Lost: Young Man, Answers to Harry

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Something was moving around Harry's feet. Slowly he opened his eyes, and again came the strange jabbing around his ankles. It was moving up his leg. Harry shot awake and rolled over, gasping as he snatched up his wand, which he had left resting beside his hand.

There was a creature of some kind crawling across the ground, but it had frozen as it heard Harry's gasp. It was holding a dustpan in one hand and a bristled brush in the other, with which it had been stabbing curiously at Harry's invisible leg. It had two huge, semi-luminous eyes which glinted in the faint light, but Harry could see very little else about it.

"What ghostie is this, Nudy?" the creature spoke. Harry stiffened and tried to repress the fear welling up in him. He had no room to manoeuvre if the creature attacked him, and his mind was devoid of spells. The creature continued to mutter to itself, "not ghostie, not beastie, so what is it, all in the way of Nudy's cleaning?"

"Go away!" hissed Harry, "leave me alone!"

The creature gave a frightened little cry and disappeared with a crack. Harry expected it to come back with a pack of friends, and he gripped his wand tighter. But the minutes passed and he could hear nothing but the bed creaking as Ron rolled over in his slumber. He shook his head, wondering what on earth had just happened, then lay down again and went back to sleep.

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Ron, still lying on his covers, leaned over and looked under the bed, his head dangling upside-down. It did not look as if there was anything under there but an old sock and a lot of dust. Perhaps he had dreamed the strange boy? Surely not. He brought his arm down and poked at the empty air, and, to his surprise and delight, felt the resistance of soft fabric.

"Harry," he whispered, "hey, wake up," he poked harder. After a few moments, he heard a rustle, and the invisibility cloak was drawn back to reveal Harry's head, blinking sleepily. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on, and they were dangling from one ear. He put them back on his face and peered at Ron.

"Oh," he said, "I really am here. I was wondering if I'd dreamed everything in the night."

"Funny that," said Ron. Harry watched his red head vanish, and then a moment later, Ron's bare feet and too-short pyjama pants were lowered onto the floor and he knelt to help pull Harry out from under the bed.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, yawning and clutching the invisibility cloak around him like a blanket so that only his head and one arm could be seen.

"I dunno. Early," said Ron, pulling on a jersey, "come on, let's go down to the common room before anyone else wakes up."

"Won't someone see me?" said Harry, following the back of his new friend's head.

"Well, what have you got that cloak for?" Ron said over his shoulder as they headed down the stairs, and Harry remembered he still had the invisibility cloak pulled around him. He lifted it up and vanished completely.

The common room was empty, the rosy morning sun shining through the high windows of Gryffindor tower and the grate full of cold ashes. Harry tried to take in everything at once, the squashy armchairs, the sofas that sagged from the weight of hundreds of students past, the tables with so many layers of graffiti they looked as if they were covered in insects, but it was like being in some strange land. It boggled him. Ron settled himself on a maroon sofa with stuffing popping out of the cushions, and Harry sat down on the armrest, still too nervous to get comfortable.

"So," said Ron, "you want hiding."

"I just don't want anyone to know I'm here," Harry explained, "not any of the teachers, or the students, or anyone. I wouldn't even have revealed myself to you, except that I don't know my way around. And besides, I have to get food somehow."

"Hmm," Ron seemed to consider this, "maybe we can find an old classroom that no one uses any more, and I'll get some blankets and things and we'll set you up camp there. I'll ask my brothers where the kitchens are, then you can go and get food by yourself."

"How many brothers have you got?" Harry asked. He could not keep track of all the Weasleys yet. He'd only counted five yesterday, but perhaps there were more lurking around the school, a whole network of red-heads hidden around every corner.

"Three at Hogwarts, plus Bill and Charlie who you must know, and Ginny, my sister," said Ron, and his face suddenly lit up, "you know what we should do? Talk to my Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Lupin. He's really nice, I'm sure he'll help hide you…"

"Er, no," Harry shook his head, then remembered Ron couldn't see him, "Lupin, of all people, must not know I'm here."

"Why not?" Ron seemed crestfallen that his idea had been rejected, "we can trust him, I know we can. Everyone likes him."

"He's my – well, he's like my uncle," explained Harry. He was so used to telling people Lupin really was related it seemed odd to debunk it, "he lives with me during the summer. He's bound to tell my godfather where I am as soon as he sees me."

"Oh," Ron made a face, "you really make things difficult, don't you? Well, I'll keep an eye out for an empty classroom then. Perhaps I could tell Flitwick I want somewhere to practise stunning spells – on second thoughts, better make it cheering charms or something nice like that – and then he could tell me which classroom isn't in use. We'll pick one near the kitchens, get the house-elves to bring us some bedding…"

"House elves?" asked Harry, nearly losing his balance on the sofa armrest, "there aren't house-elves here, are there?"

