Disclaimer: It still isn't mine. I told you so!
A/N: This is my… um… fourth revised chapter in two days… I think. Either way, I'm very proud of myself. Now, on with the new and improved chapter!
"These is your rooms, Mr. Potter, Miss Zabini," Binky squeaked out as she stopped in front of a large painting depicting a knight on his horse.
"Halt!" The man in the painting struggled to climb off his horse, and only succeeded in tumbling off in the bulky armor, his helmet clinking shut. He pushed it back open and sat up, "Who goes there? Announce thy intentions or prepare to meet with the blade of my sword!" He attempted to lift the heavy iron sword from its scabbard, pausing from his rant to take a breath.
Binky seemed used to such behavior and paid him no heed. Instead, she snapped her fingers, causing the portrait to swing open, revealing a dark doorway. Blaise and Harry followed her inside, ignoring the paintings indignant calls.
"Come back ye lily-livered cowards-" the portal closed, cutting off his shouts, and with another snap of their guide's finger, torches flared to life giving them a clear view of their surroundings.
Blaise whistled in appreciation, and Harry had to agree. The rooms they were staying in were luxurious. Solid oak furniture was scattered about, including a couch with velvet cushions. A window on the far wall showed a spectacular view of the lake and forest. For two children who had grown up in an orphanage that barely met code regulations, the splendor was almost too much…
"I call this room!" Blaise yelled, charging into the door on the left possessively, "Oooh! It's got a canopy bed!"
Well, almost too much.
Harry started toward the room on the right. Peeking inside, he discovered a queen-size bed with scarlet hangings. The bedspread had a gold lion embedded in it, and Harry noticed its tail actually twitch under his gaze. An oak desk stood in the corner next to another wall, near a window. Harry pulled apart the red and gold curtains to see the sun halfway through the sky. He guessed it to be a little past two by now.
Harry walked back into the main room and found Blaise asking Binky about the school.
"How big is this place?"
"Well, Binky is not sure… it depends on how Hogwarts is feeling at the moment. It is always changing the rooms," she replied, head cocked to the side in thought.
Blaise blanched and started muttering about needing a map just to find the bathroom. She looked up at the sound of Harry's footsteps, "Isn't this place bloody brilliant?"
"Yeah, it's certainly not what I'd expect in a boarding school. The colors are a little bright though," he waved a hand at the golden couch and scarlet pillows.
Blaise wrinkled her nose at the gaudy color scheme, "Maybe they're the school colors or something. Ick, I hope not, there is no way I'm gonna walk to classes dressed in anything like that-"
"Excuse me, sir," Binky tugged on Harry's shirt to get his attention, "I has to be going now. Dinner is to be served in the Great Hall at six. Binky has to go back and help in the kitchens."
"No problem, Binky," Harry nodded kindly, "Thank you for showing us to our rooms."
Binky practically glowed with pleasure before she bowed and vanished in another puff of smoke.
After the elf's departure, Blaise flopped down onto the couch, closing her eyes in content, "Wow. I still can't believe all this is real, eh, Harry?"
When no answer came, she opened her eyes, frowning. Harry stood against the wall, arms crossed, and apparently deep in thought.
"Harry? Are you alright?" Blaise asked, sitting up in concern.
His head snapped up, the emerald eyes behind his glasses slightly empty.
"What- Oh, yeah, I'm fine," he replied, sounding distracted.
"If you're sure…"
"Yeah… Blaise, I'll see you in a while, I just need some time to think…"
She watched, unsure of what to say as he walked back into his room, head slightly bowed. The door shut with a click and Blaise leaned back onto the cushions. She sighed into the silence, "Oh, Harry…"
He stared at the ceiling pensively, going over the events of that day. He'd escaped St. Margaret's, maybe for good, discovered that magic was real, arrived at a school for wizards, and then the biggest thing of all: He learned the truth of his parents' deaths. A wizard murdered them, Harry as a baby managed to defeat him, and apparently, he was more popular than the Queen of England. It was certainly a lot to take in all at once.
