Author's Notes 1: Minor grammatical and typo corrections were made to chapter one; rereading isn't necessary.
Paper Birds
Chapter Two: A Doorway
The next morning, Harry woke up very early. The horizon was beginning to turn a rose-orange and the few clouds dotting the sky were colored a pale gold by the rising sun. He grinned widely, happy beyond belief that finally, finally he would be leaving the Dursleys. Unable to contain himself, he did an odd little jig about the room. The snowy owl clicked her beak in amusement.
"Sorry," Harry said, grinning. "I think we can get away with you flying to Hogwarts, if you feel up to it. Oh, but we should probably think of a name for you; I haven't been very good about that, have I? So, there's Frost and Hera, um and Artemis too, I think. Or maybe–" He continued chatting away cheerfully as he ran his fingers lightly over the owl's feathers. The owl mostly ignored his ramblings but allowed the petting. It was soothing and companionable. Harry had never had someone who would listen or let him talk just because he needed to.
The sun continued rising, and at six o'clock Aunt Petunia threw open his door. Harry blinked at her from his bed, where he sat reading Magical Herbs. There was a surprising number of muggle plants listed in it, and he was curious to know if they could still be used for potions if the plants were grown in a non-magical environment. He would have to remember to ask. For now, he grabbed his messenger bag and Hera's – the snowy owl – cage and followed his aunt downstairs. Hera had flown off for Hogwarts awhile ago. Harry was thankful for this because Aunt Petunia looked angrier than normal.
She hurried him out the door, barely pausing to grab her purse and keys. Harry settled into the backseat. The drive to London was silent and tense, and more than once he caught Aunt Petunia glaring at him through the rearview mirror, mouth twisted as though she was gearing up to start yelling. She never did, but it still wrecked havoc on Harry's nerves.
The minute his aunt had parked the car, Harry was out and waiting at the boot of the vehicle. There was a discarded trolley nearby which he quickly commandeered. It took him a while to wriggle his trunk out of the car and onto the trolley, especially since his aunt hadn't bothered to get out of the driver's seat to help. Finally, after a few more sharp tugs, the boy finished his task. Harry pushed the trolley toward the long walkway leading into the train station.
He paused by his aunt's window, hesitating. The woman glared bitterly at him through the thin glass. Swallowing heavily, he waited. When he didn't leave or better yet, spontaneously combust under the weight of her ire she rolled down the window, an acidic barb on her tongue. Harry quickly cut her off.
"Um, I just… See you next summer?" The pleasantry came out weakly and his shoulders curled into a hunch.
"Next summer then," said Aunt Petunia in a slightly pained, disgusted tone.
Pointedly, she started the car. Instinctively understanding the implied threat, Harry rushed to continue on his way. Between his aunt and uncle, she was the most dangerous. His uncle's punishments were decided in the thrall of rage; true, they were swift and horrible, but they were also short and easier to recover from. Punishments from his aunt, on the other hand, were very deliberate. It made Harry a bit sick to think about it so he went out of his way to avoid doing so.
Instead, he focused on pushing his way through the thick crowd into King Cross Station. The crush of people subsided and Harry looked around himself with wide eyes. He had thought, given the building's size, that after the entrance there wouldn't be such a high concentration of people. He was wrong. Businessmen and women dressed in smart suits strolled purposely from platform to platform with high-tech phones pressed to their ears. Casually dressed people – tourists, he supposed – were clustered around maps, plotting their routes. Several hundred were standing about, varying degrees of impatience written on their faces.
Harry felt unnervingly claustrophobic. Heart rate accelerating, he moved over to a small unoccupied bench where he sat hunched over, eyes tightly shut. He wasn't used to dealing with so many people without the insurmountable barrier the Dursleys represented. Air traveled thickly through his lungs. He broke into a cold sweat. Surrounded by this amount of people with nothing to help distance himself from them, Harry felt light-headed and dizzy.
Hot tears sprung up in his eyes and his shoulders trembled. Strangers passed by the distressed boy without a care as they chattered away with loud, mocking voices. It was like he was invisible. That… he could deal with that, he realized. Harry forced himself to calm down, to think rationally.
