Disclaimer: Harry Potter, names, characters and related indicia are
copyright and trademark Warner Bros. But don't sue me, I'm not doing this
for money. I know very well that J.K. Rowling is the one that created the
characters I'm just borrowing them to see what I can do with them.
Chapter 6 Breakfast
When they entered the kitchen at her house, they were greeted by her mother, who was cooking breakfast. It smelled wonderful, and it made him remember he had not eaten anything all day yesterday.
'Mom, this is Harry, our next door neighbour. You know, the one that was chased by the dog. Remember him?' She introduced him.
'Yes, of course hello Harry, I'm Jane.' The woman greeted Harry.
'A pleasure to meet you, ma'am.' He answered quickly. It felt strange; he wasn't one to have any friends in Little Whining.
Her mom looked somehow like an older version of Spica. The same black hair with bluish shine their features were almost the same excepting the eyes that unlike Spicas were a normal blue, but that still didn't make them ordinary. The woman was about the age his mother would have been and this put a knot in his stomach.
'Mom, where did you put my jeans?' A voice coming down the stairs called.
'How could I know?' she responded.
'You always know...' the girl stepped into the kitchen and set eyes on Harry. He had seen her yesterday.
'Who are you?' she questioned.
'Harry Potter.' He answered matter-of-factly.
'Right', she answered simply, before turning to the take a seat at the table. The girl looked a lot like Spica with the exception of her hair, which was strawberry blond, and her eyes were sky blue.
'That's my sister, Charon. Oh, and take a seat will you.' Spica informally introduced them. She took out the plates and placed them on the table. Harry wanted to help but instead sat down, obeying her command. A man entered the kitchen and the girl chorused 'Morning dad.'
Harry could now see from where Charon had gotten her blond hair. Their dad had almost silver-blond hair, which reminded him of the Malfoys, but this man had nothing of the trademark Malfoy smirk. He was wearing an almost Lockhart-ish smile.
'Morning girls and...who are you?' he questioned.
'Harry...Harry Potter, sir.' Harry stood up so that his stool almost clattered to the floor.
'See you already made friends.' He said, turning to his daughter. 'Nice to meet you Harry, I'm Jonathan Moore.'
He also took a seat at the table. Harry felt a little odd sitting there; no one had asked him questions, they were being nice to him. It was almost like the Weasley family, though there weren't even half as many people in the kitchen, and the place was a lot tidier.
Spica's mother filled all their plates with food, and just like Mrs. Weasley, she filled his plate to more than full, although Harry wasn't complaining; he was starving by now.
'So, Harry, for how long have you been living here?' asked Jonathan.
The interrogation had started; Harry didn't know if he was prepared for it. Would he be able to pass all the suspicious bits of his life unnoticed? 'Ever since I can remember'
'Someone can actually live that long in this place? Where are we-n the very civilized middle of nowhere?' Charon said sarcastically.
'Charon, please. What have I told you about' her mother scolded her.
'Yea, yea, mum. All right, I'll just keep my thoughts to myself.' She grumbled.
'Where do you go to school, Harry?' Mrs. Moore asked, dropping the bomb. Harry couldn't answer well, he was going to Hogwarts a school for witchcraft and wizardry. He also couldn't tell them he was going to Saint Brutus' School for Incurably Criminal Boys,l where the Dursley kept saying he went.
When she didn't receive an answer straight away, she added. 'Is it near here? The girls aren't yet in any school, so I just wanted to know where I ought put them.'
This made Harry a little less tense, and seemed to make the girls a little bit apprehensive. 'Mom please don't talk about school during breakfast, it'll ruin the rest of the day.' Said Spica.
Charon's reaction was completely different; she jumped up from the table and ran up the stairs. Her outburst seemed to go unnoticed by the family. Strange family, Harry thought to himself.
He enjoyed breakfast a lot. Mrs. Moore wasn't as good cook as Mrs. Weasley, but compared to the hostile atmosphere in the Dursley home towards him, this was something he could get used to fairly quickly.
After breakfast, Spica told him she would like to invite him to her room, but she didn't know which one was hers yet, and, to tell the truth, there was no place in any of the rooms to sit. The floor still being covered with boxes and knicknacks. This gave Harry a reason to excuse himself and leave for "home". Even in his mind the word didn't loose the sarcastic edge it held.
The welcome committee was waiting for him once he passed through the door at the Durlsey's. Uncle Vernon's horrible face was inches from his as he turned from the front door. But before the man started shouting at him, Ripper, who had waited patiently for him all this time on the front porch of the Moore's house, started growling at Uncle Vernon. Not even when Aunt Marge stepped in and tried to shoo the dog, he wouldn't budge from Harry's side. Seeing that there were having no effect on either Harry or the dog, Uncle Vernon sent him to his bedroom, threatening not to feed him for at least the next three days.
During all this, Harry hadn't said a thing. His mind was somewhere else. So, he thought, the dog in his dream wasn't Snuffles. It was Ripper. He had been mistaken. It was just a dream after all, not one of Trelawney's bloody prophecies. Though to tell the truth, it was ten times better than one of those. He didn't know why this made him feel so bad, but it did. He was on the verge of crying. But he wouldn't cry, not now, it made no sense, he told himself.
A.N.: well do you like it?
I haven't received any reviews so I'm just going to assume that the story is so good that you can't find anything to comment on.
