Author's note: Thank eyeryone who reviewed. I really enjoy reading what everyone has to say. Keep telling me what ya'll like. Hope I added enough Nigel for those of you who like him.

All of ya'll who have any questions about the story please go back and read previous chapters and author's notes. If anyone still has questions pm me and I will try to clear up any confusion.

This chapter got out faster than I expected, but it is because I am in an extremely good mood. Why? It's my senior year and my tennis team just made it to the final four : )! No one expected us to because we lost five out of seven starters last year. Well, enough about me, on to the story...

Chapter Five:

Hylas woke the next morning to rays of sunlight stabbing at his eyes and a foul taste on his tongue. A reminder that he had carelessly neglected his personal hygiene last night before bed.

Frowning– with some difficulty because he was also yawning – he looks around the room he had ignored upon arriving yesterday evening.

He was disgruntled to discover that the apartment, which the goblins had arranged for him, was not to his taste at all. It was whit, bright, and airy. In other words terribly modern. It's a studio apartment that was very sleek looking with black leather sofas and his own bed was low to the ground with a black platform base and white comforter.

Books that he had paid to be delivered from Flourish & Blots were stacked haphazardly upon the dining room table – who was he kidding there was no dining room.

After exploring the entire flat – which didn't take long: studio apartment – he was safely able to conclude that goblins had zero taste and knew nothing about human children. If they had given this apartment to most people his age with no adult figure living with them, it would have been ruined within a week. There was too much white and much too modern for his tastes. But at the moment he could grudgingly appreciate Petunia Dursley for forcing him to do servants' labour. He could keep this monstrosity clean at the least.

With a sharp nod to himself, Hylas began putting the books neatly onto the book shelf that was surrounded by sofas and chairs – he had mentioned to the goblins that he did not like muggle televisions much. After that was done he gathered up some of the slightly less ragged rags he had brought from the Dursley's and headed to the bathroom. He was in very much need of a long hot bath.

Territerriterri

"Cutie pie!" was the first thing Hylas heard when he left his flat that morning and it was followed by an oxygen stopping, vaguely familiar hug.

"Good morning, Nigel," Hylas managed to choke our as the man near choked him.

Nigel's big blue eyes were wide with happiness as he looked over Hylas – obviously taking in Hylas's clothes with a concealed horror ( two conflicting expressions Hylas knew not how the man managed to pull off simultaneously). "Cutie pie, why didn't you tell me we were neighbors!" Nigel asked clearly ignoring the fact that he hadn't known either.

"I didn't know. I just moved here yesterday." Hylas answered slowly.

"Well,"Nigel said, loosening his grip on Hylas slightly, but not entirely letting go. "If you had told me your address I could have walked you home last night."

Hylas attempted to reply that he only vaguely knew his address, he just knew how to get to the flat (portkey); however, Nigel continued on.

"Really, what your parents might think when they hear their new neighbor didn't make sure their adorable son made it home safely. They'll think I'm a horrible person." Nigel bemoaned overdramatically, with tears? swimming in his eyes.

Hylas sighed. "Don't worry," he said, "They're dead. I'm emancipated. Don't worry yourself about it." The goblins had emancipated him yesterday and "Harry Potter's"parents were dead.

Hylas really shouldn't have said that because the admission made the green haired man burst farther into tears and the strangle hug came back full force.

Territerriterri

After Hylas finally managed to calm Nigel down – which really made Hylas feel like the adult in the circumstance – he got his new neighbor and self appointed (so said Nigel) caretaker and friend to help him find a music store.

It was only a block from his apartment building, - so here's hoping he could find it again without Nigel's assistance – and had a rather good selection of instruments. While Nigel flittered off to find an employee to help Hylas, he himself was momentarily torn. Which to see first: violin or piano.

He had taken lessons on both before "The Incident" and though he had not been as proficient as his mother had been, he liked to think he had been fairly good at both instruments. As he briefly thought of his mother – he could not think of either of his parents long without wanting to cry (something he would rather die than do in public) – he remembered a violin number that his mother, Jasmine Potter, herself had composed.

