Hand-Me-Down Clothes

Mrs McGonagall, Aunt, Mummy or Grandma?

The next morning Harry Potter awoke at the sprightly hour of 6:15am. Heavy scarlet drapes covered the huge floor length windows but a crack showed the steel grey of early morning light. Harry cautiously sat up in his makeshift bed and looked around, last night he had been too sleepy to really take in his surroundings, but now he was awake and curious.

His bed, he immediately noticed was situated at the foot of an absolutely humongous four poster bed, which could easily sleep seven people to Harry's eye, (it was more like four), and in it was the familiar mound of a person, covered by an intricately detailed and rather heavy looking eiderdown. Deep red curtains hung from the elevated polished posts, tied back by thick sashes, and the posts themselves were heavy polished oak, thicker than the span of Harry's hand. Looking across the room, opposite, Harry saw, hung above a cherry wood dresser, an enormous tapestry that reached to the ceiling (domed high above) picturing a lion, a serpent, a badger and a raven in regal poses.

Harry found the opulence almost overwhelming and was even more impressed by the size of the bedroom, it was oval with many big (sometimes barred) doors leading off, the floor was covered with many rugs in varying states (from threadbare to soft and lush looking) and the furniture, though placed a little haphazardly was magnificent and mostly far taller than little Harry. It was a room fit for a King and Harry thought it was the most magnificent thing he had ever seen!

Rubbing his eyes, Harry glanced again over at the sleeping figure in the oversized bed, quietly he slipped from his own cot and softly padded around the ledge of the bed (as high as shoulder almost) to see if it was Mr Dumbledore.

To his silent yet intense relief it was. Mr Dumbledore lay on his side, his silver beard tucked beneath him, startling blue eyes closed peacefully and his hands loosely holding the bed linen up around him. Every so often he would let out a soft snore with a particularly heavy breath and his moustache would quiver, in a rather comical manner. Harry couldn't help but giggle, instantly Mr Dumbledore's eyes snapped open and Harry jumped in surprise.

'Harry?' said Mr Dumbledore, whose voice didn't sound nearly so awake as his face looked.

'Yes sir?' squeaked Harry, nervous that he would be told off for waking the man up.

'Ah,' Dumbledore twisted his head to look at the clock on the cabinet beside his bed, he couldn't help a slight grimace at the time. 'What are you doing up so early?'

'I woke up sir,' said Harry with an astonishing grasp of the obvious. Dumbledore found it in him to chuckle gruffly.

'Aren't you tired?' he asked.

'Not really,' said Harry, shivering, his pyjama's didn't insulate him from the early morning chilly air. Dumbledore, upon seeing this, shifted back from the edge of his bed and turned back the covers, wincing as he pulled on his beard.

'Get in Harry, you'll catch a chill, and that wouldn't be an auspicious start to your time here.'

Harry stared at Dumbledore with an uncomprehending look upon his pale little face.

'Get in, child,' repeated Dumbledore gently giving the boy a little smile.

Harry twisted his hands together for a moment longer, he could remember times when he'd had nightmares and had crept up to his Uncle and Aunt's bedroom and asked to sleep with them, and had been cruelly refused. Had, alone in his cupboard tried with all his tiny might to stay awake, gnawing his finger nails and clutching his pillow in fear of the dream returning and knowing that had it been Dudley with the nightmare he would now be safely ensconced with his parents, being comforted by a loving mother.

Harry had often wondered if there was something wrong with him, something that made him unlovable.

Some of his thoughts showed on his face and in his body language, and Dumbledore was a very apt reader of such things, he was about to make a move to physically pick the boy up when Harry abandoned his thoughts and scrambled up onto the bed.

Nervously Harry wriggled beneath the covers, terrified he would be told to explain his actions and sent back to the Dursleys, he lay rigid staring at the elaborate gold thread on the bed covers.

