Part VI: Building a Home
Chapter 5: Moving In
Everything was red. That colour was what met Harry's eyes first, and it was what consumed most of his vision as his eyes adjusted to the sight. Yes, there was red everywhere. Red skies, red mountains, red stretch of bumpy, rocky red ground. Not bright red like a stop sign, but rather the darker, less colourful red of slightly-dirty bricks.
Harry blinked a few more times to take it all in. Crates and pebbles and strange plumes of thick, black smoke that hovered around... bones?
Bell hopped up against the ledge, claws scrabbling against the windowsill as they tried to peek out as well. When that effort failed, however, Bell stretched their wings out and lifted into the air, flapping until they came to rest at Harry's shoulder level.
"Where do you think we are?" Harry asked the dragon. There were no plants and trees around them. Harry might have said they were in a desert, but it looked too red to be a proper desert. In fact, it was not quite like anything Harry had ever seen before, either on the telly or in picture books.
Bell only huffed a new burst of sparks into the air. Well, it wasn't as though Harry had expected a real answer.
Harry turned his attention back to the window. Namely, the large glass pane that stretched from just below his chest all the way up to the ceiling. There did not appear to be a latch on the window that would allow it to open up. But that made sense because the window was really big.
Harry mulled over this for a moment, then decided it was probably a good idea to leave it shut. What if the black smoke got into the house? Mr. Tom might be upset with him.
Outside was very interesting, though. There were some flappy creatures off in the distance, their bodies obscured by clouds. Or maybe it was more smoke? Maybe the creatures were dragons like Bell. Mr. Tom hadn't mentioned other dragons, though.
Harry squinted and carefully braced one palm on the glass, aware that his weight wouldn't be enough to break it but also conscious of the fact that he might be leaving fingerprints behind. The flappy shapes continued to the left, moving all together in one group. Harry had the sudden suspicion that those dark shapes were bats. But bats lived in caves, didn't they? And they only came out at night, and right now it was daytime.
It was supposed to be daytime, but based on the sky, it was hard to tell. The red made everything darker than made sense for daytime. But sometimes Uncle Vernon had gone on business trips in other places where the time was different. Maybe this was the same thing. Harry tried to think of places that were red and had bats and were not England. Unfortunately, nothing was forthcoming.
So Harry could only watch in awe as the bats made their way across the sky. Clouds of smoke moved along with the bats, revealing a structure in the distance. There was a tall building that looked like it might be where Mr. Tom said he and his employees worked. Only, where were the roads? Why would there be buildings in the middle of a space with no roads?
However, now that he thought about it, Mr. Tom didn't need a car to go places. He could use magic to go where he wanted. If everyone else had magic, then they didn't need cars, either.
Okay, so people didn't need roads here. Harry nibbled on his lower lip, now deep in thought. No cars, no roads.
But if all the other people here had magic, what would he do? Mr. Tom would have to take him everywhere. Harry didn't want to be a bother. Maybe he could just stay in the house all the time. A big house like this must have lots of things to do in it. While Mr. Tom was at work, Harry could look around and tidy up.
"But the house is very tidy already," Harry muttered aloud. Everything was very clean and pretty. Aunt Petunia would have fainted if she saw a grand house like this.
Bell nudged Harry's foot with a clawed hand. They must have gotten bored of the view and decided to land. Harry looked down. "Who do you think was at the door?" One of Mr. Tom's workers, maybe. Mr. Tom struck Harry as a very important man with lots of important things to do.
Oh, it was a working day, wasn't it? Yesterday had been a Tuesday. Harry frowned. Today was Wednesday, which was a working day, which meant that Mr. Tom probably needed to go to work.
"Maybe he's not coming back," Harry said doubtfully.
Bell coughed and bumped at Harry's foot again. Harry was about to ask why, but he was interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing just behind him.
Harry jumped and spun around. Then, all at once, he remembered that he had planned to close the curtains before Mr. Tom came back. "Sorry," Harry said immediately. "It's my fault the curtains are open."
Mr. Tom only looked at him for a moment. If anything, he seemed confused. "Your... fault?" he repeated.
"I said I wouldn't touch anything."
Mr. Tom's face smoothed over. His eyes flickered to the exposed window behind Harry's shoulder, then back to Harry. "There is nothing wrong with opening the curtain," Mr. Tom promised. "I was only worried that the sight of it would upset you, which is why I left them all closed."
"Oh." Harry wanted to look back at the window, only then Mr. Tom took a few steps forward. Harry waited, hesitating between his desire to turn around and his desire to keep an eye on Mr. Tom. "Is it because of the bats?" he asked. "I don't think bats are scary."
"Not because of the... bats." Mr. Tom shook his head, closing the distance between them by another few steps. His gaze wandered to the window a second time. Harry wanted to know what was out there that was so interesting. Had he missed something?