With that haunting melody playing in his head he walked in a daze of nostalgia to the violins. He took one from the prop it was positioned on, checked the bow to make certain it was rosined, ignored the "Do NOT touch the instruments" sign and began to play.

It was a sweet and pure song that had always entranced whomsoever was listening to it and the player. He smiled as he played the familiar song, his fingers, though they had not played a single piece in four long years, had managed to retain the muscle memory for playing.

Half way through the song Hylas was disrupted by a large hand that snatched the violin from his grasp. Dazed and more than a little upset, Hylas looked up to see a man-ish looking woman with stringy blond hair glaring down at him.

"You little urchin," she said rudely, with a distinctly lower class accent. "What part of keep your grubby little hands off the merchandise don't you understand?"Pointing with her meaty hand to the sign Hylas had ignored in his enthusiasm. "Can't you read, you brat."

Hylas really wished he could return the woman's rudeness. But he had not been raised in a barn (though the Dursley's were a near miss). So he replied coldly, yet with the utmost politeness in his upper-crust, "posh" accent that seemed to make the woman angrier. "Ma'am, I came in this establishment to by a violin. I must test it before I purchase it. I am not about to spend hundreds of pounds on something I am not satisfied with."

The woman sneered, and scrutinized his clothing (making him wish he had gone to the magical music shop, even though the idea of a self tuning and playing violin horrified him). "I highly doubt you'd be spending a single pound on anything. Now scram before I call the police on you."

Hylas cocked an eyebrow disdainfully at her. He certainly didn't want to purchase anything from her, but if he left now she would think she had bested him. Something he refused to allow.

Thankfully, before he could do anything, Nigel, along with another man appeared from somewhere in the shop.

Nigel was smiling widely and hugged Hylas' head placing a kiss on the top. "Why'd you stop playing, Cutie pie? That was so good. I thought you came here wanting lessons."

The man Nigel had brought with him chimed in. "You want lessons, kid? What you were playing was bloody – Sorry, Nigel, sorry – er, was almost professional." Nigel had glared at the man when he had cursed because he didn't want Harry to hear such language.

"Thank you," Hylas said, his face a bit red from embarrassment.

"Cutie pie, this is a friend of mine, John Beau. He owns this shop. John this is Harry Potter, but I call him 'Cutie pie' for obvious reasons." Nigel introduced, while playing with Hylas' hair.

"Nice to meet you, kid."

"A pleasure, I'm sure." Hylas responded as they shook hands.

"So why'd you stop playing, Cutie pie, I'm no music expert, but that song didn't sound finished." Nigel asked, nearly having Hylas' hair in a braid down to his waist by this point.

"The lady over there snatched the violin away from me before I could finish." Hylas responded, sounding petulant even to his own ears.

John frowned as he turned to his employee, who had been silently watching the interaction. "Martha, why did you take the instrument from him?"

"Sir!"she exclaimed. "It is store policy not to let children touch the instruments. Especially as expensive a piece as that violin. And look at the girl! She can't possibly afford to purchase it."

"I'm not a girl," Hylas said exasperated. "Nigel just introduced me as 'Harry', didn't he?" he threw in, only to be ignored by boss and employee.

"Martha! That is no way to speak to a customer. And the child obviously knows what he's doing with a violin. Didn't you hear that piece?"

"It was beautiful," she admitted, rather grudgingly. "But there's no way the urchin is a customer. Customers buy things. If the brat had any money he needs to spend it on new clothes."

Nigel popped in before John could reply – Hylas was content to watch as Nigel spoke and brushed Hylas's neck with his newly braided hair. "Oh, he is getting new clothes. He paid half of what his entire clothing order yesterday – six hundred and seventy-two pounds – in cash. And he's my new neighbor, so you'll be able to find him."

Martha looked stunned and disbelieving and John just looked irritated. "Martha, go to the back. Hand the kid the violin and leave this to me." Martha scowled but did as she was told, disappearing into the back of the store.

There was an awkward silence so Hylas shrugged – curse that horrible habit – and began playing where he had been so rudely interrupted. Nigel and John listened silently in appreciation.