'Harry?' asked Dumbledore confused by the boy's sudden stiff behaviour, and he could be forgiven for having some dark thoughts about the Dursleys right then. Slowly he reached out and rested a hand upon the boy's skinny shoulder. 'Did you sleep well?'

'Yes sir,' replied Harry still studying the sheets.

'What happened to calling me 'Mr Dumbledore'?' asked Dumbledore. 'I rather liked it.'

'Um,' said Harry.

'Do you want to tell me what's on your mind Harry,' said Dumbledore in the tone of voice that said you will rather than you might. It worked on Harry who blurted his thoughts out in a highly confusing manner in about ten seconds with hardly any pauses.

Somehow Dumbledore understood Harry, and was quick to answer some underlying beliefs, whilst being secretly very relieved that his dark thoughts had not been realised.

'Harry your parents loved you very much.' There was no reply, Harry's parents were dead and Harry had never even seen a picture of them, he couldn't remember them either. 'You're a very lovable boy, I'm quite sure that you'll find lots of family to adopt you here at Hogwarts.

'You're not ever going back to Dursleys, Harry, whatever you do wrong in the future I will not punish you by sending you back to the Dursleys, and neither will I punish you for coming to me at night if you have a bad dream.'

'Really?' asked Harry, remembering the times Dudley had spent nights cuddled up to his mummy and daddy, and he had been left always alone in his little cupboard.

'Really,' said Dumbledore, smiling, he stifled a yawn and then looked down to see Harry's emerald green eyes fixed on him in watery adoration. 'Do you suppose I could get a little more sleep now, Harry? I'm an old man and I need my rest!'

Harry ventured a shy smile and was relieved to see it returned with twice the strength and twinkle.

'Yes, Mr Dumbledore,' Harry said, and as the old man closed his eyes and heaved a breath, Harry warily snuggled up to his protector and rested his head by his shoulder. Without opening his eyes Dumbledore wrapped one of his arms securely around the boy and hugged him close, but despite the appearance of sleep his thoughts were troubled and full of a boy who believed himself unworthy of love.

Later that same morning, around eight am, Dumbledore roused from a light doze (all he'd been able to achieve) to find Harry sound asleep with his head resting lightly against him, the small boy made a lovely picture, with his long dark lashes, slightly flushed cheeks and messy black locks.

As carefully as he could Dumbledore set about trying to disentangle the boy without waking him and managed to set the boy back against the white cotton pillows (monogrammed with the Hogwarts crest) still sleeping tranquilly. Unfortunately as he eased himself up from the bed the mattress squeaked and Harry stirred and opened his bleary eyes to see Mr Dumbledore sitting on the edge of the bed dressed in his purple pyjama's (don't ask).

'Is it time to get up, Mr Dumbledore?' he asked sleepily.

'You don't have to if you don't want to Harry, it's still fairly early,' replied Dumbledore.

'Can I please?' asked Harry, seeking permission to get up.

'Yes Harry, of course.'

Dumbledore waited for Harry to extricate himself from the bed covers before wrapping him in a dressing gown that was many, many sizes too big, and gesturing the child to follow. Dumbledore led Harry through one of the large doors, which despite it's apparent mass swung easily open before him, inside was the bathroom, and what a bathroom! The bath tub was a swimming pool to young Harry, and the soaring walls never-ending, the extensive tiling was impressively decorated with a woodland scene where the trees actually swayed in a breeze and a unicorn briefly flashed his horn before galloping off.

Harry was delighted, the dressing gown he was wearing fell in folds around his feet and stopped him from exploring but he was fairly content just to stare and stare.

'Do you like it?' asked Dumbledore, eagerly. 'I had it done for myself, the old Headmaster had a Hawaiian beach,' Dumbledore made an expression of distaste, 'not really my scene. So I changed it to this. Every so often you do unfortunately get an actual person wonder across, which can be embarrassing, but not very often.'

Harry stared at Dumbledore, 'People walk across it?'

'Yes. Once I was in the bath and a muggle couple walking their dogs came past, terribly difficult to explain,' said Dumbledore, frowning at the memory.