Mr. Tom came to a stop right in front of Harry and knelt down so that they were face to face. "Why don't we walk the rest of the wing so you can pick a room?"
Harry grew flustered. He didn't know how many rooms there were in this house, but if the rest of them were like the room he had woken up in, they would all be very big. The idea of having to choose one room over another was too difficult. "Any room is okay," he said, hoping that Mr. Tom would just pick for him and they could be done with it. "I don't mind."
"I'd like you to pick a room you will be happy in. Did you like the room from this morning?"
"It was a nice room," Harry said quickly. "I liked it."
Mr. Tom stared at him. Harry wondered if his fast answer had been too obvious.
"Why don't you tell me how you imagine your room to look like, then. Is it a big room? Does the bed have hangings?"
Harry dropped his gaze to the floor. He really, really didn't care what his room looked like. There wasn't anything he really wanted his room to be like, except maybe—
"I thought of something," Harry said bravely. "That I want my room to have."
"Oh?" Mr. Tom placed a hand onto Harry's shoulder. The weight of it felt heavy, but Harry liked the warmth. "What might that be, Harry?"
"Um, if it's okay, can my room be close to your room?" Harry would feel better in this big new place if he knew that Mr. Tom was not so far away.
"Yes," Mr. Tom said, dragging the syllable out. "Yes, we can pick a room that is close to mine. Shall we go?"
Mr. Tom looked at the window for a third time, and this was what prompted Harry to finally try and turn around. Only before Harry could do so, Mr. Tom took him around the waist and picked him up. Up Harry went, legs dangling as he was draped over Mr. Tom's shoulder like a small sack of potatoes.
"Hey," Harry protested. He hadn't agreed to leaving like this. "What are you doing?"
"We are leaving the room," Mr. Tom said promptly. Somewhere at Mr. Tom's feet, Bell let out a small roar of what was either agreement or disagreement. Harry hoped it was a roar of disagreement. This was a little embarrassing, to be carried out of the room.
But Harry was too confused to argue, so he let Mr. Tom carry him into the hallway. Once there, Harry was set upon the floor and the door behind them was firmly shut. Harry straightened his clothes in a huff and was startled to realize he was still in his pyjamas.
Mr. Tom must have caught his befuddled expression because he cleared his throat to get Harry's attention. "You may change once we've settled you in a room," Mr. Tom said pointedly.
Harry scrunched his face up. This was a trick to get him to pick a room.
"I like my pyjamas," Harry said loudly and crossed his arms over his chest.
Mr. Tom raised a brow at him. "I'm sure they are very comfortable."
Harry scowled a tiny bit, then dropped his eyes down slightly. Mr. Tom was wearing his usual fancy suit. Harry did feel a little underdressed standing here in his giraffe-patterned pyjama bottoms.
They stood there a second longer with no one speaking. Harry was aware that they were wasting time, but he did not want to give in. Mr. Tom made a soft tsk sound and held his hand out. As he did so, his sleeve moved up, revealing a bare wrist. Harry was used to seeing watches, and this was what reminded him of his earlier worry.
"Don't you have to go to work?" Harry asked, staring at the offered hand.
Mr. Tom flashed him a smile. "They can do without me for a day. Come now, Harry. I'd very much like to show you the rest of my house."
It did not take long for Harry to realize that he had been tricked. Or maybe 'tricked' was not the right word for it. After all, Harry had agreed to pick a room so long as it was near Mr. Tom's room. Only they had now walked through four different rooms, and Harry was no closer to a decision than he had been before.
"Where is your room?" Harry asked, the most demanding tone he had used all day. He did not quite believe that there were so many rooms to choose from, but he knew Mr. Tom would not lie to him. That was the promise they had with each other.
Mr. Tom turned to look down at Harry. "Why do you ask?"
"Can I see it?"
There was another pause, a longer one. "Our goal is to find you a room, Harry."
"Maybe if I see yours, it will help me pick?" Harry said hopefully. He widened his eyes a little for good measure, the way that had sometimes worked on his teachers at school.
"If you would like to, then we may," Mr. Tom allowed, though he still seemed doubtful. He gave Harry's hand a squeeze. "It is not a very exciting place to be, I can assure you. I do not use my room very often."
"Oh." That was besides the point of having their rooms next to each other, wasn't it? It was a little disappointing to hear that, but maybe now that Harry was living in the house, Mr. Tom would want to spend more time here. "I'd still like to see your room," Harry said, which was true.
Mr. Tom led him around the corner to another, shorter hallway. At the end of this hall was a single door. The door that led to Mr. Tom's room! Harry was equal parts excited and nervous to see it.