Terrterrterri

"Seriously, Nigel said you wanted lessons, but your playing is amazing already. And at your age! Phenomenal." John said shaking his head in disbelief.

"I need lessons because this is the first time I've played in four years. I'm a bit out of practice." Hylas admitted, to his shocked listeners.

"If that was what you call out of practice, I can't wait to hear what you sound like in practice, Cutie pie." Nigel said in awe.

"Even in practice I'm not as good as my mother was." Hylas said mournfully, but truthfully. However in memory, everything was better.

Nigel frowned and John asked, "So your mum was the one who taught you violin? Why can't she – " Nigel stomped painfully on his foot cutting John off.

Hylas was thoughtfully inspecting the gorgeous redwood violin so he missed the interaction, but said, "She also taught me piano."

Hylas looked up and said, "But before lessons, I'll give you two thousand pounds, cash, today for this violin and that black upright by the door."

John smiled, "Deal. And to apologize for Martha's rudeness I'll throw in free lessons from now until whatever school you go to starts back up."

Hylas smiled and they shook on it.

Territerriterri

Weeks passed in the following manner pleasantly: Hylas would wake up and get dressed, met Nigel, and they would get breakfast together before the elder man dropped him off at the music shop with John for his lessons. After his lessons, Nigel would come get him for lunch before dragging Hylas to his shop. There Hylas would read, practice violin, or just chat with Nigel about anything and near everything while the green haired man worked. Hylas had some slip ups where he almost accidently said his real parents names, only to have the magic from the accursed bracelet choke him.

If Nigel ever found his forced silences strange he never commented.

This routine continued long after Nigel had completed his outfits – which were utterly to Hylas' satisfaction – they both loved each other's company.

After Nigel's shop closed for the day the two would often go for ice cream or wander the parks nearby, and occasionally Hylas would be able to talk Nigel into going to a bookstore. On one such trip Hylas found a book on mechanics and discovered a passion second to his love of medicine.

That and, to Nigel's amusement, he became fascinated with motorcycles.

Before it was time to go to Hogwarts he and Nigel had become quite close and Hylas was sad to leave him. Sad and concerned.

Concerned because sometimes, between when Nigel would leave him at his flat at night and when the man would arrive at his door the next day, Nigel would acquire various bruises on his person. They weren't obvious and Hylas could only glimpse them when the tailor would unbutton his collar or roll up his sleeves.

Over all Hylas was concerned about his friend and wasn't quite sure what he should or could do about it. But the man seemed happy enough so Hylas never said anything.

But the concern didn't vanish as September 1st arrived.

Territerriterri

"Cutie pie?"

"Yes, Nigel?" responded Hylas curiously.

"Why on this good green earth are you attending a school with no phones! That means snail-mail, which means it will take forever to hear from you, Cutie pie! Awful, just awful." Nigel wailed distraughtly, raking his hands through his newly blue locks.

Hylas rolled his eyes at the dramatics. He had researched owl post and found that they could deliver to most anywhere in the UK in under three days, sometimes faster. However, Nigel didn't know that.

But Hylas' thoughts trailed and his neutral expression curved into a smirk. He was going to break the Statue of Secrecy today. Nigel was going to see him off, he was determined to make it so.

As the pair approached platforms nine and ten at Kings Cross station. Hylas turned to Nigel, who was frowning at "Harry's" ticket. ( Hylas had been very happy when Nigel had stuck to calling him by his nickname – cutie pie- instead of the name 'Harry').

"Cutie pie," Nigel said, "they've messed up your ticket."

Hylas cocked his eyebrow. "Oh? Have they?" Hylas grabbed Nigel's free hand and continued to the wall separating nine and ten.

"There isn't a platform 9 and 3/4. It doesn't exist." Nigel looked up from where he had been distracted by the crazy ticket. Just in time to see that he was about to walk into a wall. He flinched but never collided with the wall.

Hylas pointed to a sign that read "Platform 9 ¾". "You were saying?"

Nigel's jaw literally dropped. It took a few moments for him to compose himself before latching onto Hylas – sort of like an oversized koala on a rather slender tree.

