Written for Hogwarts School Around the Words in Thirty-one Days Challenge:

Monaco - Colour: Magenta

A/N: About halfway through writing this, I realised I was basing young James' and Albus' characters off two little boys I babysit... whose names are ironically Jamie and Alex.

Word Count: 764

Harry entered Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron, simply because he would never tire of the sight of the magical street. He also knew he was in for a long afternoon, so why not start it pleasantly? He tightened his grip on Albus' hand, and kept a careful eye on James, who was likely to sprint ahead at any moment. Lily was securely hugged against Harry's hip, and while that prevented her from running away, it certainly didn't prevent her from kicking. A lot.

Harry took slow steps into the alley, his gaze latched on James like an unseen leash. They were stares, of course. There were always stares. But the rest of the wizarding world had long since learned not to mess with the Potters if they had their children with them. Personally, Harry believed it to have been one of Ginny's finer moments.

"What should we get Mum for her birthday?" Harry asked his children, preparing himself for the task of not laughing at their response. It changed every year, often determined by James. Last year, it had been an orange. James furrowed his brow in thought, and Albus watched his brother expectantly. Lily laughed, pointing at the different shops.

"A book!" James declared.

"A book?" Harry asked, amused. It was, admittedly, one of the least odd requests. Still, not something he would buy for Ginny.

"A Muggle book!" James elaborated. Albus nodded enthusiastically.

Lily nodded along. "Big book!"

Harry sighed. All the time spent walking to the Leaky Cauldron, and they could've just gone to the bookstore a few streets from their house. Harry turned out of the alley and began the walk back into Muggle London, vanishing the cloak he wore over Muggle clothes on the way.

Once arrived at said location, Harry led James straight to fiction section- the shelf that was full of stories about dogs, in particular. It was the only place he could think to take them. Harry was pretty sure Ginny already had all the mystery books at this store.

"No," James pouted, frowning at the selection of titles, "this isn't the right place!"

Albus struggled his hand free of Harry, who relented. The store was small, and there were only a few other customers. Lily kicked Harry again, wanting to run around with her brothers. James was leading Albus straight to a shelf in the back, and Harry's long strides stayed close behind them. In his endeavor to not loose his children, Harry overlooked the fact that they were in the children's section.

"This one!" James declared, holding up a bright magenta book. There wasn't a title or illustration on the front, and it was bound with faux leather, which was the aforementioned shade of pink.

Harry studied it, at a lose of words. On the one hand, Ginny delighted in anything pink for the sole reason of the colour "not matching well with her hair." On the other… it was journal. A diary. In other words, a very bad idea.

"Er, James… are sure about that?" he asked, hoping his son would tire of the idea.

"Yes!"

"We can't… get her a nice story of something?"

"No. 'Cause that's what we got for Auntie Minny and they can't have the same present."

Harry fumbled through his son's logic for a bit. It was true: they had given Hermione (dubbed "Minny" by Teddy) a book.

"Aren't books and diaries too alike?"

"What a day-ree?" Lily asked, pausing in her fiddling of Harry's shirt to point at the diary.

"This," James told her, shoving the book into the air, which really only got it to Harry's middle.

"And I don't think Mum will like it," Harry tried to explain, his voice fading away at the end of the sentence.

"How do you know?" James challenged.

"Yeah! She's not your mum," Albus added, siding with James.

"Yeah!" Lily squealed, just to join in the fun.

Harry switched Lily over to his other arm and took a deep breath. Explaining the concept of marriage was already a lost battle, and at this point, he just wanted them to set down the diary so they could leave the bookstore.

"We are not buying that," Harry said, holding out his hand for James to give him the book.

"Okay…" James said, "but don't blame me if Mum doesn't like her present."

Harry returned the diary to its shelf. Who knew a six-year-old could be so passive aggressive?