Unleashed
Chatper Title: World Go 'Round
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything you recognize.
Notes: Thanks to my glorius Beta read; And That Guy Again! You have done and continue to do such a great job.
It gave him an absolutely huge shock when he heard the hooting of an owl near his bedroom window. The group of them had been sitting calmly, holding cups of tea that Kenneth had made and sipping them like they were royal dignitaries. Mr and Mrs Lamprey were reclining on the couch as if they already owned it; Mr Lamprey had even made a move to prop his fat feet up on the coffee table but stopped when he saw the light glare in Kenneth's eyes.
They hadn't bought the house yet, but the minute that they entered, rather unannounced, Kenneth knew that was what they were here for. It seemed, by the way they came over all suited and skirted up in a remarkable fashion, Mr Lamprey even carrying a briefcase, that they wanted to do this old school.
Old school, as in hand Kenneth the check for the price he was asking, sign a few forms and then that would be it, the house would be theirs, and Kenneth would leave in a matter of hours. He'd promised a quick get out and magic certainly helped with that. They'd talked, and Mrs Lamprey had spluttered over her coffee as she gushed over the house.
Kenneth was certain that Mr Lamprey was simply going to pay him his asking price, which was a little higher than most houses selling in the area but only for the reason of the furniture remaining in the house. Just as Mr Lamprey had slapped his hands down on his immense thighs sending a rippling motion across the rest of his large, flabby body and Mrs Lamprey had clapped her hands together and looked adoringly across at Kenneth that the hoot of the owl had startled him, nearly making him fall backwards from his chair.
'What in the devil - ?' Mr Lamprey exclaimed and rose to his feet like Kenneth.
'No, no, sit,' Kenneth said, knowing exactly that the owl would be carrying a letter for him, hopefully from Remus, maybe then Kenneth would pluck up courage and ask. He was, after all, beginning to develop a crush on Remus. 'I'll go see what it is.'
It was awkward having Muggles in the house; if it was wizards he were selling to, he would have just waved it off and welcomed the owl to poop and shit everywhere before taking the letter from it and lazily cleaning up the debris it would have left behind with his wand. Things were so much easier when it was wizard to wizards; wizard to Muggles was something of an effort. Twice now, Kenneth had nearly pulled out his wand.
He'd been sheepishly embarrassed several times when he did this and this caused Mrs Lamprey's sharp eye to snap towards him and ask what was wrong. Kenneth had desperately wanted to say, I nearly pulled my wand out twice! Oh, silly me, will I ever learn? And then causally wave that aside with a twist in his wrist. But he grinned awkwardly and hurried off in the direction of the hooting.
'Yes, yes!' he scolded. 'You're desperate for attention, I get it. For Merlin's sake you little bugger, hold still!'
He entered his room and saw the owl, a white one that looked like it had been standing on the side of the road beside a mud puddle, tapping excitedly on the window and then hooting like a stray cat. Kenneth had crossed over in a second and yanked the window open; immediately, the owl had calmed and thrust its beak out to Kenneth and dropped the letter in his timid outstretched hand.
He was never really sure about owls, some were horrid and nasty, and some were kind and quite nice, but he never wanted to dangle his fingers in front of their beaks to find out. He was good with just the take, and say good bye.
The owl flapped around a bit on the window sill when Kenneth safely had the letter in his hand like it was preparing itself mentally for takeoff. It bobbed up and down at least five more times before Kenneth had the want to reach out and just push it gently off the window and watch it fly away, leaving him in peace.
The owl bent down with one last bob before launching itself haphazardly off the window sill and wobbling off into the air, in all honestly the owl looked drunk. It must belong to Remus, or he must have borrowed it from another wizard or witch. The Ministry owls were all very sleek and quite beautiful; they also wore purple collars with M.O.M printed on them.
