The Façade of the Truth
Chapter 6 - Two New Acquaintances
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A weak light shone through the parting in the red curtains, making Harry pull back his Gryffindor hangings and look around. The winter light had illuminated the room. Almost three months had passed since Harry's talk with Severus Snape and his father; the boy still looked after the picture of his father, but he had forgotten about the crumpled bit of parchment his teacher had given him.
Everyone else must have left the dormitory. The sheets on Ron's bed had been neatly made, and everyone else had left their beds unmade. Harry took another look around the room before jumping out of bed, grabbing some clean robes and running into the bathroom.
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"Really, Ron, I would expect better of you. You know what Harry's like these days, he-" Hermione was cut short in her sentence as Harry strolled into the empty Common Room. He looked at his two friends, who must have been conversing over him.
"Hi Harry," his red-haired friend said. "We were just-"
"Taking about me?" the boy-who-lived replied, smiling slightly as he sat down.
"Are you coming down to the Great Hall to wait, Harry?" Hermione asked slowly, sitting up and heading towards the portrait door. Ron followed her.
The boy shook his head.
"No - I'll be down in a minute. Don't wait for me," he replied.
They both nodded and left the Common Room, leaving their friend quite alone. But he didn't mind - he had just felt in his pockets and found a crumpled piece of parchment. Knowing what it was, he waited until his friends had left him alone before taking off the green ribbon and opening the package. A lump appeared in Harry's throat as he read what the parchment said.
'Bude, Cornwall.'
An address? Why had Snape given Harry an address? It didn't sound like a wizarding area. Then, a thought struck him. At the time Snape gave Harry the address, they were talking about James Potter, weren't they?
It seemed like hours that Harry stared at the parchment clutched in his hand. He knew where Cornwall was - Uncle Vernon had once gone there with Dudley, leaving Petunia alone with her nephew. But Bude - where was Bude?
Part of him grew angry at the thought of his father leaving him. Why hadn't he contacted Harry and said something? Didn't he want anything to do with the boy?
He pondered on the question for a few minutes, when he was interrupted by a loud bang coming from the boys' dormitories. He looked up in mild irritation, before putting the parchment back in his pocket and getting up slowly, meaning to walk up the staircase.
He reached his own dormitory, and Errol, the Post Owl, was lying flat down on the floor, with a message tied to its leg.
"Stupid bird," Harry muttered, before walking over to the bird and picking it up gently. "What am I going to do with you? Your owner should've gotten rid of you ages ago."
The bird cooed softly.
He sighed in defeat, and took the message from the owl's outstretched foot. Just as he was about to open the silver ribbon that was tied around the semi-green parchment, a shrill voice echoed throughout the dormitories, and Hermione's head appeared in the doorway.
"Hello Harry. Just to say that you're going to be late for Breakfast if you don't hurry up. Come on Harry."
She walked out, leaving a befuddled Harry and a tired Errol looking at her retreating back.
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As he walked down to Breakfast with a crowd of people, he noticed that posters lined the stone walls, but as his party were going so quickly, it didn't register to him that Professor Snape was on the front of every single one. It was only when Hermione pointed them out, however, that he raised an eyebrow.
"Why on earth is he around the school, Hermione?" Harry asked, earning a dark glance from Ron.
"I dunno Harry - maybe he just wants his presence known?" Ron replied.
"How odd," The boy muttered to himself, clearly not expecting it. "Hermione, you should know!" He put his hands into his robe pocket, fumbled around, and felt a piece of parchment. Then, as he came to terms with what it was, a thought struck him.
"I don't know Ha-" Hermione was cut off from saying the rest of her sentence as she watched Harry leave the crowd and go off in a different direction. "Harry, where are you going?" she called.
The boy turned around and looked at her, without stopping.
"I'll be back in a minute! Don't wait for me!" he cried.
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"For the last time, Mr Potter, please be quiet!"
Harry was sitting at one of the desks in the library, pouring over some books he had picked out in hope of finding information about Bude. So far, he hadn't had any luck, so he kept knocking his hand against his table in frustration. Madame Pince wasn't very happy about it.
He looked out of the window behind him. The sun was at its highest point in the sky, indicating that it was afternoon. But even though the boy's stomach grumbled with hunger, he wasn't going to give in. He had to find where Bude was.
The library doors swung open again, making the boy look to see who had entered. This time, it was a very worried-looking Hermione.
"Harry!" she exclaimed, when she saw the books her friend was reading. "Harry - have I been a good influence on you?" She stepped towards him and sat opposite her friend, although the boy-who-lived just looked back at the books and didn't say anything.
"We were so worried, Harry. We waited in the Great Hall at breakfast, but you didn't come! It's not often that you come in the library - whatever's the matter?"
Harry looked up from the page he was reading.
"Do you really want to know?" he asked through grinded teeth.
"Well - yes."
The boy sighed irritably.
"I'm looking for a map of England. You know - with all the counties and stuff."
"What ever do you need a map of England for, Harry? Can't you find your way?"
"Listen, all right, do you have a map with towns on? I need one now. You go into the Library often - where are they all?"
"You won't find any in here. You'll have to go to a muggle library. But then - you could just ask me!"
Harry sighed again.
"Where's Bude? I mean, I know it's in Cornwall, but I need to know where."
"You've got a lot to learn, Harry."
- * -* -* -* -* -*
'Well, this is it,' Harry thought determinedly as he got off a bus and looked around at his surroundings in the near darkness. He had said a quick goodbye to Hermione and Ron before leaving, telling them that he wasn't going to be long and wanted to go on a short walk around the school grounds. Then, while he was on the train, travelling down to London, he remembered that he had forgotten all his school supplies. Luckily, he brought some galleons with him to change it into muggle money.
He was by a canal, he knew that much - he could also make out a 'Lloyd's Bank' to his left and a dowdy pub across the road from him, but the rest of the places (except the road going up the hill on the right of Lloyds Bank) were in shadow and it was because of this that Harry dared not to go any further until he knew where he was.
