The apartment was beyond homely. It was wonderful. Opening the door revealed a room about as large as the Dursley's living room. That room was warmly furnished with dark carpets and rugs, an old looking coffee table and an assortment of bits and bobs that really gave the room character. On the wall opposite to the door, there were two tapestries, one on either side of the large window that dominated the wall. The tapestry on the left hand side depicted a field, in the country. One could get lost in the colours, get lost in the peace that seemed to emanate from the scene. There was a quaint farmhouse in the frame that seemed so at peace with the countryside. The other tapestry showed the same field, with the same house, only now it was evening. And the scene was burning. Harry's eyes were drawn to that scene. It was so at odds with the comfortable room. Why was it here? Thinking about that tapestry distracted Harry enough that when Professor McGonogall saw entered and saw the seen, she was able to cast a disillusionment charm on the tapestry hiding it from sight. "It is best not to dwell on such things." McGonogall's voice was gruff, and invited no argument. "Okay. Where is it now?" Harry was extremely curious when it came to magic and he desperately wished that the professor had not destroyed the tapestry. It was beautiful after all. McGonogall smiled slightly, hearing the worry in the boy's voice. "It is where it always was. And will be where it always is." On that note, McGonogall left the apartment, calling over her shoulder to tell Harry that the clothes in the wardrobe were for him to use, and then she was gone.

Against the wall opposite the door, were two doors, one set in the left hand wall, and the other set in the right hand wall. The left hand door, or the sunny door as Harry called it to himself in reference to the tapestry, led into what looked like a bedroom from where Harry was standing in front of the large window. The right hand door led into a room that was white and clean looking, in contrast to the warm old felling of the rest of the apartment. Harry assumed that was the bathroom, through the door of darkness, again named in reference to the tapestry that hung on that side of the apartment. The living room also had a wooden table dresser that was adorned with a tea set. Harry walked into the bedroom and saw a bed that kept to the old Victorian aesthetic of the apartment. The bed was a king sized one, something that proved to be one thing too much for an eleven year old boy, that had lived in a cupboard under the stairs all his life. Harry sat in the reading couch that was in the room and cried. He had been doing that a lot lately, considering that he never cried, it would have annoyed the Dursley's. Harry cried not in sadness, not in pain, but in desperation. A desperation for everything that was happening to him to be real. And Harry realised with a start that he was okay with the fact that he was a monster, so long as it meant that he was sitting in a comfortable couch, in a richly decorated room, in a castle! And with someone that seemed to actually care about him. Harry decided then and there that it was worth it. And he cried because a part of him still believed this was all some kind of cruel trick. Some kind of prank being pulled by the Dursley's. Or perhaps it was madness that came from the pain of his being kidnapped.

A few minutes later, Harry had recollected himself, and decided that a cup of tea would do wonders to help him calm down. But not before he got changed into those clothes the professor had mentioned. The clothes he was wearing were still caked in dry blood from his time with the werewolf. And the shirt was shredded at his right shoulder. Harry stood up and walked towards the large wardrobe in the corner of the room. Inside were a few T-shirts and shorts, as well as longs. There was also a formal looking button up shirt that Harry decided he would wear when he went to "Dragon Alley" or where-ever the professor was taking him tomorrow. Harry stripped off everything he was wearing as quickly as he could, and grabbed the first T-shirt and shorts, not wanting to be without clothes on for any amount of time. That was until he looked down at his body. It was then that he decide he really needed a shower before putting anything else on. So Harry sprinted across the open living area to the bathroom, carrying his chosen clothes. He then had one of the best showers of his entire life. He left his eyes closed as the warm water washed over his body, and it was then that he realised how tired he was, again. After pulling the odd looking lever in the shower and being covered in soap, Harry looked at his right shoulder, to clean it. And his stomach dropped to his feet. The skin around the bites was still black. Dead. Harry tried poking the dead flesh, and gasped at how odd it was, Harry couldn't feel himself touching his own flesh. That moment, when he realised that the flesh was actually dead was a moment that Harry would remember until the day he died. Because that moment saw Harry accept that, even though he didn't know everything it entailed, he was a werewolf. It also helped him accept that he was in Hogwarts. No prank, no mind games would result in his skin dying. This was really real. Harry rinsed off and get dressed. Feeling better than he had since The night before The Day Of The Letters.