His mother or his friends sending him an owl would be somewhat amazing, he was sure it wouldn't happen for a long time unless it was Inez sending him a letter, begging, pleading him to turn. He shuddered at the thought and almost checked his arm to see if he hadn't been branded in his sleep. Watching the owl leave, Kenneth looked down briefly at the letter.
The hand writing on the front was elegant and neat that wrote his name but the jagged line that swiped underneath was harsh and brutal. He brushed his fingertips across the envelope that concealed the letter and threw it down against the pillows of his bed. He'd read it later. Right now, he was sure he had a deal to sign.
He turned back and walked through the door, with a fleeting glimpse at the letter on his pillows. It meant he'd be able to spend more time with Remus, how wonderful. His crush was certainly progressing; he'd gone from liking the man to liking the man a great deal and wanting to ask him out in the time of probably a month. He'd only let himself call it a crush a few nights ago as well, when he'd thought about it. He didn't know how he'd cope if he woke up in the bed Remus had been using after the full moon like last time, probably moan outright.
'What was that?' Mrs Lamprey asked seriously.
'Neighbours' kids,' Kenneth said thinking fast and was quite relived that his neighbours actually had kids and that his response was entirely plausible. 'Some new toy,' he added with a shrug and knew he'd played it well when she smiled at him.
Explaining to two very well to do Muggles that an owl had just delivered a letter from a werewolf (yeah, he was one, too) about where they would spend the next full moon was a discussion that he never wanted to have in his life.
Mr Lamprey nodded. 'Children,' he said with a deep sigh. 'Now, the reason Susan and I actually came over was to buy the house,' He said it all in a rush, and though Kenneth had realized that was the reason they were here, not just for the appalling coffee that he tried to make, he was taken aback by the way the buyer finally just came out with it. 'We are quite happy to pay the extra for the furniture.'
'I hope you have found somewhere to stay,' Mrs Lamprey added.
'Yes, I have, thank you. So, how are we going to do this?' Kenneth asked, leaning forward from the chair he had sat in to rest his arms against his legs.
'Sign a few things. We have a check for you, and it will be as simple as that.'
'I can be out of here by the end of this week,' Kenneth said. That was only a day and a half away but with magic, it would be easy. He saw their eyes widen at the thought of him being able to leave so soon, but he nodded distinctly. 'It won't take me long to leave.'
They left half an hour later, happy owners of his home, and he happily musing over the cheque they'd given him – a large one at that, probably larger once converted into proper Wizarding currency. His wolf hadn't bothered him all through the exchange. Either it decided not to crop up today, or it had resignedly decided that it had to give up its territory.
Strangely, for Kenneth there was no stigma or sadness in his leaving. He didn't really care. He'd worked so hard to buy this house when he was just twenty, it had been a great deal cheaper then, but leaving wasn't hurting him. Maybe he'd simply known that his new life wasn't going to let him off easily, just because he'd been stupid enough to go outside at night time (it seemed highly unfair), and he had to deal and selling house was the second step – losing all his friends and his parents had been the first.
The money would have made up for any pain he felt at losing the house because of what the Ministry put in place for him seeing what he was, there just wasn't any. He didn't care that the house was gone now, it was no longer his, and he was actually kind of looking forward to moving into the Leaky as well, just for a while anyway.
He'd have to live with this, and he should start treating it more like one big adventure, as basically, that was what it was turning into. He wondered if the hero would get the girl (boy/man/werewolf) like in most adventures.
Leaving all his furniture behind made for a very quick pack up. He didn't care if the Lampreys (such an unfortunate last name) didn't regard kitchen ware as furniture, they were getting it. He was taking the linen because he only had two bed sheets, some duvet covers, and they would take up absolutely no room in his bag.
It had always been just him in the house, he had no one else bother about, and if any stayed the night they'd either sleep in his bed or on the couch, maybe Kenneth would sleep there if he thought whoever was staying would get pissed because they didn't get the bed. It had always been him; he catered for more people with plates and things like that.
