Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter 7:

It was the 28th December, and Harry Potter was at his own home, the comfortable manor home that had belonged to his ancestors. For the first time in years, he dressed himself as a wizard, except that instead of a wand, he was armed with his knife. There was a lightening charm on his money bag, but that was a standard feature on a wizard money bag. Using gold as currency would otherwise be quite impractical. Harry thought it was impractical anyway. It would be a better idea to adopt Muggle currency.

He felt uneasy about this trip. By comparison, fronting the Dursleys had been easy, even though Aunt Petunia swore she didn't have his birth certificate and never had had it. He supposed he could apply for one. Some wizard births were not registered with Muggle authorities, but he thought that his Muggle-born mother would have registered him. He planned to have two fully documented identities, Harry Potter, former wizard, and Ricky Drayton, Muggle. He still wavered between his desire to live openly in the world of magic, or to live in a more civilised world. Not that Muggles were always more civilised. The murder of poor little Cassie Bates, presumably by the Bates Family Elders, proved that.

He shrugged himself into his cloak, put the hood over his head, and cast a charm to ensure that it stayed put. After a brief hesitation, he cast another charm to ensure his face appeared to be in shadow, whether or not it was. The charms could be dropped with a thought, or would wear off quite quickly. He was very conscious that he would be viewed as a threat if it was known he could do magic. If anyone knew the full extent of it, he was sure he would not be allowed to live. Around his neck was the flying horse pendant, just in case. If he needed to, he would call for help.

He apparated to Knockturn Alley and was surprised to find it bright and welcoming. It had been a place that respectable people avoided, but it appeared to have had a change of personality. There were still specialty shops, which traded in 'Rare and Valuable Antiques,' which probably meant items of Dark Magic, and Potions Shops that stocked potions ingredients of dubious origin, some frankly illegal. Sam's little shop was still there, as it had been when he was thirteen. Thinking about it, Harry was quite proud of himself that he'd had the cunning and courage to defy orders, and do what he thought he needed to do.

His errand was accomplished without incident, though Sam said he would need to change some older records, since records of 'parents' were needed as well, even if only a notice of death. He would need to come back to collect it. He'd retain the passport as well, in case it needed to be modified to be compatible with the birth certificate. Sam added, "I'll put the standard charms on of course, maybe less strong than usual so nothing is suspected." The standard charms ensured that wizard documentation would not be queried by Muggles, and influenced officials to be helpful rather than obstructive.

Sam finished, "Come back on the 2nd January, and I'll have the birth certificate ready."

Harry said, "Sam?" He was always known as Sam. It was 'Sam's Shop.' He didn't need to complete the sentence.

Sam said, "Strict confidentiality always. No need to fear that others will hear of any business done with Sam."

"Thank you, Sam."

Sam nodded. He knew who it was, but only because he remembered providing the original passport for the boy. He still wore the Binding Bracelets. He'd spotted one when a sleeve fell back slightly, but in any case, everybody knew that his magic was gone. A good thing on the whole. Wizards with too much power were apt to become dangerous. But Harry Potter was harmless and should be left in peace.

Harry gave a sigh of relief when he returned to his home. He cast off the cloak, put away his knife, and scanned copies of the Daily Prophet, the Informer, and Witch Weekly, before going over investment reports. He really needed some training in accountancy or wealth management. Maybe he should do a year's technical training in those subjects before going to University. He could stay at Kreighley a year longer that way. He wanted to keep an eye on Jason, on Chris, and on Lionel. The cult boys too. Jeremiah still called himself Jeremiah, but the others were Neil, Zack and Jake, and had asked to change their surname as well. They didn't want to be Bates any more. There was no need to feel guilty about accepting charity. He'd put enough money in the 'Tom Foundation' to support himself and a few others.

After the paperwork, he practised throwing his knife for an hour. It was Wintry outside, but he had an indoor room suitable for training. He didn't have a gun yet, but he did have his knife.

It was left behind when he returned to Kreighley. He suspected he would be thrown out if he was found with a knife. It was illegal to wear a knife.

There was a date with Cathy that evening. Her parents were going out.

****

Ruth Grierson phoned Ross Davies, who assured her that the cult boys were doing well, and would be attending school once the holidays were over, a remedial class to start with. They could all read and write, but their other education had been spotty, with glaring omissions. And then she asked, "Has Ricky produced a birth certificate yet?"

Ross was startled, "He's said nothing about a birth certificate."

"He said he'd provide one when I suggested we couldn't keep him otherwise."

"You threatened to throw him out? Ruth!"

"I wouldn't really. Just that he needs an incentive."

Ross said slowly, "He is very afraid of those who had him. I do hope you haven't caused him to put himself into danger."

"He strikes me as a quite capable young man. I don't see why applying for a birth certificate should be dangerous."