Well still it would be nice to receive a small token of your appreciation in the form of a little review. So push that button now, don't be shy.
Chapter 6 Breakfast
When they entered the kitchen at her house, they were greeted by her mother, who was cooking breakfast. It smelled wonderful, and it made him remember he had not eaten anything all day yesterday.
'Mom, this is Harry, our next door neighbour. You know, the one that was chased by the dog. Remember him?' She introduced him.
'Yes, of course hello Harry, I'm Jane.' The woman greeted Harry.
'A pleasure to meet you, ma'am.' He answered quickly. It felt strange; he wasn't one to have any friends in Little Whining.
Her mom looked somehow like an older version of Spica. The same black hair with bluish shine their features were almost the same excepting the eyes that unlike Spicas were a normal blue, but that still didn't make them ordinary. The woman was about the age his mother would have been and this put a knot in his stomach.
'Mom, where did you put my jeans?' A voice coming down the stairs called.
'How could I know?' she responded.
'You always know...' the girl stepped into the kitchen and set eyes on Harry. He had seen her yesterday.
'Who are you?' she questioned.
'Harry Potter.' He answered matter-of-factly.
'Right', she answered simply, before turning to the take a seat at the table. The girl looked a lot like Spica with the exception of her hair, which was strawberry blond, and her eyes were sky blue.
'That's my sister, Charon. Oh, and take a seat will you.' Spica informally introduced them. She took out the plates and placed them on the table. Harry wanted to help but instead sat down, obeying her command. A man entered the kitchen and the girl chorused 'Morning dad.'
Harry could now see from where Charon had gotten her blond hair. Their dad had almost silver-blond hair, which reminded him of the Malfoys, but this man had nothing of the trademark Malfoy smirk. He was wearing an almost Lockhart-ish smile.
'Morning girls and...who are you?' he questioned.
'Harry...Harry Potter, sir.' Harry stood up so that his stool almost clattered to the floor.
'See you already made friends.' He said, turning to his daughter. 'Nice to meet you Harry, I'm Jonathan Moore.'
He also took a seat at the table. Harry felt a little odd sitting there; no one had asked him questions, they were being nice to him. It was almost like the Weasley family, though there weren't even half as many people in the kitchen, and the place was a lot tidier.
Spica's mother filled all their plates with food, and just like Mrs. Weasley, she filled his plate to more than full, although Harry wasn't complaining; he was starving by now.
'So, Harry, for how long have you been living here?' asked Jonathan.
The interrogation had started; Harry didn't know if he was prepared for it. Would he be able to pass all the suspicious bits of his life unnoticed? 'Ever since I can remember'
'Someone can actually live that long in this place? Where are we-n the very civilized middle of nowhere?' Charon said sarcastically.
'Charon, please. What have I told you about' her mother scolded her.
'Yea, yea, mum. All right, I'll just keep my thoughts to myself.' She grumbled.
'Where do you go to school, Harry?' Mrs. Moore asked, dropping the bomb. Harry couldn't answer well, he was going to Hogwarts a school for witchcraft and wizardry. He also couldn't tell them he was going to Saint Brutus' School for Incurably Criminal Boys,l where the Dursley kept saying he went.
When she didn't receive an answer straight away, she added. 'Is it near here? The girls aren't yet in any school, so I just wanted to know where I ought put them.'
This made Harry a little less tense, and seemed to make the girls a little bit apprehensive. 'Mom please don't talk about school during breakfast, it'll ruin the rest of the day.' Said Spica.
Charon's reaction was completely different; she jumped up from the table and ran up the stairs. Her outburst seemed to go unnoticed by the family. Strange family, Harry thought to himself.
He enjoyed breakfast a lot. Mrs. Moore wasn't as good cook as Mrs. Weasley, but compared to the hostile atmosphere in the Dursley home towards him, this was something he could get used to fairly quickly.
After breakfast, Spica told him she would like to invite him to her room, but she didn't know which one was hers yet, and, to tell the truth, there was no place in any of the rooms to sit. The floor still being covered with boxes and knicknacks. This gave Harry a reason to excuse himself and leave for "home". Even in his mind the word didn't loose the sarcastic edge it held.
The welcome committee was waiting for him once he passed through the door at the Durlsey's. Uncle Vernon's horrible face was inches from his as he turned from the front door. But before the man started shouting at him, Ripper, who had waited patiently for him all this time on the front porch of the Moore's house, started growling at Uncle Vernon. Not even when Aunt Marge stepped in and tried to shoo the dog, he wouldn't budge from Harry's side. Seeing that there were having no effect on either Harry or the dog, Uncle Vernon sent him to his bedroom, threatening not to feed him for at least the next three days.
During all this, Harry hadn't said a thing. His mind was somewhere else. So, he thought, the dog in his dream wasn't Snuffles. It was Ripper. He had been mistaken. It was just a dream after all, not one of Trelawney's bloody prophecies. Though to tell the truth, it was ten times better than one of those. He didn't know why this made him feel so bad, but it did. He was on the verge of crying. But he wouldn't cry, not now, it made no sense, he told himself.
A.N.: well do you like it?
I haven't received any reviews so I'm just going to assume that the story is so good that you can't find anything to comment on.
Well still it would be nice to receive a small token of your appreciation in the form of a little review. So push that button now, don't be shy.