"Of course," said Ron, "who do you think does our laundry and things?"

Realisation suddenly dawn on Harry, "so that's what woke me up last night! There was a house-elf under your bed in the night," he told Ron.

"Oops, I hadn't thought of that," the red-haired boy made an apologetic face, "sorry. But I suppose they do clean up whenever we're asleep. That's what they're for, after all."

Harry tried to figure this out, "But…so they don't, you know, cause trouble, and steal things, and throw stuff at you when you're trying to do your homework?"

Ron laughed, "you must be thinking of poltergeists. House-elves are the little green things that bow and do the household chores. They live to obey humans. I've never heard of a house-elf that caused trouble! They're the most well-behaved creatures on earth."

"Not the one I know," Harry tried to process this new perspective, "but Sirius always said he was rotten. He's always calling me a scar-face and trying to put poison in our dinner. Once I caught him trying to eat my spell-books."

Ron laughed even harder, clutching his side, "I don't know where you live," he gasped through his laughter, "but I want to come over and visit. Anyway," he recovered himself and grew serious once more, "I'm afraid I don't have a clue how to find Dumbledore, but he must be somewhere in the castle. But, you know what…" he suddenly brightened, "we should ask the house-elves where we can hide you. They're bound to know!"

"Oh, I don't know…" said Harry hesitantly, "have you ever…?"

"It can't hurt," said Ron, jumping up, "after all, house elves are the best secret-keepers in the world. They'll never reveal you if we ask them not to."

He stood straight, cleared his throat, and said, a little self-consciously, "house elf! I…er…I summon you!"

Ron waited expectantly, but nothing happened. After a moment, Harry said, "maybe they're all busy cleaning out the bathrooms."

"No, no, a house-elf has to come when you call, I've seen people do it," Ron waved his hand dismissively, "house-elf!" he said, "Ron Weasley summons you!"

There was still no sign of any result. Ron shook his head, "maybe I'm not they're master or something. But I've seen Percy summon the Hogwarts elves, to clean up a mess Fred and George made once. Oh, bum!" he sat down angrily.

"Try calling them by name," Harry suggested, "I mean, they probably don't know which one you're talking to. Right now, they're all looking at each other, going 'you go and see what he wants!' 'No, you go!'" He put on a squeaky voice like the house-elf he had seen in the night.

"But I don't know their names," said Ron miserably.

"Nudy," said Harry suddenly.

"What'd you call me?" Ron bristled.

"No, that's the name of the house-elf I saw last night. Nudy!" Harry cleared his throat, and called loudly, "Nudy! Ron Weasley summons you!"

"Nudy!" Ron joined in, "here, house-elf…"

And, with a crack that made them both jump, a green, wizened little creature popped into existence in front of the couch. Around it's thin frame was a tea-towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, which it wore like a toga. It had a nose that drooped between its two huge yellow eyes like a very floppy sausage. It was a far cry from the filthy, hairy Kreacher that Harry had previously used as his model for house-elves.

"Good morning, Mr Weasley, sir," the house-elf bowed low, "it is not usual for good students to call on we loyal house-elves. Is there something you is needing?"

Ron, looking a little taken aback at being bowed to, took a moment to reply. Invisible Harry nudged him to wake him up, and Ron jumped as if someone had let off a gun by his ear, "er, yes," he said, "Nudy, I need you to find me a place, like a classroom, where I could hide without being detected by any students or teachers in the castle, and where I can live comfortably. Um. Yes, that's what I need."

Nudy, still bowed so low that his dangling nose was touching the carpet, said in a voice that Harry thought was laced with a little reluctance, "and why, may Nudy ask, would Mr Weasley need such a place?"

"Here, now!" Ron sounded dismayed, "house-elves don't question their masters!"

"Nudy is most apologetic," the house-elf raised his head, "Nudy did not mean to offend Mr Weasley. But Nudy is a good house-elf and Nudy is not participating in any bad deeds, and besides, Mr Weasley is not Nudy's master."

Ron grumbled, "it's not for anything dangerous," he said, "I just need somewhere safe for a friend to…er…take a rest. But it's not for any 'bad deeds'. I'm not even disobeying a teacher. Really, Nudy."

Nudy shuffled a little, "then, Nudy will tell Mr Weasley where such a place can be found. It is called the 'come and go room', Mr Weasley, or the Room of Requirement, and all us house-elves know it, but not many others, and they does not use it except by accident. It is always there, but only when a person is most needing it, and then it gives them what it is they is needing."

