Disclaimer: All characters, themes etc. pertaining to the Harry Potter books belong to Mrs. Rowling
AN: Long wait. I know. Explanations in Profile page.
The day was hot, but made tolerable by the light breeze blowing.
Faith walked down the shaded sidewalk, pack swinging, as she made her way to the library. She had a lot on her mind; the conversation she had just overheard was milling through her brain.
Harry at St. Brutus's? Harry Potter? How could that be? The Harry she knew was not even remotely 'criminal'. But then, it's not like she really knew him. She had never even had a conversation with him, after all.
Faith heaved a sigh. Could they have been talking about a different Harry? No, Mrs. Rosy got the information from Arabella who got it from Marge, Harry's aunt. But… it just couldn't be. It didn't make sense.
Faith arrived at the library before she realized and stood blinking at the front doors for a moment. She shook her head and went inside.
Inside, unlike the outside, was cool, almost cold.
The library was one of Faith's most favorite places. She loved the musky smell of books and the sound they made when their pages were turned. Faith came here often to read or do her homework in the quietude, or else just to talk to the librarian, Mr. Holte.
Faith looked around and, not seeing Mr. Holte, walked to the back of the library where he could usually be found sitting on the floor, amidst tables, with piles of books around him.
Sure enough, there he was on the floor, studying a large map, his glasses forgotten on top of his balding head.
"Hello, Mr. Holte," said Faith in a cheerful tone. "What's hooked your curiosity this time?"
Holte looked up in surprise and a grin spread on his face. "Faith m'girl! Back for more books?" He didn't wait for her response; instead he tapped the map he had been studying. "Egypt! The land of sand and curses, mummies and pyramids. Fascinating place, simply fascinating! Full of historical—"
He stopped abruptly and looked up at Faith. "I say, I'm sure you're not here to hear some old man talk about nonsense. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Faith plopped down next to a pile of books, picked up the top one and leafed idly through it. "What can you tell me about St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys?"
Holte's eyebrows shot straight up; clearly this wasn't the type of question he had expected. "St. Brutus's Secure Center…. Why would you want to know about that place?"
Faith said the first thing that came to her mind, "I'm going to do an article on it for the school paper."
"But school hasn't started yet," he pointed out, then frowned. "I didn't know you wrote for the school paper."
"Oh… no, I don't. Well, not yet. But you know, if we want to report for the paper this school year, we have to write an article and send it in before school starts. The articles get judged, and the best writers are in."
"Really? Is that the way they do it now? Things sure have changed since my days. It makes sense though. Left it off a bit late, though, haven't you?" he asked, mildly reproving.
Faith flushed at the reprimand and rubbed her head uncomfortably. "Yeah, just a bit."
"Well, I'll go see what I can find for you. Won't be long." And he got to his feet, hop-skipped over the piles of books and disappeared between the shelves.
Faith leaned her head back against the desk behind her and breathed a deep sigh of relief. She congratulated herself on her quick thinking and squashed the little bubble of guilt that was trying to bloom. She didn't like to lie, but thought that, in this case, it was best to keep the truth to herself. They just wouldn't understand why she was so concerned, especially when Faith herself didn't fully understand why she was so interested.
Holte returned after several long minutes with a large maroon book and a phone book.
"There's not much to go on, really. This book," he said, pointing to the maroon one, "has a little of it's history, and it even has a picture but, mind you, it was published before I was born, so it might not be too helpful."
He then opened the phone book and found 'St. Brutus's'. "Here's their phone number and address. I figured you could call and ask to interview an employee for your article. They'd be a sight more helpful and informative than a fifty-year old book, I can guarantee."
Faith was already copying down the phone and address on a piece of paper, which she stuffed hastily into her pack, and was thanking Mr. Holte for his help before he had even finished talking.
She bent over the maroon book and flipped through its thick pages until she came to the heading, St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.
Beneath that, Faith read:
"St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys was built in the late 1870's by multi-millionaire Robert Boyce after having been ambushed in an alleyway by a group of boys. From a holding cell for juvenile delinquents, it turned into a school and rehabilitation center for children with violent tendencies. St. Brutus's is run similarly to English schools with the exception of permanent detainment for severe cases."
That was all it said.
Faith looked at the black and white picture for a moment before closing the book with a snap.
She thanked Holte, who had gone back to his map, and left the library.
Once back outside, Faith pulled out the piece of paper and looked at it, wondering what she was going to do next.
Harry wasn't at his uncle's house anymore, according to Gretel, who had seen him run off with a great trunk. Was he heading back to St. Brutus's, or elsewhere? She couldn't think of where else, other than St. Brutus's, he could have gone to.
She thought she could call… but what if she called and he wasn't there yet…
Faith decided to wait.
On the day before school was to start, Faith slipped out of her house and walked around until she found a public phone.
She dialed the number and waited for someone to pick up.
"Saint Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, how can I help you?" said a woman's voice.
"Yes, hello. I'd like to speak to Harry Potter, please." Faith tried to sound clear and mature.
"Family, friend, or other?" asked the woman.
"Friend. Very close friend," added Faith, just to be on the safe side.
"Just a second please." The voice was replaced by a beeping.
Faith picked at a peeling sticker that was stuck on the inside of the phone booth and waited.
Finally, after what seemed like hours: "I'm sorry but we don't have a Harry Potter registered here."
Faith sighed; he wasn't there yet. "Can you please tell me when he'll arrive?"
"I'm sorry, Miss, I think you misunderstood me. There is no Harry Potter attending St. Brutus's."
Faith straightened and frowned. "That can't be. He's attended the past two years. Did he get transferred or some such thing?"
The woman on the other end sounded tired, but she remained cordial. "I'll check again to make sure. Hold for just a second, please."
Tapping a foot, Faith ran a hand through her auburn hair until the woman spoke again.
"Miss, our records show that we have never had a Harry Potter in attendance. There has been no Harry Potter here the last two years. Can you maybe have the name wrong, Miss?"
"No, I couldn't. Are you sure?" asked Faith. "It's Potter, P- O- T- T- E- R. Did you spell it correctly?"
"I checked and double checked, Miss. There is no Harry Potter."
"Okay then. I must have made a mistake. Thank you very much for your help." Faith's mind worked furiously as she hung up the phone.
Harry, where in the world are you? She thought to herself in bewilderment as she headed home.
