A/N: Here's the next chapter. I apologize again for it being so late. I've made good progress on the next chapter so I should be able to get it out on time next week. Thank you for your patience and understanding. Enjoy.

Chapter Ten

After leaving the Cullens Harry had fallen asleep in the car. Of course they hadn't left until well after midnight. There had been a lot of talking about magic and vampirism. They had talked some about their families, as much as they could with Harry being reluctant to go into his life with his aunt and uncle. There was some talk about the vampire's gifts. Then there had been some discussion about their expectations for future interactions and friendships.

When Harry woke up he was surprised to find that he was in his bed. He wondered how he had slept through Trinity putting him to bed. He really really hoped that she'd transfigured his clothes into pajamas instead of changing him. His scars were not something he was comfortable letting anyone see, most especially the ones under his clothes.

Reaching for his cane, Harry got out of bed. He took care of business before heading for the kitchen. He would shower and change after breakfast. He hoped Kreacher had something ready because he was starving. He wondered if Trinity was going to be up early again.

"Morning Kreacher," Harry said around a yawn.

The old elf looked up from his cooking and slowly blinked his huge eyes. He had this look of surprise every time Harry greeted him in the mornings. You'd think he'd have gotten used to it by now. "Breakfast is being done soon," he responded as gruffly as any elf could manage.

Harry smiled ruefully before taking a seat at the counter. It was the same every morning. He didn't think Kreacher would ever offer him a good morning. Even after the change in attitude and his constant help since the final battle the elf was still what he had been conditioned to be. And as old as he was Harry didn't think there was enough time to recondition him.

A plate laden with eggs, sausage, and toast was placed in front of him without a word. A butter dish and jar of strawberry jam was placed next to the plate. Kreacher was quick to give him silverware and a glass of milk. Harry wanted tea but he knew that he wouldn't get any until after he finished the milk. The elf was determined to keep him as healthy as possible. Harry knew that he would be expected to drink a glass of juice and a nutrient potion at lunch before he got his tea.

Between his injuries and his less than stellar upbringing Harry needed extra nutrients. He hated the potion and wouldn't have bothered to take it if left to his own devices. Of course, Snape and Pomfrey both knew this. After discussing it between themselves they had decided to sick the elf on him. Harry was his master and his master had to be taken care of at all cost.

"Kreacher, did you deliver my letters?" Harry asked.

"Yes Master Harry," the elf answered, "They is answering by owl they said."

Harry nodded before tucking in. As he ate he thought about what he could do today. All he really wanted to do was sit and relax. So did he want to watch TV, study, or read? Maybe Trinity would want to keep him company. Or maybe she would work on her magic again and he could watch. The way she did magic fascinated him.

"Has Trinity gotten up yet?"

Kreacher shook his head, "Mistress be sleeping still."

Harry watched as the elf plated Trinity's breakfast and placed it in stasis. What was he going to do with himself until his sister finally roused herself? As soon as he cleaned his plate the industrious elf whisked it away. He was finally given his tea to enjoy while Kreacher started cleaning the kitchen. The old elf did make wonderful tea. It was worth the milk and the nutrient potion.

The ringing phone startled him causing him to slosh his tea. Frowning at the admittedly small amount of wasted tea on the counter, Harry reached over and snatched the phone from the cradle. "Hello?" he spoke with mild annoyance. He didn't like wasting his tea.

"Hi Harry. It's Paul."

All annoyance forgotten, Harry smiled. "Hey Paul. What's up?"

"Nothing much. I was wondering what you were doing today."

Harry finished off his tea and gave the cup to Kreacher. "I'm waffling between studying and television at the moment," he answered honestly.

Paul laughed lightly, making Harry smile. "As exciting as that sounds I was hoping to talk you into coming over. I was thinking about teaching you about video games."

Now that sounded much better than trying to wrap his head around math. And Trinity was easier to get along with in the afternoons when she was more awake. "That sounds good. Are you going to come and get me? Because I can't drive."

"You can't drive. Why not?" Paul's voice was full of surprise.

