A/n: It is with renewed hope and eagerness that I post this third chapter. Will today be the day that I get a review? Will someone tell me what they think of my efforts? It's an interesting thought isn't it...


Chapter 3. The Little Barmpot

The world had become a strange place to the little raven. Everything had changed when he'd been taken into foster care, then changed again when he'd been taken into the Dursley's home. He'd barely had time to get used to how people, other than his own parents, treated him. But none had approached him as Mrs. Weasley had done. Or maybe 'approach' wasn't quite the right word. Harry had approached the family first for a little help, and had gotten much more than he'd expected.

The pleasant surprise didn't end there though. As Harry got over the overwhelming experience of the morning walk to school, he talked to Ron Weasley, and discovered the boy was really funny. He had a lot to say about his siblings, about his parents.

"My father works at the ministry." He told as he stuffed another cookie in his mouth while they waited for the school day to begin. "But everyone thinks he's a bit weird though, cause he's obsessed with magic. He performs tricks and stuff. He does it to friends, colleagues, even to us. It's how my mom and him got together. She told us she found it charming at first, but now she wishes he'd buckle down, get serious and get a promotion at the ministry."

Harry listened with pleasure. It was the first social interaction he'd had in what felt like ages. He hadn't talked to anyone his age since the last school year had ended.

"You got any siblings?" Ron asked him, and offered him one of his cookies. They looked home-baked and smelled delicious. Harry had relaxed a little and found he was hungry after his frugal breakfast. He gratefully took one.

"No." He replied, not really sure what he could add to that. He didn't want to end the conversation, but he certainly didn't want to volunteer anything about himself either.

Ron muttered a word Harry recognized as a curse word. He'd heard his father utter some at times, but his mother had always scolded him afterwards and warned Harry not to take over that 'bad' habit. He wondered where Ron had gotten it from.

"You're so damn lucky!" Ron complained aloud.

"I don't know…" Harry trailed off, unsure what he wanted to say. "I'd like to have a brother or sister." The previous years had been pretty lonely, alone with his parents or up in his bedroom, or even at Mrs. Figg's.

"One maybe, but I've got six!" He showed six fingers to emphasize the number.

"You mean, there's more?" The raven looked around the playground for more redheads he'd missed. The herd had looked so big and loud already. He couldn't imagine what it must be like when the whole family was together.

"Yeah." Ron rolled his eyes. "But you won't find Bill, Charlie and Percy here. They've moved on to secondary school already. Ginny and me are stuck here with the Siamese from hell." He finished darkly.

"Oh." The little raven responded politely. The red-eared boy made it clear he didn't like the twins much. But Harry had thought they were rather funny and lively.

Ron seemed to see what he was thinking. "Wait until you've spent a year in school with them." He warned.

At that point, the bell rang and all the kids, ranging from five to eleven years old assembled around teachers who held cardboard signs with the number of their grade marked on it. Harry and Ron moved together to their corresponding teacher, an unsmiling middle-aged woman whose lips formed a thin line. She wasn't very welcoming.

"That's Miss Snape." Ron whispered to Harry as they joined the crowd. "Everyone thinks she's pretty scary. But normally we shouldn't be having her this year."

When all children were divided by year, names were being called to form different classes. Harry crossed his fingers all the while, hoping he would get into the same class as Ron. He really liked him. He didn't want to end up alone. He was so lucky to already have found someone.

"Potter, Harry." The raven stepped out of the crowd to join the small group behind Miss. Snape. Another teacher stood there, a more friendly looking chestnut-haired woman, who was supposed to teach them all year long. A girl with bushy brown hair was talking to her.

"I'm not sure I bought the right book. At my previous school, we didn't finish the book, so I made sure to read it all during the summer, but then I saw you used a different one here…"

Harry went to stand beside the girl, but soon regretted it. Her constant chattering about books, notes and agenda's were making him nervous, as if he had done everything wrong. He hadn't prepared anything. Was he supposed to?