As if by magic, an old lady appeared from behind the tatty bus station with a large tartan bag. It was either now, or never.
"Excuse me?" Harry said aloud, causing the grey haired lady to stare up at him and narrow her eyes slightly. She said nothing, so Harry decided that he should continue.
"Is it possible for you to tell me where I am?" he asked politely, wrapping his arms around himself and wishing that he had brought a jumper with him. She looked up at him with a sour face.
"'Yur in 'Bood," she replied darkly in a croaky voice.
"Well, that's good. I don't suppose you could tell me where in Bude I am?" he asked, noticing her eyes widen in surprise as he spoke.
"Ey, yur not from 'round 'ere - are ya? Yur from up 'fere," she spoke in a harsh tone and pointed up to the sky with her free left arm - causing Harry to lift an eyebrow and cough slightly.
"No, I'm not. I would just like to know how I could get to a place called Primrose Road."
The woman seemed to take this as an insult - for she looked disgusted and then preceded to spit on Harry's white trainers.
After Harry grimaced and stepped back disgustingly, a smug look appeared on her wrinkly face and she then folded her arms.
"That's fur yur cheek, young lad. Whee, when I wis a lass, you young'ins had mur respect fur yur elders,"
Harry frowned, smiled a mocking smile and then walked off into the darkness.
After asking people he met on the way up the road as to where he was supposed to be going- he walked up a tall hill, passing a large secondary school and a place called 'Safeway' on his journey.
He leant against a lamppost - and was so caught up in his musings that he didn't notice someone poke him in the back and a dog growl from behind him.
A thin black haired boy was standing near him, one hand holding a large, black lead. He looked around the same age as Harry, although his clothes were muddy and ripped. The boy-who-lived looked back down at the lead and noticed the large Alsatian that was barring its teeth at him.
"Hi - my name's Steven," the boy said casually, holding out his hand for Harry to shake.
He shook it slowly.
"I'm Harry - Harry Potter."
All of a sudden, the boy named Steven put his free arm around Harry's neck tightly and lead him back up the road he had just come up, heading towards Safeway again.
"Now, looks like I've never seen you round here before, so I'm gonna teach you a few tricks. Ya see, 'cos you're new, I'm going to show you how to fit in, if you like," he said casually, his voice trailing off.
They walked up the road, into a carpark and through two automatic doors with a sign saying 'entrance', but not before Steven tied the dog's lead to one of the brick supports. Harry was glad to be in the warmth again - the cold night air had started to sting his skin. It was only when they arrived in the actual supermarket that Steven let go of his neck.
"Right, you have to follow me on this one, mate. You see, what you've gotta do, is follow me and do what I say, got it?"
Before Harry could respond, Steven took his wrist and pulled him down a long aisle, which led to the others, where many people were bustling about with baskets and trolleys, shopping. They eventually came to an aisle with packets of sweets - muggle sweets, and Harry had forgotten about those. He was used to Chocolate frogs and Fizzing Whizbees.
Immediately, Steven opened his thick jacket, took a large packet of sweets of the shelf and stuffed it into one of his pockets, but not before looking at Harry.
"Right, mate, when I say run, we run, got it?" he asked.
The second boy nodded, not really having any thing to say in the matter. Steven began walking towards the end of the aisle, and someone in a uniform, clearly a member of staff who was stacking the shelves, saw him.
"Hey, kid!" he cried, dropping some items and lunging for the boy. "Give those back!"
"RUN!" Steven yelled.
They ran down the aisle, down another one, up one with fruit and, eventually, through the main doors, setting the alarms off. People stared at the both of them, and members of staff ran after the two boys.
Once outside, Steven hid behind one of the brick supports, beckoning for Harry to follow him. They hid behind it, hoping that the two members of staff who had been following them were not going to discover them. Silence followed after a while, and the two boys knew that they had gone away, so they crept out from behind the bricks and untied the dog.
"Why'd you do that?" Harry asked, as he watched the boy They didn't stop running until they got back to the 'Elizabeth Road', where Harry had met Steven a few minutes ago. The muggle opened his jacket again and pulled out a torch, lighting the ground with it. It was then that Harry realised that they were on a housing estate - a large one, with a small field to the left and houses in front and on the right. The two boys were standing on a deserted pavement with a road next to them.
"Excuse me," Harry said quietly, making Steven look directly at him with great satisfaction.
"Just call me Steve," he replied, grinning.
"Right, Steve. Could you tell me if I'm far from a place called 'Primrose Road'?"
They walked a little bit further down the pavement, and Steven didn't reply. Eventually, they came to the edge of the field and turned a corner. More houses could be seen, and the new boy waved his torch in front of a small sign saying 'Primrose Road'.
"There's your answer, mate," he said happily. "Come on - I live down this road. I'll show you my house."
Harry's heart was in his throat as they walked down the dusty, deserted pavement. The dark sky was no longer an inky blue, but a dark black. The stars glittered in the sky like thousands of tiny lights, and the moon hung above them both. Someone was sitting on the pathway of their house, drinking something out of a chipped mug, and a light was illuminating a room in another house, showing the people who were arguing inside.
They crossed the road and went up some steps leading to a house with brick walls. The porch was littered with bits of rubbish, and the bars that surrounded the home were dented in some places. The kitchen light was switched on.
"This is my house," Steven said happily. He walked over to the door, knocked twice and a shrill scream could be heard from within.
"BOY! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"
The door swung open, and a woman appeared in a cotton nightgown. Her hair was black and curly, and she had long, red earrings. She looked angry.
"Hi mum," the new boy said casually, his hands sunk in his pockets.
"And who's this, Steven?" the woman said, slight anger in her voice. She gave Harry a confused glance, and then she spotted the Alsatian. "That mutt is not coming into the house, Steve! I want you to take it back to Glenda - and no, you're not keeping it!"
The boy looked slightly disappointed, but handed the lead to his mother. "This is Harry - he's my new mate. Says he's not from around here. I'll take the dog back in a minute, but first, I have to show my new mate my room."