"Never had any reason to learn," Harry said with a laugh, "Now with this bum leg I don't see it happening any time soon. It's easier not to drive and right now, I'm all about easy."

"I guess I can understand that. When you're ready I could teach you. But for now I can pick you up. It's not a problem."

"Great. How long until you get here do you think?"

"About twenty minutes I think."

That would give him just enough time to shower and get himself put together. "I'll see you in a bit then. Bye."

"See you soon."

Harry put the phone back in the cradle and hurried off to his room. He rushed through his shower being careful not to fall. Once he was finished he was grateful to find that Kreacher had been in to lay out his clothes. The elf must have been sorely disappointed not to find any wizards robes. Harry was glad to only have jeans and shirts available because any other option would have him digging through his closet trying to find something suitable to wear around muggles.

He found Kreacher cleaning the already spotless living room. "I'm going over to Paul's today. Will you tell Trinity when she wakes up?"

A sharp jerk of his head was the only response Harry got. Taking that as a yes Harry sighed and went out onto the porch. Paul was just pulling up when he closed the door behind him. Checking to make sure his wand was secure against his forearm, Harry stepped off the porch and headed to Paul's truck. The Quileute boy grinned and Harry was quick to return it with one of his own.

Harry put his cane in first and then heaved himself into the truck. It was much higher off the ground than Trinity's car. "You need a smaller truck," Harry joked when he was finally settled in.

Paul laughed, "No can do. I need it for work."

Harry heaved a heavy sigh, "Well, if we're going to be friends I suppose I'll just have to get used to it."

His new friend laughed harder and Harry joined him. It felt good to laugh. He'd laughed more since leaving England than he'd laughed in years. The two of them fell into comfortable silence for the rest of the trip to Paul's house. And Harry was glad they didn't feel the need to talk. Sometimes talking was overrated.

Paul pulled up to a small brown house with black shutters and a long front porch. There were two rocking chairs on one end and two tall tool boxes sitting on the other. Next to the house there was a garage that was nearly the same size as the house. There wasn't much of a yard because the house backed right up to the trees. It looked peaceful and homey.

Paul was tense beside him. Harry wondered what was wrong with him. "This is great. You live here?" Harry said with a brilliant smile.

His companion relaxed ever so slightly. "You think it's great?"

Harry nodded vigorously. "It's like a little slice of heaven. It's peaceful and perfect and feels a little like home."

The smile on Paul's face was a mix of relief and pride. "Thanks, I like it too. Come on, let's go inside."

Gingerly lowering himself to the ground Harry turned his attention to the garage. "Why is the garage so big?" He asked while reaching for his cane.

Paul mumbled something under his breath. And Harry saw something completely unexpected. The big, copper skinned man had gone all shy on him and he was blushing. He hadn't thought that Paul was the shy type. "What did you say?" Harry asked after closing the door.

Straightening his shoulders and clearing his throat Paul said, "It's my workshop."

"Your workshop? That's where you made that beautiful mirror and all of that furniture at the B&B? Isn't it dark in there? How do you work in the dark?"

"I expanded the garage last year. I added a lot of skylights and since we don't actually get a lot of sun I also put in a lot of lights and extra outlets." Whatever bout of shyness Paul'd had just moments before seemed to have vanished. Now he was speaking with pride.

"Can I see it?"

The hesitation was so small that Harry almost missed it. "Sure," he said before leading the way to the building.

Harry started after him, moving slowly as per usual. Paul soon realized that he was leaving him behind and slowed his pace. Whatever he was thinking he was kind enough to keep it to himself. Maybe Trinity wasn't the only one who knew how to hover without hovering. None of his friends in England could do it or would do it. Maybe they'd known him too long and still saw him as that frightened eleven-year-old that they met on the school train. The people here, including Trinity, had only ever known the too-stubborn-for-his-own-good man that he'd become.

"How long have you been making furniture?" Harry asked as they reached the workshop.

