Harry led Mark out of the study and back out past the gargoyle. They then continued through the corridors, Harry pointing out things of interest as they passed, although Mark didn't seem nearly as interested as Harry had expected him to be. After all, he was a Muggle boy in Hogwarts, what more could he ask?
"What's up, Mark?" he asked at last, getting frustrated with the boy's continuing silence. Surely he hadn't turned into Snape, or something equally as odd. The younger boy thought a long while before answering.
"You aren't really a criminal, are you? Not like Big D is. And you don't really go to St. Brutus's, do you?"
"Not at all," Harry said reassuringly, glad that that was the only thing that seemed to be bothering him. "Unless of course, you listen to Professor Snape. My aunt and uncle no doubt thought it was funny to say that. As for Dudley, I used to be his favourite target before I came away to school. He still does sometimes, when he thinks he can get away with it."
"You don't like him?" Mark said tentatively. Harry looked at him; was this boy stupid, or just slow?
"'Course not. You know, Aunt Petunia still calls him Duddykins and Popkins. Feel free to spread that around next time you go home, it might do him some good to find out that not everyone's as scared of him as he thinks."
"Big D? Popkins?" Mark asked incredulously.
"Every time, even in front of his gang occasionally, but that doesn't happen much."
"Why doesn't he pick on you now? You're not particularly tough, are you?" Harry winced, this kid had no tact whatsoever, and no knowledge at all of the wizarding world. He was going to have his work cut out.
"He's too scared I'll do magic on him, even though he knows we can't do any magic out of school until we're seventeen and come legally of age."
"You mean I won't be able to turn him into a frog?" Mark asked, sounding disappointed. Harry grinned at him, suddenly the boy sounded far more promising.
"No, but there's lots you can do - I'll show you sometime, and get a couple of friends onto it. They owe me big time, so I'm sure they'll come up with something. Your dad seems nice, I've never really met him before."
"Yeah, he is. My mum's dead, so he's brought me up on his own. What did he mean about cousins anyway? 'Cos, I know that I don't have any."
"You do. My mum was his first cousin, apparently, although I never knew it before either before today. I guess you know what my aunt and uncle are like, that's probably why. Well, this is the entrance to the Gryffindor tower. Gryffindor's one of the houses at Hogwarts, there are four. I'm in Gryffindor, and you'll be staying here with me over the holidays, but you could end up in any of them. The portrait's called the Fat Lady, so if you get lost, you can ask the other portraits where to find her."
Mark stared at the moving portrait.
"Do all pictures move here, or am I just seeing things?"
"Don't worry, you're perfectly sane. Most do, portraits and photographs at any rate. You can develop your film in a special potion to make it happen, I don't know the exact method. The portraits talk as well."
Harry stepped up to the portrait and grinned, knowing he was about to surprise Mark.
"Excuse me, is there a password yet? I haven't been told one, so I hope not."
"No, not unless the Headmaster requests it," the Fat Lady said dryly. "There never is over the holidays."
"You mean I could get into the Slytherin dungeons?" Harry asked, very interested now.
"Of course not!" she said, sounding horrified. "You're a Gryffindor, they'd never let you in."
"Shame. This is Mark Evans. He's only starting this year, so he hasn't been Sorted yet, but Professor Dumbledore says that he's staying here for the holidays."
"In you go then, Potter. I will allow him access until the beginning of term. After that, if he is not in Gryffindor, he will have the same visiting rules as any other student."
"Of course, thank you."
The portrait swung open inwards. Mark gasped loudly and Harry laughed.
"Come on Mark, she'll close again in a moment and I don't want to have to come out and fetch you."
Harry swung him up inside in a single smooth movement and led him down the narrow corridor into the common room itself. Mark looked around at the large but homey room with the fire crackling under the mantelpiece and the portraits full of gossiping pictures, then went over to look out of the window.
"Wow! How big is this place?"
"Well, it's a castle, no one knows exactly how big because new parts keep appearing, and some old parts vanish if they're unused for too long. You get to know your way around. I'll show you the dormitory where we'll be sleeping, then I'll take you outside and you can see for yourself, okay with you?"