Ross said doubtfully, "Maybe not."

"We'll wait and see, shall we? He might come up with something. At least we might find out if he's given us a false name."

"You told me there was no such person as Ricky, Rick or Richard Drayton with that date of birth. Or not British."

"That's right. There was a search for possible relatives."

"Perhaps his birth was never registered, like the cult kids."

"Maybe. Meantime, best if you don't say anything to him about it. Wait and see."

Ross sighed, "You're the boss."

****

Dan said, "Please Auntie Vera. Jason's my best friend, and Ricky's like a big brother. I know there'll be other kids my age, but I really want them. Jason told me once that he hated parties, because it meant that drunken men would have fights, and belt kids if they got in the way. It'd be good to show him that parties don't have to be like that, wouldn't it?"

Vera asked curiously, "What does Ricky have to say about parties?"

"I can't remember him saying anything about parties. He almost never says anything about his life before Kreighley."

"He's a strange boy."

"Him and Jason. Please, Aunty Vera."

"I'll speak to James."

Harry was with Catherine. They'd been fondling, but Catherine's parents were in the house, and they hadn't done anything to get themselves into trouble. Catherine's Mum called out to them if they wanted some Christmas tarts, really an excuse to remind them not to get carried away. They separated, and went to the kitchen to avail themselves of the treat. Mrs. Taggart asked, "You going with Cathy to the New Year's Eve party tomorrow, Ricky?"

"Yes, Mrs. Taggart. I'm to meet her here at nine."

Catherine said awkwardly, "It's at Jimmy Baxter's house."

"You told me that."

"I thought you might not want to go."

"Jimmy's all right, mostly."

"Yes…."

"Is something wrong?"

Catherine blurted, "His parents say you're not allowed to come. I'm sorry, Ricky."

Harry shrugged, "We can do something else."

Catherine looked away. Harry frowned, "Cathy?"

"It's the big party. I want to go."

Mrs. Taggart glanced from one to the other, and said brightly, "Well, I'll just take John his tart."

Left alone, Harry was watching his girlfriend, who was beginning to turn red. At last he sighed, "I'd best leave." Catherine said nothing.

Harry poked his head in the lounge-room, and said, "Goodnight, Mr. Taggart, Mrs. Taggart. Thank you for dinner."

When the invitation came from the Chases, he asked, "May I bring my girlfriend, Mr. Chase?"

"If you wish. Unless her parents want to pick her up, she can stay the night, like you and Jason, we'll give you a day out New Year's Day, and we'll return you all that afternoon."

"Thanks, Mr. Chase. I'm looking forward to it."

"No misbehaviour, mind. I don't want her parents annoyed with me."

Harry laughed, "No sex in your house, I promise." He was feeling lighthearted. Catherine liked parties, and she was a bit of a snob. Surely the home of the Chases would reconcile her to missing the Baxters' party.

He rang her straightaway. By the time the phone call concluded, abruptly, he didn't have a girlfriend. It wasn't quite clear who'd dumped who, but he wasn't interested in continuing with a girl who was willing to go to a party from which he was excluded. It was a hurt, but not a heartbreak. His affection for Catherine had only been what he'd had for Mandy, and for Lynette, and Christine and Isobel before that. He had a brief thought to the bracelet he'd given her for Christmas, but shrugged. He was a rich man. She probably had no idea how much the pretty thing had cost.

He checked with Jason, who hesitated, but then accepted. Jason didn't believe in missing any chance of an excursion. Harry warned, "You already have something from the Chases."

"I'll be good. Did he say where we might be going?"

"They may not even have decided."

"We'd best tell the boss."

"Do you want to do that?"

Jason grinned, "You still mad with him?"

Harry acknowledged, "A bit."

James Chase was apprehensive about having Ricky and Jason, although Vera was more optimistic, and only pointed out how happy Daniel was to see his friends again. James said sourly that he'd be seeing them every day once school resumed.

He softened a bit later when he picked up the boys. They were both polite and respectful, and Jason was bubbling over with enthusiasm, very eager to know what they were doing the following day. "A surprise," he said.

Jason didn't want to let it alone, and James was relieved when Ricky gave him a slight shake of the head that resulted in his dropping the subject. The extra help was handy in setting up for the party, as well. "We'll be having around sixty people," Vera said. "Relatives and friends, and quite a few young people have accepted, probably because we promised that the pool area would be warmed for a pool party."

James added, "I doubt if the adults will care much about a pool party. They'll be mostly in the Billiards room, which we've cleared, and the large lounge room."

Jason said, "It's a cool house!"

Daniel asked, "What's your favourite part, Jason? Mine's the garden."

Jason grinned, "The formal lounge-room. Leaning back in the big arm-chair, feet up, pipe in mouth. You'd feel like bloody Henry the eighth."

Harry said, "Bloody only because he killed a lot of his wives."

