Disclaimer: I'm just making sand castles on someone else's beach.
Story for Rue-the-Marauder's AU challenge
Deadline April 1st
.
.
The Leaky Cauldron
.
.
He was late.
He was so late.
George would kill him.
They had planned to meet today in London. George was moving to the continent soon and this would be one of the few times they would get a chance to talk. Harry would miss him; they had been close friends ever since Harry had been eleven. So close, that George's parents considered Harry to be family.
They were a boon in his unhappy life filled with the Dursleys –in fact, if it wasn't for George's parents, Harry wasn't sure how he would have survived his school years. The summers happened to be particularly bad; Dudley's fluxing diets would often insure that Harry wouldn't get enough to eat.
George McClain and his parents were a Godsend.
Turning the corner and arriving on the street featuring the little café that Harry had visited with George years ago; Harry tripped onto the ice and snow covered sidewalk when he miss-stepped onto the curb.
"Urghh!" he shouted in surprise when he slid across the ice, ripping a new hole in his old worn jeans. Looks like he'd have to ask Mrs. McClain to patch it later; if they ended up visiting George's parents. Harry was quite shoddy at sewing, even though he had been forced to do it often over the years.
Harry sighed as he wiped his scrapped up hands on his thighs before attempting to stand up.
He was lucky his hands were already bandaged. When he had punched Dudley in his fat face a day ago, he hadn't realized that impact with the tubby monster's body would break or bruise his knuckles when the fight had escalated. God, if Dudley was likened to a super hero character he would have been the Blob.
Too bad Dudley had not gone down in the first hit. Harry examined the bandages wrapped around his swelling knuckles; good- the wraps had not suffered much damage.
The bandages did a poor job of keeping his hands warm. Harry looked at the bright side and hoped the chill around him would help reduce the swelling.
His threadbare scarf had fallen from his neck and was whipped up in the wind to where it had deposited on the doorstep of a very grungy looking pub. Harry adjusted his glasses and read the sign.
'The Leaky Cauldron, huh. Sounds like some kind of Renaissance-y, Ye Olde Fashioned Shoppe. I wonder if you need to be in costume to be allowed in.'
Harry got up and retrieved his scarf, wrapping it tightly around his neck and most of his lower face. He looked around quickly before fiddling with his glasses; a nervous tick that had always allowed George to beat him at the card games. George dominated most games they played in the boy's dorm of the boarding school they both attended. Though Harry seemed to have a talent for anything involving hand-eye coordination.
Harry's head darted forward and pushed the door open a smidge, just to take a peek inside.
Amongst the dusty, dark interior, groups of people dressed in long black capes... no. They wore robes and many kinds of strange hats. The robe wearers- cosplayers? spoke animatedly.
He could hear a particularly loud group, filled with a large amount of red heads situated by the door. It was rare that a whole family seemed to fantasy role-play.
Harry shrugged. If his parents had survived the crash, he'd like to think that at least his father would have played Doom.
"…Is Remus coming? I know last night was the full moon, he may not have recovered from the damage he did to himself as a werewolf."
"Shhhhussh! Don't talk about that! you know he's evaded the werewolf patrols so far. If they pick him up because YOU were too loud, we'd be one more Order member down. At this point we need everyone!"
"..."
"You know how he is. He may or may not. Remus still doesn't believe He's gone you know. He still has hope Harry will be found, and that he can save us from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named again."
Harry closed the door and rubbed the scar hidden under his bangs. He had gotten it in the wreck that had killed his parents. Rubbing it was another tell that George liked to pick on him about. Harry suspected that it was really the reflection in his spectacles of his card hand that caused him to lose so often. Harry preferred LARPing and Role Playing Games. Perhaps he could be that 'Harry' they were looking for; it'd be easy for him, he loved Sci-fi and fantasy stories. As long as he didn't need to play card games, he'd have a lot of fun.
And he already had the right name. Harry smiled under his scarf. Wouldn't George be jealous -A possible role in a game was already waiting just for him to reach out and grasp it. Too bad he wasn't dressed up correctly for the game.
He left the doorstep and continued to bustle his way down the street. The cold winter breeze whipped up powdery snow from the ground, dispersing it into the air. Too bad it happened to make the air colder; Harry wasn't wearing the appropriate outdoor clothes as it was.
Out of an alley, a shabbily dressed man, much like Harry himself was, crashed into him. The both fell to the icy sidewalk.
"I am so sorry! Pardon me! I'm late to a meeting. Here let me help you up," the mouse-haired man explained quickly, his gruesomely scratched up face starting to bleed a bit. The cuts looked to be at least a few days old. Harry wondered if he had stuck his head in a bag full of angry cats.
The man's eyes were an eerie amber; you didn't see that color in most city folk. He must be from the countryside.
Harry grabbed the man's out stretched hand, and was levered up from the ground with incredible speed. The guy must have been hiding muscles in his bones or something; to still look that thin and lanky.
"'Beg pardon, but I must be going!" the man nodded and strode down the street that Harry had come from.
"Harry! What are you doing over there?" An excited voice called out, as a stocky blond-haired boy exited the café a couple of doors down.
Harry lowered his scarf to his neck and replied while smiling happily, "Just getting into tussles with the local pavement! I swear it knows I'm not from around here!"
"Well then Potter, get your caboose in here! I'd like to see my best mate before I visit Germany with the student exchange program! I must be barmy, I don't know a lick of German; other than how to say 'gummy bears'. Brrrr! It's so bloody cold! Meet you inside!" the sixteen-year-old shouted as he ducked back inside the warm café.
Harry laughed loudly before he rubbed his hands together as he made his way to the café. George had always been so exuberant and loud, Harry was thankful they had met and that they happened to be the same age. He couldn't have found a better friend.
He raised his encircled palms to his face and blew lightly in the concealed area, creating a small warm flame between his two palms. It was a talent he had never told anyone about.
The lightly glowing yellow flame danced between his bandaged up hands feeling like an application of IcyHot. The heat soaked into his hands and relieved a majority of pain; it left his hands feeling a bit tingly.
He might have gotten in a fight with Dudley again, but at least this time he gave as good as he had gotten.
Unfortunately, it had made him a bit homeless for the week before school started up again. It being Winter Break and all.
Harry paused on the threshold of the café and paused when the hairs on the back of his neck pricked up. Someone was watching him. He folded his palms inward and the the flame extinguished. Harry calmly lowered his hands to his sides. Quickly, he whipped his body around and clutched at the wall of the building. There, standing with the door held open to that cool little fantasy pub, was the man that had bumped into Harry earlier. Th man gazed at him with an unreadable face. Happy? Surprised? Constipated?
He did have some pretty cool contacts though. From where Harry stood, they looked like they were glowing gold. It was a sweet effect.
Harry shrugged and waved before he walked through the café doorway.
The man seemed pretty harmless; for all that he was ripped like a cougar.
'I need to tell George about that pub, it would be terribly fun to visit together before he needs to leave! I think I'll dress as a paladin, George can be a mage for distance fighting!'
Harry smiled as he located George who was beckoning him over to a booth.
He'd definitely need to check out the Leaky Cauldron some day.
.
.
So this was just a sudden plot idea that wouldn't stop bugging me after I saw the AU challenge. It Has some potential to develop into into a full story; I will make it that way later. Or I might just use this as a prologue and write the main story under a separate title.
Added note: As the feedback I have gotten on this story have asked for it to be continued; I've decided to move it up and post chapter Two by April 5th. So even though it is marked as complete (as of 3/27) it isn't finished just yet. I'll change it back to incomplete when that error thing gets fixed. Unless it happens to be finished by then. :)