Molly’s finger traced the edge of the wooden cabinet and her lips curled in disgust.
The small store at first appeared to be quaint, but upon closer inspection it gave Molly the impression that it hadn’t had a thorough cleaning in years. Undoubtedly though, she would be able to find Arthur the perfect gift somewhere on the cluttered and grimy shelves. The perfect gift for the perfect “ and by perfect Molly meant inexpensive enough for her limited amount of money without looking cheap - price.
Unknowingly, Molly had stumbled into the same store that Arthur had visited only a few days previously. In contrast to Arthur’s adventure into ‘The Little Shop,’ she hadn’t entered the store because of its claim to low prices, but instead because she had visited nearly every Muggle store on the street. Also, unlike Arthur, Molly had a vague idea of what she hoped to find amongst the thick layer of dust.
Molly danced between aisles, her hands skimming over the tops of shirts without much interest. If she had been in search of clothing, she could have stayed at home and knitted or sewn something for her husband. Instead, she found herself out on this frigid day in search of a Muggle item that Arthur would enjoy without a doubt.
Finally, she found her way to a row of trinkets. Many of the palm-sized items seemed to be intricately decorated with bright colours and careful strokes of a paintbrush. Delicately, she picked a frail looking ballerina from the shelf, inspecting it closely.
Arthur had spoken of such trinkets on numerous occasions; the kind of statue that danced and sang a short melody. However, Molly credited those tales to his imaginative thoughts that probably grew from someone’s mistaken story at the office. After all, without magic, how could such things be accomplishable to Muggles?
“Can I help you?”
A Muggle man only a few inches taller than Molly stood in front of her. From the expression on his face it was obvious the store didn’t see many customers, even during the normally busy Christmas season.
The man was dressed in simple stone washed blue jeans and a loose fitting green, long sleeved shirt.
Molly surveyed her own outfit with a small grin. She was glad to notice that she could easily pass as a normal Muggle, despite the wooden stick discreetly tucked underneath her knitted sweater.
“Yes, please do, Charlie.”
The man looked slightly taken aback, but he managed to quickly regroup only a few seconds later.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Charlie questioned.
“Something for my husband,” proclaimed Molly. “He has an odd fascination for…” she stopped suddenly in her sentence before the words could escape her lips. He has an odd fascination for Muggle items.
“For?” prompted the clerk, a bite of impatience on the edge of his voice.
“For trinkets. You know, the odd little things that are utterly useless and people cast out as rubbish.” Molly nodded slightly, trying to make up for her stumble of words. “Oh!” exclaimed the redhead in recognition. “He also has this old record player he absolutely adores.”
Charlie nodded in a forced friendly action. As uninterested as he was in Molly’s gift affairs, he pondered his suggestion for several minutes. Finally, after an unnecessarily long amount of time, Charlie suggested the obvious.
“Why not get him a few records? We have some of the older ones at a large discount.”
Molly’s mouth went slightly ajar. Sure, she had considered the options on numerous occasions, but she had assumed that records would be too expensive for what she was prepared to pay. Or rather, what she was prepared to give up.
“Okay,” agreed Molly, motioning for Charlie to lead the way to the records.
Charlie nodded contently as he began to walk towards the cash register, motioning to a cardboard box of circular disks next to the till.
Molly nodded slightly. However, instead of immediately sifting through the box of records, she headed towards the opposite side of the counter.
“How many of the records could I get for this?” she questioned, tentatively pronouncing each syllable. In her ivory coloured grasp her gaudy black camera hung delicately. “Two? Three records?”
“Three of the newer records,” spoke the clerk, immediately surprising Molly. Charlie extended his hand towards the camera, which Molly carefully handed over.
Charlie nodded in approval, motioning towards the rack of records that were in decent conditions. He waited idly while Molly made her selection and then disappeared behind the break room.
Molly walked out of the store with a happy grin. Clutched in her hands was Arthur’s Christmas present, her profit for exchanging her beloved Muggle camera.
But she didn’t have any regrets.
Christmas By Numbers by FeatherTrader
Chapter Notes: A huge thanks to my beta reader, Suzie!