AN:Wow! I've actually had quite a bit of positive feedback so far on this story. Thanks so much to all those who favourited, followed and reviewed. It's all highly appreciated, and helps me know how to adapt and improve my story.

Disclaimer

Nope, still don't own the world of Harry Potter. As much as I would love to , I could never be that original.

Hidden in Hogwarts: Chapter 2

A five-year-old boy sprinted through the vast hallways of Potter Manor, giggling manically when he heard the yells of frustration coming from the direction of the kitchen. Harry's parents had never seen him coming, thanks to the invisibility cloak he had discovered in one of the many storage rooms of his home. He had always been a devious little child, inherited from his father, much to his mum's annoyance. So far he had only gotten around to nicking food from the dining room, but both his parents could already sense the young mischief maker hidden under the surface. A loud, metallic clatter echoed through the door, shortly followed by a shouted string of curse words. Harry grinned as his mind registered his dad's voice from the kitchen.

"Oh, Merlin! Lily, I didn't even hear him! I swear, that kid is going to be the death of me one day! The little sneak!"

Harry grinned to himself and hurriedly stuffed his face with his newly-aquired pumpkin pasty, one of both his and his father's personal favourites.

"Ha! Y'know, he reminds me a bit of you, James," Mum scoffed. She always took Harry's side after his pranks, mostly because she was never the subject.

"That's it! I'm coming after you, you little monkey!" Dad roared, but there was a playful edge to it, and as suddenly dashed from the room, determined on finding Harry.

Harry squealed nervously and began sprinting even faster towards the end of the hallway, away from the oncoming echoing of Dad's footsteps. However, as he took his first step, the cloak got caught underneath, resulting in it falling to the floor, revealing Harry's position. Within seconds, he was tackled to the ground by his laughing father, and a tickle war was raging. His mum watched on fondly at her two favourite people. She often wondered what might have happened had they not isolated themselves from the rest of the wizarding world four years previously. What were the chances that they would still be as happy as they were right now? She doubted it. There wasn't much time for fun while fighting alongside the Order of the Phoenix against Voldemort. Lily was certain that they had made the right choice in a allowing their son to have a childhood rather than being trained as a weapon in the war.

James and Harry seemed to have come to a mutual agreement on who had one. Dad had him pinned the floor, and Harry eventually stopped squirming desperately against him. They eventually both rolled to the floor, panting breathlessly. Lily grinned. Yes, she had definitely made the right decision.

XxXxXxXx

Eight-year-old Harry stared and the baby in front of him. Emily was two months old, and his parents had entrusted her in his care while they popped out to the shops to purchase the groceries. He was determined to not let anything happen to her while they were gone, so therefore refused to allow her to leave his sight. Their eyes were locked together in a staring contest, and Harry eventually gave up. He sighed. His baby sister didn't tend to be very entertaining, and Harry was extremely bored. His parents had been gone for what seemed like hours, and the house elves were too busy preparing dinner to play with them. If only he knew where his parents left the brooms.

Hedwig, the family's owl, flew through the window of the nursery and deposited the Daily Prophet onto the floor beside him. He thanked the owl before quickly skimming over the main articles, but finding nothing out of the ordinary. Voldemort's attacks had grown less and less frequent over the years, until now they had become a very rare occurrence. Delving further into the paper and still finding nothing of interest, he settled the paper back onto the floor beside Em. His parents and the house elves had been teaching him basic lessons in life like how to read and write, but he was also allowed to occasionally learn a selection of spells, and now Harry was advancing quickly through the Hogwarts curriculum. His parents guessed he now had the knowledge of an advanced second year, or low third. Mum and Dad had decided not to send him to Hogwarts, since they felt he was untrustworthy and manipulative. Harry agreed. From what his parents had told him about the mad headmaster, he sounded completely off his rocker. He was also told all along about the Prophesy, but also how fickle and imprecise they were.

