Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything to do with the Harry Potter franchise. J.K. Rowling has that great privilege. I am simply playing with her characters for a bit – I am not making money and do not wish to do so from this work. This is purely for shits and giggles and I will let the characters go when I'm done. Of course, anything not recognisable from the Potter-verse, was probably made up by myself, or the idea referenced from another Potter-verse fanficcer.
Title: Divide - Chapter 02
Pairing: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy
Rating: 15 for language, violence and sexual situations
Genre: Pre-Slash, Drama, Adventure, Romance
Summary: Harry Potter hates summer. This summer, however, the Dursley's take him with them on a family vacation. In the strange new city, Harry finds more trouble than he expected, in the form of Death Eaters and Draco Malfoy.
Divide.
Chapter 02
Harry lay on the amazingly comfortable bed, staring at the drapes above him. Strangely, the room reminded him very strongly of Hogwarts, with the canopied, four-poster bed and ornate decorative furnishing. The ceiling was high, the carpet luxurious and the colour pallet in creams and pastel greens, yellows and occasionally blues. It was all rather gorgeous for a prison cell.
Harry understood that that was precisely what this room was now to be. A prison cell. However gorgeous and comfortable it was, Harry knew he was going to spend the next two weeks pretty much permanently locked in it – unless he managed to get the key off Vernon.
What made the situation worse, was the thought that Dudley could access the room through their shared bathroom. He had looked in there briefly, it was just as ornate and gorgeous as the main bedroom, but the door directly across from his own led directly into Dudley's room. Luckily – and this was the only bit of luck so far, there was a key in the lock of his own door. Which meant he could keep his cousin out of his room at night.
That still presented the problem of actually sharing the bathroom though. He knew he would have to time his own use of the room carefully – making sure Dudley had already left for the day, before unlocking the door and going in there.
Harry's stomach grumbled a little. He had missed lunch, due to being locked in the room while Petunia, Vernon and Dudley went to their meal. He guessed they had told anyone who asked that he was suffering travel-sickness. When the family had returned, Vernon had dropped off a pre-packaged sandwich and a bottle of juice for his lunch. There had been nothing more than necessity in the gesture.
The man had paused in the doorway, casting a glare in his direction before speaking.
"I have the key. At eight o'clock every morning, I will unlock the door and we shall go to breakfast, like a normal family. Then you will be locked in here for the day. We will return for dinner at eight o'clock, allowing you to join us again. You will not leave this room, you will be quiet, or so help me..."
Vernon had paused and Harry had watched as the man's fist tightened, the knuckles whitening visibly. He had got the point. With that, Vernon had left, locking the door behind him.
Harry had eaten half the sandwich and drunk half the juice, despite having missed both breakfast and lunch. He had then placed the half eaten meal in the small cupboard in his bedside table, saving them for later. He had supplemented the meagre meal with water from the bathroom taps.
He rolled over, contemplating the next two weeks. He was sure Dudley would also lock his own bathroom door during the day, assuming Harry would sneak in there if he didn't. He thought that maybe he would test the door occasionally, just to see if he could 'borrow' one of Dudley's game stations to pass the time.
The dinner in the Hotel Restaurant had been alright this evening. Vernon chose his meal for him, and picked the cheapest meal on the menu. Harry hadn't minded, the hotel was such that even the cheapest meal was bloody good. Having had nothing but half a sandwich all day, it wasn't enough to satisfy his hunger, but it had curbed it a little and tasted nice.
He did sit at the same table as his guardians, but he was not engaged in conversation and almost totally ignored. After a while, even the waitress had learned to speak only to Vernon about Harry's meal. There were no excuses given, so Harry assumed, again, that Vernon had already told the staff some sort of cover-story for his presence.
Harry found that he didn't mind too much. It left him alone to his thoughts, even if he did catch the occasional calculating look from various staff members.
He sighed and stared out the window, watching the stars make their appearance and wondered what his friends were up to.
Breakfast the next morning was vaguely continental. Cereal, croissants, orange juice, coffee and tea. He took a bit of everything and discreetly tucked a wrapped croissant into his large sleeve, saving it for lunch.
He spent the day sitting on his bed alternately reading and practicing occlumency. At lunch time, he ate the sandwich from the day before and finished off the juice. He kept the croissant as a snack for later.
During the afternoon, he devised a simple, and probably silly plan, to get the key off Vernon. Despite his assurances to himself, he had grown quickly bored and was already developing cabin fever. He needed to get out. The breeze through the window wasn't nearly enough, and it brought tantalising scents and sounds with it that were tugging at his inherent curiosity.