"Go on," said Ron eagerly, "where is this room? How do I get into it?"

The house-elf coughed, apparently still reluctant to reveal such important information to Ron. But at last he said, "Nudy will show Mr Weasley. Would he like to go now?"

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"This place is perfect," said Harry, pulling off his cloak and sinking into the feathery bed in the corner of the room. Nudy had disappeared with a crack once he had explained to Ron how you entered the Room of Requirement. He and Harry had walked up and down the corridor in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy three times, both rather sceptical about this mysterious room. But then, to their relief, a door had suddenly unfolded before their eyes, and within was just as Nudy had promised.

Ron looked at his watch, "I gotta get back to the dormitory," he said, "my classes start today. You'll just stay here?"

Harry's heart sunk a little, and he felt a little twist of jealousy. Ron would be going to learn magic, with other young wizards, while Harry, despite everything, was still stuck in a little room by himself. But he couldn't blame Ron for that, "yeah, I'll just be in here," he said, glancing around, "I wish I had something to read, at least."

Ron pointed at a bookshelf that had sprung up across the room, "and Hogwarts doth supply," he grinned, and Harry couldn't help smiling as he went to inspect the books, which were, of course, perfect for him.

"I'll come visit you at lunch," said Ron, opening the door, "I don't know if the room will supply food, so I'll bring you something to eat and drink. I guess if you want anything else, I can try and get that, too."

"Thanks," said Harry, and he really meant it, "I really appreciate all this."

Ron shrugged, "it's no problem. I'm glad to help. And also," he went a little pink, "I really hope you do get to come to Hogwarts," he cleared his throat in embarrassment, "See you later!" And with that, he was gone, and the door snicked shut.

Harry chose a book about magical philosophy and leant back onto the bed. He hoped that they would be able to find Dumbledore soon.

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Ron returned about three hours later, by which time Harry was thoroughly bored and beginning to experiment with the limits of what the Room would provide. He had managed to have it conjure a large phoenix, but was disappointed to find it was only a fake, stuffed model of a phoenix, when there came a knock on the door and a the boy poked his red head around the edge of the door.

"Hey, you hungry?" Ron said, panting as he entered the room. He was holding the lap of his robes like a bag, "whew, that was close. Percy tried to follow me to find out where I was going with all this food."

He tipped his robes onto a table which had appeared not far away. Out spilled a number of squashed pastries, apples, and a bottle of pumpkin juice.

"Starving, thanks," Harry tucked into the food at once. He had now exhausted his own supply of food and his stomach was already rumbling in protest, "but you got away?"

"Percy's easy to escape, he's just difficult to lie to," said Ron, picking up one of the apples and taking a bite, "so it's not that hard to give him the slip. You just yell, 'look at that, Perce!' and then run like the dickens," he grinned through a mouthful of apple.

They ate their way through the lunch Ron had brought, and then Ron began to question him about his life. The red-haired boy was obviously fascinated by Harry's fugitive status and his godfather's paranoid attitude.

"But why?" he asked, "I mean, I'd understand if he was a criminal and the Ministry was after him, but why is it so important no one finds out about you?"

Harry, who had not told Ron that he was a werewolf, had no answer, "that's what I'm going to ask Dumbledore," he said.

"So where are your parents, anyway?" Ron asked. He had forgotten what Charlie and Tonks had told him about Harry the year before, "maybe they're the ones your godfather are hiding from. Do you think he stole you from them?"

Harry put the pastry he was chewing back on the table, "no," he said softly, "my parents are dead. You-know-who killed them when I was four years old."

Ron was silent for a minute, "oh," he said finally, "I'm sorry, mate, I really am."

"It's okay," said Harry, "I mean, Sirius has always been the best Mum and Dad I could have anyway. When I got old enough to really understand what had happened, I found it didn't matter that much any more."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, I guess…I don't know what kind of life I would have had if my parents hadn't died. But I know I wouldn't trade my life with Sirius for anything, especially not something I know nothing about. Does that make sense?"

"I dunno," Ron made a face, "I don't know what I'd do if Professor McGonagall came up to me one day and told me Mum and Dad were dead, like she had to do for Hannah Abbot last year."

"It wasn't like that," said Harry sadly. He did not know why he was confiding these memories with Ron. But it just felt right, "he killed them in front of me. Dad first, and then Mum, standing in front of me."

Ron put his hand to his mouth. There was no pity on his face, or revulsion, just sadness, and a wordless longing to help in some way. After a moment had lowered his hand, but he still didn't say anything.

