IY: Wow, you guys rule! 10 reviews in one day... Amazing...
Kit: Yeah. I mean, you usually get 10 in a month.
IY: Uh-huh. -nod- So, since I'm in SUCH a good mood, I'm gonna update again!
Thanks to: Dezra, death by storm, DrarryLuver, Chelse (Er, I'll try?), Yep.Morgan.It.Is, wonky, Limit (I totally get where you're coming from), storm tigeress, Akkalia, and nubby!
Oh, and I forgot to include the disclaimer last chapter. I bet no one noticed anyway, since it's totally obvious that I don't own anything. I mean, if I was rich like J.K. is right now, I wouldn't waste my time writing fanfiction. Enough said.
Stonewall Secondary: Chapter TWO
"Wait for it… Wait for it…. Now!" Harry whispered, dashing to the front hall and out the door when Petunia stepped into the kitchen.
"Whew!" he said, once he was safely outside and down the block- far enough away to be out of Aunt Petunia's peeping range.
"Okay, it is now…" Harry peered at his watch (a Christmas gift from Hermione, spelled to work in magic-laden areas), "9:35. I should turn the time back to nine once I'm done, just to be safe."
Harry nodded to himself and walked briskly down the sidewalk, anxious to see Ron. He might actually have fun this summer with his best friend around! The thought brought a smile to his face, and it was still present even as he rang Mrs. Figg's doorbell.
When he heard a crash from inside, however, the smile quickly slipped right off. The loud noise was followed by, "What the bloody hell was that?! It sounds like there's a bloody bird loose in here!"
Harry cautiously turned the doorknob, finding it unlocked, and slipped inside. Walking into the living room, he was met with a chaotic scene: Draco, Ron and Blaise were running around the room like headless chickens, looking in corners and behind furniture… Harry thought they were acting like loons.
"Er, is this a bad time? I could come back later if you guys are doing some sort of strange pureblood ritual…" he said slowly, unsure of their response. Who knew what crazy people would do next?
"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, stopping his frantic search. "What are you talking about, mate? We're not doing any ritual!"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really? What are they doing, then?" he asked, pointing to the two Slytherins.
"Oh, that! We're looking for a bird; we think maybe he flew in here by accident."
"Ron…" Harry started, "Is this because of the doorbell?" he asked suspiciously.
"The what, now?" Ron asked, confused.
"The doorbell. You know, the thing that rings when you push it?"
Seeing Ron's blank look, Harry sighed and went back to the door. Opening it and leaning out, he pushed the doorbell again.
"There it is again! Where the bloody hell is that bloody bird?!" Draco exploded, his blond head turning left and right.
Harry snorted. "You have got to be kidding me…"
"What's your problem, Gryffindork?" Draco sneered when he heard Harry's derisive comment.
Harry sighed, turned his green eyes up to the heavens, and prayed for patience.
"There is no bird, Malfoy. What you heard is the sound of the doorbell, a Muggle contraption that lets visitors announce their presence. The sound is heard throughout the whole house so that you don't accidentally miss them."
"Oh…" Ron said, echoed by Blaise.
"Well, whatever. It's your fault we didn't know that, Boy Blunder. Can't you tell the time?" Draco asked, pointing towards a clock. "It's almost 10; you said you'd be here to start our lessons at 9."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I said around 9, Malfoy. I had to sneak away from my relatives' house, and I couldn't leave earlier because my uncle decided he wanted to be late to the office."
"What office?" Blaise asked curiously.
"The office where he works, maybe?" Harry said sarcastically, making it seem obvious; it would have been, had they been Muggles.
"Uncle Vernon is the supervisor at a drill company called Grunnings," he added, hoping that would clear up their confusion.
"Hey, Harry…"
"Yeah?"
"What's a drill?" Ron asked.
Harry groaned.
Three hours later, the three purebloods had an elementary knowledge of:
Electricity ("Where does it come from?" "I don't know; it's just there as long as you pay for it."),
Televisions ("How do all those people fit inside there?" "They're not really there; it's just a recording being broadcast around the world." "…What?" "Never mind."),
Telephones ("How does the sound get carried from here to there?" "Through these wires, see?" "Yeah, but how does the noise get carried through it?" "…I have no idea."),
Radios ("Wow! I can hear people! Hello in there!" "Er, they're not really in there, so they can't hear you…" "Really?" "Yeah…"),
Microwaves ("Hey, look! It's spinning!" "Yeah, it does that so things get heated evenly." "Um, is it supposed to smoke like that?" "What!"),
Refrigerators ("Wow, it's so cold in here…" "Yeah, that's what they're made for." "Hey, there's caviar in here!" "No! Don't eat that! It's cat food!"),
Stoves ("It's burning!" "Don't worry; it's supposed to do that." "Really? Strange…" "Well, we use it to cook our meals." "You make your own food?!"),
Washing machines ("Watch out! It's moving!" "Ah. Yeah… It's washing the clothes…" "Huh."),
Dryers ("Wow… Look at all the colors…" "Well, now we know how to keep you entertained…"),
And, finally, the computers that were set up in each of their rooms ("Why is it blinking like that?" "That just shows that it's on, but in standby mode." "…Huh?" "Uh, never mind. Just move this mouse-" "It doesn't look like a mouse…" "It's just called that. It's not a real mouse." "Then why do they call it a mouse?").
Harry plopped exhaustedly on the couch. "Man, my throat hurts…"
Ron groaned, "I'm hungry…"
Blaise moaned, "Where are the house elves when you need them?"
Draco scoffed, "At home, where they're of no use to anyone."
Harry looked around at the others' sprawled forms. "So, I guess we're all hungry?"
"No, really? Brilliant deduction, Gryffindork," Draco sneered.
