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Hearing a familiar voice calling his name as he left the apothecary was enough to make Arthur jump with nerves and sigh at himself. Despite all the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, Diagon Alley had been quieter than usual. Still, it had hardly been emptied by recent events, certainly not so much that running into a friend should have been a shock. At least, not yet it hadn’t - though Arthur had been trying to be quick about his errands, like so many others appeared to be doing.
“Not going into the office today, Arthur?”
“Not today, Amelia. Just picking up a few things for Molly. She had to go visit her family today so I’ve got our lad with me,” Arthur said cheerfully, bouncing William in his arms until he burbled happily at them. “Didn’t want to take him to the Ministry what with… well, you know. Things have been a bit tense lately.”
Amelia didn’t ask him to clarify, just nodded wisely as she bent forward to politely inspect his son. “I haven’t seen one of these infant costumes in some time now. That is last years Stargazer costume, yes?”
“Good spotting!” Arthur cried, beaming and nodding wildly. “You have a good eye, a very good eye indeed. Apparently the Muggles managed to get a funny sort of flying carpet up high into the sky to look at the stars while wearing these outfits. Not sure precisely why they did it, but it all sounded rather extraordinary. I bought this while Molly was pregnant, thought it might be just the thing for when this little one arrived.”
Humming agreeably, Amelia gave William’s belly one last tickle before she straightened up. “Such a shame they seem to have stopped selling the children’s costumes this year. I’d been thinking I should gift some for Christmas but it seems I’ve missed my chance. It does suit him very well though, it’s a good thing you thought to buy him one so early.”
Chuffed by the compliment, Arthur beamed as they exchanged more brief small talk before making their farewells. It didn’t do to linger in the alley these days. Not even when there was a particularly beautiful baby about, if Arthur did say so himself.
As he pulled his son closer and headed for the nearest apparition point, Arthur couldn’t help thinking over what Amelia had said. William did look very cute in his little outfit but he would be outgrowing it before long, and it was true that the larger lines weren’t in the shops anymore. There were only so far charms could stretch newborn clothing, too.
It was so nice to have something to smile about, though. Particularly for Molly. It had been a long year for both of them, what with worrying about the baby coming on top of everything else, but she’d been smiling when he’d bought this particular purchase home even if she had huffed at him that it was a silly looking thing.
Perhaps it had been a bit extravagant but William was their first and Arthur thought that was worth a little indulgence. There must be an easier way to get his hands on some Muggle things though. Muggles had children as well, after all, and they had to dress them in something. There was really no reason why little William couldn’t play dress up right through his toddler years. The clothes would fit right in beside the usual centaur and ghoul costumes they already had packed away and waiting for him, if Arthur could just figure out where to find some….
*
“Come on, Charlie,” Bill said, nodding his head towards the stairs as soon as their parents were distracted. The sound of another explosion and children giggling drifted in through the door Molly and Arthur had left open when they'd run into the garden after the twins. “Time for us to see how Percy is getting along with everything.”
When they peeked into their brother’s room, they weren’t very surprised to find the entire contents of his chest of drawers and wardrobe had been emptied onto the bed and sorted into neat piles by colour and type. All of his school supplies had been crammed into a narrow pile on top of his pillow and his new trunk was sitting in the corner. It was still totally empty with the lid hanging open as he unfolded and refolded various bits of clothing indecisively.
“Careful there, mate. You might lose something in this mess,” Charlie said with a wry chuckle as he stepped over the three rows of shoes lined up neatly in the doorway. Frowning, he paused long enough to nudge at a familiar looking pair with his toe. “Wait, hang on, are these-”
“You never take your nice shoes to school and you’ve very nearly outgrown those already anyway. Mum will be giving them to me as soon as I go up another shoe size,” Percy interrupted him with a sniff, not even bothering to look up from his folding. “And I might have a growth spurt before Christmas. I’ve been very hungry lately and I heard that can be a sign.”
He had a red tunic dress in one hand and he was frowning at an old pair of badly mended yellow flared trousers draped across the end of the bed as he spoke, the only thing not already allocated to a pile. Occasionally he held the tunic out against it, as if comparing the colours, before shaking his head and running his fingers down a pile of clothes as if considering other options, which Bill and Charlie could certainly understand. The yellow trousers did have a faintly lime-green tinge to them that clashed horribly with the red.
Bill snorted. “He’s got you there, Charlie. All you do is stomp around near the forest in galoshes these days, anyway.”
Leaning against a wall, Charlie shrugged. “Right-o. You’re welcome to ‘em if you want, as long as you promise not to wear those together, yeah?”
That finally encouraged Percy to look over at them. He just frowned at them silently, his brow creasing above his carefully polished, brand new glasses.
“We’re not having a laugh, Perce,” Bill said in a conciliatory tone as he picked his way across the room as well. “Just trying to help. It’s a nice tunic but it doesn’t really go with those trousers, that’s all.”