Paul shrugged, "I've been wood working most of my life. My dad used to be really good at it before his eyes started to go. I love it and people tell me I'm good. It's soothing. And it helps pay the bills, the tourists really go for handcrafted stuff."

Harry nodded, "Tourists are one thing but according to Mrs. Miller and Chief Swan the locals want your work too. Have you ever considered the internet? My aunt used to buy all sorts of things from the computer."

Granted, Harry had never used a computer. He wasn't sure how the internet worked really. He just knew what he'd overheard Petunia and Vernon talking about when they were looking for something extremely expensive for Dudley. They hadn't been able to find it in London so they'd gotten it off the computer. Harry hadn't even been allowed to look at the computer until after Dudley had shoved it off the desk after losing a game. Of course it had been replaced post haste while Harry was left to clean up the mess.

"I never thought of it. It's only me and I can only work so fast. Once school starts I'll have even less time," Paul lifted the garage door, "I don't know if I could keep up with the kinds of orders that could possibly come from the internet."

"From what little I've seen, you're an artist, and the people I've met are always willing to wait for art," Harry told him as he followed him into the workshop.

If Paul responded, Harry never heard him. His eyes skipped over the tools. He had no idea what they were for so they didn't mean anything to him. All he could focus on was the pieces of furniture all around the big space. He made his way over to a chair that looked like a work in progress. The chair itself was finished but from the state of the carvings, Paul had a ways to go. Only one arm was done and the back was only half done.

Harry moved on to some of the frames hanging on the walls. These were finished and stained. He didn't understand what the designs meant, or even if they had a meaning, but they were intricate and beautiful. The detail was amazing. Even the finest wandmakers didn't put this much effort into their wands. He carefully traced the carvings on a few of these before moving deeper into the workshop.

There were tables, chairs, dressers and benches. Where there weren't tools hanging, the walls were covered with frames and mirrors and other decorative pieces. There were animal figurines and small boxes and even a few toys. Paul was either a faster worker than he let on or he never slept.

Then Harry spotted a trunk tucked under a work bench. It was made from a medium toned wood. It was a flat-topped steamer trunk with dark wood pieces where the iron hardware would be on a typical trunk. There were different nature scenes carved in the three panels on the front. Each scene had a wolf in it. The one on the left was stalking something hidden in the trees. The one on the right was drinking from a stream with two cubs under its feet. The largest panel in the center had two wolves howling up at the full moon. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

"I want this," Harry ran his hand over the front of the trunk the awe he felt clear in his voice, "How much do you want for it?"

"You can have it," Paul said gruffly.

Harry turned to look at him with a frown. "You put a lot of work into this. I want to pay for it. You can't just give it away. I won't take it if you're not going to let me pay for it. And I have an idea of what something like this should cost. So tell me what you were planning on charging for it."

Paul glared at him. The two of them entered a staring contest. Harry wouldn't lose. He'd stared down one of the worst dark lords this world had ever seen. He hadn't lost that one and he wasn't going to lose this one. Paul crossed his arms over his chest. Harry just kept staring. After about two minutes Paul was the first to look away.

He rattled off a price that sounded reasonable. Harry nodded. "Good. I'll have it tomorrow," Harry grinned, "You do amazing work."

Color stained Paul's cheeks as he looked back at Harry. "Thanks," he returned the smile, "How about those video games now?"

"Let's go."

Harry filled the trip to the house with questions about the technical bits of wood carving. What kind of tools and what techniques Paul used, things like that. It was interesting. From what Paul was describing, this work required a lot of patience. He didn't think that Paul's temper problem was as big of a deal as he was making it out to be. Maybe he was magnifying a few blow ups into a bigger problem. Harry knew what it was like to have bouts of temper, that didn't mean he had an anger management problem.

The inside of the house was nice, if a little small. The walls were painted a soft cream color. The furniture that Harry could see as they passed through the house was slightly worn but well taken care of. He did see a few handcrafted pieces, like the kitchen table, that were older but holding up very well. There were smaller pieces that Harry was sure that Paul had made. It was wonderful. He could practically feel the love in the house. Harry would have given anything to have grown up in a house like this.

