Title: And the Walls of Safe Haven Come Crumbling Down
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: This chapter contains hints of pre-SLASH.
Disclaimer: They all belong to me! Actually sadly, I don't own any of the Harry Potter Characters, JKR does, but she's kind enough to let us borrow them for a while, because I'm making no money from them.
§ … § is Parseltongue
Chapter Two
Harry
woke up quite early the next morning – early enough that Aunt Petunia hadn't
unlocked his bedroom door. He lay in bed for a moment, relishing the luxury,
when he suddenly noticed that his birthday cards and presents were scattered
over the floor. A quiet hiss told him that his new friend was awake.
§ Hello there. Do you have a name? § Harry studied the snake, and was studied
in return as the baby African Rhinoceros Viper rose up to his eye level.
§ The other one of your kind called me Nyissuss. You may call me what you wish.
§ Harry was startled as Nyissuss, apparently deciding that was the end of the
conversation, slithered up Harry's sleeve and wrapped himself around Harry's
waist.
Moving carefully, so as not to disturb the snake, Harry looked at all his
presents again. Rolling his eyes at the postscript on the letter from 'Gred and Forge', Harry put everything under the floorboard.
Running a hand through his hair, Harry frowned. His hair was…….wrong. Looking
in the mirror he gasped. Staring back at him from the cracked, speckled mirror
was a boy, a boy with hair that wasn't messy, merely slightly kinked, and long,
down to the middle of his ears. Suddenly the letter that had accompanied
Nyissuss sprung into his mind. At least
now I know Professor Snape hasn't gone completely insane. He thought. But this…this is going to take some
adjusting to. Harry hoped he'd see his father in private before the first
potions class of the year, because he wasn't quite sure what would happen.
Harry was still thinking about this as he got dressed, and Aunt Petunia looked
a bit put out that she hadn't been able to wake him up and call him lazy and
idle and such.
She merely sniffed and said "Go and make the breakfast. Make sure Dudley gets something nice to make up for
his allergies."
Making sure that none of the disdain he felt showed on his face, Harry headed
for the kitchen.
Dudley had gone for 'allergy testing' on the suggestion of one of Aunt
Petunia's friends. Apparently Dudley had an intolerance of gluten, yeast,
peppers, citrus fruit and lactose. According to the testers, as long as Dudley
didn't eat anything containing cow's milk or the other things on the list, he'd
feel much better and lose weight. Dudley didn't really care one way or the
other, but as Aunt Petunia bought him biscuits and bread made from gluten-free
flour and soya milk, and soya
ice-cream, he stuck to it, since it was better than some of the other diets
he'd been put on, and he was, surprisingly, actually losing weight. Harry
thought it likely that he'd be given a 'treat' and put back on again by next
summer though. Dudley wasn't actually allergic to anything on the list – if he
had been, he'd have been dead by now – but Aunt Petunia insisted on calling
them allergies.
Harry made a large saucepan of porridge as he did almost every day, what with
oats being gluten-free, and mixed in sliced bananas, chopped dried apricots,
and brown sugar. He placed the pot on the table, with three bowls, four spoons,
a ladle, and a small dish, like the ones they put individual desserts in at the
supermarket. He made a pot of tea for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and poured
a large glass of chocolate-flavored soya milk for
Dudley. For himself he got a small glass of water from the tap. He got the
newspaper and placed it next He stood back to wait for the rush.
Dudley thudded down the stairs like a herd of enraged elephants, Aunt Petunia
gave him suspicious looks, and Uncle Vernon ignored him and picked up the
newspaper. Having dished everyone else's up, Aunt Petunia picked up the small
dish. She ladled some porridge out trying very hard to make sure Harry didn't
get any of the fruit. She didn't succeed very well, since Harry had put a lot
in, knowing that he'd be accused of trying to starve Dudley if he didn't.
"Eat
it quickly. You will weed the garden, mow the lawn and go shopping. After lunch
you'll do your normal chores." She eyed Harry's hair. "I see you've finally
decided to make yourself presentable. Stop at the barber's and get it tidied up
or something. Here." Aunt Petunia placed some crumpled notes on the table.
"Well, get on with it!"
˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜
Standing
outside the barber's shop with hands full of shopping bags, Harry glanced at
the door with trepidation. It was silly, really. The idea of walking through
that door scared him more than the Tri-Wizard Tournament, well; right up
until…Harry stopped that thought before it started. Pushing open the door, he
stepped inside.
It had been a long time since Harry had been to the barber's, four years in
fact. The barber had obviously taken on an assistant, for a young-looking man
with short blond hair wearing an apron was walking up to Harry with something
material in his hand.
"Hello there, I'm Marc. Put this on. Now then, what are you here for?"
Harry blinked. "Could you tidy it up a bit, please?" Harry was led over to the sink and his mind
drifted as his hair was washed, tuning out Marc's voice, until a chance comment
caught his ear.
"…you're
hair is really fine, it'll be very flyaway or greasy if you're not careful, and
these natural highlights are gorgeous."
"Pardon?" Harry was
fairly certain that he hadn't had highlights that morning.
"Your
hair has these lovely red streaks. We charge customers £15 to add streaks like
these. I'm using a henna wash so they'll stand out more. …. Now, into the other chair." Time
seemed to fly by and all too soon Harry found himself staring at his new look,
with curtains of black hair framing his face. The red streaks here and there
gave Harry a tangible connection to his mother and he felt a lump form in his
throat. Turning away from the mirror, he spoke hurriedly.
"Thank you. How much do I owe you?"
Marc smiled and took a fiver from Harry, who was left with the suspicion he'd been
undercharged.
"There
you go. Bet this new look will have people swooning at your feet, eh?" Marc
winked at Harry, and Harry, who was very embarrassed and trying to find
something to say, was incredibly relieved when the barber, noticing Marc not
working, came to his rescue.
"Marc, stop flirting with the poor lad and get back to work. Don't worry about
Marc, lad. He's harmless, flirts with anything on two legs."
"I do not!" Marc called back. He winked at Harry again. "Only the good-looking
male ones." Blushing, Harry made his way back to number 4, Privet Drive.
˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜
After
putting all the shopping away, Harry realized that the house was extremely quiet. Thinking this was odd, he walked into the front room and found out why.
Dudley was standing in the middle of a circle of destruction, looking for all
the world as though he'd been hit with Petrificus Totalus, while Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were hiding,
or rather cowering, in the corner furthest from the door. Harry suspected that
was the only reason they were still in the room. All the evidence pointed to
one thing, but Harry found it hard to believe. Had Dudley really had an outburst of accidental magic?
Harry didn't find it so difficult to
believe when two minutes later a brown owl swooped through one of the shattered
windows and settled on the back of the sofa. Harry took the letter from it. It was
from the Ministry of Magic. It was almost identical to the one he had received
in second year.
"Could you wait, please?" Harry
asked, and the owl, who had just taken off, wheeled above his head, seemingly consideribg. "I need to send a letter to Professor Albus
Dumbledore." That apparantly was that for the wl settled on the mantelpiece and
waited for him to hand over the letter.
Harry was glad, because he'd sent Hedwig to the Burrow in case she got starved,
and he didn't know when she'd be back.
Harry grabbed the pen kept next to the phone for messages, and scribbled a note
in the gaps of the letter from the ministry. The result was something like:
"Dear
Mr Potter: Professor
Dumbledore,
†
It was my cousin, sir.
There
was an incident on 01/08/1995 at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging,
Surrey, of magic use in front of muggles, contravening the …"
"Here. Take it to Professor Dumbledore, please. This is urgent." Harry watched
the owl fly off. Then he started cleaning up the debris covering the room. It
was better to do it before Uncle Vernon started shouting.
TBC.
Well hope this satisfies everyone. My apologies to the people who got mad the first time round thinking I was misrepresenting celiac disease, that wasn't my intention and I hope I made things clearer. Celiac disease is a severe allergic condition where even a single bite of bread made with flour containing gluten such as wheat could kill the person it affects.
I also want to thank those people
since by taking the chapter down to remedy that, I think I made the rest of the
chapter and story better.
My apologies for taking so long on the rewrite, I'm glad all you people
reviewed. Feel free to review as I welcome feedback including critisism, but it by no means necessary for my writing.
See you around some time.
honor