Hogwarts Forum (Challenges and Assignments)

Assignment #11

Charms: Household Spells

Task #1: Pack Charm - Write about a character shopping for clothes.

The charity shop was almost empty. It smelled of dust and must and mothballs. If such a scent had to have a name, Albus probably would have gone with resignation, or aging despair. He pushed forward through the racks of clothes and shelves of brick-a-brack anyway, keeping a tight grip on Scorpius's hand to stop him floating over to the books.

"What are we doing here?"

"Shopping," Albus said, narrowly avoiding a tempting stack of board games. He had enough to be going on with, according to everyone else - although nobody complained about his collection when game night came around.

"Well, yes," Scorpius said, somewhere behind him. The eye-roll was heavily implied in each word. "I understood that much, funnily enough. I know what shops are for. But why are we shopping here, of all places?"

"You ruined your last coat, and I don't have the patience to go all the way into the city just to get battered by the crowd. It's always disgusting this time of day. People all over the place."

"Imagine that. People, out in public. Living their lives. Existing in the world! Quite unfair of them, really."

Albus came to a stop in front of a wall. There was a mirror pinned to it, long and so narrow that it likely only catered to very vain stick insects. But beside the mirror was a set of pegs, and hanging from each one was a selection of coats and jackets. The most eye-catching one was a foul orange colour, like spiced cheese that had melted and been forced into a sleeve-encumbered mould. He picked that one up first and thrust it at Scorpius, not bothering to hide his smirk.

"There," he said. "That should suit you."

"I think there might be a smidgeon of evil in you," Scorpius mused, as he examined the jacket. "There certainly is at least a smidgeon of evil in this jacket. You can't actually expect me to buy this, can you?"

"At least try it on."

"Evil," Scorpius said again. But he obligingly dropped his leather satchel and shrugged on the jacket, grimacing at the texture. "Merlin. It's like wearing a hard-boiled yolk."

He didn't not look like a hard-boiled yolk, in fairness. Especially with such pale skin and hair. Albus suppressed a laugh, catching the shrewd eye of the woman behind the counter, sorting through plastic jewellery. He spun his finger in the air.

"Do a twirl," he said. "I want to see the full effect."

"You can take that finger and stick it…" Scorpius muttered, trailing off as he spun reluctantly. "This is because I wouldn't let you buy that alchemical set, isn't it?"

"The case alone had more magical energy in it than anything we own. More magical fingerprints than anything in your dad's mansion, even!"

"It's a manor," Scorpius said primly, as he slipped off the jacket. "Not a mansion. There's an architectural difference."

Albus snorted, and snatched another coat off the hanger, shoving it into Scorpius's arms.

"Next one," he said. "If you don't find one you like, you can have Teddy's old coat. The one that Hugo ruined on that expedition. It's stuffed in our cupboard somewhere, and I'm sure it wouldn't mind a new owner."

It was in the cupboard because it was so hazardous to everyone's health and eyesight that it wasn't allowed out of the dark. It was in their cupboard because Albus hoarded hazardous potion materials anyway, and he was deemed the least likely to suffer some strange growth or lesion.

Scorpius grimaced, recognising the threat for what it was, and tugged the coat over his shoulders.

There were only a handful of coats and jackets. Several looked like they might disintegrate at the barest touch, but some really weren't that bad, in all honesty. There was a bright red rain-mac, and a few plaid shackets that looked like they'd seen better days. There was a coat that still had the label on, but which boasted far too many tassels to be appealing. Scorpius took a liking to a long, slim grey coat, and didn't even seem to mind the holes in the pockets; those were an easy fix with a bit of magic. Albus tried not to blush when he put on a faux-leather jacket for the fun of it; it didn't really suit Scorpius, but the slightly daring edge was new and intriguing, to say the least.

"Maybe I'll table it for another time," Scorpius said, raising his arms and admiring the leather in the mirror. "How about for my birthday?"

Albus coughed and looked away. "I could probably stretch to fancy leather, if you're nice to me."

He didn't see the smile that followed, or the fond look of mischief aimed his way, but he heard the chuckle, and felt the kiss to his cheek. He grumbled a bit, putting the coats back on the pegs.

"Was that so bad?" Albus asked, when they stepped out onto the chilly street.

"I didn't say it was going to be bad!"

"Yeah, but you had that look on your face. When you desperately want to pretend you're not as snobby as you actually are, you look like this." Albus made a crinkled, pained expression, pursing his lips. "It's hilarious."

"You're very much not hilarious," Scorpius muttered, flushing. "But I have to admit, I'm actually a bit surprised we found something. You could do a lot with charity shop clothes, couldn't you? They're all so cheap, we could buy a whole bunch and fix them up and give them to relatives, or people in need. It wouldn't take much to change the sizes or dye the fabric, or fix any holes or rips."

Scorpius came to a pause on the pavement, not far from their crossing. One look at his face, and Albus knew he'd bitten off more than he could chew. A faint feeling of dread took over.

"Oh Merlin," Albus said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "We came out here for a coat, not a new project."

"It's not a project! It's just an idea!"

"That's what you said about glass-blowing, and flower-arranging, and your shoe-making endeavour," Albus said patiently. "Tell me how many little leather hammers are stuffed in a drawer in your room, huh? And what about all the dried weeds in our garden that you accidentally made ever-lasting and then got bored with?"

Scorpius looked at him beseechingly. His new coat was thrown over his shoulder, waiting to be cleaned before he wore it properly. He was standing right in the way of anyone who might want to pass, and he looked seconds from getting down on his knees and begging. Albus tried to be annoyed that he'd just given up his whole day to scouring charity shops, of all things—not to mention the havoc this was going to wreak on their storage space. But he couldn't. He couldn't be annoyed, not when there was something he could do to make Scorpius happy.

"There's another charity shop down the street that has more clothes," Albus offered, sighing. "I'm not carrying any bags."

Scorpius cheered, leaping towards him. He spun Albus around in a giddy circle, kissing him clumsily. Albus spluttered, too surprised to really protest.

"I'll stick to a budget," Scorpius promised him. "We'll make Christmas gifts out of everything we buy! You won't regret this."

"I already do," Albus complained, but he let himself be tugged down the street by his wrist anyway, if only so he could smile where Scorpius couldn't see him.

[Word Count: 1260]