Harry thought often that the state of people's rooms said a lot about them. Dudley's room, for example, was filled with lots and lots of mess. Posters and toys and clothes everywhere. Aunt Petunia often asked Dudley to clean it up, but Dudley never listened. To make matters worse, Uncle Vernon tended to side with Dudley, which meant that the clutter stayed until Aunt Petunia got tired of seeing it and tidied it herself.
The master bedroom that belonged to Harry's aunt and uncle was spotless. Aunt Petunia was meticulous with the space, constantly fussing over the bedding and the curtains. Curtains open during the day, curtains shut during the night. Different blankets and sheets for every season of the year. On the wall opposite the bed, a large portrait of Petunia and Vernon on their wedding day.
For a man like Mr. Tom, Harry had high expectations, but he was unsure how those expectations would look in a bedroom. What colour would the walls be? The curtains? Would there be pictures on the walls, or only wallpaper? And if there were pictures, would there be people in them?
Mr. Tom never talked about having a wife or a family. Harry had the tiny hope that Mr. Tom, like him, had no one else. Then it would be perfect because they would have each other. Harry would be a good son, a better son than anyone else imaginable. He would keep his room tidy all the time and always do his chores without complaint.
The door pushed open, revealing darkness. Mr. Tom waved his hand and made the light go on. Harry stepped forward with eagerness and drank in the sight of the room.
The walls were a blue-grey colour that reminded Harry of his school trip to the beach. The colour looked just like the cloudy, overcast sky reflected on the wide stretch of endless water. It was a soothing colour that Harry felt made sense for a room meant for sleeping.
Speaking of sleep, the large bed had sheets and blankets that were a deep, darker grey compared to the walls. On either side of the bed were tall, skinny lamps that floated in the air. At the foot of the bed was a rectangular black rug that looked as though it would feel very soft to touch.
Harry wandered over to the bed so he could bend down and touch the rug. It was fluffy underneath his fingertips. Then he straightened, embarrassed that he'd gotten distracted. The rest of the room was fairly empty aside from a wide chest of drawers.
"What do you think?"
Harry spun around to face the doorway. Mr. Tom was watching him with a patient expression. "It's a nice room," Harry said. He didn't know what else there was to say. Every room they had been in, every room where Mr. Tom had asked him this question, his answer had been the same.
Mr. Tom nodded. "Would you like a room like this one, then?"
Harry frowned. Was it that easy? Did he want a room like this one? If he said yes, would they be finished? "A room exactly like this one?" Harry asked.
"Yes, if that's what you would like. I can remodel the room next door."
That made his decision for him. "Yes," Harry said immediately.
They left the room and headed back down the hall. Mr. Tom held the door open for Harry to walk in. This room was smaller than the master bedroom; the walls here were a plain cream colour and the bed was higher up off the floor. Harry wanted to see if he could climb onto the bed, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Stay still while I alter the contents of the room," Mr. Tom instructed.
Harry would never say no to seeing more magic. He stopped moving and nodded rapidly. "Should I hide somewhere?"
Mr. Tom laughed, but it was a friendly sound. "No, Harry. You are perfectly safe to watch from here."
Still, Harry felt a little nervous. He tugged at the hem of his shirt and shuffled closer to Mr. Tom.
Then the magic happened.
Mr. Tom waved a hand, the hand that was not holding Harry's shoulder gently in place, and the room changed. The colours of the walls and the furniture melted away, revealing the same colours of Mr. Tom's room.
Harry watched, fascinated, as the bed shrunk and the far wall expanded, moving and warping to accomodate large glass windows which were quickly growing to fill the new space. For a brief second, Harry caught a glimpse of the red outside world.
But the sight did not last long—soon they were swallowed up by large blue-grey curtains. Harry shifted his weight from one foot to another. All the changes were exciting. He wanted to go over to the new windows and pull the curtains open, but he had the feeling that he would not be allowed to. Not to mention he had been told to stay still.
A large rug unrolled itself at the foot of the bed. It was even bigger than the one in the other room, and it looked just as soft. Bell would like to nap there, maybe, Harry thought. Then, like Harry had spoken aloud, Bell stomped over to the rug and laid down, tail thumping on the floor.
"Hey," Harry protested. "No moving."
Bell only made a funny whistling sound and grinned, showing all their pointy teeth. Mr. Tom cleared his throat and scowled at the dragon. Around them, the room shivered like it was adjusting to its new look.
"Is it done?" Harry asked. He wanted to touch the rug and climb on the bed.
"A few more things," Mr. Tom said calmly.
A lamp and a clock appeared on the bedside table. The lamp was tall and skinny like the lamp Mr. Tom had, but it was more colourful, like a lava lamp.
Lastly, a large transparent globe appeared in the air. It took a moment for Harry to realize why the globe was familiar. It was the globe that Mr. Tom had created yesterday to house all of Harry's belongings. Harry had forgotten that he had things to be put in his new room.