"Very well - bring him in, but he's not staying for tea!"
She allowed the two boys to pass, and the Harry noticed that the house was very warm. Harry appeared to be standing in the hall, and a staircase stood next to him, which went up to the second floor. Directly in front of them was the living room, and a Christmas tree was visible.
"Well, I'll show you my room, ok?"
They walked up the stairs and onto the landing, where the carpet was bright orange, and a door to the left of them was ajar. Steven walked over to it and knocked loudly.
"Hailey, are you in there? Come out and meet my new friend, or I'll come in your room and-"
"Go away!" A high-pitched voice from inside yelled. "Don't come in, or I'll tell on you!"
Steven turned round to face Harry and grinned.
"Don't worry, this ain't my room. That's just my little sister. Come on, down here."
Harry was starting to feel tired - his mind was racing, and he wanted to know where his father was. But he was lead down the hall and into another room, and when Steven switched on his light, he could see there was a blue cupboard right behind the door. There was a metal bed at the other end of the room, with a blue quilt, and the walls were a bright yellow, matching the curtains that covered the window.
"So, Steven, how old is your sister?" Harry asked, not really knowing why he was in the house. He wanted to leave, to find his father and talk to him.
"She's ten, and believe me, she's a complete nightmare!"
Steven walked over to his bed and sat down, making the mattress stoop slightly under his weight. He looked around the room, and Harry then noticed the sofa bed against the wall opposite the window.
"Sit down," the other boy said sharply, throwing his coat onto the bed. It sounded more like a command than a question.
The boy-who-lived sat himself down on the yellow settee and sighed deeply.
"Uh, Steve?" he began slowly.
"Yeah?"
"You wouldn't happen to know anyone who, well, has round glasses and black hair, would you?"
Steven gave a slight chuckle and leant against his metal headboard.
"Only you, mate."
These words said it all for Harry - maybe James couldn't be alive. If Steven lived in the same area, and he didn't know anyone with that description, how could the man be alive? His heart sank, and he began crumpling the parchment still in his pocket, not knowing why he was doing so. It was all a joke - a mean, cruel joke. He had travelled across England in hope of finding his father, only to discover that it was a waste of time. Had Lucius given him the address in hope of bringing the boy out of Hogwarts, where it was safe, to where Voldemort had access to him?
A bark from downstairs and a woman's screech pulled him out of his unhappy thoughts.
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Steven and a very grief stricken Harry walked onto the large, paved area with around nine houses surrounding it.
"Come on, Hooch!" yelled a female voice in front of them.
"Hi, Glenda!" Steven bellowed back.
A middle-aged woman was standing by the wall of her own house a little way ahead of them. She had short, brown hair, brown eyes and a warm smile. The Alsatian that Steven was with began barking madly and ran over to her.
The two boys made their way to the house, and once on the path, the muggle began talking to the owner of the house.
"Who's your new friend?" Glenda asked.
"Oh, this is Harry. He's looking for a person round here, I think."
"That right, son?"
Harry stared at the woman and nodded.
"You're not my mother," he replied quietly.
The other two began to laugh.
"I didn't mean that, boy," she replied, stroking the dog in front of her.
The other two began talking again, and Harry continued to look around him, the cold air starting to sting his sore neck.
Then, a red car drove up the road, its lights on full beam, and parked in front of the house to the left of them. The door of the house opened, and a woman stepped out. Her brown hair was tied back, but a few curly strands hung down over her shoulders. Two children, both small girls, followed her into the car, and the horn hooted twice. A man, with ear-length white hair and pale skin, ran out of the house, locked the door and also ran into the car. Then, once the door was shut, it drove off.
Harry thought that none of this concerned him, but it all happened to fast that it felt odd.
"Well, goodnight then, Steve. Hope to see you tomorrow."
"Bye Glenda."
Steven began making his way back to his own house, whistling for Harry to follow.
"C'mon, mate!" he cried.
Harry still stared into the darkness where the car had driven, sighed, and followed Steven down the brick road.
"Who was that?" he asked slowly.
"Who? Glenda? She's my mate."
"No, that bloke who just got into that red car and drove off with three other people."
Steven stopped dead in his tracks.
"Oh, you mean him!" he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That's my mate. Tomorrow, I can let you meet my other mate, Billy."
He began walking down the road again, and Harry ran after him.
"You have a lot of mates, don't you?" he said irritably. "But I was wondering what that man's name was, you know? It seems a bit strange how he just got into that car and drove off -"
"I think his name's Smith - Jonathan Smith."
"Isn't that a bit odd?"
"No, he's an old guy."
"What I'm trying to say, Steve, is it's almost as if the name's been chosen. I mean, John Smith?"
"Yeah? What about it? Listen, I don't know much about the guy. He came here a couple of years ago with the rest of his family and I haven't heard anything else. Do you expect me to know every single person in Bude?" Steven asked, sighing exasperatedly
"Well, it certainly seems like you do. Besides, I thought he was your mate?"
"His son is."
They walked the rest of the way to the house in silence without making eye contact. Steven's mother greeted him angrily when he arrived, saying that the police had been round to question him. Harry decided to leave them there, as he really had nothing to do with the whole affair and needed to get a train back to King's Cross Station.
He walked into the almost deserted town, now feeling extremely tired and lifeless. His hands were numb with the cold, and he had nowhere to sleep.
'I should have stayed with Steven. I suppose he would have let me stay,' he thought, as he sat himself down on one of the benches by the canal.
He watched as a seagull flew down low over the water and back into the night sky, clearly going to its own nest somewhere in the distance. A few people with carrier bags walked passed him, but he ignored them. Then, someone sat down next to him, put their white carrier bag onto the pavement and began looking through it, as if searching for someone. The person muttered a quiet swear word and looked at Harry vaguely.
His dark brown, untidy hair fell over his hazel eyes, and his skin was quite pale. He bit down on his bottom lip and watched as someone went past him. He gave a curious expression before talking to the boy next to him.
