Living in the Library, a harry potter fanfic

Living in the Library
by Healer Pomfrey

All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.
I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes.

Warning: COMPLETELY AU!

Eight-year-old Harry Potter wearily followed his relatives into the Ink Pot, the Dursleys' favourite bookshop. He did not feel overly enthusiastic, knowing that - as usual - Dudley would receive a book, although he was not interested in reading at all, while he was going to be ignored anyway. Harry only possessed one book, an old garden book, which he had managed to rescue out of the rubbish bin. However, he already knew the text by heart, and he wished so much that he'd receive a book again sometime soon.

Unfortunately, on this day, his uncle was in an extremely bad mood, and when Harry - without considering what he was doing - pulled an interesting looking book out of a shelf to look at it, his uncle became very angry.

Harry backed up in fright, only to hit his head against something hard. Rubbing the back of his head, he curiously turned around, only to see a handle. 'A door,' he thought in surprise. Somehow, this door was different from the other few doors, which were labelled 'Toilets' and 'Private'. This door did not possess any label, however, somehow, Harry felt strangely attracted by it. Not bothering to look if his uncle was watching him, he curiously pushed down the handle and entered the room that was behind the door.

While the other parts of the bookshop were fairly crowded this shortly before Christmas, to his surprise, this room was completely empty.

Somehow enjoying his newly found freedom, as the door had shut itself behind him, Harry eagerly skimmed the shelf in front of him, stepping nearer upon seeing a label 'Children's books'. He eagerly deciphered the backs of the first few books, noticing two things. First of all, the girls and boys in the pictures on the backs of the books were moving! Secondly, most of the books seemed to belong to a series called 'The five magical friends'.

Harry carefully pulled out a book, 'The five magical friends and the griffin cub', and happily began to read. Soon, he was sitting on the seat in front of the window, deeply engrossed in his lecture. He only let the book sink, when he had finished it, feeling completely stunned at what he had read. 'Does magic exist?' he wondered. 'These children are like me,' he thought with a combination of amazement and excitement.

He was just about to look for another book to read, when he realised that it began to slowly get dark outside. 'Oh no, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon will be so angry,' he thought. However, to his own surprise, the idea did not bother him much. 'I'll just stay here and read,' he decided, musing, 'They won't miss me. They'd only lock me into my cupboard again over Christmas. I'll rather read some more. They'll be happy to have gotten rid of me.'

At the same time, a loud alarm could be heard in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"What's this alarm, Albus?" Minerva McGonagall, the deputy headmistress, asked in concern.

The headmaster leaned over to the device and cancelled the alarm, before he said in a grave voice, "The wards around Harry's home are coming down. I'll go and check if everything is all right with little Harry."

"Let Severus and me join you, Albus," Minerva replied, horrified. "Maybe there are remaining Death Eaters attacking him."

The headmaster agreed, and the three professors stepped through the fireplace to Arabella Figg's home, from where they hurried towards the Dursleys' residence.

"Albus, everything seems quiet here. I believe that we can return to Hogwarts. Maybe your device is faulty," Severus Snape whispered, when they crossed the street right in front of the Dursleys' residence.

'I'd really love to check on little Harry,' Minerva thought, feeling very disappointed, when the headmaster agreed with her young colleague. Apparently noticing her frustration, he assured her that he'd ask Arabella to check on Harry at the next opportunity.

In the meantime, Harry had skimmed other parts of the bookshelf, beside the children's books part, and noticed in disbelief that most of the books somehow revolved around magic. He spent the rest of the day skimming several books, before he proceeded to read another book from the series 'The five magical friends'.

Sometimes, other customers came into the room. However, most of them merely looked into a few books or even decided after just a glance at the bookshelf what they wanted to buy and left after a short time.

To his relief, no one took notice of him, before at one stage someone entered the room and informed him, "We're going to close in ten minutes."

"Yes sir," Harry replied, obediently, and, after waiting for two minutes, he switched off the light, hoping that the man would not properly look into the room and discover him when it was dark inside.

Harry was lucky, and no one realised that he remained in the bookshop after its closing time.