He played with his feet as he anxiously waited for the final names to be called for his group.

"Weasley, Ron." Was among the last ones. Harry's heart made a little summersault as he released his breath. The Weasley boy grinned at him as he also joined the group.

With classes divided, every group followed their teacher to the class. Miss Sullivan, as was their teacher's name, immediately ordered them to split up in groups of three for a little assignment on introducing oneself. Immediately, old friends packed together, leaving lonely stragglers at the front of the class, looking around for someone to take them in. Three formed a group of their own, which left only two: the bushy-hair girl, and a girl from African descent.

Miss Sullivan patiently helped them to find groups which only had two members, like Harry and Ron's. In the end, it was the girl with the bushy mane who joined them.

"Hi," she began rather haughtily, "I'm Hermione. I'm new this year but I made sure I would be ready for this school's curriculum."

Ron slightly choked on his own tongue as he tried to repeat the word 'curriculum'. Harry however wasn't sure how to proceed. He went for the diplomatic solution and simply introduced himself without further comment.

"I'm Harry, new too." He looked at Ron. Not only his ears, but his entire face had turned scarlet. "And that's Ron." he said, assuming Ron wouldn't be able to speak for himself yet.

The assignment wasn't hard really. It was more like a game. It was about making puzzles with words that described elements in each other's lives, like names of pets, or hobbies etc…

The part that was hard for Ron and Harry, was Hermione's constant meddling, pointing out their spelling mistakes or explaining them how the puzzles worked, apparently thinking they weren't able to read the guidelines that were printed on their sheets.

By the end of the assignment, both boys had learned much more about Hermione than they would've liked to. When lunch time came, they hurried off to make sure she wouldn't sit with them.


"Harry, what a pleasure to see you've bonded with my Ronnie." Mrs. Weasley chirped as the end-of-school bell rang.

It was their second week already, and she'd come to pick up her children at the gate every day; and each time, Harry was allowed to walk with them until they parted ways. He'd sometimes wondered why she didn't take the car, but then considered that the car that could fit the entire Weasley family still had to be made.

The raven simply smiled shyly and looked at his shoes. Walking with the Weasley's filled him with warmth every time. It also made him dread the moment he'd be alone again, having to open the door to number four Privet Drive and confront his own 'family'.

"Mom!" The twins called, hopping around and throwing rocks at everything that moved on their way. "Where have you been hanging around? A black-haired son in the family! What is dad going to say?" They made a show of looking affronted. Mrs. Weasley said a few 'un-nice' words to her sons and looked like she wanted to throw rocks too.

"What are they talking about, mum?" Ginny asked with a frown.

"Nothing Ginny, dear." Mrs. Weasley smiled nervously. "Don't listen to them."

"Where do they learn these things?" Harry heard her mutter under her breath, too low for anyone but him to hear.

Soon it was time to part again. Mrs. Weasley hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Ron didn't dare to say anything more than 'Bye' in front of his mother and siblings. And with that, Harry grabbed his bag straps at his shoulders and marched home with a heavy heart.

He was still a good fifteen-minute walk away from Privet Drive when he heard some loud yelling behind him. He started and turned around.

A black car had just pulled up by one of the bigger houses of the neighbourhood, and a boy with white-bond hair, seemingly in a blind rage, had jumped out the moment it stopped and ran to the house, around it, and into the back yard.

"Draco! Come back here this instant!" A woman yelled as she stepped out of the car on the driver's side.

Harry was frozen for a moment, looking on in shock. It reminded him a lot of the Durlsey's yelling at him, though they used much nastier words, and Harry wouldn't dare yell back.

The woman had the same white-blond mane as the boy, gracefully braided along her back. She looked beautiful, but very severe; certainly not a woman to be trifled with. Still, the boy did not come when called. She locked the car and marched stiffly into the house and closed the door behind her.

