I was planning on making updates a week apart, but I'm too excited! ^-^


~Ten years later~

Skyla was making lunch over a makeshift oven under the floor of a house in the countryside. Humming to herself, she seemed to not notice the small, skinny boy sneaking up behind her.

Harry Potter stepped silently on his tiptoes, holding his breath, reaching a hand to startle his mother. He was just about to when she said, "Hello, Harry."

The disappointed boy groaned, drawing back. He was so close. For some reason, his mother always seemed to know when he was around. Harry had begun to wonder if she had eyes on the back of her head.

Skyla chucked and turned to face him. "Ready for lunch?" she asked pleasantly.

"Always!" the boy answered, taking his seat at the table. The table was a pickle jar lid and a spool and the seats were matchboxes and little wood blocks with cloth over them to make them more comfortable.

Skyla smiled at her adopted son. She still hadn't told him where he came from. It would only upset him now. Well, now that she thought about it, it would upset him anytime. But, she decided it'd be best to tell him when he was older. Not while he was still a child.

She truly loved him with all her heart. He was a very well-behaved child, he loved to smile, and he really loved borrowing. Skyla was teaching him how, as well as the rules about it and what not to do.

Harry was growing into a very handsome young boy in Skyla's opinion. The boy was rather skinny but was faster and stronger than he looked. He had bad vision, but lucky for him Skyla was rather crafty and made him some rectangular spectacles that corrected his sight almost perfectly. He rather enjoyed them. That afternoon, he was wearing a shirt so green that it matched his eyes and pants made from the fabric of an old blue sock. His feet were clad in leather shoes close to moccasins. (Some borrowers that Skyla used to know were very good at making shoes but she liked to keep them simple.) His black hair was cut short by his mother, and neither of them even attempted to tame it, it was so wild. He had grown and was a quarter-inch shy of four inches.

"Today's menu is pea soup with cornbread," announced Skyla, carrying over a thimble filled with the thick liquid. Using a large dollhouse spoon, she ladled a serving of soup into the grateful boy's bowl, then into her own. Then she set out a platter of cornbread, already cut into bite-sized pieces. She sat down and they both ate.

"Mum?" said Harry through a mouthful of cornbread.

"Yes?" As he started to answer, she added, "Swallow first." Harry obeyed.

"You told me yesterday that all borrowers have a 'feeling' when a human bean's around, right?" He looked nervous to ask.

Skyla didn't correct him when he called humans 'beans'. That's what borrowers called humans. So instead, she just answered his question with a question.

"What about it, sweetie?" she said, taking another spoonful of soup.

"Well…how come I don't have one?"

Skyla offered an encouraging smile. "You're only ten, son. I didn't get mine until I was fifteen. It just depends on the borrower. It'll come, trust me." She knew this wasn't true and that humans had no such feeling, but it was worth it to see Harry's smile return. The boy picked up his bowl, spoon forgotten, and finished off his soup straight from the bowl.

"I'm done!" he exclaimed energetically, setting his bowl down. "Can we go borrowing now? Can we?"

Skyla rubbed her chin thoughtfully, taking too long to decide on purpose. Only when the boy was on the brink of exploding did she say, "Okay. Give me your dishes and go wash up."

The boy gave an excited whoop, kissed his mother on the cheek, and ran into the washroom.

Ten minutes later, the boy was following his mother through the dark and long passageways that gave them access to every room in the house. This time, he had bags slung over his shoulder like his mother and had a log hat pin at his side in case of rats (there were several strong gates to keep those out of their home) His mother had one as well.

There were no other borrowers in the entire house, a fact that didn't bother either of them. It meant that the entire house was theirs.

The human beans in this particular house were an elderly couple who were almost never in the house. They lived a very scheduled life: In the morning, they would have breakfast in the dining room, take their medications, and then the old man would whittle and the woman would knit. This would last a few hours, and then they would take a slow walk around the many acres of land that they owned, and then spend lunch and the rest of their day at a house down the lane playing bridge with the couple that lived there and talking a lot. They had just left for their stroll.

They also didn't keep the place very tidy, do it was easier to borrow things. Even better, they weren't a particularly nosy couple.

Harry loved borrowing more than anything in the world. He always felt so accomplished when he brought home so many useful things. And his fear of humans sort of gave him a rush. He'd lost count of the times when he and his mother were nearly seen.