"Anyway," said Harry, "that's all old news now. Have you seen Charlie recently? I wish I could talk to him and Tonks again, but I haven't seen them for ages."

"Yeah," Ron sounded as if he was pulling himself out of a deep sleep, "yeah, he's still working in that bar in Diagon Alley, but they've finally given him a permit to go to Romania. He's going to go work with dragons over there."

"That's great," said Harry, knowing how difficult getting such a permit was.

"Yeah, he's real pleased, only he's kind of sad, because Tonks isn't coming with him," said Ron, "I mean, she's not his girlfriend," Ron laughed, "Charlie doesn't swing that way. But he asked her if she wanted to come with him anyway, because they've been such good friends for so long. Bill and Iolanthe told the ministry they were married, so that Iolanthe could go to France with Bill. Charlie asked Tonks if she wanted to do the same thing, lie and pretend they were married, and then she could live in Romania with him, and she said no, she wanted to stay in England and finish her auror training," Ron shook his head, "mad, if you ask me. But she always has been."

"Oh, well, I suppose it's her choice," said Harry, "I think maybe I'd like to be an auror, too. Sirius was one, after all."

Ron's eyes boggled, "be an auror?" he gasped, "well, yeah, we all dream about being heroic and fighting dark wizards and so on – but, Harry, you'd have to be a nutter like Tonks to actually do it! I mean, come on, have you seen the mortality rates? Even if you're not dead in five years, you'll still end up looking like a cheese grater," he shook his head, "not for me," he began, and then he looked over Harry's shoulder, "hey, what was that?" he was staring at the door, his brow furrowed.

Harry glanced around, "what?"

"I think I heard something," Ron got up slowly and pulled out his wand. Harry stood up too, though he left his wand in his robes. Ron went to the door, put his finger to his lips and his hand on the doorknob, and then threw the door open, jabbing his wand out, with a loud cry of, "HA!"

Someone quite a bit shorter than Ron fell half into the room, and only managed to catch themselves as Ron's wand nearly jabbed them up the nose. It was girl with a lot of bushy brown hair, rather large front teeth, and a scandalised look on her face.

"YOU!" bellowed Ron, his face flushing a furious scarlet, "what are you doing eavesdropping, you rat?"

The girl drew herself up, and her face was thunderous. Harry looked from her to Ron, and the equal hate displayed on each face made him wonder what facts he was missing here, "I was not eavesdropping!" the girl replied, "now, get that wand out of my face!"

"Oh, I suppose you just tripped up on your way past, and pressed your ear to the door accidentally?" Ron snarled, not lowering his wand, "tell me what you heard before I jinx you all the way to China!"

"I didn't hear anything!" the girl stomped her foot, "I told you, I was not eavesdropping! You're the one who's doing something shifty – running away from a Prefect. I was just waiting for you to come out so I could tell you Percy is waiting for you at the bottom of the south stairs, and he's going to give you a detention if he catches you."

"A likely story!" crowed Ron.

"It's true!" the girl glowered at him, "I was waiting to warn you, you horrible beast! And now I wish I hadn't bothered, if this is how you thank me. Next time, you can just go face Percy on your own!"

Ron lowered his wand, but he still looked furious, "go on," he growled, "tell me what you heard."

"Nothing!" the girl's hands twitched as if she was longing to lock them around Ron's throat, "I told you!"

"Wait," said Harry, and both of them turned to him as if they had forgotten he was there. The girl stared at him. Harry thought very hard for what he wanted and, as before, the Room provided at once. Something that looked like a large spinning top appeared on the table where they had been eating, and Harry snatched it up and, striding over, thrust it under the girl's nose, "say that again," he said.

"I didn't hear anything you didn't want me to," recited the girl, looking at the strange object curiously. The spinning top lay calm and pensive in Harry's palm.

"She's telling the truth," said Harry to Ron, "it's a sneakoscope – if she was lying to us, it would start spinning and wailing. We've got tons of them at home, and Sirius always puts one of them on the table when he thinks I'm lying to him."

Ron gritted his teeth, "she's still a little sneak," he hissed, "Harry, there's no one else in the castle who'll go running to a teacher faster than this no-good no-it-all."

But the girl was staring at Harry with a bemused look on her face, "what are you doing in here?" she asked, looking from him to Ron, "what's going on? You're hiding, aren't you?" she said to Harry, then she turned back to Ron, "are you smuggling people into the castle? I should tell Professor McGonagall – he could be a Death Eater or something!" she jabbed a finger at Harry.

"You see?" groaned Ron, rubbing his forehead, "you see? She's a spy and sneak and an untrustworthy git!"

