A/N: So in the same vein as the other stories I've been posting, I'm re editing and reposting old stories that have been around forever. This is actually the only such story that I've technically finished, and I think it was my "most popular," which didn't really amount to much, but I guess that's beside the point. This was also my first story, so it also has a special place in my heart. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, or if you happen to have read it once before, you can enjoy it again. :)
Of the Street
Chapter 1
Harry curled up under the ratty blanket, desperately trying to keep warm. It was by sheer luck that he had not frozen to death; of course in Harry's case, he may have been luckier to die. He pulled his knees closer to his chest and tried to cover his feet. He gave up and stretched his legs out. He accidentally pushed his foot against a nail and yelped in pain. He maneuvered himself into a sitting position, being careful not to stab himself on another nail or hit his head on the low ceiling of the cupboard. The wound had started to bleed, so Harry took the little blanket he had, ripped off a piece and bandaged his foot. Now with less cover than he had before, he curled up tighter, tucking his arms into Dudley's night shirt to make up for the loss of some of the sheet. It was rather ineffective, however, because it was nearly too old and too small to be very warming. But he had to make good with what he was given, which was rarely much and never enough. After getting as comfortable as was possible in his situation, he laid his head down on the hard, wooden floor, he wasn't allowed the luxury of a pillow, and fell asleep.
A few hours later, there came a banging on the cupboard door. "Wake up! It's time for breakfast and if I don't find food on my plate in five minutes, you'll be getting a beating." Vernon's gruff voice yelled out as his noisy footfalls silenced as he walked into the kitchen.
"Like you'd die from hunger if you didn't eat this very minute." Harry muttered under his breath. He quickly threw his blanket off of him and then saw the piece of sheet wrapped around his foot. He untied it and examined his wound. Although it had already scabbed over, it was tender, and the skin around it had turned a sickly yellow. He opened the door and was beginning to crawl out, when his cousin thundered down the hall and slammed the door in his face, narrowly crushing his hand. "Argh!" He exclaimed in frustration. Again he opened the door and crawled out of his cupboard. As he stood upright, a pain shot through his foot and he nearly fell. He hobbled through the kitchen door and set to work on breakfast.
Harry started serving when Vernon noticed his awkward walk. "Boy, why are you limping." He asked him just before stuffing porridge into his mouth.
"Nothing Uncle Vernon, I just pricked my foot on a nail in my cupboard." Harry answered as he hobbled back over to the stove.
"Oh my goodness." Petunia cried, jumping to her feet. "How bad was it?"
"It wasn't that bad. It only bled a little." Harry said, wondering why she cared.
"WHAT! You were bleeding and you didn't tell us." Petunia cried, and then she pointed her finger at her nephew, "Did you get any blood on my floors?"
He knew there was no way that she would actually care about his well-being. "No, it happened last night, there's blood on my blanket, but that's it."
"Good, good, well you should be more careful, Vernon will have a belt to your backside if I find blood on my precious hardwoods."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry tended to breakfast again, the sausage was almost burnt, and so he quickly plated it and put it on the table. "May I eat now?"
"Fine, fine, eat your spoonful of porridge and then clean up this mess." Vernon said. At that moment, there was a knock at the door. "Dudley, get the door."
"Make Harry get the door." Dudley whined. "What good is he if he never does anything?"
Harry rolled his eyes at Dudley's comment; he was headed towards the door when Vernon yelled, "STOP! Dudley, get the door. If anyone important is at the door, I don't want them greeted by him." Dudley grumbled as he got up. When he returned he was holding a letter. "What you got there?"
"Telegram." He grunted. "Here."
"Well let me see." As he read the telegram, his face lit up. "My boss is coming for dinner tonight. He wants to talk to me about a big promotion. We need to go to market and get a nice big turkey, some potatoes, vegetables and a pie. I need to impress Mr. Weasley. This promotion could give us the high-life.
"Oh honey, that's wonderful. Hear that Dudley, we could get you a brand new bicycle and Harry, you can start cleaning; this place needs to be spotless." Petunia said. "We'll be back at 3:00, so this place better be clean by then or…"
"Or I'll get a beating." Harry finished. "I'll be right on it." Harry cleared the table and waited for the Dursleys to leave. "Thank God." The moment they stepped out the door, he took the food he hid and began to eat, savoring what little food he had. After it was finished he started on the endless housework and hoped the time would go by fast.
"Mrs. Dursley, the meal was delicious." Arthur Weasley complimented. "You have such a nice home."
"Why thank you, Mr. Weasley." Petunia said.
"Vernon, you have such a lovely family. You're such a hard worker, and this dinner has just been icing on the cake. I can't see any reason why I wouldn't give you the promotion."
"Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Weasley. Would you care for some pie? It's blueberry." Vernon offered.
"Oh, no, thank you, I need to be heading home. I have a family of my own that I need to spend some time with." He said.
"Well, let me cut you a piece and send it with you." Petunia said as she headed into the kitchen.
"If you insist."
"We do." Vernon said. "Let me walk you to the door; you'll have to come back another day, and have some pie and coffee."
"That'd be delightful."
"Here you go, Arthur, one slice of blueberry pie."
"Thank you Mrs. Dursley. I'll see you at work on Monday, Vernon. Thank you again for hav…what was that sound?" He heard a rustling; it was Harry in his cupboard. "It came from in here."