Jason laughed, "That's right. I wasn't swearing. I'm not allowed to swear here. Ricky says so."

Vera said warmly, "We want you to feel comfortable, Jason. Don't be self-conscious with us."

"I reckon I'd better be self-conscious with your guests. They're not used to kids like me."

"So maybe a little bit self-conscious."

"Any gate-crashers or anything, you should call on me and Ricky. We'll toss them out for you."

Vera said gravely, "We'll rely on you for that then. But I don't think there'll be any gate-crashers."

The boys made themselves useful shifting furniture, carrying glasses and dishes of food, and decorating. The Chases were going to a lot of trouble. There were even spare swimmers, plus floral leis, sarongs and 'lap laps' available for the guests who wished to appear Hawaiian. A pile of colourful towels. The pool room was filled with tropical flowers, though artificial, and some real potted palm trees.

As anticipated, the younger ones gravitated to the pool room. For a time, Harry and Jason made themselves useful pouring drinks, and offering around refreshments, while Dan was kept close to one or other of the Chases, being shown off to various relatives.

At ten past eleven, Jason said, "Excuse me, Mr. Chase, but some fucker just poured a whole bottle of booze in the Punch. Then a real little bottle as well."

"In the other room?"

"Yes."

"Where's Ricky?"

Jason grinned, "Fully occupied."

James said apprehensively, "Doing what?"

"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Chase. He's not doing any harm."

"Can you point out who spiked the Punch?"

Jason indicated, "The big one over there. I think he's the same one that Ricky had to tell to Eff off."

"Eh? Why?"

"It's the hair, I think. Men hope he's gay."

"Is he?"

Jason laughed, "No."

James was occupied for a little having a quiet word with the man whom Jason had indicated, removing the spiked Punch from the pool-room, labeling it prominently as 'Strongly Alcoholic,' and providing a fresh, non alcoholic supply.

He was still vaguely worried about what Ricky might be up to, but relaxed when his brother pointed to a couple half-hidden behind some potted palms. Troy Chase said, "It's Amy. She's a friend of Christine's."

"How old is she?"

"Twenty-three, the same as Christine. She works at the vets."

"Ricky's only sixteen." He laughed suddenly, "I didn't think I'd be worrying about Ricky's virtue."

"I only wish I was that successful at sixteen!"

"I suppose it's harmless." It was certainly a lot better than seeing him with a man, and eighty pounds in his pocket.

It was getting close to the count-down to midnight. James briefly spotted Ricky again, wearing a brightly coloured lap lap, chest bare, his long hair loose, but tidily combed, and supplying a grouping of young people with soft drinks. Amy wasn't the only one who looked at him with appreciation.

Jason was also bare-chested, wearing just a lap lap over his swimmers. He was with two girls in bikinis, and doing his best to persuade one or other to get a bit more friendly. One was supposed to be in the midst of a passionate kiss when the clock ticked over to the new year. Ricky had had a non-stop series of girlfriends since he was thirteen, at least according to Chris. Jason was fourteen. He thought it was time.

Vera Chase said softly to Daniel, "Are you happy with us, Dan?"

Daniel said, "Yes, Aunty Vera."

Vera raised her eyebrows at James, who joined her. She smiled at him, put an arm around Daniel's waist, extended a hand to pull James close, and said, "We'll be a family. This year about to start, we will be a family."

James ruffled Daniel's hair, "A family?"

Daniel nodded, and looked at the floor. He wasn't sure if he was more happy or more embarrassed. He glanced in the direction of the pool-room. Part of him would have preferred to be there. It wasn't that he didn't want to be a family with the Chases, but he was fourteen! Too old to be cuddled.

The goodbyes started shortly after midnight. For the older people, it was a hardship staying up late, although the younger ones, led by a nephew of James, had loud music pumping in the pool-room, and no-one was looking like they were thinking of bed, - or not for sleeping. Daniel slipped away from the Chases, and joined Jason, who'd had the dubious success of getting brief pecks on the cheek from both the girls he'd been with. Harry was still very involved with Amy, but the company was thinning rapidly, as parents sought out their children. Amy had come with Christine and her parents. She gave him a last kiss, and whispered something in his ear that had him grinning.

By two, the last guest was gone, and Harry looked around, and ordered Daniel and Jason, "Drinks removed, food put away, glasses and plates in the dishwasher, not the crystal."

Vera intervened wearily, "Just the food and drink tonight. We'll do the rest tomorrow."

The boys were quick and efficient. Whenever not watched, Harry used magic to help it go quicker. Mr. Chase sat in a chair, yawned, and watched with approval. Daniel came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a cloth, "That do, Ricky?"

Harry nodded, "That'll do."

"Did you wind up making a date with Amy?"

"The day after tomorrow."

James said, "A bit old for you, isn't she, Ricky?"