It took much longer than he would have like but eventually he was settled enough to start looking for platform nine-and-three-quarters. As long as he kept his head down and didn't look at anyone too closely, the panic he had felt earlier was pushed to the back of his mind. Harry paused to wipe his sweaty palms on his worn trousers as he took a quick glance around. A little ways away, there was a small stand selling magazines and sandwiches.
Harry dug his hand into the front pocket of his schoolbag and fished out a handful of one pound coins. The coins had been taken from Uncle Vernon and Dudley's trouser pockets over the course the three weeks preceding the book incident. He did a quick count and figured he had enough for a sandwich and a bottle of water, at least.
Pushed his trolley closer to the stand and made sure that he could always keep it in view as he bought his lunch. He wasn't sure just how he would be traveling to Hogwarts or if food would be provided, but having extra never hurt. Harry picked out a ham, cheese and tomato sandwich along with a large bottled water. The cashier gave him a bland, almost curious stare but didn't bother asking any questions as he rang up the boy's purchases. A slow blink and yawned "Have a nice day" saw the boy off.
By now it was nearing quarter till eight, so Harry moved on. He paused now and then to check the signs before returning to weaving around clusters of people. Platform seven went by then eight, and finally he reached platforms nine and ten. Somewhere around here there should be nine-and-three-quarters or a sign pointing the way, but there wasn't. Instead, there were even more people standing about. Harry wanted to scream. How was he supposed to get to the platform? Had Hagrid forgot to tell him some secret code or trick he was meant to use?
He let out a shaky breath, frustration curling in his gut. Was this some stupid elitism thing, like that blond boy from Malkin's had said? A test to weed out the unworthy or whatever? Like "sorry, we thought you were it but we were wrong" only worse because it had been a chance at freedom.
Harry had no idea what he was going to do now. He could ask the station attendants for help, but he wasn't sure they would know about Hogwarts and he didn't want to get in trouble. The measly ten pounds Harry had collected was gone; he only had wizard gold left. Hera was safe at least, likely at Hogwarts by now. But that didn't comfort him much.
For a long time, Harry just stood there breathing roughly and trying to ignore the building sting behind his eyes. The boy had been so excited, so happy but now… Lost in thought as he was, he didn't notice a family of three watching him grow increasingly despondent. He couldn't go back to the Dursleys; maybe he could find a small flat and live off his inheritance? Or maybe…
A thin hand appeared suddenly on his shoulder. Harry jump with a small yelp. Eyes wide, he turned to gape up at a tall grey eyed girl.
"Hello," she said with a smile. Her auburn hair was tucked into a black newsboy cap and a gold pin inscribed with a P was fastened to her shirt. Grey eyes flicked over to Hera's empty cage. "Are you bound for Hogwarts, too?"
"Yeah," was all Harry managed.
"My name's Alexandra Adams; it's nice to meet you."
"I – um, Harry Potter," he spat out then winched at how rude he'd sounded. "I mean…" The girl blinked slowly as if startled, but kept smiling. Harry was grateful for that.
"Where you waiting for someone," Alexandra asked.
"No, I just – that is… My aunt dropped me off; she's really busy, you know. But I forgot to ask her how to get to the platform," he trailed off, hoping desperately that she would believe him. Normal eleven-year-olds weren't left by themselves in busy stations, Harry knew, but the lie was safer than the truth. The girl's smile gained a weird edge but she didn't press for details.
"Well, how about I give you a hand with that?" Harry quickly agreed. He followed her over to two men who stood waiting by a large trunk. They were both taller than Alexandra but one looked to be only a few years older. "This is my father, Jeremiah, and my older brother, Miguel." Her brother's hair was odd, black with purple and pink mixed throughout, and his ears were covered in piercings. He noticed Harry staring and shrugged.
"Was a bet," he said, pointing to his head. Harry nodded even though he didn't understand which one the man meant.
Mr. Adams didn't say anything at all, but he did give Harry a kind smile which looked remarkably like his daughter's. The girl quickly took charge, issuing orders for Mr. Adams and Miguel to wheel the group of four's luggage through the gate. Miguel eased Harry's trolley away from him then headed toward a stone pillar in between platforms nine and ten, whining half-heartedly all the way. His father followed him with Alexandra's trunk.
