Life on the Streets
Chapter Three
David passed around the tray of coffees, having finally found himself a job
where he earned enough to keep himself alive and in relative comfort. He
didn't have to worry about being beaten, too often anyway and he had nobody
except himself to care about.
He was working at café de la morgain, a French café which served reasonable
quality food and the best coffee in town. David was rapidly developing an
addiction for coffee and quite frankly was getting bored.
The job in the café wasn't interesting, but then as far as he knew -
neither was his life.
"Can I get you anything else?" he asked the table kindly.
"Why don't you get yourself a cup of tea, David," said a kindly voice, "and
sit down with us."
David looked at the men more closely and realized that they were the four
men from that house three weeks ago, "Uh, no, it's alright," he shook his
head, "I'm still working."
"Your shift ends in ten minutes," said the greasy haired one, "I'm sure you
can spare us a minute."
"My shift doesn't end until midnight, tonight," David said quietly.
"But you've been working since it opened at seven, this morning!" Lupin
said surprised, "that's exploitation!"
David turned back to the table, "No!" he said fiercely, "I work these hours
because I have nothing else to do, I can barely read and write and this was
the only job I could find. All I wanted was enough money to buy a meal and
rent a room. I returned your dog, so would you just leave me alone!"
"But, Harry-"
"Harry?" David asked, going pale, "that's not my name!"
"You don't know your name!" Sirius said, "And this is your name. The scar
on your forehead tells us it is. You were left with your aunt and uncle
when your parents died, and they dropped you off in the street in the
middle of the night of April 23, meaning you arrived on April 24."
David, or Harry, blanched completely, "I think you're mistaken," he said
quietly, "I have work to do."
The four men sighed, "I'm sorry about this, Harry," one of them said
quietly, "Stupefy!" Harry, or David, collapsed to the ground and they
quickly disappeared with a 'pop' taking him with them and taking absolutely
no note of the startled faces that were staring at them around the café.
David opened his eyes and found himself staring at white walls, tightly contained in what appeared to be a hospital bed. He shrugged his shoulders and wriggled a little, to loosen the hold of the sheets. Immediately, hundreds of alarms went off and he grimaced, finally managing to sit upright and taking a good look around. It took less than thirty seconds for the elderly man with the white beard and grey hair to enter the room, a long pointed stick in his hand, "Sit down, Mr-.. Oh," David smiled, "I was just trying to get comfy," he said with a shrug, "it's not like you seem to be giving me a choice about being here, anyway." "We won't keep you here if you don't want," "It can't be worse than where I've come from." "Do I take that for an acceptance?" "Do I get a choice?" "There are always choices," "Yeah, that's why I'm sitting here," David said sarcastically. "You weren't exactly helping your cause by saying no," "I'm the one in the hospital bed to prove that either answer was probably as bad, no matter what I wanted," David sighed, "so can you get on with explaining why I'm here? Then I will make a decision, alright?" The old man nodded, "Yes. Now, where do I start." "The beginning usually helps," David supplied wisely. "Yes," the old man said slowly, "I myself have given that advice many times." "Perhaps it's time you started listening to yourself," "Perhaps," the man sighed, "well, I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Now, to start at the beginning; Your parents, Lily and James Potter were students of mine here about twenty years ago. They were perhaps the best students of their time, both top in their classes and head students. "They fell in love and got married. You were a bonus that they were ecstatic about. Unfortunately, they were also being chased by