On the one hand, Harry felt disappointed that it was too dark to read, but he did not dare switch on the lights again, however, on the other hand, he was extremely excited at the idea to just remain and live in a bookshop. 'I just hope no one will notice it and throw me out,' he thought. After a few hours' time, he felt that he had to go to the toilet, and - hoping that no one would be in the bookshop overnight - as quietly as possible opened the door and headed towards where he had seen the door leading to the toilets earlier. To his relief, it was not completely dark, as faint light from the street lamps - Or was it from the moon? - fell into the rooms. Only inside the wash room did he dare switch on the light. He relieved himself and drank some water from the sink, feeling very happy to be able to get water whenever he was thirsty.

Harry curled up in a corner of the room in front of the window and slept most part of the night. He only woke up when the rays of the early morning sun tickled his face.

The thought 'I'm still here at the Ink Pot, and I can read as much as I want' was immediately at the front of his mind, and he felt happier than he could remember having ever felt before. He reached for the next book in the interesting series and began to engross himself in his lecture. Only when customers came into the room, he finished reading and stood in front of the shelf, where he looked at other books with interest, trying to make people believe that he was just choosing a book to buy. To his relief, no one took notice of him, and not even the man who had come into the room to warn him that they were closing shortly came into the room. Instead, he heard an announcement that the Ink Pot was going to close in ten minutes' time, and that the Ink Pot wished everyone a happy Christmas.

'So I'm going to have a few days just for myself,' Harry thought in anticipation, feeling very happy to be able to just remain in the room and read as much as he wanted without having to fear that anyone would throw him out.

On this same afternoon of Christmas Eve, Arabella Figg's head appeared in the fireplace of Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"I went to the Dursleys to ask if Harry could help me shovel snow," she explained, "however, the Dursleys told me that Harry has run away a few days ago."

"He ran away?" Minerva asked, incredulously.

"Well, Minerva, I don't think the Dursleys treated him well," Arabella replied, pensively. "I have no idea where the boy could have gone though. He didn't have any friends, and he knew nothing about the magical world. They didn't even tell him that he's a wizard."

The headmaster sighed in defeat. "Thank you for alerting us to the matter," he replied, glancing at his phoenix. "Too bad that Fawkes is close to his burning day. Otherwise, I could just send him to Harry. He won't be able to flash anywhere for at least three weeks."

Minerva glared at the old wizard. "This is just your fault, Albus," she said in the stern voice that was usually reserved for students coming for detention. "I won't pity you about the loss of Harry Potter. I'm going to write to him though. Maybe I'll be able to help him." With that she left the headmaster's office and retired to her own rooms, wondering where little Harry could be.

Harry had just finished the fifth volume of The Five Magical Friends and decided to take a look at the other books. 'I can read what I want. It doesn't have to be children's books,' he thought, although he was very much tempted to just go on with book six of the series.

Taking a good look at the shelves that were surrounding the room, he discovered that the books were separated in various sections like 'Charms', 'Transfiguration' and several more. Curiously, he pulled a random book out of the shelf, realising with interest that it was titled 'Easy Transfiguration Spells for Beginners'.

'How cool is that?' he thought in excitement, when one of the first spells described in detail how to change something into a different item.

'Maybe I can change something into a piece of bread,' he thought, suddenly feeling slightly hungry. Even if the Dursleys had never fed him much, at least he received a dry piece of bread and a small slice of cheese every morning.

Not bothering to be quiet or otherwise careful, as the bookshop was closed anyway, he dashed to the wash room and grabbed a few pieces of paper, before he returned to his corner of what he already thought of as his room.

In lack of a wand, he merely waved his right hand at the first piece of paper, trying to make his hand follow the wand movement that was described in the book.

'I did it,' he realised, feeling very much accomplished, when the piece of paper turned into a thick slice of bread with butter and an equally thick slice of cheese on top of it. 'I wonder if I can really eat that or if it'll change back into paper,' he thought and very hesitantly took a small bite. His eyes widened upon realising that he could well eat the food and that it tasted better than anything that he had received at the Dursleys'.