"You bet! I'm not going to get bored this summer."
Now that Mark was completely satisfied that Harry wasn't an escaped inmate of St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, he became far more talkative. When Harry led him back to the Great Hall for lunch, he was getting as irrepressible as Colin Creevey on a bad day, and that was saying something. They'd already been around most of the school on a whirlwind tour, and planned to have a go at Quidditch that afternoon if nothing else came up. Mark had never played before, of course, but he was fascinated by anything and everything that he came across, and on this point Harry was inclined to agree.
Dumbledore waved them up to the staff table to take seats, where he, Snape, Mr Evans, Flitwick and McGonagall were already sitting, waiting for them before they started. Harry smiled as he saw Mark gaping at the golden tableware and gasp as the food appeared magically onto the plates. The shock didn't however stop him from tucking in enthusiastically, and soon everyone had finished and was comfortably full.
Much to Harry's dismay, Dumbledore had something to say to them both before they could escape.
"Professor McGonagall thinks that we should arrange for you to get a wand as soon as possible, Mark," Dumbledore said benevolently, beaming at them. "I'm not sure quite what you and Harry are planning to get up to, but I'm sure that a wand would come in handy. We can leave the rest of your things for a while, you won't need them until September. Professor McGonagall has offered to take you and your father as soon as you're ready."
"Professor, we were going to play Quidditch this afternoon, or start to anyway. . ." Harry began tentatively.
"Plenty of time for that this evening or tomorrow. We are going to discuss your extra lessons this afternoon."
"We're going now Albus," Professor McGonagall said. He smiled absent mindedly at them, then turned back to Harry, who was sitting bolt upright in his seat, looking as though he'd just been hit in the face by a Bludger.
"Extra lessons?"
"Of course. Now you're here, it would be a shame for you to waste the opportunity to do some extra training. Minerva and Lysander Flitwick will help Mark settle into the wizarding world while we're busy. You will have plenty of time for Quidditch, don't you worry. I would suggest that we now adjourn to my office, where we can continue this discussion in comfort."
"Yes sir," Harry sighed, now fully resigned to his fate since the Headmaster was so decided.
"What's up, Mark?" he asked at last, getting frustrated with the boy's continuing silence. Surely he hadn't turned into Snape, or something equally as odd. The younger boy thought a long while before answering.
"You aren't really a criminal, are you? Not like Big D is. And you don't really go to St. Brutus's, do you?"
"Not at all," Harry said reassuringly, glad that that was the only thing that seemed to be bothering him. "Unless of course, you listen to Professor Snape. My aunt and uncle no doubt thought it was funny to say that. As for Dudley, I used to be his favourite target before I came away to school. He still does sometimes, when he thinks he can get away with it."
"You don't like him?" Mark said tentatively. Harry looked at him; was this boy stupid, or just slow?
"'Course not. You know, Aunt Petunia still calls him Duddykins and Popkins. Feel free to spread that around next time you go home, it might do him some good to find out that not everyone's as scared of him as he thinks."
"Big D? Popkins?" Mark asked incredulously.
"Every time, even in front of his gang occasionally, but that doesn't happen much."
"Why doesn't he pick on you now? You're not particularly tough, are you?" Harry winced, this kid had no tact whatsoever, and no knowledge at all of the wizarding world. He was going to have his work cut out.
"He's too scared I'll do magic on him, even though he knows we can't do any magic out of school until we're seventeen and come legally of age."
"You mean I won't be able to turn him into a frog?" Mark asked, sounding disappointed. Harry grinned at him, suddenly the boy sounded far more promising.
"No, but there's lots you can do - I'll show you sometime, and get a couple of friends onto it. They owe me big time, so I'm sure they'll come up with something. Your dad seems nice, I've never really met him before."
"Yeah, he is. My mum's dead, so he's brought me up on his own. What did he mean about cousins anyway? 'Cos, I know that I don't have any."