the darkest wi- man of their time, who happened to be nothing short of lethal. They went into hiding, but were betrayed by a close friend and were killed. Somehow, as a child, you managed to defeat this man, and that made you famous," "So you know who I am because I'm famous?" "We know who you are because of your scar. That scar was on your head as a baby, when we dropped you off at your aunt and uncle's after your parents were killed. It was, and still is, shaped as a lightening bolt. Your aunt and uncle fairly obviously abandoned you, but we didn't find out until ten years later when we tried to send your invitation to this school. Our tests showed that there were two children living at the house, and we couldn't detect that you weren't one of them. "As such, when a friend of mine went to pick you up and discovered you weren't there, there was an uproar and a search began. Your aunt and uncle claimed never to have set eyes on you, although we are almost positive that they lied." David stared at the man, "what was my name?" "Harry James Potter, and you were born on July 31st 1986," "You're not telling me something. If that's true, then I deserve to know the rest." "Do you believe me, then?" Dumbledore asked. David, or Harry (as he was unsure) turned his emerald green eyes on the man, looked him up and down and then met his eyes. Dumbledore was surprised to see the color fade from the green to a piercing blue, much like his own, and then a black depth of nothing, before returning to the emerald green that had cast tears into their eyes fifteen years ago, "Yeah," Harry said finally, "I guess I do." Dumbledore nodded sharply, "what I'm about to say will come as a bit of a shock to you, Harry, so please don't scream or do anything crazy." "I've always found that just spitting things out is the easiest way," Harry supplied helpfully. "You're a wizard." Instead of passing out or screaming or doing something crazy, Harry just laughed, "Sure, and the Pope is a Wiccan!" Dumbledore blinked, "No, really?" "Wizards don't exist. Magic doesn't exist. What does exist is what I can see - Oh shit!" He fell silent after his curse, when he saw purple sparks fly out of the stick, "can you make that flower into something else?" he asked after a moment. The older man nodded and with a wave of his wand, it was floating in the air and then had been turned into a chair. Harry nodded, "Alright, so Magic exists. How do you know I'm a wizard, then?" "Have you ever done something that isn't really possible, that someone said was weird?" Thinking for a moment, Harry shrugged, "not that I can remember." "Well, you have," Dumbledore said brightly, "we have records of all magic produced by every magical being." "So," Harry said slowly, "if you have records, how come you didn't come find me before now?" "Well," Dumbledore paled slightly, "we tried, but your location wasn't listed, and we couldn't recognize you." Harry shrugged, "So, you've told me all of this for a reason, I assume?" "You need to be educated, in magic." "What?" "You need to come to Hogwarts." "Why?" "Because you'll find people there who care about you and you'll find out about what you are." Harry shook his head, "Nope," he said firmly, "I'm going back on the streets, where I belong-" "No," Dumbledore frowned, "you belong here, and you know it." "Here?" "Where else did you think you were?" "A hospital!" "You are." Frowning confusedly Harry glared at the man, "Here's the deal: I don't want to be a wizard. I don't want the fame that you're implying comes from defeating the man and I sure as hell don't want to have to deal with weirdo's all the time." Dumbledore stared at him for a few moments and frowned, "I'll have to think about how to deal with this, but nobody can force you to stay - except Sirius." "How?" "He's your godfather, and no; he won't force you if you don't want to stay." Harry nodded, "than you go think about it, and I'll go back to sleep before I finally realize that I've finally gone insane and Esselte actually won."