"Sorry to bother you," he said in a casual accent, "but I was just wondering if you had seen a ring of keys lying anywhere? I seem to have lost mine, you see, and I can't get into the house without them." His speech was very precise, and he kept eye contact with Harry all the while.
"No, sorry."
The boy uttered another swear word and continued to look through his 'Safeway' carrier bag.
"Won't your parents let you in?" Harry asked, after watching the boy struggle.
"Alas, they've gone on holiday." He gave a slight chuckle. "Told me I had to get some groceries before they left, and now I've lost the keys. They can't trust me; really, I can be so clumsy sometimes. Dad says I get it off mum."
He gazed up into the sky for a while, smiling, leaving Harry staring at him strangely, as if he was something from another planet. Then, all of a sudden, the boy stared at him and gasped.
"See? Stupid me - I can't believe I forgot to introduce myself." He held out his hand. "My name's Mark Foster. I'm fourteen. What about you?"
"I'm Harry - Harry Potter. I'm sixteen."
"I've heard that name somewhere before." He laughed quietly. "Oh yeah, Potter's the garbage man who comes round here, collecting our waste. What are your parents' names? I have to tell you that your father owes my dad a lot of money."
Harry sighed deeply.
"I don't have any parents," he said quietly. It was harder for him to have thought, for a couple of weeks, that James could have been alive, but he wasn't. It was like the first time he found out that they had been murdered. He had this empty feeling inside of him again.
He could see a sudden look of sympathy on Mark's kind face and shook his head.
"Don't worry about it - I never knew them anyway. Lots of people have given me sympathy over it, and it's nice of them, but I don't want it."
Mark nodded.
"I don't know what I'd do without my parents. I wish you could meet them, you know - understand what it's like. Anyway, I better be off. I've got to go and find my keys."
He got off the wooden bench and picked up his carrier bag, his gaze not leaving Harry's. He had a very penetrating stare.
"Listen, Henry, do you want to come back to our house? No one's in, but maybe you can help me find a way to break the door down - that is, if you want to."
Harry gaped at him.
"Did you just call me Henry?" he asked.
"Yup - didn't you know Harry's a pet form of Henry? Dad told me a few years ago."
Harry pondered on this for a minute, but soon pushed it to the back of his mind and smiled slightly at the boy in front of him.
"Okay then, I'd love to."
About half an hour later, Harry was back up at Primrose Road and was walking up the same hill that Stephen had walked him up earlier on.
Mark almost skipped over to the house where the white-haired man had come out of almost an hour ago - and by the time Harry had reached him, the other boy was swearing like a trooper under his breath.
"Stupid.stupid man.oh, hello Harry," the boy then noticed that Harry was looking at him bemusedly and with a slight grin on his face.
"What?" Harry asked, choosing not to hide the smile that he felt appear on his face at the younger boy's wide vocabulary.
"My stupid Grandfather left the stupid house keys in the stupid keyhole in the middle of the stupid night," Mark muttered gruffly, holding up a set of five keys on a ring under the orange lamppost so that Harry could see.
Harry was quite sure he had never heard so many 'stupids' in one sentence.
"Listen.they haven't been taken - so that's a good thing, isn't it?" Harry asked warily, noticing the boy look down at a shadow of a rose bush by the door.
He swore again.
"Stupid man! He hasn't even bothered to water the stu-"
"Please!" Harry said suddenly. "Say something other than 'stupid'! It's going to drive me batty."
Mark grinned slightly, and then unlocked the door and motioned for Harry to follow him into the dark house.
The boy switched on the hall's light while Harry shut the large, plastic green door.
When he turned, he noticed that the staircase was on the right - and the kitchen (where some more colourful words were coming from) was on he left.
He walked through the doorway and into the kitchen, to where a collection of strange and colourful ornaments (including a collection of artistic plates) could be seen on a large wooden bookcase - half of the large kitchen was covered in shelving and cupboards (a fridge which was currently open was next to the cupboard), while the other half had a six place wooden dining table.
Mark turned around from doing whatever he was doing by the sink, and smiled slightly at Harry.
"You can come in, you know. My dad has all sorts of strange people in here all the time, so I'm used to seeing strangers in here. Tea, coffee or orange juice?" Mark finished, holding a jug of water and looked at his newfound friend who was standing by the door. He walked over to the fridge and opened it. "Or some yellow milk that's been left at the back of the fridge for a couple of months?"
"Shouldn't you carry on with packing away your shopping?" Harry asked, his gaze shifting to the bag that was sitting on the table.
"No need to worry. It's only milk and bread and stuff - and by the time my parents come back, the milk will be growing mould on it," he said sarcastically, waving his hands about as if pushing Harry's question away.
"Then I'll have a milky tea, please," Harry replied, smiling as the younger lad smiled back.
"Sugar?" And because Harry shook his head, he just smiled slightly and put two teaspoons of brown sugar into his own chipped mug.
"Go and sit down in the living room, Harry. I'll just finish the shopping and then I'll bring it in. Watch the TV or something," Mark continued, pouring some milk into the both of the cups. "I'm sure dad's fixed it since he fell over it and almost set the house on fire."
Harry walked into the adjoining room - where two large creamy white plush sofas and a winged back chair were sat firmly around a large glass coffee table, and a large black television was on the far end of the room.
To Harry's right were a collection of photographs and a small computer set just behind the door - he turned to look at some of the family pictures, and saw various poses of the family.
One man caught his eye, however - he had dark blonde hair down to his lower ear, and a cold smile that didn't quite reach his dark silver eyes.
That piercing look.it caused something to stir in the back of Harry's tired mind.as if the person in the portrait was pulling at some nerves in the back of his head and enjoyed causing Harry to become very confused and slightly dazed.
Harry jumped as he felt warm breath on the back of his neck and someone tap him on his right shoulder blade.
"That's my dad," he heard Mark say happily, before he was passed a slightly chipped mug with a rude picture on it. "And that's his mug."
Harry blushed slightly, and smiled before he was pulled over to sit in one of the creamy sofas.