"You do. My mum was his first cousin, apparently, although I never knew it before either before today. I guess you know what my aunt and uncle are like, that's probably why. Well, this is the entrance to the Gryffindor tower. Gryffindor's one of the houses at Hogwarts, there are four. I'm in Gryffindor, and you'll be staying here with me over the holidays, but you could end up in any of them. The portrait's called the Fat Lady, so if you get lost, you can ask the other portraits where to find her."
Mark stared at the moving portrait.
"Do all pictures move here, or am I just seeing things?"
"Don't worry, you're perfectly sane. Most do, portraits and photographs at any rate. You can develop your film in a special potion to make it happen, I don't know the exact method. The portraits talk as well."
Harry stepped up to the portrait and grinned, knowing he was about to surprise Mark.
"Excuse me, is there a password yet? I haven't been told one, so I hope not."
"No, not unless the Headmaster requests it," the Fat Lady said dryly. "There never is over the holidays."
"You mean I could get into the Slytherin dungeons?" Harry asked, very interested now.
"Of course not!" she said, sounding horrified. "You're a Gryffindor, they'd never let you in."
"Shame. This is Mark Evans. He's only starting this year, so he hasn't been Sorted yet, but Professor Dumbledore says that he's staying here for the holidays."
"In you go then, Potter. I will allow him access until the beginning of term. After that, if he is not in Gryffindor, he will have the same visiting rules as any other student."
"Of course, thank you."
The portrait swung open inwards. Mark gasped loudly and Harry laughed.
"Come on Mark, she'll close again in a moment and I don't want to have to come out and fetch you."
Harry swung him up inside in a single smooth movement and led him down the narrow corridor into the common room itself. Mark looked around at the large but homey room with the fire crackling under the mantelpiece and the portraits full of gossiping pictures, then went over to look out of the window.
"Wow! How big is this place?"
"Well, it's a castle, no one knows exactly how big because new parts keep appearing, and some old parts vanish if they're unused for too long. You get to know your way around. I'll show you the dormitory where we'll be sleeping, then I'll take you outside and you can see for yourself, okay with you?"
"You bet! I'm not going to get bored this summer."
Now that Mark was completely satisfied that Harry wasn't an escaped inmate of St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, he became far more talkative. When Harry led him back to the Great Hall for lunch, he was getting as irrepressible as Colin Creevey on a bad day, and that was saying something. They'd already been around most of the school on a whirlwind tour, and planned to have a go at Quidditch that afternoon if nothing else came up. Mark had never played before, of course, but he was fascinated by anything and everything that he came across, and on this point Harry was inclined to agree.
Dumbledore waved them up to the staff table to take seats, where he, Snape, Mr Evans, Flitwick and McGonagall were already sitting, waiting for them before they started. Harry smiled as he saw Mark gaping at the golden tableware and gasp as the food appeared magically onto the plates. The shock didn't however stop him from tucking in enthusiastically, and soon everyone had finished and was comfortably full.
Much to Harry's dismay, Dumbledore had something to say to them both before they could escape.
"Professor McGonagall thinks that we should arrange for you to get a wand as soon as possible, Mark," Dumbledore said benevolently, beaming at them. "I'm not sure quite what you and Harry are planning to get up to, but I'm sure that a wand would come in handy. We can leave the rest of your things for a while, you won't need them until September. Professor McGonagall has offered to take you and your father as soon as you're ready."
"Professor, we were going to play Quidditch this afternoon, or start to anyway. . ." Harry began tentatively.
"Plenty of time for that this evening or tomorrow. We are going to discuss your extra lessons this afternoon."
"We're going now Albus," Professor McGonagall said. He smiled absent mindedly at them, then turned back to Harry, who was sitting bolt upright in his seat, looking as though he'd just been hit in the face by a Bludger.
"Extra lessons?"
"Of course. Now you're here, it would be a shame for you to waste the opportunity to do some extra training. Minerva and Lysander Flitwick will help Mark settle into the wizarding world while we're busy. You will have plenty of time for Quidditch, don't you worry. I would suggest that we now adjourn to my office, where we can continue this discussion in comfort."
"Yes sir," Harry sighed, now fully resigned to his fate since the Headmaster was so decided.