The globe moved slowly until it was within Harry's reach. Then the top half of the globe disappeared, allowing Harry to stick his arms inside and scoop his things out. Most of it was clothes, all of it folded in neat piles. Harry pulled his clothes out and wrapped his arms tightly around them.
"Can I put these in the drawers?" he asked, then waited for Mr. Tom to give him permission to move.
"I could use magic to place them?" Mr. Tom offered. With a new hand gesture, the chest of drawers opened up all on its own, revealing empty insides.
"I can do it," Harry said stubbornly, and marched over to put his things away. The big globe floated after him as he did so. Harry tucked his shirts and socks away, then moved onto his trousers and underthings. Then once all of that was done, he looked over what was left.
A few beaten-up copies of books Dudley had gotten as presents from other relatives. Other toys that Dudley either had not liked, or had broken and given up on. Harry picked up the books and set them in a tidy stack on top of the dresser. The covers were in good condition because Dudley had never bothered to look at them.
Then Harry reached for the toys. First, the stick of pink chalk that he had spent so much time keeping safe. With careful hands, Harry lifted the chalk out of the bubble and walked over to the bedside table. Then he opened the top drawer and placed the chalk inside. He shut the drawer slowly to make sure the chalk didn't roll, then turned his attention back to the globe, which had once again followed him.
At the bottom of the globe were the tiny toy soldiers that had kept Harry company for the past two years or so. Some of them were missing their swords because Dudley had snapped them off, but Harry didn't mind. The soldiers didn't need their swords to be brave.
Harry picked up a few of the figures and held them up to eye level. They looked... different. The colours were brighter and the paint was clean.
Confused, Harry put the soldiers in his hands aside and went searching through the rest, looking for his favourite. The soldier that Harry had named Lancelot, after the knight. Lancelot no longer had a sword, but Harry liked him because his smile seemed very kind.
After poking around, Harry located Lancelot and picked him up. Lancelot now had a sword, and his sash was redder than it had been before. His helmet even looked shiny. Harry ran his finger over the top of it.
"I took the liberty of making some repairs," came Mr. Tom's voice from just behind Harry's shoulder. Harry jumped a little and whirled around to stare.
"Thank you," Harry said, full of awe. He lifted Lancelot up again, adjusting the soldier's arm so that it waved. "This one's my favourite."
"We'll have to give him a place of honour, then." Mr. Tom smiled widely and stepped towards Harry. He pushed the globe aside so that he could sit on the edge of the bed, and then he gestured for Harry to come closer. Harry climbed onto the mattress and settled in place next to Mr. Tom.
Harry still had Lancelot in his hand as Mr. Tom placed his hand back on Harry's shoulder, like it belonged there, and nudged gently. Harry obeyed, shuffling closer so that he could feel the warmth coming from Mr. Tom's body.
Then a castle appeared on the bedside table. It was not a big castle; it was a small one, sized perfectly for Lancelot and his fellow knights. There were tall towers and thick walls and a pretty courtyard with trees and grass in the middle.
"Wow," Harry said. The castle looked very real. Too real to be a toy. "Is this a real castle?"
"This particular castle is called Hogwarts," said Mr. Tom. "So yes, it is based on a real castle. I thought it might make an excellent home for your knights."
Harry stretched over to place Lancelot in front of the castle. To do so, he had to brace his hand in an awkward position on the bed. His arm wobbled slightly, and for a moment he was scared he would fall over, but thankfully that did not happen and Lancelot was deposited safely upon the side table without harm.
"Can we visit Hogwarts some day?" Harry asked as he straightened back up.
Mr. Tom hesitated, his hand moving to steady Harry's back. "It may be difficult to arrange, Harry. But someday, perhaps."
"Okay," Harry agreed, thinking maybe he had asked for too much. He had just been given his own room. A new room done up just for him. "It's okay if we can't."
"Someday," Mr. Tom repeated, more warmly this time. "I shall do my best to make it happen."
Carefully, Harry worked his arm out from where it was pinned against Mr. Tom's side so he could give the man a hug. "Okay. Thank you for the room," Harry mumbled. "I like it a lot. And thank you for fixing Lancelot."
The hand on his back rubbed a gentle circle. "You're welcome, Harry. It brings me great joy to be able to do these things for you."
Harry felt his face heat up, so he buried it away in the fabric of Mr. Tom's shirt. "Thank you," he repeated.
There was a funny sound in response, only Harry didn't want to lift his head up to check Mr. Tom's expression. The two of them sat in the quiet for a while, listening to the soft thump of Bell's tail on the carpet. Eventually, Harry relaxed enough to tilt his head back and look at his brand new toy castle.
Someday. Harry could be content with that.
A/N:
i got zero brain cells so all i have to say is i hope y'all like the chapter sdgkljslkg because i have mixed feelings about it