Harry again considered how good a cup of tea would be, before he went to bed for a short nap, it was after all, just after one o'clock in the afternoon. Harry stepped into the living room and walked to the table dresser, to make himself some tea. The tea set looked so delicate, made of porcelain with designs of flowers and horses on the pieces. The best part was that the designs actually moved. The tea spoon was a real thing of beauty, made of what Harry believed was actual silver adorned with the Hogwarts crest. The water in the tea-pot seemed to be eternally hot. After pouring tea that was perfectly brewed from the pot, Harry reached out to the silver tea spoon, just before his fingers touched the metal, it seemed to glow with an angry, hot light. There was no feeling of heat on his finger tips, so Harry simply assumed that there was some kind of magic on the spoon. Until he touched it. Pain lanced up Harry's arm, and it felt like he had been simultaneously burnt and electrocuted by the spoon. His fingers really hurt, and were an angry red, but did not seem to be terribly burnt. Harry's mind quickly became foggy though and he fell to the ground, pulling the cloth that was under the tea set, dragging the hot liquid onto his back. Not that he could feel it, he was too far gone. There was a crash as Harry fell, and Harry dimly heard the sound of running feet as he lost consciousness.

Harry awoke to the sound of two ladies having a screaming match. One of the voices was undoubtedly Professor McGonogall's, and the other was one that he had never heard before, it was the unknown voice that was screaming when Harry was awake enough to hear the actual words being screamed. "... you! Silver? In the same room as the boy? What were you thinking?" Professor McGonogall was actually much quieter as she answered, and it really sounded like she may burst into tears. "I didn't think. I forgot that the cutlery in the school is pure silver. I forgot what it would do to him. Will he be okay?" The other lady seemed to deflate in her tone as well, but she still harrumphed as she responded. "Of course he'll be okay, so okay in fact, that I think you will find that this conversation has a nonspeaking bystander." Harry opened his eyes, knowing he was caught, just as Professor McGonogall and a relatively old, kindly looking witch rounded the curtain surrounding his bed. "I am glad to see you awake Harry." Said the professor. To the other witch she said "Thank you Poppy, I'll handle him from here." That saw the other witch, presumably named Poppy leaving from Harry's bedside. "Harry I have to offer you my sincerest apologies." The professor began. "You as a werewolf can't touch silver. And I foolishly left some silver cutlery in your apartment. You are now in the hospital wing, being treated for the burns on your back, as well as silver poisoning." Harry was confused for two reasons, "umm, Professor, my back is fine, and what is silver poisoning? I've never hear of it." This summoned a weak chuckle from Minerva. "Your back is healed now, magic is a wondrous thing child. Silver poisoning is an affliction that only ever happens to werewolves. When a werewolf comes into contact with silver, it causes them great pain, as you must know." Harry presented a wry smile at that. "Although that is not the worst of it. For reasons unknown, silver is able to very easily enter into a werewolf's blood stream, as what happened to you. The presence of that which is fatal to you in trace amounts in your blood, causes your body to shut down, sometimes with catastrophic effects. You were fortunate in that the only thing that happened to you was that you fell unconscious." This had Harry worried. " Am I okay now though?" "Oh yes, the silver has been expelled from your system, you are quite alright. So alright in fact that once we're done talking, I'll walk you to your apartment. It is about eight in the evening now." The prospect of returning to "his apartment" really appealed to Harry. The professor continued, "There is no longer any silver anywhere in the apartment. So it should now be very safe." "Thank you so much professor." "Shall we go?" "I never much cared for hospitals, the idea of leaving is really quite appealing."

Once they had reached the apartment, the Professor bid Harry good evening, which he reciprocated, not blaming professor McGonogall in the slightest for the whole episode. Inside was a platter of wholesome looking food, which Harry devoured, noting how delicious the food was. After his evening feast, Harry prepared for sleep, his head meeting the down pillow. His eyes began to drift closed, the weight on them growing. The warmth of the bed making for an environment that was highly conducive to sleep. Just as the tendrils of sleep began to grip his mind, Harry mumbled out loud a single word. That world carrying so much weight, to Harry at least "Wow."

A/N Thanks for reading! I can't believe how long it's taking me to get to the first day of Hogwarts! Guys, I need help, what house should I sort Harry into? I don't really want him to go into Gryffindor, so I'll ask you guys. The next chapter should be about Diagon Alley, and then we should get round to Hogwarts! Let me know if you feel that this story is going too quickly or too slowly. My current plan is for this story to encompass every one of Harry's years at Hogwarts. Again thank you all so much for reading!