A/N – Here is the next chapter! I do hope you all like!
The Intalicized means that it is a flash back.
Harry Potter and the Story of Secrets
Part 8
Harry woke to darkness; he had never had much trouble with nightmares, but every once in a while his dreams were filled with terror, and a green light. He didn't know what this meant, but, he did know that some how it was important.
Harry sighed and rolled over in his large bed; the blankets warmed to his new position and the small replica of a castle glistened in the darkness. Harry appreciated the fact that the castle was always on when he was tucked into bed and it was always on when he woke some time during the night. Harry sighed, thoughts drifting in the darkness.
It was winter; it had snowed that day and school had been canceled, but it was too cold to go outside and play, and so, Dudley had to stay inside, with almost nothing to do, except homework. Of which his Mother did for him.
Harry had done his by himself. He could count all the way up to fifteen now, and he was only five, he was better at reading out loud than Dudley who stumbled over words all the time) and Harry could even write his whole entire name out. The paper that had at least ten lines of his name written out in his hand hung above his bed by the end of a bent nail.
Evening was well on; and Dudley was negotiating for more time to stay up. Harry watched from the entrance of the living room. He didn't understand why Dudley always did this each night; it seemed to be a very futile effort. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia spoiled their boy in every way, but when it came to bed time, it was un-negotiable and Dudley was sent on to bed at eight every night, while Harry went to bed at seven thirty.
Harry hid in his cupboard while Aunt Petunia carried Dudley up the stairs to his better bed room; Harry could hear all that she said through the heating system.
"Now, dear, you must got to school tomorrow," Aunt Petunia said.
"But I want another some more sweets!" Dudley winged.
"I'll tell you what, pookums, go to bed now, and I'll let you stay up fifteen minutes late tomorrow night, with all the sweets you want," Aunt Petunia seemed to have said that last as an after thought.
Harry laid on his cot; the thin blanket not doing anything against the cold. He wished he had someone to tuck him into bed. He wondered why he was never tucked into bed. He didn't understand why Dudley got all the better treatment while he got none at all. Maybe he had done something as a baby to make Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hate him. Maybe he cried to much, or made too much of a mess. Harry didn't know what he did, but he wished that he didn't do it!
The next day; Harry broke the first rule of the house – Never ask Questions – he was locked in his cupboard for the weekend.
Harry stared at the dark canopy above him; he had asked some questions while he had been in this new home; he hadn't been yelled at either, or hit., or put into a closet of some sort, or…anything. Sirius took the questions in stride and looked happy to see him every morning, and spent all day with him.
They would color, they would read, they would go and play out in the front yard, and sometimes they would get some company! So far, Grandpa Albus had come for a little on Friday, he had brought Harry some sweets, and they all had a grand time!
But, Harry still felt weird about the whole situation; he felt weird about addressing the two men that lived in the house. He felt weird about being in a real bed instead of a cupboard (not that he was actually going to climb into the closet), but he liked the bed.
Harry sighed and rolled over again; he didn't think that he would go to sleep any time soon that night. He sat up in bed and the lam on his bed side table flared to life. It was set to go on and off depending on if the rooms occupant was awake or not. Harry liked how the lamp did that; and he did have to make any noise either to get the light.
Harry hopped out of the high bed and onto the step stool. He took his robe off of the hook located between the bed and the table and put it on. It was sky blue with a huge sun on the back. Then he slipped on his slippers.
Harry's room was huge, it had a four poster bed done up in red and gold; Quidditch posters, and lot's of moving portraits of his Mum and Dad. Sirius had told him who the occupants were. These portraits were silent most of the time, but a teen James Potter liked to talk to Harry whenever he could.
"Hey, Mate! What are you doing up at this time of night?" the Portrait James asked. He looked exactly like Harry with thin wire glasses and messy black hair.
"I had a bad dream," Harry replied.
"Oh? Sorry about that, you know, Moony or Padfoot could help with that. They'd let you sleep with them for the rest of the night. My Mum and Dad always used to do that with me!"
"Really?"
James smiled mysteriously, "Why don't you go see, Padfoot is just the door after yours, across from the bath room,"
Harry looked at James, but then decided that there was nothing for it; he padded across his room and opened the oaken door. The light went off as Harry exited the room and Portrait James smiled sadly.
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Harry quietly opened Sirius' door. The man was snoring quietly and was buried under warm blankets. Harry bit his lip softly; he had never done this before. He remembered once when he had gone to Aunt Petunia after a night mare, but she wasn't too happy at being woken in the middle of the night. He had gotten into major trouble for that and hadn't done it again.
But the portrait was right, he wouldn't know if he didn't try; and he seemed to also know what he was talking about. Harry silently walked across the room and stood on his tip toes at the edge of the bed. He could see the long hair of his Godfather; suddenly, an eye opened, then closed lazily.
"Pronglet, what's that matter?" Sirius asked.
"I—had a bad dream," Harry explained. Sirius pulled back the covers.
