muggles could find for objects such as a singing black box. His interest in the customers of this quaint shop only grew as he found small car looking creations that had to have been made for a bug-sized group of people.
After exploring the odder half of the store, the wizard found the more practical gifts that he was looking for. Books were shelved in long rows across the walls, though Arthur was lost as to in what order they were. Nearby, neutrally coloured coats were hung neatly on racks, each unique in their own way.
Various items caught Arthur’s immediate attention, like the long fur coat that would have been a heavy contrast to Molly’s fragile looking pale skin. Or even the embroidered matching scarf and mittens. Yet nothing seemed to scream ‘Molly’ in a way that would make it impossible for him to deny purchasing it.
Finally, the persistent husband began heading towards the exit of the antique store. He silently made a resolution to stick to the side of the store where the bookcases stood massively so there would be no chance for distraction. Slowly, he trudged towards the door, saddened in the fact that he had not found the perfect gift for the edited version of their first Christmas.
It was odd how it found him. Even as a young child he had scoffed at how foolishly such acts seemed to happen in such fairy-tales. Someone would be down on their luck, and then, almost magically, the perfect solution would appear. Yet, Arthur didn’t question this phenomenon.
There amongst the endless row of books, was the exact gift he had been searching for. Arthur’s suddenly gentle fingers tugged at the leather diary, freeing it from its tightly packed row. The other books seemed to breathe in the absence of the diary, automatically expanding to fill the gap.
In his tender grasp the soft pad of his finger traced the silk embroidery that danced across the cover. It was only the image of Molly tucked next to their fire with her quill moving fluidly across the pages of the diary, that convinced Arthur he had to get it. It would surely be messing with fate if he didn’t.
The oddly dressed wizard’s hopes suddenly crashed as the book fell open in his hands. In his hindsight the act seemed to be mocking his gift idea. Scrawled across the water-ruined pages was the unreadable writing that filled the pages in a loopy mess. Sourly, he decided Molly’s handwriting would have looked much more elegant in such a diary.
However, the surrounding books had seemed to grow, filling the empty space the diary had once occupied. With a twinge of remorse, he shoved the book onto the nearest table.
A hollow ringing sound met his ears promptly, evidence that he had carelessly thrown the book onto another object.
The polished silver caught his eye, as Arthur caught sight of the explicit glimmering camera stand.
The perfect gift.
A new image replaced the first, as he visualized Molly placing her gaudy camera on the stand, taking new, better portraits of the pair of them in front of their Christmas tree.
Rapidly, the wizard grabbed the stand, marking it with his sticky fingers. However, he paid the small imperfection little heed as he rushed through the labyrinth of aisles, searching for the register.
While in the secrecy of a rack of women’s jewellery, he enlarged the carefully wrapped parcel from his coat pocket. The now fully sized record player rested on a magically appeared trolley, another magically induced object.
“I need to trade something,” announced Arthur, his confidence waning as his statement was made. “You do make trades here, right?”
The Muggle clerk looked oddly towards Arthur, his hands retreating into the safety of his black leather jacket. To the average person the clerk might have seemed like a shady character, with his drooping brown hair and the small gold ring tucked through his lip. But no amount of fear he had ever provoked could overcome the look of awkwardness that was now evident on his profile.
“Sure…” His eyes were directed towards Arthur’s odd outfit. The pair were roughly around the same age, but the clerk “ one of the few workers on duty in the store at the time, was positive that he wouldn’t have been caught dead in such an outfit.
Oddly enough, Arthur didn’t notice the odd looks he was receiving from the guy at the register. Instead he focused on what he had come here for: to get his wife the perfect Christmas gift.
“Good, good,” he whispered to himself thoughtfully as he tried to decide the best way to present the trade. “It might look ancient…but it’s still in pretty good shape.” Arthur motioned stiffly towards the record player. “I don’t need too much for it,” he added, choosing his words carefully. “Just this stand, really.”
In drastic contrast the new metal stand cast a shameful shadow on the grimy machine. Really, it was little use to anyone as it was so outdated, but Arthur hoped it would get him the metal stand at the very least. For a long moment, he got lost in the vision of Molly receiving the unexpected Christmas gift.
Without even bothering to inspect the piece of machinery any closer than from the safety of his counter, the clerk “ whose nametag read ‘Charlie’, handed Arthur a few crumpled bills and mumbled something about having a good day. Then the cashier disappeared into an office behind the register.
The broad smile didn’t register with Arthur’s consciousness as he bounded out of the chiming doors. Molly would be so pleased despite the fact that she had made him promise that he wouldn’t spend any money on her for Christmas. But, nonetheless, this gift would most defiantly please her, and technically he hadn’t spent any money.
Arthur returned to The Burrow with the feeling that this would undoubtedly be the best Christmas ever.