X-X-X-X
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Chapter 6 - Two New Acquaintances
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A weak light shone through the parting in the red curtains, making Harry pull back his Gryffindor hangings and look around. The winter light had illuminated the room. Almost three months had passed since Harry's talk with Severus Snape and his father; the boy still looked after the picture of his father, but he had forgotten about the crumpled bit of parchment his teacher had given him.
Everyone else must have left the dormitory. The sheets on Ron's bed had been neatly made, and everyone else had left their beds unmade. Harry took another look around the room before jumping out of bed, grabbing some clean robes and running into the bathroom.
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"Really, Ron, I would expect better of you. You know what Harry's like these days, he-" Hermione was cut short in her sentence as Harry strolled into the empty Common Room. He looked at his two friends, who must have been conversing over him.
"Hi Harry," his red-haired friend said. "We were just-"
"Taking about me?" the boy-who-lived replied, smiling slightly as he sat down.
"Are you coming down to the Great Hall to wait, Harry?" Hermione asked slowly, sitting up and heading towards the portrait door. Ron followed her.
The boy shook his head.
"No - I'll be down in a minute. Don't wait for me," he replied.
They both nodded and left the Common Room, leaving their friend quite alone. But he didn't mind - he had just felt in his pockets and found a crumpled piece of parchment. Knowing what it was, he waited until his friends had left him alone before taking off the green ribbon and opening the package. A lump appeared in Harry's throat as he read what the parchment said.
'Bude, Cornwall.'
An address? Why had Snape given Harry an address? It didn't sound like a wizarding area. Then, a thought struck him. At the time Snape gave Harry the address, they were talking about James Potter, weren't they?
It seemed like hours that Harry stared at the parchment clutched in his hand. He knew where Cornwall was - Uncle Vernon had once gone there with Dudley, leaving Petunia alone with her nephew. But Bude - where was Bude?
Part of him grew angry at the thought of his father leaving him. Why hadn't he contacted Harry and said something? Didn't he want anything to do with the boy?
He pondered on the question for a few minutes, when he was interrupted by a loud bang coming from the boys' dormitories. He looked up in mild irritation, before putting the parchment back in his pocket and getting up slowly, meaning to walk up the staircase.
He reached his own dormitory, and Errol, the Post Owl, was lying flat down on the floor, with a message tied to its leg.
"Stupid bird," Harry muttered, before walking over to the bird and picking it up gently. "What am I going to do with you? Your owner should've gotten rid of you ages ago."
The bird cooed softly.
He sighed in defeat, and took the message from the owl's outstretched foot. Just as he was about to open the silver ribbon that was tied around the semi-green parchment, a shrill voice echoed throughout the dormitories, and Hermione's head appeared in the doorway.
"Hello Harry. Just to say that you're going to be late for Breakfast if you don't hurry up. Come on Harry."
She walked out, leaving a befuddled Harry and a tired Errol looking at her retreating back.
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As he walked down to Breakfast with a crowd of people, he noticed that posters lined the stone walls, but as his party were going so quickly, it didn't register to him that Professor Snape was on the front of every single one. It was only when Hermione pointed them out, however, that he raised an eyebrow.
"Why on earth is he around the school, Hermione?" Harry asked, earning a dark glance from Ron.
"I dunno Harry - maybe he just wants his presence known?" Ron replied.
"How odd," The boy muttered to himself, clearly not expecting it. "Hermione, you should know!" He put his hands into his robe pocket, fumbled around, and felt a piece of parchment. Then, as he came to terms with what it was, a thought struck him.
"I don't know Ha-" Hermione was cut off from saying the rest of her sentence as she watched Harry leave the crowd and go off in a different direction. "Harry, where are you going?" she called.
The boy turned around and looked at her, without stopping.
"I'll be back in a minute! Don't wait for me!" he cried.
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"For the last time, Mr Potter, please be quiet!"
Harry was sitting at one of the desks in the library, pouring over some books he had picked out in hope of finding information about Bude. So far, he hadn't had any luck, so he kept knocking his hand against his table in frustration. Madame Pince wasn't very happy about it.
He looked out of the window behind him. The sun was at its highest point in the sky, indicating that it was afternoon. But even though the boy's stomach grumbled with hunger, he wasn't going to give in. He had to find where Bude was.
The library doors swung open again, making the boy look to see who had entered. This time, it was a very worried-looking Hermione.
"Harry!" she exclaimed, when she saw the books her friend was reading. "Harry - have I been a good influence on you?" She stepped towards him and sat opposite her friend, although the boy-who-lived just looked back at the books and didn't say anything.
"We were so worried, Harry. We waited in the Great Hall at breakfast, but you didn't come! It's not often that you come in the library - whatever's the matter?"
Harry looked up from the page he was reading.
"Do you really want to know?" he asked through grinded teeth.
"Well - yes."
The boy sighed irritably.
"I'm looking for a map of England. You know - with all the counties and stuff."
"What ever do you need a map of England for, Harry? Can't you find your way?"
"Listen, all right, do you have a map with towns on? I need one now. You go into the Library often - where are they all?"
"You won't find any in here. You'll have to go to a muggle library. But then - you could just ask me!"
Harry sighed again.
"Where's Bude? I mean, I know it's in Cornwall, but I need to know where."
"You've got a lot to learn, Harry."
- * -* -* -* -* -*
'Well, this is it,' Harry thought determinedly as he got off a bus and looked around at his surroundings in the near darkness. He had said a quick goodbye to Hermione and Ron before leaving, telling them that he wasn't going to be long and wanted to go on a short walk around the school grounds. Then, while he was on the train, travelling down to London, he remembered that he had forgotten all his school supplies. Luckily, he brought some galleons with him to change it into muggle money.
He was by a canal, he knew that much - he could also make out a 'Lloyd's Bank' to his left and a dowdy pub across the road from him, but the rest of the places (except the road going up the hill on the right of Lloyds Bank) were in shadow and it was because of this that Harry dared not to go any further until he knew where he was.