Harry shrugged, "It's not like we're intending marriage, and she has her own car, even her own flat. I reckon I'll stick with her just as long as she's willing to put up with me."

"What happened to Catherine?"

"She prefers to look for a more socially acceptable boyfriend. Amy is not as particular."

"Does she know how old you are?"

"She doesn't seem to mind." He rose, politely asked if there was anything else wanted before bed, and retired. He had a room to himself, while Daniel and Jason were sharing.

The Chases had thought they were tired. After a half hour waiting for sleep that didn't come, Vera asked softly, "Are you asleep?"

"I still haven't wound down, I guess."

"The boys were good."

"Troy was asking about Ricky, what we know about where he came from."

"What do we know?"

"Virtually nothing. Daniel said he was orphaned young, and we know that he didn't have birthday parties."

"He knows his way about a kitchen, and cleaned up very efficiently."

"Did I tell you what Jason did?"

"What?"

"Bloody Billy Higgins spiked the Punch in the pool-room. Jason told me before any damage was done."

"Thank goodness he did, then."

"He also said that he made a pass at Ricky."

"Billy! Surely not!"

"We won't have him here again. Daniel's just as goodlooking as Ricky, and a lot more innocent. I won't have him exposed to that sort of thing!"

The talks strayed to other gossip, became more desultory, and then Vera heard her husband start to snore. She settled down, feeling soothed by the rhythmic sound. It was always easier to sleep to that soft sound. Only on rare occasions did he get loud enough to disturb her.

Two hours later, she blinked open her eyes. Her husband was already awake. He said, "The boys are arguing, I think. I'll go."

Vera rose as well, "He might be having a nightmare." They could hear a muttering, rising and falling, but when they peeped into the younger boys' room, they were both sound asleep. James said, "Ricky then."

A voice was suddenly more clear, pleading, "Don't take me. Don't lock me up, please!" It subsided again. The Chases looked doubtfully at the closed door of Ricky's bedroom, not knowing whether to enter. The boy begged again, pitifully, "I never told anyone, please leave me alone," and then he screamed, finally waking himself up.

Softly, James Chase pushed open the door, seeing the youth sitting on the side of the bed, trembling, his head down, and tears on his face. Vera went straight to him, and took him in her arms. Harry stiffened, and Vera soothed, "Hush, it's all right now."

Harry tried to say that he was fine, and they could go back to bed. James watched from the corner. Vera caressed a hand over his hair, and hugged him closer. Harry couldn't help himself. He started to sob helplessly, crying as he hadn't cried since he'd been very small. The Dursleys always punished if he cried.

He woke early, relieved that no-one else seemed to be stirring. He wished he could just disappear, but that would be too rude after the Chases' kindness. Instead, he busied himself cleaning and tidying, a tiny alarm spell set to alert him if anyone else appeared. There might be questions if they saw how quickly and easily things became more orderly. There was a broken glass, one of the fine crystal set. He hesitated over whether to repair it, but in the end only gathered up the pieces and put them aside.

His alarm went, just a tiny noise in his head, and when Vera Chase looked in, he had the dishwasher going, and was wiping the benches. She smiled, "Thank you, Ricky."

Harry said anxiously, "I did all the crystal by hand. I know they're not supposed to go in a dishwasher."

"Someone's taught you well."

Harry ducked his head, he'd never felt so self-conscious in his life. He mumbled, "About last night, I'm awfully sorry."

"Because you had a nightmare? Dan told me weeks ago that a lot of the boys had nightmares."

"My room-mate never does. I'm accustomed to having a shoe thrown at me if I make too much noise, not to someone being nice."

"Do you have nightmares often then?"

"Not often."

Vera changed the subject, "We're going to Plymouth. They have a big festival on New Year's Day."

Harry beamed, "Great."

Vera smiled, "It's a bit far, so we go by helicopter!"

"Wow! Jason will love that!"

"You?"

"Me, too. I've never been in a helicopter."

Vera asked seriously, "Have you had a very limited life, Ricky?"

"I'm only sixteen. There hasn't been time for much."

Jason appeared then, yawning, and hair standing on end. He said politely, "Good morning, Mrs. Chase," and then grinned at Harry, "Who did you dream was after you? I heard you yell."

"I dreamed you'd cloned overnight and there were suddenly six of you. Enough to make anyone yell in horror!"

Vera asked, "Ever been in a helicopter, Jason?"

The boys had a wonderful time that day. Jason refrained from teasing Harry any further about the scream that had woken him, and Harry managed to put aside his embarrassment at crying in the arms of Mrs. Chase. He remembered it, though. He had no real memory of Lily Potter, but there was the feeling of someone comforting him. Still, he was sixteen, seventeen really. He couldn't possibly really yearn for that feeling of being mothered.

***chapter end***