"Don't get nasty, Malfoy, or I won't make any food for you!" Harry threatened.
"You are going to make our food?" Blaise asked. "I thought you were pampered beyond belief, being the Boy-Who-Lived and all… How could you possibly know how to cook?"
Harry snorted, "Me? Pampered? You're kidding, right?"
"Oh, come off it, Potter! I bet you've never had to raise a finger in your life!" Draco cried.
"I don't think you should be talking, Mr. I-am-a-rich-spoiled-pureblood!" Harry said, walking into the kitchen with Ron.
"He's got you there, Drake," Blaise said, following behind the green-eyed Gryffindor and the Weasley.
Draco scoffed, but followed reluctantly behind. Even something prepared by a Gryffindor was better than nothing.
"Okay, so…" Harry said, opening the fridge. "It looks like Mrs. Figg stocked up on food before she left; we won't have to go grocery shopping until the end of the week, at least."
"How are we going to buy stuff, Harry? We don't have any Muggle money."
Harry frowned, "Good point, Ron. I guess we'll have to go to Diagon Alley… We can probably get some galleons converted to pounds…"
"But what about…" Ron glanced at the two Slytherins, "What about the Order?"
He frowned, "What about them? I'm sure they're watching our every move; they'll know when we're going and send someone to tail us."
Ron nodded, accepting this. Draco and Blaise, however, looked uneasy.
"What do you mean, Potter? There's someone watching us?" Blaise asked, visually searching the kitchen for unwanted visitors.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Zabini. They're outside the house, and they'll leave once I do. It's me they have under constant surveillance, not you," he finished bitterly.
Draco looked at him appraisingly, "And why do they have you under guard?"
Harry sighed, "Dumbledore thinks that I'll either do something stupid or be attacked by Voldemort any minute."
"He's been under watch for a long time now, " Ron added.
Harry nodded, "Yeah, but that's not important. Food is our top priority right now."
He rooted through the fridge, coming out with a package of fish, two eggs, lettuce and tomatoes. He then went through the cupboards until he came across packages of potatoes and flour.
"Uh, mate?"
"Yeah?" he answered, filling a bowl with the eggs and another with flour.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked, sounding confused.
"Fish and chips with a side of salad. Easy and fast."
"Huh."
Half an hour later, they were all seated around the small kitchen table, eating with gusto.
"You know, this isn't half bad…" Blaise said thoughtfully.
"Gee, thanks," Harry said dryly.
"He's right, mate. This is as good as my mum's!" Ron cried.
They all turned towards the silent blond.
"I've had better." Harry rolled his eyes. "But," everyone turned back to him, "I've also had worse."
Harry gasped dramatically, "Have I just been semi-complimented by Draco Malfoy? No! The world is ending! I'm too young to die!"
The young Malfoy rolled his mercury-colored eyes. "Shut up, Gryffindork."
Harry grinned.
When they had all finished, Harry shooed them out of the kitchen. "Go watch some television or something while I wash these dishes."
Draco and Blaise followed the order quickly, not wanting to chance being asked to help if they stayed.
"Go, Ron! Get out of here; you're only bothering me by staying." Ron pouted, but did as told.
Harry sighed, filling the sink with hot, soapy water. One by one, the dishes were scrubbed clean, disappearing from the dirty pile and appearing in the dish rack.
"You're pretty good at that, Potter. Are you used to that kind of menial labor?"
The green-eyed Gryffindor jumped, "Malfoy! Don't sneak up on me!"
"I wasn't sneaking. It's not my fault that you're so unobservant that you didn't notice me, even though I've been standing here for quite a while," the blond drawled.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Malfoy. What do you want?"
"I'm parched, Potter; I want some water. Where do I get it?"
"You've got quite a way with words, Malfoy," Harry said, smirking. Parched? Who said that, nowadays?
"Stop mocking my superior vocabulary, Potter, and give me some water," Draco demanded.
"Get it yourself, Malfoy."
"I thought we went over this, but I guess your slow mind didn't quite catch it: where do I get it, Potter?"
Harry smirked; he loved seeing Draco so helpless. "Get one of the cups from the cupboards, Malfoy."
The blond sighed and did as told. "Now what, Boy Blunder?"
"Now go to the fridge," Harry said, not continuing until Draco followed his instructions. "Okay, now put the cup in that hole, pushing against that black lever."
Draco gasped when water instantly poured into the glass. "Well, I guess Muggles aren't as stupid as I thought. They've managed to design things that make up for their lack of magic…"
Harry smiled, "Wow, I never thought I'd see the day when a Malfoy didn't completely bash people that weren't born purebloods."
"Whatever, Potter." Draco said, sipping his water. "You didn't answer me earlier."
"Didn't answer what?" Harry asked, turning back to the rapidly diminishing pile of dishes.
"Are you used to menial labor?"
Harry laughed, "I've been doing household chores since… Since as far back as I can remember… I've cooked all the meals for the Dursleys ever since I could reach the top of the stove; I've washed the dishes since Aunt Petunia decided that I could handle her china without breaking it; I've swept and dusted ever since I could walk without tripping over Dudley's old clothes…"
Harry smile turned bitter, "So, yeah, I'm very used to menial labor. Why do you ask, Malfoy?"
Draco was stunned at Harry's revelations. The Boy-Who-Lived, a slave to his own family? Preposterous. Unthinkable. But true…? It certainly seemed that way…
Draco shook his head, slightly out of it. "Oh, no reason, Potter. Uh, I'll just be going now, okay?"
Harry's vivid green eyes followed the blond out of the kitchen. "Malfoy can be so weird sometimes…"
Aaaand... Cut! I hope you all liked chapter two!
Okay, now, you know the drill! Review, please! Who knows, if I get enough, I might update again... (wink, wink)