"Come and be with me for a while then," Sirius said. Harry, with the help of the older man, climbed into the bed and the warm blankets settled about them.
In a few minutes, Sirius was asleep and Harry followed him. The rest of the night passed with no green light to disrupt Harry's dreams.
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Remus turned from the stove, he was cooking breakfast like he always did in the morning, he smiled as Harry bound into the room. Harry took a look around and smiled at Remus before sitting at the table. It was one thing that Remus insist upon.
The other day, Remus and Dumbledore had talked for a long amount of time about Harry and some strange habits that the boy had. Dumbledore said that Harry was still getting used to his new home and that some rules had to be set. Washing up before every meal was one, but not followed all the time, another, that was strictly a rule, was that Harry was not to help with any meal preparation unless invited.
Sirius and Remus had started Harry on a short chore list; he was to have his room picked up in the mornings, though the bed was hard to do so Sirius usually helped with that. Harry was naturally organized so this one chore wasn't too hard for him.
"What's for breakfast, Uncle Moony?" Harry asked. Remus stopped stirring the eggs and looked back at Harry. Then he smiled.
"Eggs, toast, bacon, and pumpkin juice," Remus replied.
"Sounds good!" Harry said, and then the kitchen fell silent.
"Where is Padfoot?"
"He said he needed a shower or he'd have flies," Harry explained.
"Don't you mean flea's?"
"That's what I said! Flies!"
"All right, all right, have you had pumpkin juice yet?"
"Nope, don't even know what it is!"
Remus smiled; he put the eggs on the back burner and went to the fridge. He poured the juice into a cup and gave it to Harry. Harry looked at the thick drink, he smelled it and then he brought it to his lips. It was spicy, like cinnamon, and it smelled like Pumpkin pie.
"I see you introduced Pronglet to Pumpkin juice," Sirius said as he walked into the kitchen. He smiled at Harry, which meant that he was only kidding.
"I like it!" Harry said.
"Good, it had always been my favorite too," Sirius said.
Once the food was done and the family was sitting down to eat. Harry decided this was a good time to ask his questions.
"What's a muggle?" Harry asked.
"Er…"
"Nicely done, Padfoot," Remus smirked.
"And what did that man mean by calling you a dog?" Harry pointed at Sirius.
"Harry, don't point; well, it was meant as an insult but I took it as a compliment," Sirius said.
"What's and insult?"
"An insult is something that someone will say to make you feel bad," Remus explained.
"Oh," Harry looked down at his eggs, "Like how Uncle Vernon always said that I was a freak?"
"Well, yes…but, insults are never the truth, they are lies and you should listen to such lies," Sirius said. Harry grinned at Sirius and nodded his head. He understood.
It was quiet in the kitchen now. The clock ticked on the counter, and birds could be heard through the open window. The clacking of cutlery against the china was also heard in the room.
"What's a Muggle?" Harry interrupted the silence.
"Someone who can't do magic," Sirius said off-handedly.
"Am I a Muggle?"
"No, you're a Wizard, like you're parents," Remus explained.
"What's a Wizard?"
"Someone who can do magic," Sirius explained.
"Is magic hard to do?" Harry asked.
"No," Remus said.
"What does that mean?"
"What? 'no'?" Remus quirked an eye brow.
"What do you mean when you said 'no'?" Harry asked.
"Once you learn, than it's easy," Remus explained.
"Oh," Harry said, then he went back to eating.
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Lucius Malfoy sat behind his large desk; it had been just a day after he had encountered Black and Lupin, and Potter. That boy looked like a very, very young James Potter, except for the green eyes. Lily and James would be proud of their boy. But they would undoubtedly teach him that being friends with mud bloods and so forth is a good thing.
Black and Lupin would deffinantly do the same, now that they had custody; however, if the boy some how fell into his hands…he could teach him everything about being a pureblood. The boy was pureblood, he was to Potter-ish not to be.
Lucius stood from his desk and crossed the room a few times. Draco had gone on an outing with his mother. The huge mansion was quiet and it was at times like these that Lucius thought at his deepest level.
The question wasn't about what he would teach the boy, it wasn't about getting back at Potter Senior. No, it was more about family. Narcissa had wanted to have a couple of children, but getting pregnant with Draco had been a feat of itself after the Medi-witch had told them that it was impossible for them to have children the natural way.
And just the fact that the child was Harry Potter was just as good! If he could get custody of the boy, or even kidnap him (but Lucius knew it wouldn't go that far) they could have the family that they wanted. And Black would be hurt far beyond what any of the Unforgivable curses could ever do to him.
Lucius stood before the huge bay windows of his study. Now all he had to do w as come up with a good reason (and the gold) to get him the custody papers and permission that he needed.
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A/N – Okay, maybe I gave a bit much away in this chapter. But I'm happy with it. Now, it may not go this way, or it may, Lucius will at least try something. So, be looking for my next up date! Love ya all!
Ta,
Poppy