As if by magic, an old lady appeared from behind the tatty bus station with a large tartan bag. It was either now, or never.
"Excuse me?" Harry said aloud, causing the grey haired lady to stare up at him and narrow her eyes slightly. She said nothing, so Harry decided that he should continue.
"Is it possible for you to tell me where I am?" he asked politely, wrapping his arms around himself and wishing that he had brought a jumper with him. She looked up at him with a sour face.
"'Yur in 'Bood," she replied darkly in a croaky voice.
"Well, that's good. I don't suppose you could tell me where in Bude I am?" he asked, noticing her eyes widen in surprise as he spoke.
"Ey, yur not from 'round 'ere - are ya? Yur from up 'fere," she spoke in a harsh tone and pointed up to the sky with her free left arm - causing Harry to lift an eyebrow and cough slightly.
"No, I'm not. I would just like to know how I could get to a place called Primrose Road."
The woman seemed to take this as an insult - for she looked disgusted and then preceded to spit on Harry's white trainers.
After Harry grimaced and stepped back disgustingly, a smug look appeared on her wrinkly face and she then folded her arms.
"That's fur yur cheek, young lad. Whee, when I wis a lass, you young'ins had mur respect fur yur elders,"
Harry frowned, smiled a mocking smile and then walked off into the darkness.
After asking people he met on the way up the road as to where he was supposed to be going- he walked up a tall hill, passing a large secondary school and a place called 'Safeway' on his journey.
He leant against a lamppost - and was so caught up in his musings that he didn't notice someone poke him in the back and a dog growl from behind him.
A thin black haired boy was standing near him, one hand holding a large, black lead. He looked around the same age as Harry, although his clothes were muddy and ripped. The boy-who-lived looked back down at the lead and noticed the large Alsatian that was barring its teeth at him.
"Hi - my name's Steven," the boy said casually, holding out his hand for Harry to shake.
He shook it slowly.
"I'm Harry - Harry Potter."
All of a sudden, the boy named Steven put his free arm around Harry's neck tightly and lead him back up the road he had just come up, heading towards Safeway again.
"Now, looks like I've never seen you round here before, so I'm gonna teach you a few tricks. Ya see, 'cos you're new, I'm going to show you how to fit in, if you like," he said casually, his voice trailing off.
They walked up the road, into a carpark and through two automatic doors with a sign saying 'entrance', but not before Steven tied the dog's lead to one of the brick supports. Harry was glad to be in the warmth again - the cold night air had started to sting his skin. It was only when they arrived in the actual supermarket that Steven let go of his neck.
"Right, you have to follow me on this one, mate. You see, what you've gotta do, is follow me and do what I say, got it?"
Before Harry could respond, Steven took his wrist and pulled him down a long aisle, which led to the others, where many people were bustling about with baskets and trolleys, shopping. They eventually came to an aisle with packets of sweets - muggle sweets, and Harry had forgotten about those. He was used to Chocolate frogs and Fizzing Whizbees.
Immediately, Steven opened his thick jacket, took a large packet of sweets of the shelf and stuffed it into one of his pockets, but not before looking at Harry.
"Right, mate, when I say run, we run, got it?" he asked.
The second boy nodded, not really having any thing to say in the matter. Steven began walking towards the end of the aisle, and someone in a uniform, clearly a member of staff who was stacking the shelves, saw him.
"Hey, kid!" he cried, dropping some items and lunging for the boy. "Give those back!"
"RUN!" Steven yelled.
They ran down the aisle, down another one, up one with fruit and, eventually, through the main doors, setting the alarms off. People stared at the both of them, and members of staff ran after the two boys.
Once outside, Steven hid behind one of the brick supports, beckoning for Harry to follow him. They hid behind it, hoping that the two members of staff who had been following them were not going to discover them. Silence followed after a while, and the two boys knew that they had gone away, so they crept out from behind the bricks and untied the dog.
"Why'd you do that?" Harry asked, as he watched the boy They didn't stop running until they got back to the 'Elizabeth Road', where Harry had met Steven a few minutes ago. The muggle opened his jacket again and pulled out a torch, lighting the ground with it. It was then that Harry realised that they were on a housing estate - a large one, with a small field to the left and houses in front and on the right. The two boys were standing on a deserted pavement with a road next to them.
"Excuse me," Harry said quietly, making Steven look directly at him with great satisfaction.
"Just call me Steve," he replied, grinning.
"Right, Steve. Could you tell me if I'm far from a place called 'Primrose Road'?"
They walked a little bit further down the pavement, and Steven didn't reply. Eventually, they came to the edge of the field and turned a corner. More houses could be seen, and the new boy waved his torch in front of a small sign saying 'Primrose Road'.
"There's your answer, mate," he said happily. "Come on - I live down this road. I'll show you my house."
Harry's heart was in his throat as they walked down the dusty, deserted pavement. The dark sky was no longer an inky blue, but a dark black. The stars glittered in the sky like thousands of tiny lights, and the moon hung above them both. Someone was sitting on the pathway of their house, drinking something out of a chipped mug, and a light was illuminating a room in another house, showing the people who were arguing inside.
They crossed the road and went up some steps leading to a house with brick walls. The porch was littered with bits of rubbish, and the bars that surrounded the home were dented in some places. The kitchen light was switched on.
"This is my house," Steven said happily. He walked over to the door, knocked twice and a shrill scream could be heard from within.
"BOY! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"
The door swung open, and a woman appeared in a cotton nightgown. Her hair was black and curly, and she had long, red earrings. She looked angry.
"Hi mum," the new boy said casually, his hands sunk in his pockets.
"And who's this, Steven?" the woman said, slight anger in her voice. She gave Harry a confused glance, and then she spotted the Alsatian. "That mutt is not coming into the house, Steve! I want you to take it back to Glenda - and no, you're not keeping it!"
The boy looked slightly disappointed, but handed the lead to his mother. "This is Harry - he's my new mate. Says he's not from around here. I'll take the dog back in a minute, but first, I have to show my new mate my room."