Em began to cry loudly. Harry was getting frustrated. His parents had now left two hours ago on what they claimed was a 'short' errand, and he was now beginning to doubt their sincerity. Harry carefully picked up his baby sister and balanced her on his hip, walking slowly to the kitchen so as not to jostle her. He was a very protective older brother and took his role seriously. Mum had said that if she started crying then he had to feed her. Now... where did she say the instructions were? Aha! Placing Em in her highchair, he warmed the milk in the microwave and tested the temperature on his wrist. Deciding that it was acceptable, he poured it into a small pink beaker and held it to Em's mouth. as she sucked on it gratefully, Harry began to wonder what his parents were doing. It was his birthday tomorrow; what were the chances that they were just preparing for that? Highly unlikely, he concluded. His parents tended to always make a rather large deal out of such events, and it was extremely out of character for them to leave preparations to last minute.

It was beginning to get late now. Harry decided, as the responsible and independent child he was, that he would take both himself and Em to bed. Walking up the flight of stairs with a baby in arms proved to be difficult, but manageable. Em's room was painted a neutral yellow, decorated with painted elephants of varying shades of blue and pink. Her cot was situated in the far corner, with glow-in-the-dark stars stuck above.

Gently laying the young child under the quilt, Harry began to quietly hum a lullaby, lulling her slowly to sleep. It was a muggle song that his parents had used to sing to him while they lived in Godric's Hollow, and it had always stuck in his head. Softly closing the door after him as he left the room and tiptoed his way into his own room. He barely could manage the effort of changing into his Quidditch pyjamas before collapsing into bed, exhausted after his long day.

XxXxXxXx

The next day, Harry was rudely awoken by Em crying loudly. He could hear it from the other side of the manor! He waited impatiently for one of his parents to make her settle down, but the time never came. Sighing groggily, he rose out of bed and made his way to his baby sister's room. From downstairs, he could smell the faint aroma of frying bacon, and was suddenly hit with the realisation that it was his birthday. He was nine! He ran the rest of the way to Em's room, and burst through the door energetically.

"Hey Em! Guess what? It's my birthday!" He exclaimed happily, and the young girl gazed up at him uncomprehendingly.

Harry picked her up swiftly and began bouncing her up and down on his knee. She giggled.

"Let's go and find Mum and Dad, hey? We can ask them what took so long last night," he laughed, before quickly but carefully carrying her down the stairs and into the dining room.

Harry burst through the oak door, expecting to find a room with his parents grinning widely at him, balloons tied to each chair and the table filled with intricately wrapped presents, but was mildly disappointed to find it significantly lacking in all three. Oh well, he thought dismissively. Nothing could ruin his good mood.

Harry snapped his fingers loudly to summon one of the family's ten house elves. Mickey appeared, and Harry immediately began ordering a large breakfast for the family of four, hoping to surprise Mum and Dad. Within minutes, a hearty feast filled the table with a wide range of food that varied from pancakes to fruit to bacon. Delicious smells filled the large room, and Harry waited dutiful for his parents to arrive, Em sitting opposite him in her special chair.

After a quarter of an hour passed, Harry decided to turn on the muggle television set that sat in the corner of the room. Mum had insisted on buying one to remember her upbringing and Dad, being the softie he was, agreed without complaint. It immediately tuned in to the local news station, something about a crash outside the local convenience store, resulting in two unidentified casualties. Boring, Harry thought, and glanced at the clock, which read 10 o'clock.

Mum and Dad never sleep in this long. Deciding to take action, Harry picked up Em again and prodded back upstairs to his parents' bedroom. the door was slightly ajar, and Harry pushed it open all the way.

The bed was made, and there was a distinct lack of grown-ups in the room. Snapping his fingers again, Harry asked Mickey if he knew where they were.

"Mickey is sorry young master Harry, but I has not seen masters since yesterday morning, sir,'" and with a CRACK, the elf disappeared.

Harry returned back to the dining room, and began to help himself to the food on the table.

He waited for his parents return. And waited. And waited.

But they never came back.