Everything was staying apart from his clothes, personal items, bathroom stuff, linen and photos around the house. His mother had taught him the best packing charm she knew; she had always been a good house witch. All Kenneth had to do was whisper the spell and think of all the items he wanted in his bag, with his wand pointing at that bag and everything would pack itself up. Not very neatly, but he tried.
In the excitement of packing he had forgotten all about Remus's letter, but suddenly with a little gasp he flung himself on the bed and grabbed at it. He wondered where they would be spending the night, then promptly scolded himself because he was making something he was scared of sound like a bloody vacation.
They'd be spending it together no doubt, unless Remus had decided to do something else. He lay on his stomach on his bed that was just the mattress and pillows, everything else had been stripped off by the spell. He swatted the letter against his hands and sighed painfully before prying it open, nearly cutting himself on the sharp pristine edges as he did.
It was definitely from Remus, and much to his disappointment, it was a very boring letter. But what had he been expecting? Kenneth snorted; he didn't know. The letter just told him where Remus was spending the full moon and invited him to come along as well. Now it didn't just sound like a vacation, it sounded like a party as well.
Remus moved each full moon because he remembered the incident at the Shrieking Shack, he'd started up ghosts stories there, and if he stayed in one place for more than one full moon someone was bound to find him at some stage. Any little bleep about any werewolf to the Ministry and there could be some serious trouble for them all. A further downgrade in citizenship probably.
Remus wanted to spend this full moon in a paddock in some English farmer's immense land. Remus was certain that the farmer would not notice if they spent the night somewhere down the back of it, he owned so much land and only used a certain amount of it. The rest was reasonably untouched, and he only grazed his animals in the land he used.
Kenneth thought it sounded like a safe bet and was just happy that Remus still wanted to spend the night with him, even though Kenneth would hardly remember any of it anyway. Remus had told Kenneth that plans could change, and something might happen, and he might have to transform somewhere else.
Kenneth got the idea that Remus's job had a big part to play in where he was able to transform as well as the fact that he liked to move around. He wanted to know what job the older werewolf did as the man had said something about asking if he could help him. Judging by Remus's ragged clothing it could hardly be good pay but a job was a job, and Kenneth would take anything legal.
It must be pretty top secret if Remus couldn't tell him what was going on with the meetings and things like that. But then again he could just not want to tell Kenneth, as they hadn't known each other very long. The possibilities were huge. If he was offered the job, he'd take it as a chance for more money and to be around Remus more. He hummed happily to himself as he put the letter back in the envelope and threw it in the direction of his bag,
The last night he spent in his flat was very boring indeed, he just slept on his stripped bed with a blanket over him; his head nestled in between the two pillows. Before today he was thinking that he should have a wank in every room of the house before he left, to welcome the Lamprey's and bid his house goodbye. He'd done that when he'd first moved in. He and his mates had a wank in every room to celebrate his ambiguous move – he might have ended up having sex that day but he couldn't really remember as everything had been a blur of alcohol and pleasure.
He didn't celebrate leaving to spend however long was necessary in the hub of London's magical community, he had wanted to, but he was taken by sleep before he could do anything else. Maybe he'd have a celebratory wank in the shower in the morning.
'It's under Kenneth Webber,' Kenneth said to Tom, who was giving him that weird toothless smile that he gave everyone. People said Tom could remember each and every one on his costumers, the barkeep was famous for that reason, but Kenneth had come and gone from the Leaky Cauldron several times, and Tom had never remembered him.
Tom rubbed his bald head and whistled between the gaps in his teeth, which led Kenneth to wonder how he did it. 'Ah, yes, Mr Webber, gotcha right here. Don't say how long you'll be staying though,' he murmured as he moved out from behind his post and waved his wand in a gloomy fashion at Kenneth's bag.
Kenneth followed the barkeep and his bag as he led him up the stairs out of the pub and up to the rooms.
'I'm not sure how long I'll be staying,' Kenneth said as Tom turned a sharp corner as they reached the top of a dimly lit staircase.
