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The only thing I didn't like about Harry's mother was the petty thievery.  There was no question of mentioning it to Harry.  I knew that if I ever did his reaction would be blank incomprehension, as if I was speaking utter nonsense.  Harry's mother was a gas woman generally; friendly, full of chat and a good cook.  She had a warm, heartfelt contralto and the compassionate practicality (or practical compassion?) of some older women.  At first, I wondered if she was a kleptomaniac but once I began cataloguing the missing items I suspected her of taking I decided that the only thing relegating her to the small time was a lack of handy open bank vaults. She only took items that were either money-valuable or valuable to the person who owned it.  The saleable items I suspect she sold and the others were hoarded in a little cupboard under the stairs in her house.  I know because I looked.

It was only when I caught her in the act of lifting a nice gold pen belonging to a friend of Harry's that I realised I had suspected her all along.  I also realised that everyone else knew.  Someone would start to curse the loss of some object, quickly relax and appear to forget all about it.  The subject would abruptly change as if someone had just remembered their manners.  Later, whatever was missing would turn up in plain sight.  Lost objects do just turn up of course but I noticed that they would invariably reappear if Harry's mother was around when they were missed.  Or Harry.