Look for Me Down the Street
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A/N: Hey guys, this is my first multi-chaptered fic. I've been afraid to post it because I don't want to leave you guys hanging, so I've made sure to write a bit ahead so that I have something. That being said, it still needs to be typed, so expect an update every week to 2 weeks. I really hope you enjoy this! And let me know what you think. Thanks, Silv3rRain. (Oh! And still beta-less, so any mistakes are mine.)
Chapter 1: Telling Secrets
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He watched as the young blonde boy made his way down the cobbled street, kicking at pebbles and grumbling to himself. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and his attention was focused on the ground in front of him, ignoring the rest of the world. As he came closer, Harry began to make out what he was saying, "Stupid father! I don't see why I couldn't have it. It's not fair," the child looked around, finally becoming aware of his surroundings, panic settling across his features as he realized he was lost. Harry watched as the boy frowned and appeared to focus on his frustration instead, ignoring the situation, "It's all his fault anyway."
Harry stepped off the wall, hoping to help before the child got really lost, the last thing he needed was to end up in Knockturn Alley alone, "Hey, you're looking a little lost there. Did you need some help?"
The blonde snapped his head up in shock before replacing the surprise with a look of cool indifference, a face of practiced upper-class, "I am not lost! I'm simply taking a leisurely stroll away from my father."
"Right. And I'm sure it's your plan to walk into Knockturn Alley by yourself, isn't it?"
Harry watched as the boy swallowed, a subtle display of nervousness, "Well- You know-," the little blonde stumbled over his words before collecting himself together, sticking his chin up, "My father says I shouldn't talk to strangers, no matter what they look like," he finished, looking at Harry up and down, accessing his clothing choice.
"Your father's a smart man, and you seem to be too. But if you're listening to his advice, are you supposed to be walking by yourself?"
"Well, no, but my father is being mean, so I think I'm old enough to make my own decisions. It's his fault. All I wanted was the newest broom model, and he won't buy it for me. It's all terribly unfair. He's so mean. I need that broom to be better than the rest of the kids when I go off to Hogwarts. If I don't get that broom now, how will I have any hope to beating the others? He doesn't understand that I need to practice so I can be a seeker just like him! Everyone else is getting that broom, and so I need to too! You must see why I need that broom, right? He can be just so unfair some of the time! I need that broom!"
Harry chuckled internally, the boy's predicament so trivial, but so tragic in the eyes of a young child. Allowing the boy to be caught up in the discussion of the broom, Harry pressed further, "But why must he be the one to buy it for you?"
"Because he's my father, of course," the boy spoke as if it was the most obvious answer, "He's supposed to keep me happy and buy me things I want."
"But what about your father? When was the last time you made him happy? What about buying him a gift?"
The boy's cool expression faltered, "I never thought about that before," his face turned to puzzlement, "But still, why doesn't he buy me the broom anyway? I haven't been bad and haven't done anything wrong."
Harry shrugged his shoulders, trying to show sympathy for the nearly spoiled child, who innocence was charming, "Maybe he can't afford the broom?"
The boy's chin stuck farther into the air again, "Puh-lease. My father's one of the richest men in the whole world."
Harry shook his head and knelt down to the boy's level, intent on hopefully teaching the boy a lesson, "Well, sometimes, parents want to show their love without buying it. I'm thinking your father is trying to show you that he can love you without buying you fancy gifts to prove it. I'm sure that he is just worried about spoiling you. Life doesn't always work out the way you want it to, sometimes you have to make an effort and work hard for the things you want. When was the last time you helped your father with something difficult, or done your chores?"
The boy shrugged and shuffled his feet, the realization of the situation dawning on him, "I don't know. I suppose that makes sense," the boy's head lifted up, a pout marring his smooth features, upset at having his world turned on its side, attempting to find a way to negate the information that was just told to him, "Wait, but who are you to tell me what to do? Why should I listen to you?"
Harry chuckled out loud this time, a smile on his lips as he looked left and right over the empty street before quieting down to look at the boy with a serious expression. He whispered to the boy, "I'm going to tell you a secret, but you have to promise not to tell anyone."
The boy's eyes lit up at the word 'secret' and he nodded his head, whispering a rushed, "I promise!"
Harry took one last look around the street to see if anyone was watching, "I'm Harry Potter," he announced as he pushed aside his unruly hair to reveal his scar.
The little blonde's silver eyes widened enormously as he stared at the lighting-bolt, reaching out with a shaky hand to touch it before snatching his hand back as he did, "Mr.-Mr.-Mr. Harry Potter, sir-, sir. I'm sorry for doubting you."
Harry held his hands up with his palms out, "Please, just call me Harry," the boy nodded, still in awe, "And as I was saying, you can't take things for granted. I'll tell you another secret, that you can't tell anyone. When I was your age, I didn't even know what a racing broom was along with Quidditch, let alone the existence of magic," Harry's eyes hardened the slightest at the memories that flooded his mind, "I lived in a small cupboard underneath a set of stairs. I would barely just fit in there today, that's how small it was. So you have to understand that even if your father is rich, you can't always have everything. There are many other little witches and wizards just like yourself that are a lot less fortunate than you."
The boy nodded heavily at the words and told Harry, "Yes, of course Mr. Harry, sir, I'll always remember that! In fact, I'll even try and help them out! I'll make sure that I teach them all the little tricks that my father taught me."
"Please, just Harry. And thank you, I'm sure your help will be wonderful, and I'm positive you'll grow up to be a fine, young man."
"Yes, Harry, I'll do my best for you!"
"You should also try hard for your father, as well, he seems to care a lot about you, and with good reason."
The boy once again bounced his head up and down, "Oh! You showed a secret, so I'll show you one of mine too! Father says I shouldn't do this in public yet, but you're Harry Potter!"
The boy scrunched his face in deep concentration while Harry watched in fascination as his grey eyes turned to a vibrant green that matched Harry's own. Something clicked in Harry's memory, and as realization dawned on him, his eyes widened in shock. A figure stepped up to the pair, a gave a breath of relief, "Teddy."
Harry looked up at the figure, making eye contact with him, recognition present in both pair of eyes, and stated, "Draco Malfoy."
Teddy smiled broadly, exclaiming, "Father, it's Harry Potter," before clamping a hand over his mouth at his mistake with wide eyes.