"This is so …crazy, Cutie pie. I would ask you to explain everything now, but the very gaudy" Hylas snorted most unbecomingly at that "train is about to leave. So, I'm telling you that the first letter I get better explain this."

Hylas nodded in agreement. He had already planned on doing so. It would be nigh impossible for Hylas to write to Nigel about his time at a school of magic without Nigel knowing about magic. That's why he had done this in the first place. Well, that and to see Nigel's reaction, which had been funny.

"Bu-bye, my Cutie pie," Nigel said after he had loaded Hylas' trunk into an empty compartment mid-way on the train. The man kissed him on the forehead and gave him one more hug, and then Hylas was alone in his compartment.

That, unfortunately or not, did not last very long.

"Look, Gred-"

"I see, Forge-"

"I didn't know-"

"Mum and Dad should have said-"

"We have another little sibling!" they said together with a devilish grin on their faces.

Hylas looked amusedly at the red-haired twins that had invaded his compartment. They had drawn on him being red headed also to claim him as their sibling, making Hylas assume all of their family had red hair.

Playing along Hylas responded, "Do my newly discovered siblings have names?"

They're grins, if possible, got even wider. They bowed simultaneously:

"Weasley is our name good chap."

"I'm George and he's Fred-"

"No, no, no. He is Gred and I'm Forge."

"Of course, how careless of me brother dear."

"Does our new brother have an equally awesome name?" they asked.

Hylas frowned. "Harry Potter, however, I believe your names are 'more awsome' than mine."

The twins looked awestruck for a moment and stared at the small red-head they had claimed for his hair color. Most red-heads were either Weasleys or muggle-borns in the wizarding world. They had certainly not expected the Harry Potter.

The twins glanced at each other once they recovered.

"Gred."

"What, Forge?"

"We must bestow our newfound brother a name that is more awesome so that he may be on par with us."

"Of course, splendid idea. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because nature blessed me with the looks and brains in the family. How about Merlin?"

"No, I definitely got the looks. Too arrogant. Elric?"

"That is wrong my dearest twin. Too connected with Elric the Odd. Does he look odd to you?"

"No, I suppose not, Do you have any nicknames already?"

Hyla felt himself ting pink.

"Oh, is that a blush I see?"

"I do believe it is."

"Tell us! Tell us!" they chimed together.

Hylas was positively red by now. Nigel only got away with calling him 'Cutie pie' because he was flamboyant and mothering. These boys were not Nigel.

Relenting, he sighed. "My friend, Nigel, calls me 'Cutie pie', but he's the only one."

The twins grinned and plopped down on either side of him, both throwing an arm over his shoulder. "Not anymore," they rang.

"However," the one Hylas believed to be Fred said, "we shall not be copycats."

"No, we shall not." Agreed George.

"We dub thee Q.T." they said finally.

"Okay," Hyals agreed easily. There was not much he thought worse than 'Harry' anyway.

The twins grinned, they liked this kid. The three spent the rest of the train ride getting to know each other. They got along like gasoline and matches.

Territerriterri

Hylas ignored the staring as he made his way to the stool to be sorted. Honestly, he didn't want the ratty hat on his head – he had finally gotten away from well-worn articles of clothing, he didn't want to revert.

He did, however, smile at the twins who were giving him a thumbs up from the Gryffindor table as he sat on the stool. Then the hat covered his eyes.

Well, well, well, you've had an interesting life for one so young, dimension traveler.

Not by choice I assure you, Hylas replied.

You obviously hold no love for our Headmaster, Hylas Jibril Potter.

Hylas brighten at the sound of his true name then fell. You aren't allowed to tell anyone about this are you?

Sorry, I am unable to.

Fine, sort me then.

Alright, you know how to look out for your best interests – Slytherin quality there. Hufflepuf- you are loyal to those who acquire it from you. You have courage, but aren't foolhardy – not Gryffindor, because you think before rushing in. Your mind – goodness gracious, you love to learn don't you?

"Ravenclaw" the hat screamed out.

The Weasley twins clapped the loudest and they didn't even sit at the red-head's new house's table.