"No, don't look in there, it could be a, a, a rat." Petunia pleaded. Vernon and Petunia stood frozen. As Arthur opened the door, they had held their breath and hoped for the best.
"What in the world is this?" Arthur asked.
"Our servant boy." Vernon said hesitantly.
"This is how you treat your servants?" Arthur asked. "He's just a boy, and so thin, do you even feed him?"
"Of course we do, we're not monsters." Petunia said.
"Well, I won't allow this, not from one of my employees." Arthur said.
"Please, no, don't take away my promotion. What if I give you the boy? You can treat him better than us, you have more resources, and I'm sure you could use a servant; he's very well-behaved and a very hard worker." Vernon begged. He was kicking himself for not doing something about the boy earlier.
"Yes, I'd be glad to take him from you; he deserves to be in a family that cares. Here, 100 pounds for your troubles. What's your name, lad?"
"Harry, sir, Harry Potter." He replied.
"Come along Harry, I'll be sure that you don't have to go through anything this bad again." Arthur said.
"Thank you, sir"
"There's a carriage right outside, gather your things and I'll bring you to my home."
"I don't have anything, sir." Harry said.
"That's fine, for now, I have a son about your age, you can share some of his clothes. Come along, it's time to get you to a proper home." As he led Harry out the door, he turned and made one last statement. "Vernon, I suggest you make good use of those 100 pounds. It'll have to last until you can get back on your feet. You're fired."
Harry could only catch a glimpse of the Dursley's faces as the door shut behind him. Vernon's face had turned aubergine in anger, Petunia was weeping as she realized her family would be poor within months, and Dursley stood mouth agape at the way this man had just treated his father.
Harry choked back a laugh. Of course, he couldn't laugh at the Dursleys in the past, but now he was free. He tried to laugh, but was embarrassed by the sound that came out.
Arthur escorted Harry into his horse-drawn carriage. Harry had never been in one such as this, or rather, he had never been in one at all. He had seen many that arrived to transport the Dursleys, but he had never been allowed to leave the confines of their house. It was different now; he didn't know how he had been so lucky, he had always lived in the squalor that the Dursleys had laid out for him. But now, everything was going to change, and Harry was sure it would be for the better. It couldn't possibly be worse.
As they made their way to the Weasley home, Harry found himself looking out the carriage window to the city. The sun had almost set below the horizon, which gave the sky a red hue and the city a romantic look. He had never seen London, only the dull suburbia of Little Whinging. It was more than he could have ever imagined. In the distance Harry saw a stunning mansion, it was beautifully architected, illuminated by the dimming light of the sun it looked more amazing. He couldn't believe that anyone could own anything so awe-inspiring. "May I ask a question?" Harry queried.
"You just did." Arthur responded.
"Oh, okay." Harry said. An odd silence lasted a few moments when Arthur broke it.
"Didn't you have a question?" He asked.
"Yes, but I thought I was talking out of turn, see Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia never let me ask questions."
"No, no, as far as I'm concerned, anything that those miserable people taught you, you may as well forget. Now what was your question?"
"Oh right, um, I was wondering who lives in that big house over there?"
"Why would you like to know?"
"It's just that it's such a nice house, I've never seen anything like it. It's huge, and even though there's no sun, there's still light, and I don't know how that happened because I didn't see anyone around to light any lamps. I bet nobody in that house is forced to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs."
"My heavens, no, I would never allow my family to live like that." Arthur said with a smile.
"You mean…"
"Yes."
"And then…'
"Right."
"So I…"
"That's correct."
Harry became so overcome with joy. It swelled within him like a balloon. There were so many things that he wanted to say. He'd never been so excited. "Thank you." Was all he could think of, all that he knew to say, he had never had a reason to be thankful, but his luck was turning around. "I can't begin to express my gratitude from rescuing me from those horrible people." He stared out the window and looked at his new home. He may have a real home, a real family, or as close as he could get to one, for the first time in his life.
The sounds of the gate creaking open removed Harry from his reverie. He was lost in the noise around him. The crickets chirping, the horses trotting, an unrecognizable hum that he was sure was coming from the strange luminaries that adorned the ground. "I'm so grateful for this, you wouldn't believe. It was awful with the Dursleys, so I just want you to know again how thankful I am for taking me away from them."
"It's my pleasure; I couldn't stand to know that a child such as yourself was being put through that, especially since they had the means to give you more than nothing. I'm sure my family will be surprised, but happy that we could help out someone unfortunate."
Then a thought came into Harry's mind, one he didn't think to think before, one he didn't like the thought of, for it could mean the end of his brief sense of happiness and belonging. "What if they aren't? What happens to me if they don't want me? Do I have to go back to them?" He felt tears stinging the lids of his eyes. "Please, after you fired Uncle Vernon, they'd kill me; I'd rather be dead then go back to their torture."
Arthur put his hand on Harry's quavering shoulder. "You don't have to worry. I won't let that happen." Harry felt safe; he trusted Arthur and hoped that the other Weasleys would accept him as well. The carriage came to a halt. "Guess this is the moment of truth." Harry said.
"You have nothing to worry about." Arthur said. The door was opened by the cabbie. Harry followed Arthur out of the carriage. Staring at the grand entrance, Harry started to feel more nervous than before. "Come along Harry."
Harry was jumbled inside, nervous, excited, apprehensive; nothing was left in his hands. He gave himself to the Weasleys knowing full well he could be cast aside, but the glimmer of hope was enough for him to eagerly enter his new home. He was home.