2. Clock

Little lanky Harry found himself bored. This wasn't too odd for the child. When one only had spiders and cobwebs for company, they find themselves growing mentally dull. He pushed up his too large glasses to peer through the cracks of the cupboard.

For the sake of their normality, his supposed family had decided that it was best that he made the cupboard underneath the stairs his room. For security reasons, the door was also locked. They wouldn't like him to walk around without their supervision after all.

Across the hallway was a lone tacky purple clock. "12:00 Am, happy birthday to me." He mumbled. It didn't bother him too much. The Dursleys never celebrated his birthday. The best he could hope for would be no chores and maybe a missing sock.

A minute past midnight, a figure made its way to the cupboard. Harry took some shaky steps backwards as the door opened. Thankfully, it was only the pale lady, with a look of exasperation.

"The silliness people get into, as if a cupboard would really change anything", he heard her say. She looked him in the eyes and smiled as she crouched down a bit. "Happy 11th birthday, Harry Potter. Do you mind if I come in?"

Nodding dumbly, he backed up so that she could take a seat on his raggedy bed. Shame flooded Harry. Now that she was in the room, he saw just how bad his things were. It was fine for his uses, but the pale lady must've been used to nice things.

"Home is what we make of it, little one. Though I don't think this house has it at all", she consoled.

"I know." He really did. If his parents were alive, he would never set foot in this house again. A thought hit and he scampered off the bed. Looking around, he found what he was looking for. It was a lukewarm container that he had swiped earlier today. Beside it, he grabbed two old, but clean, cups he stored underneath paper towels. "Would you like some tea?"

He passed her a cup and carefully poured the liquid inside. Next, he poured himself a cup. She drank elegantly and nodded in thanks. "Our own little tea party, you gentleman you?"

"Girls like tea parties, right?" Harry questioned shyly.

"I find that I do. But before I forget."

From within a satchel, she removed a box with black wrapping and grey ribbons. "For you, my little friend."

Giddy, he said his thanks and he ripped the package and widened his eyes. It was a thick black book with some odd script and a pair of black leather gloves. They were cool to the touch. Leaving the book for now, he took the gloves and they were a perfect fit.

"I haven't been a child for a long time, but I thought you might like it. The gloves match mine." She rested her chin on top of her hands.

Harry's face risked splitting from the size of his smile. Already this birthday was the best thing ever. He couldn't figure out how this could've been better.