JP: Yeek! It's Chapter Two already! And Harry will be in it! Woohoo! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Anyway, Harry Potter and all related characters, locations, etc. are property of J. K. Rowling. I own Durren Meyer and Stephen Lister.
Chapter Two: Correspondence and Arrival
Harry Potter sat on –his- bed in –his- bedroom, flipping through one of –his- books on a fine Sunday morning. Apparently his Uncle Vernon was so terrified at the thought of Mad-Eye Moody coming to reap vengeance for any mistreatment of the young wizard in his charge that he'd let Harry do, watch, and have quite nearly everything he asked for. Of course, Harry didn't ask for much at all, but there was definitely something to be said for freedom.
He was currently engrossed in his Potions textbook - One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi - a definitely odd way to be spending his free time, though he'd be willing to do anything to keep Sirius' death from weighing too heavily on his mind. Molly Weasley had been a tremendous help in this area; her comforting words had helped him to realize that his godfather's death was not his fault by any means. Still, losing the closest thing he'd ever known to a parent was still enough for stabs of emotional pain now and then.
Ironically enough, Harry's magic-phobic uncle had only one condition for Harry's studies: stay in seclusion, keep it secret. This, of course, meant that Harry needed to shut and lock his door if practicing magic, keep the curtains and blinds closed, and not perform any flamboyantly loud or flashy spells. Spells – That was another thing. The flabbergasted Minister had recently revoked the Restriction of Underage Wizardry in light of the reappearance of the Dark Lord.
That said, the young wizard shut his Potions text and slid it under the bed, then reached around a bit and withdrew a rolled-up piece of parchment. He flattened it and spread it on the bed; Hermione's neat and immaculate handwriting outlined and described several spells – at least four of which were wandless. 'Great,' he thought. 'I'll just get right to work on these, 'Mione. Might be able to get one right in, oh, about three years or so.'
He withdrew his wand and set to work studying the first of these defensive spells. "Avarice, the exponential increase of the victim's own greed to the point of lunacy. Yeah, most Death Eaters are pretty greedy. And probably loony too. Oh well. Incantation; Ah-vah-ree-chay. Hmm, that sounds Italian." He pointed his wand at a sparrow sitting in a tree branch outside his window, aiming carefully.
"Avarice!" A small golden disk of light materialized at the end of his wand, then shot forward with a small flare, passing harmlessly through his window and hitting the sparrow with no noticeable effect. Harry watched the sparrow intently, but there seemed to be no change. Then, suddenly, it ducked its head, picking a stray twig and adding it to its nest. The bird then flew up to another sparrow's nest, ripped several twigs from it, and added them to its own.
"Wow. That's one greedy little bird." Harry congratulated himself on the successful cast of the Avarice spell. He moved on to the next – The Doppelganger Charm – but was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. He glanced up for a moment, waiting for Vernon to answer the door. Ding-dong. "Darn, that's right. They're out." He leaped from his bed and took the stairs as quickly (and safely) as he could, opening the door.
Into the face of Minerva McGonagall. "Good morning, Mr. Potter." "Professor! Um...I wasn't quite expecting you." He took a moment to glance at her – she was wearing Muggle clothing, and pulled it off quite nicely, as well. She was garbed in a simple white blouse and an emerald-green skirt. Her hair was in the characteristic bun and spectacles in place. This woman had obviously come from church.
"Yes, quite. The Headmaster and I have a bit of a favor of you, if you don't mind. May we come in, seeing as your lovely relatives are out for the moment?" Harry immediately stepped aside and beckoned them in. Then he did a double-take. "Er...'we', ma'am?" The woman frowned slightly, and moved aside to reveal the young man behind her. He had dark, golden-blonde hair cut nearly as short as Harry's own; slightly tanned skin, and piercingly grey eyes. He was dressed in a like manner to McGonagall, with a pressed white shirt, green necktie, neat black trousers and shoes. The new arrival seemed to size Harry up with an expression Harry found hard to read, then grinned slightly and held out his hand. "Stephen Lister. You'll be Harry Potter, right?"
"Um...yes, actually." He shook hands with Stephen, and then led the (most!) unexpected pair into the living-room where they all took seats. McGonagall nodded slightly to Stephen, then turned her attention to Harry and remarked, "Professor Dumbledore and I have a favor, as I said. Mr. Lister, here, was in Italy with his family, away with a friend, when his home was attacked by Death Eaters. His family escaped, we believe, but he now has nowhere to go.
"Giving him up as a ward of the Ministry would be the proper, but also the unwise thing to do, as the Minister has vanished. Mysteriously. Therefore, our theory is that Stephen ought to stay with a student of his own house. He is an exchange student, and is actually a nephew of one of the staff members at Hogwarts."
Harry opened his mouth, but Stephen cut him off. "Not to be presumptuous, I Mr. /I Potter, but you're going to ask, why don't I stay with my uncle? He's away for the first semester." Harry blinked. That tone sounded /very/ familiar to Harry, laden with some sarcasm, but he couldn't place it. Draco Malfoy, maybe. "Well, certainly, I guess, Professor. The Dursleys won't mind; they hate magic anyway. Um...there is the matter of living space...he could probably use one of my cousin's rooms."
McGonagall nodded and stood. "Thank you very much, Mr. Potter. I will see you and Mr. Lister in September, then." There was a slight popping noise, and she was gone in a blink. Harry gave what he hoped was a winning grin to Stephen. "Well, then. I guess you've got luggage somewhere?" The transfer student reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a few tiny trunks, set them on the floor, and targeted each with an enlarging charm. "Ah," said Harry, "That would do it, then."
As Harry led Stephen and his trunks upstairs, the Italian closed his eyes for patience and sent his thoughts skyward. 'Merlin, Albus. Only because it's you.'
JP: Well, there's the second chapter. After goodness only knows how long. But I'm not busy for a week yet! So hopefully a chapter a week will be coming! R&R, please, and tell your friends!