Some doors were flung wide open and the rooms empty, others open just a crack and Kenneth could see candle light flickering through the crack of the door, some doors were slammed tightly, and the slight murmur of voices issued from those rooms, others were silent. As far as he could see there were at least ten other rooms above the bar at the Leaky Cauldron.
Tom had led him down another corridor with another five rooms; these ones looked bigger, as though there was more to them. Behind three of these doors he could see light peeking out from under them, and four doors were shut with no light. It was a dark and gloomy day, and the sun was hidden by too many clouds to provide enough light.
'That's all right with us, Mr Webber,' Tom said and led him to the second to last door that had the number 21 written boldly on it.
There must more rooms either on another floor or down another corridor he hadn't seen. 'You can stay as long as you want or need. Watch out,' he added as he pulled his wand away from Kenneth's levitating bag and pointed his wand at the lock of room 21. The bag thudded down to the ground and missed hitting Kenneth in the head by an inch. He flinched away in surprise but picked it up, grunting a little. He'd forgotten how heavy it was as he'd levitated it like Tom had the moment he could.
Tom swung the door open with another toothless grin at Kenneth. Cold wind from the open windows buffeted him as he stepped inside. The room was nicely furbished. A double bed sat in the centre with two small bedside tables on either side. A dark blue couch sat at the foot of the bed; Kenneth could see light scratches that drew curved lines along the floor like the couch had been dragged more than once across the wooden floor.
There were two other doors in the room. One was wide open next to the windows that were also open. Inside this door, he could see a shower, toilet and sink, but that was all. He heaved his bag into the room, kicking it with his shin to give it more space to move. There was a smell as well; of distant ... he struggled to put a name to it. It was a twist of a clean smell that stung his noise and of a deep set musty smell that smelt like as much as everyone had tried they couldn't get rid of it and had decided to cover it up that stinging fresh smell.
'Is this to your liking?' asked Tom, sounding almost nervous like he'd had a spree of people who'd disliked the rooms recently. Kenneth liked it; it was simple and quite nice.
'It's fine,' Kenneth pulled his bag up into the bed and felt like kicking his shoes off and collapsing onto it. He wasn't tired; he wanted to try out where he'd be sleeping.
'Anything I can getcha?' the barkeep asked, hovering in the doorway and peering into the room.
'I'm great right now,' Kenneth said with a smile. 'But thanks.'
'Hope you'll join us later for a drink,' Tom said and nodded before tottering out of the doorway and closing the door behind him.
Kenneth kicked his shoes off and sniffed; the smell was still stinging his nose and burning his senses sharply. The second door in the room drew his attention now, and he walked across to it. It was directly across from the bed and the couch and he could crawl there without touching the floor and open the door if he wanted to. But he didn't think now was really the time.
The closed door was a closet with rows of wood protruding from the back wall on which things could be places. Several coat hangers hung in the closet as well and much, to Kenneth's amusement, an old fashioned Muggle shoe buffer. He was delighted by it and wondered why the hell it was there, but maybe a lot of other people who stayed here took in the same interest in it as he did upon seeing it. Having a Muggle shoe buffer in his closet was very amusing.
The open windows were still emitting blasts of cold air into the room; he crossed over to them quickly and pulled them shut with a snap. From the windows, he could see down to the street of Diagon Alley. Drops of rain that must have started to fall while Kenneth had entered the Leaky Cauldron were stopping a few metres above the heads of the people in the crowded street. Kenneth had loved that charm placed on Diagon Alley to stop people getting wet when it rained.
He loved a lot about Diagon Alley, and now he was able to spend a lot of time just milling about the street, pondering life and many other questions that needed definitive answers. After that maybe he could write a book. The Misadventures of Kenneth Mortlock Webber, he'd call it. It'd be bigger than Lockhart's.
He snorted and this time collapsed down onto the bed, ready to test the new bed.
hint I love feed back /hint
I hope you enjoyed reading this and will stick around for the other chapters and the rest of the story!