Harry just stared, sometimes Mr Dumbledore was very strange.

'Come,' said Dumbledore briskly. 'We must wash that sleepy looking face of yours and give your teeth a brush, we don't want them to fall out!'

With which startling statement he bustled Harry along to surprisingly normal looking sink, lifted him onto a box that had suddenly appeared and administered a flannel, before bustling back to his room to change. The only unusual thing, thought Harry as he spat out his toothpaste a little later, was the fact that the sink swallowed excess water and toothpaste with a friendly glug gulp, and the mirror told him to brush his hair.

Exiting the bath room he was met with a dressed Albus Dumbledore, whose robes were just as excessive as the other day only this time they were dark green with a silver edging.

'Finished with the bathroom, Harry?' asked Mr Dumbledore.

'Yes, thank you.'

'Here are your clothes, I've shrunk the shirt a little, but I'm afraid it's the best I could do for now. We'll have to go shopping soon.'

Harry was left alone again as he changed back into the Dursley clothes (as he was silently christening them) and found that the shirt didn't bag down to his knees and the trousers suddenly fit around the waist. It was a novel experience for Harry and he spent some time expanding and letting loose the new elastic on the Dursley's hand-me-down trousers.

A soft swish of wings announced the arrival of Fawkes, who was very pleased to see Harry and showed it by coming to a stop in midair in front of him and butting his head forward to be petted.

When Albus Dumbledore came out from the bathroom, it was to find Harry in midair, held secure by Fawkes and swooping around the room making whooshing noises, for a moment he thought his heart stopped.

'Fawkes! Bring Harry down now!' Dumbledore called, trying not to let his voice croak.

Fawkes obliged, dropping the boy right in front of Dumbledore so that he had to catch him, Harry was giggling so hard that Dumbledore couldn't find it in him to scold and instead said,

'Lets go down to breakfast Harry.'

Luckily it was not yet term time, it was the latter end of August, and the professors had all returned a week or so early to prepare for the new year that was starting on September the first, but no students were actually present yet.

Harry was enchanted by the Great Hall, his awe was visible as he gazed around with wide eyes, as if trying to see as much as he could all at once, eagerly pointing out the floating candles to Mr Dumbledore and the long polished house tables. When Dumbledore showed Harry his own seat the response was suitably satisfying as the seven year old boy ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the gold encrusted ornamentations and it's scarlet satin padding. Finally hunger over came enthusiasm and curiosity and Harry was sat (with the help of a large cushion (thank you professor Flitwick) on a chair beside Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall.

'Good Morning Harry,' said Mrs McGonagall in her concise manner. 'Albus.'

'Good Morning Minerva,' beamed Albus, in good humour. 'Harry, would like milk or orange juice?'

'Orange juice please Mr Dumbledore. Hello Mrs McGonagall,' said Harry, taking Albus' cue and smiling at the lady he had met the night before. 'How are you?'

'I'm very well thank you,' responded Minerva McGonagall, unable to stop her lips from twitching.

'Harry and I need to go shopping later, to buy him some new clothes,' began Albus, broaching the subject to Minerva. 'I wondered if you wouldn't mind coming with us, seeing as I've little of no experience of buying children's clothes.'

'Well, neither have I Albus, or did you suddenly forget that I have no children?' said Minerva, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

'Two head's are better than none,' replied Albus.

'Two head's are better that one, Albus,' corrected Minerva.

'I thought you were always saying that my head's full of nothing but candy floss and sugared sweets?'

Minerva McGonagall mentally began to count down the days till the next summer holiday where she could once again escape.

'Do come Mrs McGonagall,' said Harry, reaching up to tug her sleeve. 'Mr Dumbledore said they do honey and toast ice cream there.'

Minerva pursed her lips and glanced at Albus Dumbledore, he made a baby face at her and she glared fiercely before giving in and laughing.