"Please," said Harry to the girl, "please don't tell anyone. I'm not a Death Eater, I'm not a danger to anyone, I'm just hiding because there are people who don't want me to go to Hogwarts and I'm trying to find out the truth about my life and…please," he finished.

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, studying him, and then her expression softened, "you mean, you trust me to keep your secret?"

"I'm begging you not to tell anyone," Harry pleaded, "if you give me your word, of course I'll trust it."

The girl blinked, "and, if I promise not to tell anyone, you won't let him," she jerked her thumb at Ron, "jinx me and lock me in the disappearing cabinet?"

"Of course not," said Harry, looking at Ron in alarm. The expression on Ron's face suggested that Ron had been planning to do just that.

"Alright," said the girl, "then I'll give you my word. On one condition."

"Harry, no!" cried Ron, "she'll betray you, I tell you, she's a nasty little teacher's pet!"

But Harry did not think the girl looked nasty at all, "what's the condition?" he asked.

"That you let me visit you and help you hide," said the girl, and Ron moaned loudly in protest, "I want to help!" she shot a glare at the red-haired boy, "and I can bring you anything you need. Unlike this git," she glanced at Ron again, "I'm in on all the teachers' confidence."

Harry considered for a moment. He had only been in Hogwarts for a day and already his cover was being blown. But what other choice did he have? He didn't want Ron to hex anyone on his behalf, "okay," he said, "it's a deal. Now, swear."

The girl straightened her shoulders, "I, Hermione Granger, do solemnly swear to keep this secret and not betray…er, what was your name?"

"Harry Potter."

"Not to betray Harry Potter to anyone," she stuck out her hand, "shake."

He shook it, and began to smile. Ron made a distressed noise as if Harry was signing his own death wish, "Harry, you don't know what you're doing!" he wailed.

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Hermione folded her arms, "I'm part of the conspiracy now, aren't I? So I'm an accomplice to anything you do," she began to grin, "now, tell me everything. Why are you hiding in a secret room with a boy who can't even tell a floating spell from a hovering charm?"

Ron balled his fist in a threatening man, "you better watch your mouth, or I'll forget that my mother always told me not to hit a girl."

Harry leaned past her and shut the door. Hermione watched it close with a little gulp, but her face remained fierce, and when he motioned for her to sit down at the small table (which had provided another chair out of nowhere) she did so.

"I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore," he said, sitting down across from her. Ron refused to sit next to Hermione, but remained standing, tapping his foot and grumbling to himself.

"Why?" Hermione asked at once.

"He's the only one who can answer my questions," Harry replied, "I've been living in hiding with my Godfather since I was four years old, but I really don't know why. He's the one who won't let me go to Hogwarts, or tell me why we live in secret."

"He sounds like a prat," said Hermione.

"Don't interrupt!" Ron snapped, "Harry's talking!"

"Sorry."

"He's not a prat," said Harry, "he's a wonderful man, and he's been teaching me magic to make up for not going to Hogwarts. And I know he has a good reason for everything, but I just wish he would tell me what it was. I ran away yesterday and snuck onto the train to Hogwarts. But if he finds out I'm here, he'll come and make me go home again. And he will find out if any of the teachers find out, because Professor Lupin is friends with him and will tell him. So," he said, "no one must know my name or that I'm at this school until I've spoken to Dumbledore and convinced him to let me stay. That's why Ron is helping me hide."

Hermione nodded, "I can help. I'll try and find out where Dumbledore's office is."

"Thank you," said Harry.

"But then, what are you going to do about your schooling?" Hermione asked, with an enormous among of distress in her voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you can't come to classes or someone will see you!" Hermione's eyes widened as if this was the most terrible idea imaginable, "and your godfather isn't teaching you magic any more! How will you learn anything?"

"Er, I hadn't really thought about that," Harry glanced at Ron, "you think it will take me that long to find Dumbledore?"

"Harry, it could take weeks!" Hermione said anxiously, "he doesn't just wander around the school, humming to himself!" and suddenly she brightened, "I'll teach you. I can teach you everything we learn in class, each day."

"Oh, no!" Ron put his hand on the table with a slap, "you see, Harry? She's trying to worm her way into your confidence!"

Harry leaned around Ron's arm, "could you?" he asked, "I mean, are you good enough to teach me magic?"

Hermione gave him a smug smile, "that," she said, "is a question which hardly needs answering."

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TBC

Dumbledore is old English for Bumblebee. JKR said she gave him the name because she imagined him wandering around Hogwarts, humming to himself. It is the most Dumbledore-ish image of Dumbledore I can think of.