Harry was still cheering about his success, when he finished his meal, when a tap against the window made him look up, horrified. To his surprise, he saw an owl sitting on the window sill. The owl was impatiently tapping against the window, holding out her right foot to him. 'Like in the books of the five friends,' he recalled. 'They use owls to send letters. But who would send me a letter?'

Harry hesitantly opened the window and let the owl in, carefully taking the letter that was attached to her right foot.

"Thank you very much," he told the owl, expecting it to take off again. However, the owl remained where she was, staring at him.

'Maybe it's waiting for a reply,' Harry thought, as he opened the parchement, certain that it was not for him, since no one ever wrote to him.

'Dear Harry,' the meticulous handwriting said,
'You won't know me. I am Professor McGonagall from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I knew your parents well, and I often babysat you when you were a baby.
Mrs. Figg told us that you ran away from your relatives, and I am worried about you. Will you please tell me where you are, so that I'll be able to help you?
I look forward to hearing from you.
Minerva McGonagall'

'What?' Harry thought in disbelief. 'Why now? Why did she not contact me before, when I still didn't know about magic. How can I write a reply anyway?'

After pondering the matter for a few minutes, he sat on the floor, took one piece of paper into his left hand and waved his right hand at it, trying to transfigure it to a pencil. Smiling broadly at his success, he turned McGonagall's parchment to compose his reply on the back.

'Dear Professor,
Please don't worry about me. I am in a bookshop where I can read as much as I want. I already learned about magic since I came here and I transfigured a paper into some bread (it was delicus) and a pencil to write this. No one helped me when I was with my relatives who hated me so much but now I don't need help anymore. I am fine now.
Yours sincerly
Harry'

He carefully folded the parchment and attached it to the owl's foot. "Will you please take this back to Professor McGonagall?" he asked the owl that uttered a few trills, before it took into the air.

'How strange. Why would the professor write to me now?' Harry wondered, before he finally dismissed the thought and concentrated on the book in front of him, eager to learn as much as possible while he could.

Minerva stared at Harry's letter, tears welling in her eyes. 'The poor boy,' she thought. 'What did Albus do to him by placing him with the Dursleys?' She glanced at her wrist watch. It was still an hour before dinner in the Great Hall. 'Christmas Eve dinner,' she corrected herself, inwardly growling at her old friend and mentor who had made her and what she thought of as of her grandson so unhappy.

She stepped over to the fireplace in determination and called Poppy and Severus, her colleagues and best friends, over.

"What's so urgent that it couldn't have waited for another hour?" Severus enquired in apparent annoyance.

However, Poppy gave her a close look, before she blurted out, "Minnie, what's wrong?"

Minerva sighed, as she handed her friends her letter, motioning them to turn the parchment for the response, while she waited for the reactions that she hoped to receive.

"The poor child," Poppy spoke up, shaking her head in disbelief.

"The Ink Pot," Severus merely said, his face schooled to a blank face. "It's the only magical bookshop within the Muggle world. It can't be Flourish & Blotts if he didn't know about magic. I know the Ink Pot well. Shall I go and fetch him?" he offered.

"Do you think it would be wise?" Minerva asked, sceptically. "Won't Albus just return him to the Dursleys?"

"Let's ask him at dinner," Poppy suggested, "without telling him where he is of course."

Severus glanced at his wrist watch. "Dinner is going to commence in thirty minutes. I'll speak with the boy. I'll be back on time, hopefully with some memories that will convince Albus."

Minerva watched in amazement how her youngest colleague stepped into the fireplace, shouting, "The Ink Pot."

'He has become a fine young man,' she thought, smiling at Poppy, who returned the smile, reassuring her that everything was going to be fine.

"I hope so," Minerva said, quietly. "You know Albus."

After practising a few more spells from the book, glad that he had brought so many papers from the wash room with him, Harry suddenly felt tired and put the book aside, noticing in surprise that it was already fairly dark anyway. 'I love it here,' he thought. 'I didn't even notice how fast the time passed. At the Dursleys', the days were much more boring.'

All of a sudden, the door opened, and Harry sat there in shock, when a tall figure stepped into the room.