Paul kept going until they reached his bedroom. The small room was almost completely taken over by the bed. Paul had to have made this. Harry had never seen a bed so large. Considering the size of the other boy, he needed a bed this size. There was a dresser squeezed in at the foot of the bed with barely enough room to open the drawers. On top of the dresser was a decent sized television and a gray box with two black things sitting on top of it. There was a shelf over the television that was lined with slim plastic boxes. Harry assumed these were the games.

"Have a seat," Paul motioned to the bed while he looked over the games.

Harry eased himself on the end of the bed. Paul was telling him about the games he had. He listened and waited for something to catch his interest. Five games in he found himself intrigued. "Civil war, dragons trying to take over the world, magic, werewolves and evil elves? I wanna try that one," Harry interrupted him before he could move on to the next game.

Paul grinned, "Great. It's one of my favorites."

He handed Harry one of the black things and turned on the television. Then he sat beside him and proceeded to explain about the controller and gameplay. It was going to be an interesting afternoon. The boys settled in to waste the day slaying dragons.

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Severus was still in a little bit of shock at receiving a letter from Harry. He had assumed that once the boy had left he wouldn't hear from him again. It's not they were close. He'd terrorized the boy for the majority of the time they'd known each other. Some of it had been for show and some had been because of his father but, no matter the reason, it certainly didn't endear them to each other.

When Harry decided to cut himself off from the world Severus had decided that that wasn't acceptable. Whatever his feelings were for Potter, he wouldn't allow him to become the same bitter hermit Severus was. It was too late for him but Harry still had plenty of time to prevent that. So Severus had bullied his way in and brought Poppy with him. Merlin knew the witch was better with people than he was.

Why had Potter even thought of writing to him? Severus certainly hadn't been nice to the boy. He had been curt and harsh during the visits, when he actually bothered to speak to him. His behavior had gotten him more than one glare from Poppy. But as far as he could tell it was about the only way to get a reaction out of Harry.

Harry had taken the time to thank Severus for not giving up on him and for introducing him to his sister. He even asked how Severus was getting along. And he told him a little about the new house and some of the people he'd met. The information was given in a general fashion, Harry wasn't willing to give up his location.

The letter had been delivered by Black's infernal elf. Harry still hadn't gotten himself an owl. Having no love for the elf, Severus had quickly sent the creature on his way. Severus sighed. Now he was going to have to respond to the letter and find an owl to deliver it.

The floo flared and Poppy stepped through without even bothering to announce herself. Her gaze darted to the letter in his hand before moving to his face. "Did Harry send you a letter too?" she asked, moving closer to his desk.

"He did," Severus sat back in his chair, "Though I am still trying to understand his reasoning."

Poppy sent him a bemused smile, "He cares about you Severus, the same as you care about him. You're relationship may never be a friendly one but you do care about each other."

To say he was horrified by this assessment was an understatement. Really, how could the woman say such a horrid thing? Was she trying to insult him? He'd never known her to be deliberately hurtful before. Honestly, him caring for the boy was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

"What did Potter want with you?" he practically growled at the woman.

"To tell me about his life and to thank me for taking care of him," Poppy sat in the chair across from his desk, "And he asked if I'd heard from any of his friends. If they'd asked about him."

Severus looked down at his letter again. Harry hadn't mentioned his friends to him. At least he knew his friends well enough to know that they wouldn't get in contact with him. "Have you heard from any of his friends?"

Poppy shook her head, "Not for months except for Mr. Longbottom. I don't believe Minerva has heard from Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger either. What do I tell Harry?"

Well used to being disappointed by children Severus wasn't the least bit surprised by this. "I've always found that honesty is always the best. It may hurt the boy but at least he'll know where he stands."

With a heavy sigh Poppy said, "I suppose you're right. I have to go write a letter to Harry. It's not going to be easy."

"And I'll go find an owl suitable for delivering to wherever Potter is living now."