Harry blinked a few times, trying to process what he'd just witnessed. As he began turning around, he heard the woman's voice again, coming from the back yard this time. But there was no answer.

Deciding it was none of his business the raven picked up the pace again. But he didn't want to go straight home yet. He tried to put it off as much as he could; though it was dangerous. The Drusley's considered it a crime if Harry was late. When exactly Harry was late, he did not know himself. The hour seemed to change every day, depending on their mood.

The park was showing early signs of fall. The temperatures had dropped drastically over the last few days, and trees were swiftly morphing into multi-coloured drapes. The wind picked up and made the leaves whisper as Harry entered the park. He made for the swings, his own favourite spot, but was abruptly stopped in his tracks by the sight of a white-blond head.

He recognized the boy from before, aggressively kicking at the dirt, or the poles of the swing set.

"Hey!" Harry called out in indignation before he knew it. "Don't break it!" It was the only toy he had after all.

The boy's head snapped up. Clear grey eyes fixed the raven with a sharp gaze, as if challenging him to repeat what he'd said. Harry swallowed. Now that he was facing the boy and saw him from closer up, he noticed he was a bit taller than him, and quite a bit older. The eyes did nothing to reassure him.

But the boy merely snorted and turned away to take a seat on one of the swings.

What now? Thought Harry. He felt it would be wise to walk away. He clearly didn't have the upper hand here. But… his stomach felt tight…bubbly somehow. This was his place. So much had been taken away from him already. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair for him to have to retreat, just because this boy was older and stronger than him (or had scary eyes).

"Go on then!"

Harry's attention snapped back to the present. The boy had yelled at him.

"Go and cry to your daddy." He drawled.

The bubbly feeling intensified. The raven's claws were tingling, threatening to be exposed.

"Or you're probably a mama's boy, aren't you?" The white-haired boy sneered. "I don't care if you bring either. I'll kick both their arses!"

"SHUT UP!" The raven roared. His throat hurt with the strength of his voice. He'd used words he'd heard Fred and George at school, when their mother wasn't there to punish them.

The expression in the grey eyes changed. A glint of something Harry couldn't identify passed over them. The older boy stood up again.

"What did you say?" He said in an icy whisper.

Harry's fear had gone, melted away in something deep and hot that was boiling to the surface. He had no idea what was happening to him, but he wasn't in any state to think about it.

"I said 'shut up', you…" What was another word he'd heard the twins from hell use? "You quid!"

The effect was instantaneous. The hostile grey-eyed boy crumbled in a fit of laughter.

"You know that's not a curse word right? You little barmpot!"

The raven frowned, irritated. He hadn't used the word right. He'd have to ask Ron what it meant next time. Plus, he didn't know the word the older boy had used in return. What had he called him?

"My name is Harry!" He retorted, determined to stand his ground. He wondered where all this bravery came from all of a sudden. He'd never done this before. It wasn't like he'd ever needed to though. He'd never had to deal with bullies or anything.

The white head stopped laughing and raised an eyebrow. "You are, aren't you." He leered.

Now what was that supposed to mean, Harry wondered. He was out of his depth. His opponent definitely knew better what he was doing.

"Yes, Harry Potter." Somehow, it felt better to Harry to mention his parents' name; a way of gaining their support in his mind if not in reality.

"Well I am a Malfoy." grey eyes retorted, as if that settled the argument. "So you can just sod off to somewhere else." He waved dismissively at Harry and sat down on the swing again, kicking angrily at the dirt, his pale and pointy face screwed up in frustration and irritation.

Harry felt like screaming again. How could anyone in the world be so infuriating? He felt like flames should be shooting out of his eyes. To his greatest disappointment, it had no effect whatsoever. What else could he do? Kick the blond-haired boy out of the park? However angry he was, Harry could not imagine doing that.

Could he maybe just punch him on the nose? But Harry wasn't sure how to do that. Just make a fist, go stand in front of the person and swing at them? Somehow, there seemed to be something wrong with that plan. Back to the drawing board.

