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Some muggle child in aisle 7 calls you ‘dad’ by mistake. He says, “Hey dad, can you reach the grape juice for me? The glass one on the top shelf?”

The boy is a short little thing—standing on his tiptoes and not looking at you at all, really. His real father is farther down the aisle, chatting up some muggle lady.

And Teddy turns seven today. Potter says he’s baking a cake, but he’s out of cocoa powder. Cocoa powder is in aisle 8. When you turned seven, Father said, “Make me proud, Draco”, and Dobby said he loved you.

Potter doesn’t know how to bake, and he doesn’t like recipes much, either. He says that recipes make it less fun.

In aisle 8, you find many different brands of cocoa powder. Potter’s given you some muggle money to buy it. Potter has a lot of money—all types—but he doesn’t seem to care about that at all.

When you were a boy, you loved to draw. You stole your mother’s best quill and ink, and you drew all over your arm. It was good ink; special stuff that stuck to your skin for a long time. The serpents were easy, the skulls more difficult. But you were good at them all.

The muggle girl at checkout says she likes your tattoo.