"The barrier to nine-and-three-quarters is hidden in the pillar," Alexandra began. "In order to get there, we need to walk through the front side."
"What?" he said in a dull voice.
"Doesn't make much sense to me either; the Professor said that the one who thought it up was a bit of a prankster." Nonchalantly, she reached out to hold his hand. Harry gave their hands, and then her, a startled look. "Also, it's not really in a good location. The other side spits you out in the middle of everything, so you have to be careful not to get ran over. But we're early enough that it shouldn't be a problem."
He tried to ignore how solid the brick column they were walking toward looked and how much it would hurt when they ran into it. Instead he focused on the rise and fall of the older girl's voice as she explained the history of the Hogwarts Express and its two stations. She was just starting to say that they had refurbished the train in 1974 because of a duel between a group of Slytherins and Gryffindors when the two students stepped through the gateway. Instinctively, Harry closed his eyes.
When Harry opened them again, he had returned to the wizarding world.
Platform nine-and-three-quarters wasn't as overtly magical as Diagon Alley but there were definitely signs of it all around, including the floating one proclaiming welcome. Cats meandered importantly about while owls hooted at each other. Families were all over the area; Harry thought he saw the boy from Malkin's but quickly pushed the though from his mind. He continued looking about, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone using magic.
Harry's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. Embarrassed, Harry ducked his head then tried to pretend it hadn't happened. The Adams family grinned at each other over his head.
"Breakfast does sound good, doesn't it?" said Mr. Adams absently. Harry narrowed his eyes at him, trying to tell if he was being mocked but the man was looking over at a small café tucked into the far corner of the platform. "But first, it might be best to put your things in a compartment."
Alexandra led the way followed by two now floating trunks. Harry resolved to learn that spell at the earliest convenience and made to follow her, but was quickly waylaid by Miguel, who nudged him in the direction of the café. The boy glanced between the two male Adams before sighing in defeat. The trio moved to the eatery and quickly claimed a table for four in view of the train.
"So what shall we get," mused Mr. Adams.
"I say we get Alex the strangest thing on the menu."
"No," Mr. Adams said blandly.
"Do they have oatmeal here," asked Harry quietly. For whatever reason, he was feeling rather shy now that Alexandra wasn't there. It was strange, but the girl felt safe. Not that her family wasn't, it was just that they had a quiet intensity that she lacked.
"A responsible kid. Didn't think those existed." Miguel grinned at him from across the table.
"Your sister likes oatmeal."
"After she's drowned it in sugar, maybe."
The two adults continued bantering, pausing only to place their orders at a waitress' arrival. Harry remained silent, jealous of the ease in which they talked. The tea had just arrived when Alexandra returned, smiling a strange smile that made Harry wonder what she was thinking about. They greeted her as she sat down beside him.
"Is something wrong?" said Harry.
"Hm? Oh, no; it's nothing to worry about." He thought about telling her that her smile still had that odd metallic edge, but decided not to. "So, I've put your trunk in the compartment I usually sit in. A few friends of mine were there and they'll keep anyone from messing with it." While she had talked, Alexandra had been adding sugar cubes to her tea. By the time she was done Harry didn't think it could be called tea anymore. The boy hurried to look away when she took a sip.
The rest of their meal went quietly and soon, they were standing near an entryway into the middle of the train. Harry shifted nervously in place, head down and locked in a staring contest with the concrete. He wanted to sneak away from the display of familial affection but at the same time wanted to bask in the warmth for as long as possible. It was weird and confusing, and Harry couldn't help but feel a little guilty. For what, he wasn't sure.
"Harry." He looked up to see Mr. Adams smiling kindly at him. "Have a good year."
The eleven-year-old boy blinked in surprise before breaking into a wide, happy smile.
"Okay. Thanks."
Author's Notes 2: Yes, there are OCs. No, I can't get rid of them. After the next two or so chapters, they probably won't show up again. Not much happened in this one but I wanted a transition chapter between the Dursleys and Hogwarts.
Next chapter: "The Hatta"