Except, there was no other plan. Not any that he could think of in the next few seconds. Harry had to admit it, he'd lost. The opponent was taller, heavier, and quicker with his tongue.

Green-eyes kicked the dirt himself in frustration and stomped past the swings, on the way out of the park. He didn't look back at the scary grey eyes.

Uncle Vernon was in the hall the moment the door opened. Apparently, that day had not been a good day for making drills, and he was ready to let out his anger on his ungracious and ungrateful brat of a nephew. What he had not anticipated though, was that the nephew, for the first time in the three weeks he'd spent under his roof, had some bottled up anger of his own.

"You're late!" The moustached walrus declared. He inhaled and inflated like a balloon to ready himself for a long insulting rant.

"SHUT IT!" The little boy yelled before the walrus could fully open his mouth.

Harry kicked the door shut and stomped straight towards the stairs. He was too furious to mind uncle Vernon, whose face was quickly flushing red under the bristling mustache.

BAM!

The hit landed hard on the back of the raven's head. He fell forwards and smashed his nose hard against the stairs. Another one followed immediately after that. Harry's glasses had fallen off his nose with the shock of the impact, and without them he blindly raised his scrawny arms to protect the most vital parts of his body.

"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia's panicked voice screeched. She quickly grabbed her husband's arm to put a halt to the beating. "What will people say when they see bruises!" She exclaimed.

Harry peeked in between his hands. Uncle Vernon's movements stopped as he continued to fix him threateningly. Aunt Petunia was looking down on his in disgust, and Dudley was peeking from the kitchen door with an excited look in his eyes and whipped cream on his face.

The anger had instantly vanished from Harry's stomach, replaced by paralyzing terror. For a moment, he'd been certain his uncle was going to kill him. But it looked like aunt Petunia had saved him. Maybe not for the best reasons, but still.

"Go to your room, Potter." Aunt Petunia uttered the name as if it was an insult. "And no dinner for a week!"

Dudley sniggered from his position at the kitchen door. It brought back some of Harry's previous anger to the surface. He looked up at Dudley with a 'shooting-daggers' gaze.

"UP TO YOUR ROOM, BOY! NOW!" Vernon bellowed. A vein in his temple looked like it was going to explode.

Harry forgot his irritation towards his cousin as his sense of self-preservation kicked in. He grabbed his schoolbag and glasses as he scrambled to his feet and ran up the stairs as fast as his feet could take him. As soon as he'd closed the door behind him, he heard a key turn in the lock.

The Dursleys had locked him into his room.

They hadn't done that before. It brought up a whole new kind of anxiety in the raven. What if he needed to use the bathroom at night? What if he was thirsty? What if he got sick? Would no one help him? Would no one care for him, or even about him?

Harry dropped his bag to the floor, and then himself on the bed. The old springs squeaked loudly. He stayed there for a while, immobile.

He stayed like that, still and silent, for a long time. Long enough for the late afternoon to progress to evening. The clouds at his window turned to a shade of pink. Noises from the evening meal could be heard from downstairs. Uncle Vernon's bass-voice carried through the entire house.

The raven was happy he wasn't down there. He didn't want any part of that family. Although it was far from being a comfortable feeling, being behind a locked door made him feel slightly safer, even if the enemy possessed the key.

Nonetheless, his stomach growled in famine. He rubbed it, hoping to dilute the empty feeling.

Harry stood up to get his 'wise magician' book in which he'd slid the pictures he'd gotten from Rebecca, then lay back down on his mattress.

He laid the book on his stomach and held the photo's above his face as he stared at them, one by one. As he came closer and closer to crying each second, he decided he needed a different place for these vivid reminders. A place less accessible. Safer, and less visible, so he wouldn't be tempted to look at them again.

After another hour of inspecting the room, he found a loose floorboard. Concluding it was the best he had, he tenderly deposited the envelope with the pictures under the floorboard, and closed it up again. There; no one will find them now.