'I'd love to come Harry, and I think we'll buy some new glasses for you while we're at it,' said McGonagall, peering through her own at his battered ones.

'I don't have any money,' suddenly realised Harry, looking distraught.

'That's okay Harry, we do,' said Albus seriously, in a confident manner, the edges of his mouth creasing.

'You shouldn't have to spend it on me,' protested Harry looking genuinely distressed.

'I am now your legal guardian Harry,' said Dumbledore, glossing over the fact that he hadn't actually officially told any one he had taken the boy, though Arabella would undoubtedly be giving an informative report to the Ministry. 'It is my job to look after you, and besides,' Dumbledore leant down and whispered in Harry's ear. 'I'm rich.'

'Really?' asked Harry, who seemed to ask that a lot.

'Really,' confirmed Albus, recognising a little ritual here. Minerva was looking disapproving so he shrugged helplessly at her indicating he had had little choice.

'Aren't you going eat anything?' asked Minerva, looking in concern at Harry's empty plate and bowl.

'I was waiting for everyone to finish,' said Harry, looking up at her with those large innocent eyes that spoke only truth. Minerva McGonagall glanced over at Albus with a forbidding look on her face, chewing the inside of her cheek in an effort to keep from being rude about the Dursleys.

'You can start to eat whenever you want here, Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'Would you like toast or cereal?'

'Cereal please,' said Harry quietly, looking small and lost sat next to Albus' big ornate chair.

'Which sort?' asked Albus, waving forward 6 packets of brightly coloured wizarding cereal, Harry gaped at them, he'd never heard of the like before. There were Cauldron Crunches (a favourite of Severus Snape's much to everyone's secret amusement), Wonderful Wheat Wands, Transfiguring Tortoises (first a tea pot and then a tortoise), Dizzy Dollies (brightly coloured figures shaped a little like a doll, would stagger around your bowl as if inebriated), and all of it made from ingredients that actually were edible.

'It was Albus' turn to pick the cereals this week,' explained Minerva McGonagall to a slightly over-whelmed Harry. 'He always picks the most bizarre.'

'Headmaster,' suddenly sounded a distasteful voice. 'Why is Harry Potter here?'

'Good Morning Severus,' said Dumbledore expansively. 'I'm Harry's new guardian.'

'Oh no,' said a voice that sounded like it had just received the worst news it could ever have dreaded hearing. 'Please tell me you're joking. What was wrong with his previous guardians, he's been there for the last six years!'

'Ah well,' said Albus, feeling another spasm of guilt at this reminder. 'They were inappropriate, and thus he is now staying with me.'

All the professors at the staff table were indiscriminately listening in to hear answers to questions they were simply dying to ask.

'Inappropriate? Who cares, why bring him here?' practically snarled the voice.

'I'm his guardian, after his kin,' explained Dumbledore unaffected by the intensity of the voice. Harry took up the Transfiguring Tortoises and carefully poured some in his bowl, he watched them pop randomly into different shapes and looked worried.

'What is it Harry?' asked McGonagall, watching him watching the cereal.

'Will it still pop in my tummy, Mrs McGonagall?' asked Harry, looking concerned.

'No Harry,' replied Mrs McGonagall, stifling a laugh. 'It's only a charm, a magical spell that wears off once it gets to your tummy.' She poured him some milk and Harry set to work with some enjoyment.

'Mrs McGonagall?' said the snide voice. 'Since when was Professor McGonagall married! What an unlikely vision, the prudish head of Gryffindor walking up the aisle-'

'That will do Severus,' ordered Dumbledore firmly, Snape had crossed the line into insulting. The other staff members studied their breakfast foods, when Dumbledore spoke like that they all felt as though they were nought but school children again.

'I just-' began the sulky voice.

'That will do,' repeated Dumbledore, not even raising his voice, he was concerned for his age old friend Minerva McGonagall who looked rather upset or angry.

'Are you married Mrs McGonagall?' asked Harry, innocently coming to the defence of one of his two new friends.