'I still can't believe it… Just last week I was a nobody, an orphan, destined to spend my life under Cromwell's tyranny, until I came of age and he threw me out. That, or he'd finally convince child services to send me to St. Brutus's.'
Cromwell had actually filed complaints when he discovered Harry was the cause of all his problems. A representative came to meet Harry before carting him off to the school for the criminally insane. Twenty minutes later, the woman could be heard ranting in Cromwell's office about how he should be ashamed of himself for making up stories about such a sweet little boy, followed by her announcement that he was on probation.
Harry smiled weakly at the memory before the present situation came rushing back, 'It doesn't make any sense. How can I have defeated the most evil wizard of all time? What did I do, drool on him?' Harry frowned when he thought about the root of it all… his parents.
'Why didn't anyone tell me? I thought my parents died in a car crash, drunk! Did-did the Dursleys know… about all of this? Did his aunt Petunia lie about her sister's death? But why would she say those things?'
Harry had heard very little about his parents. From what Aunt Petunia said, they were jobless, no good drunks who got themselves killed, and left Harry to burden his relatives. He'd always held onto the hope that what his aunt and uncle said wasn't true, that his mother and father were really wonderful people who cared about him…
When he was younger, Harry had dreamt about them. He would have wonderful dreams about being part of a normal family, surrounded by people happy to see him. When he woke to the sound of his aunt banging on the cupboard, demanding that he begin the endless list of chores for that day, he would take solace in the memory of his mother's voice, comforting him. He would never know if any of those dreams were imagined or perhaps an old memory, faded with time…
Harry screwed up his eyes in anger as he was forced to remember his time with his relatives, before the orphanage. Harry had tried to suppress those memories over time. He never spoke of it to anyone, barely even to Blaise. He may not have gotten along with Cromwell, but in his opinion, St. Margaret's was the best thing that ever happened to him. It had seemed terrifying at first. When he was younger, the threat of an orphanage kept him from disobeying his uncle, and the prospect of the unknown kept him from running away.
At Privet Drive, Harry was never the rebellious person he was now. Back then, he was forced to slave for his aunt and uncle all day long. By the time Harry was four, he'd learned how to accomplish most of his chores, including making breakfast, doing the laundry, cleaning the house, painting the shed, tending to his aunt's flower bed, and washing Uncle Vernon's company car. In return, Harry was given the cramped space under the stairs for a bedroom, his cousin, Dudley's humongous hand-me-downs, and food if he was good.
When it was time for Harry to begin school, he was ecstatic. All he could think about was the chance to get away from the disgusted glares of his family for at least a few hours. Being the naïve child he was, Harry imagined a bright, cheery school building, warm, caring teachers, and plenty of kids to befriend. Well, he was partially correct. The school was one of the wealthier ones, the teachers were fair, and the other students seemed nice enough… What he didn't count on was the most important factor: Dudley.
His overlarge, bullying cousin scared away any prospective friends, and encouraged people to laugh at Harry's tattered clothes and broken glasses. He pushed Harry through the door into the classroom, stole his neatly written class work in exchange for Dudley's own scribbles, and ate the meager lunch his aunt had given him that morning. Harry practically ran out when the bell rang, signaling recess.
Dudley couldn't keep up with Harry's quick reflexes, thankfully. Harry managed to find a hiding spot before most of the other children came out. He crawled into one of the bright plastic tubes on the jungle gym.
His peace didn't last for long. With the help of a rat-faced boy, Piers, Dudley managed to track him down…
Flashback:
"Dudley, over here!" Piers shouted triumphantly when he found Harry at the top of the monkey bars. Harry cringed and pressed himself back further into the safety of the tube.
"Hey, Potter! What do you think you're doing? You don't belong here, no one wants you!"
Young Harry didn't have any tears to hold back at the comment. He was all too used to his cousin's taunts. Foolishly, Harry answered him, "Get lost, Dudley! What's the matter? Too scared to come get me yourself, or are you just afraid the whole thing will break under your weight?"
Dudley growled from the ground and started to climb. Harry gulped. He'd hoped Dudley would realize the truth of what he said. Dudley's massive bulk had actually snapped a chair last week. Dudley was either too stubborn to give up or just an idiot. Probably the latter.
