7th February 2020

Nigrum flos Mortis chpt3

Someone reads a newspaper

David reread the front page of The Times, the Dursley had been found guilty of child abuse and negligence and would be both serving life sentences in separate correctional facilities. The son apparently would be staying with his maternal aunt, hopefully, she would instil some compassion into the spiteful child. Harry would never have to see that horrible family again, unfortunately, they were no known living relatives or family members that could take him and he was to send off to an orphanage.

Harry was finally being sent off, the nurses gave him a little teddy bear and a small biscuit, Joan smiled at him and David gave him a little pat on the head as the matron came to pick him up. The matron was very short and had a soft face, she had taken his hand and lead him to a small car outside the hospital, helped him put on his seatbelt and driven them to the orphanage.

St. Peter's Home for Orphaned Children, was a very small and old building and was filled to the brim with children. St. Peter's was the last orphanage in Surrey as foster homes were becoming the more preferred method for taking in orphans. Harry had never seen so many children, ever.

There were children of all ages, according to Sister Racheal, the lady who had transported him. Harry was among the youngest, the oldest children being eighteen years old. Sister Rachael led him to a small room on the first floor and handed him a bag in which she placed a set of trousers, two shirts, four pairs of pants and socks, boots, a hat, a pair of mittens, and a green woollen coat.

"These will be your clothes now, make sure to take care of them, once you grow out of them they'll be given to someone else and you'll get bigger clothes. I'm sorry that they are not brand new, but they should last you a long time." Sister Rachael stated as she guided him out of the room and up a flight of stairs. She then walked him down a long hallway lined with doors on one side. At the very end of the corridor, she showed Harry into a room.

"You'll be sharing this room with three other boys," she took the bag and placed it on the bottom bunk, "breakfast is at seven am, lunch at noon, and dinner at six pm. You will hear the bell, don't be late. I'll leave you here to settle in and put away your clothes. The rest of your room is most probably out in the yard and will be back before dinner." With that Sister, Rachael walked out of the room and Harry was left to his own devices.

Harry looked around the room, there were two bunks pushed against the right and left walls, two wardrobes set next to the door frame. He assumed he wardrobe closest to his bed would be where he was supposed to store his clothes. His own clothes, not the hand me downs of Dudley. Harry had never been so happy.

The boys harry shared his room with weren't mean to him, but they didn't interact with either much. At least they didn't want to play Harry Hunting as Dudley had around the house. Dinner was tomato soup with bread and an orange. Harry was able to finish most of the soup and bread but not the orange, so he took it with him to bed. After brushing his teeth and taking a shower, Harry curled up beneath the duvet on his bed and fell asleep.

Lucius Malfoy was not a kind soul, but that did not mean he was incapable of love. Lucius held two people very close to his heart, his son Draco and his wife Narcissa. Draco was now six years old and brought joy to Lucius' world, he could never imagine harming his son.

An owl fluttered through his office window a collection of newspapers tied to its leg, some of which were in fact muggle. Although Lucius despised muggles, he was not clouded enough by prejudice to underestimate the fact that there were a lot of them and that their actions could affect a large per cent of the world. Lucius picked up The Times and glimpsed through the first page, a name catching his eye, not believing it Lucius began to read the whole article. Two adults had been found guilty of five years of child abuse and negligence, whilst normally not publishing the name of a child this one had no known relatives so they had been permitted to write it. The child, Harry Potter.

This could not possibly be the Harry Potter, could it? Lucius reread the article, finding a telephone number and address in muggle London given for anyone that knew anything about the child. Harry Potter according to Dumbledore was being raised in a loving home, away from the wizarding world's expectations and raised humbly. An abusive set of muggle guardians that resembled a walrus and a horse was certainly not that, right? But if it was, this would be horrendous and not to mention something that could be used against thee Albus Dumbledore. Lucius then thought who else from the Wizarding world would read a muggle newspaper, who would try and take Harry Potter for their own. That was it, Lucius needed to confirm for himself that this, not the supposed Chosen-One, despite the potential for this to be the Harry Potter being so little.

Lucius summoned his more muggle-style coat and stepped through his floo, calling out the Leaky Cauldron.