When Vernon led his family down to the evening meal that night, Harry started putting the plan into action. First, he pointed out, in passing, the odd looks they were getting; briefly, and to Petunia. She began to do the rest of the work herself, talking incessantly about it to Vernon in an undertone.
Harry heard his name mentioned frequently over dinner and received more than a few glowers. His aunt and uncle spent almost as much time watching the staff, though. Just as Harry had hoped, they noticed the looks the staff were giving him.
He made sure he finished his meal well before the Dursley's did and put in part two of his little plan. He waited until a waitress was close by and then he gave them his best innocent and pleading look as he asked, "Could I have the key to go up to my room, please, Uncle?"
After forty or so minutes of Petunia nagging him about the 'looks' they were receiving, and the gossip they were no doubt the butt of, Vernon almost immediately caved. But he held his ground for a moment, with a wide, uncomfortable smile on his face.
"Whatever for, Boy?"
Harry grimaced ever so slightly, hamming it up a little for their impromptu audience, shifting his eyes to the staff and other patrons, "I, uh, need to use the bathroom and, well, you know, my medication's in my room..."
Vernon's face showed conflicting emotions for a moment. Harry recognised the dull rage that he was obviously fighting, but then insincere indulgence won out. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the key-ring.
As the man tried to hand him the key to his own room, obviously in an attempt to put a stop to whatever Harry was doing, Harry grimaced again and slightly louder than necessary said, "Uncle! I need my own key!"
Backed into a very tight corner, Vernon relented, ungraciously, and handed Harry the correct key. Harry immediately stood up, keeping the triumph from his face, not missing the deadly look Vernon was giving him.
"Thanks, Uncle Vernon!"
Harry was sure to lock both the main door to his room and the bathroom door when he entered. Though he quickly used the facilities before doing so. There was no telling precisely how Vernon would react after the little show at dinner, though Harry knew rage would be foremost amongst the emotions coursing his uncle's body.
He sat in the middle of his comfortable bed, listening intently to the movements in the hotel, waiting for the Dursley's to return. He didn't have to wait long; after about twenty minutes, he heard Dudley's whining and laboured breathing coming from the corridor. Two doors soon closed and Harry relaxed marginally.
He jumped when someone tried the handle of the bathroom door. Vernon. He relaxed once more when it didn't open and he could clearly make out a quiet but forceful curse. The next moment there was a polite knocking.
"Boy?"
Harry climbed to his feet and stood two feet from the door, "Yes?"
There was a grunt, "You're Aunt and I have decided to let you keep the key. But any ... freakishness, and we will take it back."
Vernon's voice was strained – obviously, the man was as angry as he'd thought he would be. He could easily imagine the tightening knuckles and bristling moustache. In an automatic reaction, he occluded strongly, forcing his emotions back as he replied, "Yes, Uncle."
He listened to the heavy footsteps as they moved away, heard quiet murmuring that could only be Vernon talking with Dudley, then the footsteps continued through the the hall, the main bedroom and were gone.
Harry did not sleep well that night.
Breakfast this morning had been incredibly tense, with Harry being almost totally ignored. Obviously, Vernon had had a chance to cool off, however, and from the looks of it, he had also had some words from Petunia, so Harry didn't worry too much. He also didn't feel the need to hoard any food this morning, either, understanding, with a simple joy, that he could now buy lunch whenever he wanted to.
He waited for at least half an hour after the Dursley's left, before going out himself. So, with Hermione's 'itinerary' in hand, he set off to explore the city.
Bath turned out to be as gorgeous as he had imagined on that first drive into the city. For a time, he sat on the rim of the roundabout fountain, looking at the complicated architecture of Laura Place, watching the tourists and people who worked in the city passing him, taking note of the fact that the roundabout actually marked the end of the all-access road – only busses swept past him and over the short connecting route to the rest of the city.
He enjoyed the occasional spray of cool mist that landed on him as he thought, contemplating what to do next. Well. He had two weeks in which to enjoy himself – so long as he avoided the Dursley's – so he finally settled on simply exploring the centre of town and perhaps doing a bit of shopping.
With that decided, Harry slipped off the fountain's rim and jogged across the roundabout, dodging a car pulling out of one of the resident's parking spaces. He grinned apologetically at the surprised woman driving and set off down Argyle Street and onto Pulteney Bridge.
As he crossed the bridge, Harry found himself interested in the design – it was one of few bridges left in the country that was almost indistinguishable from an ordinary street whilst standing on it. Pulteney Bridge was crammed full of small shops. As he walked down the left-hand pavement, towards a set of traffic lights, Harry glanced in each window. One window in particular caught his attention – it was crammed full of swords and daggers, one or two of them reminding him forcefully of Godric Gryffindor's sword.