Dudley finally made it to the top, out of breath and furious, "Ju-just… wait till I… get my hands on you, Potter! I'm gonna… hit you so hard your parents will feel it! But, maybe not, they are dead after all."
For someone with half the thinking capacity needed to come up with a good insult, Dudley's sure hurt. Something in Harry snapped, and he felt a pressure building behind his eyes. They glowed from inside the tunnel, and Dudley actually whimpered. Before he knew what was happening, an invisible force slammed into him, sending the stunned boy flying backwards off the five-foot drop. He landed heavily on the grass, causing the ground to vibrate. An audible crack reached Harry's ears at the same time, snapping him out of whatever trance he'd been in.
A short time later, the Dursleys were called. They arrived at the school moments later to find their son howling in exaggerated agony in the nurse's office as she tried in vain to hold an icepack to his rapidly swelling ankle.
Meanwhile, Harry sat in the principal's office, dwarfed in a large chair in front of the desk. His short legs swung off the edge nervously. He still didn't know what had happened, but from what the principal had said, Harry was suspended for pushing Dudley off the jungle gym and causing him to break his ankle.
Poor Harry couldn't recall ever touching his cousin, but the principal wouldn't listen to his pleas. Apparently, they had a witness, one Piers Polkiss.
Uncle Vernon rapped on the door and was let in by Principal Wilkins. The two conversed loudly, Vernon yelling about negligent teachers while the principal tried to calm him down. Harry just sat, numbly taking in all in. When Vernon's narrowed gaze set on him, Harry visibly shuddered.
When the car pulled into the driveway, Aunt Petunia helped her sniffling son to the front door. She cooed all sorts of embarrassing names as he moaned pitifully. Harry stayed frozen in the back seat until the car door opened, and Vernon dragged him out roughly by the arm.
"What did you think you were doing, hurting Dudley?" he hissed.
"I-I don't know wh-what happened!" Harry stuttered fearfully.
"Don't lie to me, boy…" he raised a hand threateningly and Harry flinched.
"I swear I didn't touch him! I don't know what happened! He just went flying, like magic!"
That was the last straw for Vernon. Before Harry had a chance to duck, a fist came swinging at his face, knocking him back onto the lawn. He raised a trembling hand to his bruised cheek, and patted the ground behind him for his glasses. They had gone flying off his face.
Vernon leaned down menacingly and bared his teeth at the trembling boy, "THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!"
Harry spent the next two days locked in his cupboard. They didn't even make him work, which would have been fine if Aunt Petunia hadn't neglected to feed him. Harry couldn't imagine how things had gone from bad to worse so quickly. He was starting to think they had forgotten him when Aunt Petunia opened the cupboard door at the start of the third day. Harry blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. Before he could ask what was going on, she had dragged him into the kitchen. He sat in the chair nervously as she placed a slice toast and a glass of water in front of him.
"Hurry up and eat, then get dressed," she snapped before walking off.
Harry knew better than to ask questions, so he finished off the meal in record time and changed into one of Dudley's worn out sweaters and even worse jeans.
When Petunia came back with Vernon, they told him to get into the car and started off without any explanations. Harry watched as they drove farther out into the city, towards London. He stared at the front seats, face filled with confusion and more than a little fear. His face still stung from his uncle's blow, and he was sure there was a bruise. The reminder of that day stopped him from questioning their destination.
He soon discovered the purpose of their trip when Vernon pulled up in front of a forbidding-looking building. It was several stories high, with many windows, and a sharp metal fence blocking it from view of the streets on all sides.
With out a word, his aunt and uncle got out and headed inside, Harry following with a desperate look back at the car.
The moment they entered, a short, balding man almost as wide as Vernon greeted them. He had slicked back dark hair and cold gray eyes. His voice had an oily quality and an undercurrent of dislike that Harry was quite familiar with. Harry gulped.
"Well, hello, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. So glad you could make it."
"Yes, well, is the paperwork all ready?" Vernon shuffled his feet impatiently.