"Don't worry, Harry, I won't do anything to you," the man addressed him in a soft voice, which made Harry unconsciously relax a little bit.

The man lowered himself onto the floor in front of Harry and began to speak in an equally soft voice.

'He smells like herbs,' Harry thought. 'I like it.'

"I'm Professor Snape from Hogwarts," the man told him. "Your mother was my best friend, and I'd like to explain a few things to you."

"Why now?" Harry asked in an upset voice, although he had to admit to himself that the man had come to speak with him. "Why not when I was suffering at my relatives', who called me a freak all the time?"

"Please let me explain," Snape repeated and told him that the headmaster had placed Harry with the Dursleys against everyone else's wish. "While you were there, we could not make contact with you. Only now, since we got to know that you were here, it became possible for us to reach out to you."

"Ah, all right," Harry replied in a small voice.

"I guess that you don't want to return to your relatives?" Snape queried, quirking an eyebrow.

"No sir," Harry confirmed quickly.

"Then we must convince the headmaster that your upbringing with them was inadequate," Snape replied, asking, "Do you know what Legilimency is?"

"No sir," Harry said, giving the man a questioning look.

"Look into my eyes and think of the most unpleasant scenes at your relatives' home," Snape instructed him in his soft, baritone voice that made Harry comply automatically.

Harry felt a strange presence in his mind, and during the next few minutes, Harry's worst memories passed in front of his mind, before he felt the other presence retreat.

"Does your head hurt?" Snape enquired, causing Harry to shake his head.

"No sir, I'm fine," he replied, almost automatically.

"Very well, Harry," Snape said, thoughtfully. "Christmas Eve dinner at Hogwarts is going to commence in ten minutes, and during dinner, Professor McGonagall and I will try to convince the headmaster to agree for us to take you to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Harry mouthed.

"Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry," Snape explained and rose from the floor to pull 'Hogwarts: A History' out of the shelf and hand it to the boy. "I shall send a house-elf to bring you dinner in a few minutes, and I'll return here to tell you about our conversation with the headmaster as soon as possible. Please remain here in the room. If everything goes well, we'll take you to Hogwarts later on. We have a much bigger library than the Ink Pot," he added, smirking.

"All right, sir. Thank you, sir," Harry replied, sensing that he could fully rely on the man, who left through the door in a swift pace.

Harry looked up in utmost surprise, when a few minutes later, a small table popped up in front of the chair, on which he used to spend his days. Moreover, the table was covered with a whole lot of all possible kinds of delicacies. He curiously sat on the chair to eye the food, as well as he could see in the faint light that came through the windows. Before he knew what he was doing, he automatically picked up the knife and fork from both sides of the plate and began to eat.

'This is like a dream,' he thought. 'Much better even than the Dursleys' Christmas dinner, from which I sometimes tried a bit while cooking.' To his chagrin, he was not even able to eat half of the delicious food, before he felt completely full.

Harry had already drifted off to sleep, dreaming from wizards with billowing robes who brought dinner for him, when he felt someone lightly shake his shoulder, causing him to flinch back badly.

"Easy Harry," a soft voice spoke up, which Harry recognised as that of Professor Snape along with the distinct smell of herbs. "Professor Dumbledore has agreed for Professor McGonagall and me to become your new guardians, and I wish to take you to Hogwarts now."

'I trust him,' Harry thought and hesitantly slid his hand into the professor's.

"Hold on tightly," Snape instructed him, before he apparated away. "Over there, you can see Hogwarts," he told Harry, once the strange movement stopped and they found themselves on the street.

Together, they walked up to the huge castle that with the many lights lit inside the towers looked beautiful in front of the dark sky.

"It's almost Christmas, Harry," the professor informed him. "I'll quickly show you the library, before I'll take you to your new room in my quarters for the night."

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied, happily, as he followed the professor into the castle.

'This is the library,' Harry thought in amazement. 'It's more beautiful than anything that I've ever seen before, and it's my new home. I must be the happiest boy in the world to be able to live in such a pretty library with so many books.'

The End