Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, never have, never will, blah blah blah...
At The White Hart
The frost covered leaves crunched beneath Harry and Dumbledore as they made their way down privet drive. Harry didn't dare break the silence that enveloped them. Part of him was too shocked to even realise that he had actually walked out of the Dursley's home with not a single possession, or thought as to what he was supposed to do next. The other half was very weary that he was with a man who, despite their newfound acquaintance, was still a complete stranger to him. Dumbledore, however, didn't appear to find the situation awkward at all.
"Would you like a sherbet lemon Harry" he asked, producing a packet of sticky sweets.
"Err...yes please" said Harry, thrown off by this seemingly random offer.
"Harry, I know things moved a bit fast for you back there, and you're probably very confused right now but I ask that you bear with me for the time being. There is much to be sorted out in terms of your future and not much in the way of explanation.
Harry remained silent, thinking hard.
"Mr Dumbledore, no offence, but why are you so concerned about my life. I mean I barely even know you" said Harry quietly. Looking up, he noticed a look of sadness in the elder man's eyes.
"Things have happened Harry, things in your life which I feel partly responsible for. You will understand soon enough why you are of a great importance, not just to me, but to many others too".
"What do you mean-" Harry began, but was cut off by Dumbledore.
"Harry, I know you have a lot of questions, and believe me you will get the answers. But now is neither the time nor the place for that discussion" said Dumbledore firmly. He came to a halt and looked up, Harry followed his gaze. Standing before them, was a small, cosy looking inn. The building was white with a thatched roof and the shining black letters above the door read "The White Hart".
"This should suffice for tonight" said Dumbledore holding the door open for Harry, who gingerly made his way inside. The room was dark and half-empty and a strong mixture of damp earth and tobacco filled Harry's nostrils. The barmaid appeared from a back room as they entered.
"Hello there my dears, how can I help you?"
"I would like a room for the night please" requested Dumbledore.
"Right this way" replied the barmaid, leading them up a bunch of narrow, rickety stairs. They followed her along the landing until they reached the door at the very end. She turned to them,
"Dinner's served downstairs from 7:30 onwards and breakfast tomorrow will begin at 8:00. Any other problems just ask for Dianne" she said, unnecessarily pointing to herself.
Dumbledore thanked her and paid for their room. The two of them entered what turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant bedroom. There were two large beds covered in chintz style quilts, a squashy armchair beside what looked like their very own fireplace, and the large window displayed a beautiful view of the Surrey countryside.
Dumbledore smiled at Harry, who was still standing by the doorway, unsure of what to do with himself.
"Do make yourself comfortable Harry, I daresay you've had a long day" he said kindly.
Though it was only late afternoon, Harry felt as though he were about to drop dead from fatigue. He took off his shoes, crawled under the warm blankets and within minutes was deeply asleep.
Harry awoke suddenly, a shill shrieking noise emanating from his left. Groggily, he groped for his glasses, wondering what was making such an awful racket. He turned, and saw to his surprise that the shrieking was in fact coming from a small barn owl perched on his bedside table. Before he could make any sense of this odd image, Dumbledore appeared from the bathroom looking thoroughly irritated.
"Will you be quiet!" he said, pulling out a long wooden stick and brandishing it in the owl's direction, which fell silent immediately.
He turned to go back into the bathroom when he froze, noticing Harry's presence for the first time.
"Ah...well Harry it seems like I have a lot of explaining to do".