"Very well - bring him in, but he's not staying for tea!"
She allowed the two boys to pass, and the Harry noticed that the house was very warm. Harry appeared to be standing in the hall, and a staircase stood next to him, which went up to the second floor. Directly in front of them was the living room, and a Christmas tree was visible.
"Well, I'll show you my room, ok?"
They walked up the stairs and onto the landing, where the carpet was bright orange, and a door to the left of them was ajar. Steven walked over to it and knocked loudly.
"Hailey, are you in there? Come out and meet my new friend, or I'll come in your room and-"
"Go away!" A high-pitched voice from inside yelled. "Don't come in, or I'll tell on you!"
Steven turned round to face Harry and grinned.
"Don't worry, this ain't my room. That's just my little sister. Come on, down here."
Harry was starting to feel tired - his mind was racing, and he wanted to know where his father was. But he was lead down the hall and into another room, and when Steven switched on his light, he could see there was a blue cupboard right behind the door. There was a metal bed at the other end of the room, with a blue quilt, and the walls were a bright yellow, matching the curtains that covered the window.
"So, Steven, how old is your sister?" Harry asked, not really knowing why he was in the house. He wanted to leave, to find his father and talk to him.
"She's ten, and believe me, she's a complete nightmare!"
Steven walked over to his bed and sat down, making the mattress stoop slightly under his weight. He looked around the room, and Harry then noticed the sofa bed against the wall opposite the window.
"Sit down," the other boy said sharply, throwing his coat onto the bed. It sounded more like a command than a question.
The boy-who-lived sat himself down on the yellow settee and sighed deeply.
"Uh, Steve?" he began slowly.
"Yeah?"
"You wouldn't happen to know anyone who, well, has round glasses and black hair, would you?"
Steven gave a slight chuckle and leant against his metal headboard.
"Only you, mate."
These words said it all for Harry - maybe James couldn't be alive. If Steven lived in the same area, and he didn't know anyone with that description, how could the man be alive? His heart sank, and he began crumpling the parchment still in his pocket, not knowing why he was doing so. It was all a joke - a mean, cruel joke. He had travelled across England in hope of finding his father, only to discover that it was a waste of time. Had Lucius given him the address in hope of bringing the boy out of Hogwarts, where it was safe, to where Voldemort had access to him?
A bark from downstairs and a woman's screech pulled him out of his unhappy thoughts.
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Steven and a very grief stricken Harry walked onto the large, paved area with around nine houses surrounding it.
"Come on, Hooch!" yelled a female voice in front of them.
"Hi, Glenda!" Steven bellowed back.
A middle-aged woman was standing by the wall of her own house a little way ahead of them. She had short, brown hair, brown eyes and a warm smile. The Alsatian that Steven was with began barking madly and ran over to her.
The two boys made their way to the house, and once on the path, the muggle began talking to the owner of the house.
"Who's your new friend?" Glenda asked.
"Oh, this is Harry. He's looking for a person round here, I think."
"That right, son?"
Harry stared at the woman and nodded.
"You're not my mother," he replied quietly.
The other two began to laugh.
"I didn't mean that, boy," she replied, stroking the dog in front of her.
The other two began talking again, and Harry continued to look around him, the cold air starting to sting his sore neck.
Then, a red car drove up the road, its lights on full beam, and parked in front of the house to the left of them. The door of the house opened, and a woman stepped out. Her brown hair was tied back, but a few curly strands hung down over her shoulders. Two children, both small girls, followed her into the car, and the horn hooted twice. A man, with ear-length white hair and pale skin, ran out of the house, locked the door and also ran into the car. Then, once the door was shut, it drove off.
Harry thought that none of this concerned him, but it all happened to fast that it felt odd.
"Well, goodnight then, Steve. Hope to see you tomorrow."
"Bye Glenda."
Steven began making his way back to his own house, whistling for Harry to follow.
"C'mon, mate!" he cried.
Harry still stared into the darkness where the car had driven, sighed, and followed Steven down the brick road.
"Who was that?" he asked slowly.
"Who? Glenda? She's my mate."
"No, that bloke who just got into that red car and drove off with three other people."
Steven stopped dead in his tracks.
"Oh, you mean him!" he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That's my mate. Tomorrow, I can let you meet my other mate, Billy."
He began walking down the road again, and Harry ran after him.
"You have a lot of mates, don't you?" he said irritably. "But I was wondering what that man's name was, you know? It seems a bit strange how he just got into that car and drove off -"
"I think his name's Smith - Jonathan Smith."
"Isn't that a bit odd?"
"No, he's an old guy."
"What I'm trying to say, Steve, is it's almost as if the name's been chosen. I mean, John Smith?"
"Yeah? What about it? Listen, I don't know much about the guy. He came here a couple of years ago with the rest of his family and I haven't heard anything else. Do you expect me to know every single person in Bude?" Steven asked, sighing exasperatedly
"Well, it certainly seems like you do. Besides, I thought he was your mate?"
"His son is."
They walked the rest of the way to the house in silence without making eye contact. Steven's mother greeted him angrily when he arrived, saying that the police had been round to question him. Harry decided to leave them there, as he really had nothing to do with the whole affair and needed to get a train back to King's Cross Station.
He walked into the almost deserted town, now feeling extremely tired and lifeless. His hands were numb with the cold, and he had nowhere to sleep.
'I should have stayed with Steven. I suppose he would have let me stay,' he thought, as he sat himself down on one of the benches by the canal.
He watched as a seagull flew down low over the water and back into the night sky, clearly going to its own nest somewhere in the distance. A few people with carrier bags walked passed him, but he ignored them. Then, someone sat down next to him, put their white carrier bag onto the pavement and began looking through it, as if searching for someone. The person muttered a quiet swear word and looked at Harry vaguely.
His dark brown, untidy hair fell over his hazel eyes, and his skin was quite pale. He bit down on his bottom lip and watched as someone went past him. He gave a curious expression before talking to the boy next to him.