They reached a mouse-hole in the dry wall and ducked through, appearing in the humans' sitting room. Harry never ceased to be amazed at the size of everything. It was magnificent and terrifying at the same time.

"Now, remember, stay close to me and do what I tell you," said Harry's mother, whispering even though they were alone. "If you find anything useful, what do you do?"

"Check with you first to make sure it's borrowable." Harry recited happily and without hesitation.

"Good," Skyla said with a smile. "And remember the borrower way. A borrower is quiet, cautious, inconspicuous, alert…" She trailed off so that her son could fill in the blanks.

"Never seen and never heard," said Harry.

His mother smiled. "You're a good boy." She slipped her hand into his. "Come along!" and the two of them were off.

They made their way to the kitchen, picking up bits of loose string and sewing thread, abandoned sewing needles, and other little things that could possibly be of use. Harry was pleased with a stray button that he had found and was considering hanging it on his wall when they got home when his mother laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. He looked up and realized they were right at the foot of the kitchen table.

"Let's split up," said his mother. "I'll go up on the table for some sugar and tea bags; you see what you can find down here. Okay?"

"Sure thing, mum," Harry smiled adventurously. This would be the first time he would borrow on his own.

Skyla smiled. "Be careful," she advised before unclipping her hook and line, throwing it over the edge of the table and beginning her ascent.

Harry walked along the hardwood floor, watching for anything that might be of use. He found a rather long bit of string, yet another button (Harry collected buttons, but the ones he collected had interesting patterns or textures or designs on them; he had collected seven so far and kept them in a closet), a paper clip or two and the stub of a pencil. He bagged all of these things to show to his mum later.

"Harry!" Skyla whispered hoarsely from the tabletop. Harry's neck craned to see her gesturing to come up and he quickly raced forward to climb the rope and join his mother.

"Look at this." His mother was standing over a newspaper. An advert was circled in red pen which Harry read once he was close enough.

"What does it mean?" he asked.

"The humans are renting out the spare bedroom upstairs." Skyla's voice was low and very grim.

"But…That's good, isn't it? I mean—more humans mean more borrowings, right?"

"No," she replied darkly. "These humans are very scheduled. We know when they're out, when they're home, when they're vacuuming." Both of them got a shudder. Neither of them liked the vacuum at all. "But a new human, a stranger with an entirely different schedule…That's a big adjustment to make."

Harry's eyes widened in realization, and then they grew even wider when the front door two rooms down opened.

"But I don't understand, young man, I only advertised it this morning—"

Before the old woman finished talking, Harry felt the weight of two tea bags in his arms.

"Go home," whispered his mother.

Suddenly frightened, Harry looked at her pleadingly. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine. Just go home." She stared into his eyes and gripped his shoulders. "I'll be right there, sweetie." She gave him a quick hug, and then he dashed for the twine rope. Descending as fast as he could, he hurried to an electric outlet that came loose at the slightest tug in either direction. Harry looked back only once to see his mother swing on her string behind the flour jar, and then he replaced the outlet and darted home.

Skyla gathered her rope, wound it into a circle, and clipped it to her hip just as the old human and the new one entered. She peeked around the jar that hid her.

The man was oddly dressed. He wore a tweed coat, suspenders, pants that were a bit short for him, and a bow-tie.

"Wherever did you get all this money for rent?" asked the old woman, setting down a paper bag on the table.

"Stroke of luck. I won the lottery." The young man's eyes were scanning the kitchen, and when his eyes were creeping Skyla's direction, she gasped quietly and quickly hid back behind the flour jar, hoping he hadn't seen her.

"Ah. Now, what was your name again, dear?"

"The Doctor."

"Doctor...?"

"Just the Doctor.

'Odd name for a human,' thought Skyla. She peeked back. The Doctor was sitting at the table, sideways to Skyla and across from the old lady.

"Well then, er, Doctor, shall I make tea?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." He was still looking around but he seemed to be more interested in a sort of device in his hand under the table. The device was rather odd-looking, much like the man himself.

"Well, that's strange…" said the old woman, peering into the tin that contained tea bags. "There's only one left. I could swear I had more."

Skyla bit her lip. She was foolish to take more than one tea bag.