'I was once,' said Mrs McGonagall, very quietly, but everyone heard anyway, straining as they were to hear.

'What happened?' asked Harry reaching for Mrs McGonagall's hand as a shadow crossed her face.

'He died,' she said shortly, allowing Harry to slip his hand into hers. 'A long time ago.'

The silence at the table was absolute, only Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey had known that Minerva McGonagall had once been married and was now a widow.

Harry was a sensitive little boy, perhaps because his upbringing had lacked any love he sought it where he could find it and understood expressions of sadness or sorrow, having known them himself. Slipping, half falling, from his seat Harry, in an uncharacteristic display of affection (he had never had anyone to show it to before), scrambled up onto Minerva McGonagall's lap and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She buried her face in his messy hair and hugged him tightly back, both receiving comfort from the embrace.

'My Mummy and Daddy died,' said Harry after a little while. 'I don't remember them very much at all, but I miss them. I expect you miss Mr McGonagall too.'

'Yes,' said Minerva indistinctly.

'We could be each other's family, because we haven't got a real one anymore,' said Harry shyly.

'What do you mean?' asked Minerva McGonagall faintly, sitting back a little to make them both more comfortable.

'I don't really know,' admitted Harry, who now looked contrite. 'I'm sorry.'

'No, that's okay Harry, I would love to be a part of your family,' Minerva smiled at Harry as the little boy gave her a wide smile, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek tenderly.

'Oh!' exclaimed Harry loudly. 'We forgot Mr Dumbledore!'

'Forgot what?' asked Albus, who had jumped at Harry's exclamation.

'Mrs Figg's present to Aunt Minerva,' reminded Harry, bouncing on Aunt Minerva's lap as she had just been christened.

'Aunt Minerva?' wondered that lady vaguely.

'Oh yes,' murmured Albus, searching his robe pockets with a piece of toast still in his mouth.

'Grandma?' asked Harry, carefully watching Minerva's face. 'Mum?'

'Harry!' protested Minerva, laughing helplessly.

'Sorry,' said the repentant boy, relieved to hear her laugh.

'Just so,' Minerva approved, reaching across and removing Albus' piece of toast from his mouth, his eyes laughed at her, sparkling brightly.

'Ah here it is,' said Albus drawing the 'present' out from an endless pocket.

'You had different robes on yesterday,' pointed out Harry, wondering how the present had moved from one set to this set.

'Magic!' said Dumbledore winking at Harry. 'Here you go my dear, apparently your favourite. Don't kill the messenger,' Albus winced in expectation of an explosion as he handed it over to Minerva.

'Oh I love these!' cried Minerva. 'You can only get the good ones in Muggle supermarkets though, strange no? I think the magic does something to the flavour.'

Albus unbent from his cringing position and stared incredulously at his deputy.

'You like fish,' he said.

'Mmm -hmm,' agreed Minerva, showing the tin to Harry. 'Always best with a saucer of full fat milk.'

Dumbledore stared, in fact so did everyone who was left at the breakfast table.

Glancing up Minerva burst out laughing at his facial expression. 'I love it when I get one over you,' she crowed, chortling.

She didn't stop laughing for ages.

Author's note: I suddenly realised that Harry Potter five was coming out this Saturday (well of course I already knew that, as it has been dominating my thoughts for a few weeks coughobsessioncough), and remembered that I had this to post. I realise that after the book comes out no one will want to read fan fiction (I mean who seriously would!) so I'm posting it now, more than a little rough at the edges with no polish, but it is very long (this is because it has not undergone the editing process yet). Forgive me for the lack of shine, the bits that should have been edited out (this is 3661 words long (roughly) compared to the usual 2,000 at the most!), and I hope you enjoy it.

I would do review thanks but I haven't got the time, you'll have to wait for me to write ickle bitty notes telling you all how much I love you. LoL

Thank You ALL for your lovely, amazing, supportive and friendly Reviews!