"Sorry to bother you," he said in a casual accent, "but I was just wondering if you had seen a ring of keys lying anywhere? I seem to have lost mine, you see, and I can't get into the house without them." His speech was very precise, and he kept eye contact with Harry all the while.
"No, sorry."
The boy uttered another swear word and continued to look through his 'Safeway' carrier bag.
"Won't your parents let you in?" Harry asked, after watching the boy struggle.
"Alas, they've gone on holiday." He gave a slight chuckle. "Told me I had to get some groceries before they left, and now I've lost the keys. They can't trust me; really, I can be so clumsy sometimes. Dad says I get it off mum."
He gazed up into the sky for a while, smiling, leaving Harry staring at him strangely, as if he was something from another planet. Then, all of a sudden, the boy stared at him and gasped.
"See? Stupid me - I can't believe I forgot to introduce myself." He held out his hand. "My name's Mark Foster. I'm fourteen. What about you?"
"I'm Harry - Harry Potter. I'm sixteen."
"I've heard that name somewhere before." He laughed quietly. "Oh yeah, Potter's the garbage man who comes round here, collecting our waste. What are your parents' names? I have to tell you that your father owes my dad a lot of money."
Harry sighed deeply.
"I don't have any parents," he said quietly. It was harder for him to have thought, for a couple of weeks, that James could have been alive, but he wasn't. It was like the first time he found out that they had been murdered. He had this empty feeling inside of him again.
He could see a sudden look of sympathy on Mark's kind face and shook his head.
"Don't worry about it - I never knew them anyway. Lots of people have given me sympathy over it, and it's nice of them, but I don't want it."
Mark nodded.
"I don't know what I'd do without my parents. I wish you could meet them, you know - understand what it's like. Anyway, I better be off. I've got to go and find my keys."
He got off the wooden bench and picked up his carrier bag, his gaze not leaving Harry's. He had a very penetrating stare.
"Listen, Henry, do you want to come back to our house? No one's in, but maybe you can help me find a way to break the door down - that is, if you want to."
Harry gaped at him.
"Did you just call me Henry?" he asked.
"Yup - didn't you know Harry's a pet form of Henry? Dad told me a few years ago."
Harry pondered on this for a minute, but soon pushed it to the back of his mind and smiled slightly at the boy in front of him.
"Okay then, I'd love to."
About half an hour later, Harry was back up at Primrose Road and was walking up the same hill that Stephen had walked him up earlier on.
Mark almost skipped over to the house where the white-haired man had come out of almost an hour ago - and by the time Harry had reached him, the other boy was swearing like a trooper under his breath.
"Stupid.stupid man.oh, hello Harry," the boy then noticed that Harry was looking at him bemusedly and with a slight grin on his face.
"What?" Harry asked, choosing not to hide the smile that he felt appear on his face at the younger boy's wide vocabulary.
"My stupid Grandfather left the stupid house keys in the stupid keyhole in the middle of the stupid night," Mark muttered gruffly, holding up a set of five keys on a ring under the orange lamppost so that Harry could see.
Harry was quite sure he had never heard so many 'stupids' in one sentence.
"Listen.they haven't been taken - so that's a good thing, isn't it?" Harry asked warily, noticing the boy look down at a shadow of a rose bush by the door.
He swore again.
"Stupid man! He hasn't even bothered to water the stu-"
"Please!" Harry said suddenly. "Say something other than 'stupid'! It's going to drive me batty."
Mark grinned slightly, and then unlocked the door and motioned for Harry to follow him into the dark house.
The boy switched on the hall's light while Harry shut the large, plastic green door.
When he turned, he noticed that the staircase was on the right - and the kitchen (where some more colourful words were coming from) was on he left.
He walked through the doorway and into the kitchen, to where a collection of strange and colourful ornaments (including a collection of artistic plates) could be seen on a large wooden bookcase - half of the large kitchen was covered in shelving and cupboards (a fridge which was currently open was next to the cupboard), while the other half had a six place wooden dining table.
Mark turned around from doing whatever he was doing by the sink, and smiled slightly at Harry.
"You can come in, you know. My dad has all sorts of strange people in here all the time, so I'm used to seeing strangers in here. Tea, coffee or orange juice?" Mark finished, holding a jug of water and looked at his newfound friend who was standing by the door. He walked over to the fridge and opened it. "Or some yellow milk that's been left at the back of the fridge for a couple of months?"
"Shouldn't you carry on with packing away your shopping?" Harry asked, his gaze shifting to the bag that was sitting on the table.
"No need to worry. It's only milk and bread and stuff - and by the time my parents come back, the milk will be growing mould on it," he said sarcastically, waving his hands about as if pushing Harry's question away.
"Then I'll have a milky tea, please," Harry replied, smiling as the younger lad smiled back.
"Sugar?" And because Harry shook his head, he just smiled slightly and put two teaspoons of brown sugar into his own chipped mug.
"Go and sit down in the living room, Harry. I'll just finish the shopping and then I'll bring it in. Watch the TV or something," Mark continued, pouring some milk into the both of the cups. "I'm sure dad's fixed it since he fell over it and almost set the house on fire."
Harry walked into the adjoining room - where two large creamy white plush sofas and a winged back chair were sat firmly around a large glass coffee table, and a large black television was on the far end of the room.
To Harry's right were a collection of photographs and a small computer set just behind the door - he turned to look at some of the family pictures, and saw various poses of the family.
One man caught his eye, however - he had dark blonde hair down to his lower ear, and a cold smile that didn't quite reach his dark silver eyes.
That piercing look.it caused something to stir in the back of Harry's tired mind.as if the person in the portrait was pulling at some nerves in the back of his head and enjoyed causing Harry to become very confused and slightly dazed.
Harry jumped as he felt warm breath on the back of his neck and someone tap him on his right shoulder blade.
"That's my dad," he heard Mark say happily, before he was passed a slightly chipped mug with a rude picture on it. "And that's his mug."
Harry blushed slightly, and smiled before he was pulled over to sit in one of the creamy sofas.
X-X-X-X
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