"Small things going missing," muttered the man. His eyes looked straight at Skyla. This surprised her so much, she froze where she was. "I see."

Thankfully, the old woman didn't notice and the Doctor didn't blow Skyla's cover. He stood and said, "That can wait. May I see my room?"

Startled by this sudden question, the old lady recovered and said, "Yes, dear, right this way." She exited first, and the Doctor pocketed the thing he had been holding. Looking back at Skyla, he winked and left.

Skyla was very shocked. He had seen her. Why hadn't he done her in? Wasn't that what humans did?

Her thoughts raced back to Harry, and she swiftly dropped to the floor and hurried home.

Harry was sitting silently in his bedroom, fiddling with his fingers nervously. He tried distracting himself by counting the number of red squares on his walls. They were papered with white and black checker-boarded patterned paper. The bed on which he sat was made by his mother: frame, mattress, pillows and comforter. He also had a desk in the corner near his closet, and an entire wall with just decorations like postage stamps and the most unique buttons. There was also a window, behind which was a picture of a beautiful outside view.

He gasped when he heard the front door open. He jumped up and ran out of his room. "Mother!" he cried, meeting her in the foyer and embraced her when he saw that she was unharmed. She hugged him back tightly.

"What happened? Did you see the new bean?" the boy asked.

Skyla hesitated. She didn't want to frighten him by telling him she had been seen by the bean. After all, she was the one who had always told him to never ever ever be seen.

"It doesn't matter. But we're going to have to lay low for a while, especially you. I don't know what I'd do if that bean got you."

"But what about the borrowings?" Harry asked desperately.

"We have enough food to last us a few weeks. That's plenty of time to get acclimated to his behavior, work around him. Until then, we can't go borrowing. I'll just spy on him every now and then, from a distance." Skyla realized she was rambling and abruptly stopped talking. She looked at Harry and, noticing his disappointed expression and hanging head, lifted his chin to look up into her face and brushed back his bangs.

"Look, Harry," she said quietly. "You're my son. I love you. I couldn't bear it if that human hurt you." She embraced him once again. Harry hugged her back.

"I know," he whispered. "I love you, too."

Harry couldn't get to sleep that night. He knew his mother had warned him about the new bean. But now he was more curious than ever. He didn't even know what the human looked like. So, very late that night, he got up, covered his thin pajamas with a dressing gown for warmth, and then snuck out to the long passage that led to the inside of the walls.

It wasn't that he was intentionally disobeying his mother. His curiosity was just overwhelming. He had to know.

He was lucky that living nine years in this house meant that he nearly had these passages memorized. He was a bit frightened to be alone in the dark, but he had his pin in case of danger. His heart really began racing when he knew he was near the spare bedroom.

All of a sudden, there was a strange noise coming from the wall to Harry's left. It was a sort of mechanical buzzing or whirring; it was difficult to tell. It went away almost right away, so Harry ignored it.

He finally reached a hole that led to one of the rafters near the ceiling. He looked down, realizing that the room was empty. He groaned quietly to himself and was about to turn back when the door opened. Harry crouched down so he wouldn't be seen. The man was definitely funny-looking, and he held something in his hand. No, he was hitting it against his palm, muttering to it. Harry followed the man as far as the rafter would allow, and he leaned far forward to get a better look.

He leaned too far forward, and his hand slipped. He fell several feet onto the bedside table, and by a miracle he survived, landing on his stomach. All of the air was expelled from his lungs and he coughed trying to swallow air painfully.

He gasped and sat up quickly when the bedside lamp clicked on following that same strange buzzing. The next thing Harry knew, he was being lifted by the back of his dressing gown, and before he knew it he was right in front of the strange man's face.

Frightened beyond belief, Harry threw his arms over his head, expecting to be crushed.

"Oh, look at you," said the man gleefully. He sounded like he was referring to an adorable animal. Harry might've been upset about that if he wasn't too afraid to care. He peeked through a gap in his arm at the man. The man raised another hand, possibly to touch the boy. Panicking, Harry took up his hat pin and jabbed into the man's thumb. The thumb that held the back of Harry's dressing gown.

The bean yelped in pain and accidentally dropped the boy, sending him tumbling toward the floor, which was an incredible height for a four-inch-tall boy.

Harry didn't even have time to scream. He just squeezed his eyes shut and prepared himself for death.