David opened his eyes and found himself staring at white walls, tightly contained in what appeared to be a hospital bed. He shrugged his shoulders and wriggled a little, to loosen the hold of the sheets. Immediately, hundreds of alarms went off and he grimaced, finally managing to sit upright and taking a good look around. It took less than thirty seconds for the elderly man with the white beard and grey hair to enter the room, a long pointed stick in his hand, "Sit down, Mr-.. Oh," David smiled, "I was just trying to get comfy," he said with a shrug, "it's not like you seem to be giving me a choice about being here, anyway." "We won't keep you here if you don't want," "It can't be worse than where I've come from." "Do I take that for an acceptance?" "Do I get a choice?" "There are always choices," "Yeah, that's why I'm sitting here," David said sarcastically. "You weren't exactly helping your cause by saying no," "I'm the one in the hospital bed to prove that either answer was probably as bad, no matter what I wanted," David sighed, "so can you get on with explaining why I'm here? Then I will make a decision, alright?" The old man nodded, "Yes. Now, where do I start." "The beginning usually helps," David supplied wisely. "Yes," the old man said slowly, "I myself have given that advice many times." "Perhaps it's time you started listening to yourself," "Perhaps," the man sighed, "well, I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Now, to start at the beginning; Your parents, Lily and James Potter were students of mine here about twenty years ago. They were perhaps the best students of their time, both top in their classes and head students. "They fell in love and got married. You were a bonus that they were ecstatic about. Unfortunately, they were also being chased by the darkest wi- man of their time, who happened to be nothing short of lethal. They went into hiding, but were betrayed by a close friend and were killed. Somehow, as a child, you managed to defeat this man, and that made you famous," "So you know who I am because I'm famous?" "We know who you are because of your scar. That scar was on your head as a baby, when we dropped you off at your aunt and uncle's after your parents were killed. It was, and still is, shaped as a lightening bolt. Your aunt and uncle fairly obviously abandoned you, but we didn't find out until ten years later when we tried to send your invitation to this school. Our tests showed that there were two children living at the house, and we couldn't detect that you weren't one of them. "As such, when a friend of mine went to pick you up and discovered you weren't there, there was an uproar and a search began. Your aunt and uncle claimed never to have set eyes on you, although we are almost positive that they lied." David stared at the man, "what was my name?" "Harry James Potter, and you were born on July 31st 1986," "You're not telling me something. If that's true, then I deserve to know the rest." "Do you believe me, then?" Dumbledore asked. David, or Harry (as he was unsure) turned his emerald green eyes on the man, looked him up and down and then met his eyes. Dumbledore was surprised to see the color fade from the green to a piercing blue, much like his own, and then a black depth of nothing, before returning to the emerald green that had cast tears into their eyes fifteen years ago, "Yeah," Harry said finally, "I guess I do." Dumbledore nodded sharply, "what I'm about to say will come as a bit of a shock to you, Harry, so please don't scream or do anything crazy." "I've always found that just spitting things out is the easiest way," Harry supplied helpfully. "You're a wizard." Instead of passing out or screaming or doing something crazy, Harry just laughed, "Sure, and the Pope is a Wiccan!" Dumbledore blinked, "No, really?" "Wizards don't exist. Magic doesn't exist. What does exist is what I can see - Oh shit!" He fell silent after his curse, when he saw purple sparks fly out of the stick, "can you make that flower into something else?" he asked after a moment. The older man nodded and with a wave of his wand, it was floating in the air and then had been turned into a chair. Harry nodded, "Alright, so Magic exists. How do you know I'm a wizard, then?" "Have you ever done something that isn't really possible, that someone said was weird?" Thinking for a moment, Harry shrugged, "not that I can remember." "Well, you have," Dumbledore said brightly, "we have records of all magic produced by every magical being." "So," Harry said slowly, "if you have records, how come you didn't come find me before now?" "Well," Dumbledore paled slightly, "we tried, but your location wasn't listed, and we couldn't recognize you." Harry shrugged, "So, you've told me all of this for a reason, I assume?" "You need to be educated, in magic." "What?" "You need to come to Hogwarts." "Why?" "Because you'll find people there who care about you and you'll find out about what you are." Harry shook his head, "Nope," he said firmly, "I'm going back on the streets, where I belong-" "No," Dumbledore frowned, "you belong here, and you know it." "Here?" "Where else did you think you were?" "A hospital!" "You are." Frowning confusedly Harry glared at the man, "Here's the deal: I don't want to be a wizard. I don't want the fame that you're implying comes from defeating the man and I sure as hell don't want to have to deal with weirdo's all the time." Dumbledore stared at him for a few moments and frowned, "I'll have to think about how to deal with this, but nobody can force you to stay - except Sirius." "How?" "He's your godfather, and no; he won't force you if you don't want to stay." Harry nodded, "than you go think about it, and I'll go back to sleep before I finally realize that I've finally gone insane and Esselte actually won."