Darkness slowly invaded England, and Harry crept under his covers, exhausted by the lack of food and the events of the day. His nose felt bruised and hurt when he touched it, and he'd found blood on his fingers when he'd wiped his face, though he didn't know where the wound was.

The raven was too tired to care now, and he rolled up into a ball, hugging his magician book to his chest. He fell asleep while fantasising about his mother's dry chicken, burnt vegetables and home-made cakes.

All through the next week, the raven was regularly woken in the middle of the night by his rumbling stomach. He ate as much as he could get his hands on at breakfast, and almost greedily accepted everything Ron was prepared to share at school. Mrs. Weasley had even brought her home-baked cookies when she came to pick up the herd on Wednesday. She gave Harry five, looking displeased with the way his clothes hung loose around his body.

"What are your parents feeding you?" She'd remarked. Harry had simply smiled apologetically. He seemed to do it more and more.

They had a group homework assignment due on Friday. Harry, Ron and Hermione had been put together again, and were supposed to do it together after school. But Harry hadn't dared ask anything to the Dursleys. They still locked him into his room right after he came back from school. His week-long punishment was not yet over.

Ron hadn't wanted to do it alone with Hermione. So in the end, neither of the boys had done anything. Which was a problem, come the moment when they had to present it to their teacher.

Miss Sullivan was going round the classroom, stopping at every group to inspect the work and comment about it. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat silently together, each staring in another direction. Hermione was far from dense. She'd understood pretty quickly that the two boys were avoiding her. It didn't stop her from making comments about their mistakes from time to time, but it had lessened considerably. Most of the time, she 'humpfffed' with her nose in the air, as if she deemed their mistakes too stupid to even care about correcting them. And each time she did, Ron made a face a Harry that made him want to burst out laughing every time. He tried to control it though. He felt a little guilty about shutting the bushy-haired girl out. But she could be so irritating at times that he forgot his sympathy for her.

"Well, what have you got for me today?" Miss Sullivan addressed all three of them with a smile, expecting a full report on the different kinds of leaves that could be found in the area in the fall. Ron's ears turned scarlet once more as he closely examined his shoelaces. Harry settled for the apologetic smile he'd come to get used to.

"It's all here, Miss Sullivan." Hermione volunteered. She'd pulled out what looked like a photo album from her bag and handed it to the teacher.

Miss Sullivan 'ooohed' and 'aaaaahed' at every sheet of paper she turned, impressed by the variety of shapes and colours of the leaves and the detailed descriptions and information that accompanied them.

"This is the best I've seen until now, Hermione!" Miss Sullivan said as she handed back the album. "You must've put a lot of thought and work into this. Did you get help?" She asked, suspecting the helping hand of a generous family member.

"We all put in our best efforts." Hermione stated as she stared fixedly at the two silent boys, urging them to play along.

Ron looked bewildered and taken off guard. He only managed to mumble something unintelligible. Harry on the other hand was quicker to catch on.

"Y-yes." He managed to say with some conviction. "We collected a lot of them in the park near…where I live." He found he couldn't say the words 'my house' or 'my home'.

Miss Sullivan nodded approvingly, not seeming to doubt her students. Or maybe Hermione's reputation among the teachers was just so good every word from her mouth would be accepted unquestioningly.

"Whoa…uh…th-thanks, Hermione." Ron stuttered as they exited the classroom when the end-of-the-day bell rang.

"Yeah." Harry agreed timidly. "You saved us."

Hermione only responded with a slightly condescending smile. But the boys took it gratefully. At least, she made no comment about their 'dreadful inability' or their 'lack of academic motivation', both of which Ron still could not pronounce properly.

They walked side by side through the halls, when a sharp and cold voice suddenly stopped them in their tracks.

"Oh, if it isn't it Mr. Potter?"


Ooooh, who will our mystery person be? I wonder ;D