"Of course, I just need you to sign a few things-"
"And that's it? No one will show up at our home to bother us?" Petunia interrupted.
Harry didn't know what they were talking about, but from the sound of it, it wasn't good.
"Hmm, and you must be little Harry," the man leaned down, messing Harry's hair roughly, "I am Mr. Cromwell. Welcome to St. Margaret's Home for Orphaned Children," Harry felt his lungs freeze up, and he had to force himself to keep breathing, "I'm sure you're going to love it here," he finished with a nasty smile.
Harry looked up at his relatives desperately searching for some sign. What he found wasn't pleasing. Vernon was smiling nastily and Petunia looked relieved.
"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia?" his childish voice cracked, sounding even smaller.
"We should have left you here from the start." With that, Harry's only remaining relatives turned their backs on him and walked out the doors.
When they were gone, Cromwell's smiled disappeared. He turned to the trembling boy and smirked.
"I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay with us," he laughed coldly, "You sleep on the third floor. Now get out of my sight."
He turned and walked into an office, leaving Harry still standing in the hallway.
With growing dread, Harry headed upstairs. He'd never expected the Dursleys to leave him there. Sure, they left a lot to be desired when it came to being a family, but they were his guardians, and they just abandoned him! They'd always told him what a horrible pace orphanages were, it was the very threat they used against him. He'd just never believed them capable of it.
Harry reached the top of the first staircase and found himself in an empty hallway with doors on both sides. Just as he was about to proceed, a bell went off, similar to the one he'd heard in school. Suddenly, all the doors opened, and a flood of orphans crowded the hallway. Harry was starting to get claustrophobic when a taller boy knocked into him. Harry fell to the floor, once more losing his glasses. He crawled around, trying to find them without being stepped on. When he reached forward, he found a pair of round spectacles pushed into his hand.
He put them on gratefully and looked up to find a pair of bright blue eyes regarding him curiously. It was a girl about his own age. She had long, reddish-brown hair in a ponytail and was dressed in clothes that weren't much better than his own. She reached out a hand and helped him up.
"Thanks," he muttered shyly.
She smiled warmly, "No problem. You're new here, aren't cha? My name's Blaise. What's yours?"
He smiled back, "Harry. Harry Potter."
End Flashback
Harry grinned remembering his first encounter with Blaise. They'd become best friends after that. She'd been the thing he'd always missed out on in life. A friend. Because of Blaise, Harry grew more confident in himself. He was no longer the weak little boy that everyone picked on… at least not without consequences.
He should probably thank the Dursleys. If it weren't for them he'd of been a real mess, 'Oh, the irony…'
They couldn't have known what he was. After all, who would've believed it?
'THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!'
Harry sat up as though he'd been electrocuted. He was remembering his uncle's choice of words that day. He seemed to be overreacting, but then, wasn't that what the Dursleys did best? But now that he thought about it… They'd always freaked out at the slightest hint at magic.
A magician was the one thing Dudley had always been denied of at his birthday parties, regardless of how big a tantrum he threw. And Harry would never forget the scene Aunt Petunia caused when she found Dudley watching Fantasia. At the time, he'd wondered why she seemed so utterly horrified of Mickey Mouse.
Aunt Petunia was always evasive when he'd asked about his parents, 'And wasn't mum a witch? Petunia was the nosiest woman in the neighborhood. I doubt even she could miss it if her sister went off to a school for magic every year.'
But how could the Dursleys hide that from him? 'Unless it disrupted their perfect little life,' he thought bitterly, 'and since when have they ever told me anything?'
It still seemed unbelievable that the Dursleys could know the existence of magic. The very same people that went to such lengths to seem like the perfect family, always worried what the neighbors would think. The Dursleys would never keep someone like Harry anywhere near themselves.
'But they didn't. They got rid of me as soon as the opportunity arose,' he reminded himself, 'The Dursleys couldn't have known!' The logical part of his brain replied, 'Couldn't they?'
Another chapter fixed! I'm almost done! You'll be very happy to know that the next chapter in the story, which I've had on hold for months… is also being finished! Yay for me!