At the end of the bridge, the final window looked into a tiny cafe. He passed it and turned left, finally catching a glimpse of the River Avon. He walked a little way up the Grand Parade and then rested his elbows on the low wall between the path and a drop into the river. His eyes glinted with interest as he studied the river, watching the oddly stepped water-fall set a hundred or so feet down-river from Pulteney Bridge – which, from this side, was elegantly arched and very well kept.
Amusingly, he spotted a man dressed in fake Roman military gear, complete with plumed helmet and shiny breastplate, standing on the opposite bank, handing out leaflets to anyone who looked like they'd take one. Two or three children were running around the man as he worked, nearly causing him to drop his stack.
With a glance to the right he found the reason for his earlier than usual wake-up. A rugby pitch, complete with stands and what looked like the changing rooms, come team house and managers offices. He'd woken when the team was running an early practice, from the looks of it.
After silently contemplating the view, Harry stepped back, glancing up at the huge and decorative hotel on the opposite side of the road. He smiled and made his way down Grand Parade, following the wall as it curved round to the right. He skirted some tourists, predominantly American from their accents, dodged past the waiting crowds at the two bus shelters and came to a stop at the wall again. He found himself looking down into a small park, a well trimmed lawn curving down the bank to the river's edge.
It looked to be a rather lovely garden, apart from the topiary smack in the centre. Harry crinkled his nose in distaste – it was a rather gaudy representation of a child's teddy bear. However, closer to him and with her back to him, was a large angel on a tall plinth. He promised himself to investigate later, maybe see if the gazebo he could see, deeper into the small park, ever contained a band.
Harry turned away, and keeping one eye on traffic, he crossed the wide road onto the roundabout with a very tall obelisk in its centre. Looking up, Harry smiled as he recognised the landmark Hermione had studiously told him to keep in mind. Bath Abbey.
On the other side of the road, across the roundabout Harry was standing on, Bath Abbey stood proud and very tall indeed. From his vantage point, he had a clear view of the huge stained-glass window which must surely be behind the alter when inside.
After a moment contemplating the suitably gothic architecture, Harry skirted some heinously red and flower covered, open top tour-buses and passed into its shadow. Deciding to take the right-hand route, Harry passed a statue-fountain on a pedestal – a veiled woman, pouring water from an urn or pot of some sort, standing on a pedestal.
He passed a couple of old looking shops – at least one of which appeared to be an antiques shop, another an old fashioned toy-store – and then stepped into the large paved area in front of the Abbey. There were benches lined along the right hand side of an expansive area of flagstones. The whole place was crowded – and not just by tourists from the look of it.
Harry had put on a bit of height in the past year, so he moved a little closer and stood on tiptoes to see what was going on.
There was a fire-eating man on a unicycle entertaining the crowd. Harry nearly choked on a snort of laughter, watching the man lurch intentionally back and forth, wowing the crowd with his strange acrobatics.
Harry looked over the heads of the crowd and took in the Pump Rooms and Roman Baths behind the unicyclist. Impressive Georgian additions to the original roman structure. Hermione had suggested he try the waters, and as he had planned to do so, he took note of where it was situated – hard to miss, right next to the huge Abbey.
Something in the large crowd flickered and just for a moment, Harry was sure he felt magic radiating from some of the people there. But a second later, the feeling was gone. He shook his head and made his way across the square, glancing up at the front of the Abbey as he did so; it was impressive, the stained glass windows with carved angels climbing up and down the carved ladders either side of them, were a sight to behold.
He determined to visit the Abbey as well during his stay – despite his distinct lack of belief, the building was still beautiful and a testament to what muggles could achieve, even without magic.
Harry passed under what appeared to be a pillared entry-way, a typical Roman style carved 'roof' that gave some much needed shade. To his left there was a small set of stone-steps leading to a barred doorway. A group of teenage muggle girls were sitting there, giggling with one another and watching him as he passed by them.
He stepped out of the shade and onto Stall Street, immediately guessing the name had something to do with all the hand-carted stalls there were spread about the wide pedestrian street. The place was crowded, even more so than the square behind him.
With a grin to himself, Harry set off to explore.
A/N: Those who have read the original version will have noticed that I moved a couple of scenes around and changed not only where Harry is staying, but also the style of room he is staying in. If people want an idea of where the Dursley's and Harry are staying, here is a link to the Dukes Hotel, a real hotel, on Great Pulteney Street: dukesbath(dot)co(dot)uk I took some liberties with the interior layout, though. In reality, the hotel is 3 star, but I described it as 5 star in the fic! Also, if you want to see a map of the area I am describing, let me know, and I can provide it easily. For those who don't know, I grew up in the Bath area, which is why I know it so well ^^
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