“But they’re Gryffindor colours and I want to be in Gryffindor, like you and Mum and Dad,” Percy said, his mouth turning even further down at the corners.
“Yeah, but the Muggleborns will make fun. That’s not how they’d wear it, that’s all. Best leave one of them at home if you’re struggling to fit everything in,” Charlie said.
“Dad said that these are all good examples of casual Muggle clothes,” Percy insisted, sounding more frustrated by the second. His knuckles had started to turn white where he was gripping the tunic. “And I know they go well together because Dad told me they did. I double checked everything with him before I put it on the bed. He does work with Muggles sometimes, you know, and I do have a system.”
“Alright, alright,” Bill said, holding his hands up. “You’re all grown up now and you can take whatever you like to school. It’s just-”
Breaking his sentence off with a sigh, Bill moved close enough to sling an arm around Percy’s shoulders and tug him close. Ruffling his brother’s hair, he tried to start over.
“People made fun of me a bit in first year Perce, ‘cause what Dad had told me about Muggle clothes wasn’t always quite right. I don’t want that for you lot so I helped Charlie pick out his clothes for his first year and I thought we could help you pick things out as well if you want. And if what you really want is to pack the tunic and trousers, then that’s what we’ll help you pack.”
Behind him Charlie sighed as he pushed off the wall and moved to join them. “‘Course we will. I’ve even got another pair of nice shoes lying around somewhere that you’re probably about to grow into if you’d like to take them, too.”
Percy’s face was still screwed up but he relaxed enough to let Bill tug the tunic out of his hands and place it into the trunk.
“Right, what goes in next?” Charlie asked, and bit by bit they managed to fill the trunk together.
As they slipped down the stairs for dinner later though, Bill paused on the landing long enough to hiss in Charlie’s ear. “Make some spare space in your trunk, yeah? I’ll grab a few more of his fancier things when he’s distracted, he likes those. We can split ‘em up between us and that way he’ll have plenty of choices if he changes his mind about those awful trousers.”
*
Angelina let Fred spin her round and round the dance floor until all the fancy decorations blurred and she was feeling dizzy, and then she let him spin her around some more. It had been a lovely night, full of laughter and dancing. Even better than she’d thought the Yule Ball might be when Fred had first asked her.
“You know, your robes don’t look half bad,” she said idly as they danced. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, not after we all had to listen to your little brother wailing about his awful robes in the common room.”
Fred smirked and shrugged one shoulder lazily. “What can I say? Mum sent us horrible stuff as well but Forge and I possess a wide range of talents. Ickle Ronnikins just didn’t trust us to do anything interesting with his.”
Angelina just shook her head with a fond smile, tugging a little at Fred’s shoulder to angle them both away from a passing Beauxbatons couple so they wouldn’t collide.
“Don’t you believe me?” he asked, still smirking.
“Oh, I believe you,” Angelina admitted. “I’m just surprised you weren’t offering to alter people’s dress robes to make a few more galleons for that shop you’re planning, if you are that good. Maybe you should go into selling Muggle inspired fashion instead of jokes. It’s such a pain trying to find comfortable clothes in Diagon Alley that you’d probably make a fortune.”
Fred let out a bark of laughter at that, loud enough to startle her. “Never in a million years,” he said, still laughing.
“Something wrong with making clothes for a living?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Not at all, dear Angelina, not at all,” he said before dipping her. She didn’t even shriek this time, after having been dipped suddenly and at random all night. “It’s just that most of our clothes are things Dad nicked from the unclaimed artefact storage locker at work. It’s a nightmare trying to sell anything new other than robes if they’ve been altered by magic, the Ministry still enforces all these old regulations that are absolutely ridiculous. We’d be so tied up with red tape that we’d never turn a profit.”
“It can’t be that bad, you think all rules are ridiculous,” Angelina pointed out with a laugh once she was back on her feet.
“No, really. I swear, half of Dad’s complaints are about not having enough staff in the department to pro-actively search all the Muggle secondhand clothing shops,” Fred said as he pulled her close, his voice lowering to a murmur. “Apparently when we were little he noticed that people were charming all sorts of clothes themselves without knowing they weren't meant to and now there's heaps of stuff out there that’s nearly impossible to track down.”
Angelina shivered as his breath brushed her ear. "Perhaps that's why they still keep the old rules, then."
“Yeah, maybe. Of course, if Dad could go search all the shops himself he’d be thrilled about it but he's only allowed to do it once a month and that still takes him ages. Even something as basic as a recolouring charm isn’t allowed. We wouldn’t have half the stuff we do if Mum wasn’t dead brilliant at unweaving charmwork from fabric,” he continued, slowing their dancing to a sway and holding her close.
"Huh. Well, whatever you did, it suits you," she said, tugging at his collar with a smile.
"I do look very handsome," he agreed loudly before twirling her and raising their joined hands to his lips, grinning when she giggled. "Though certainly not nearly as beautiful as you."