Hey! I don't wanna go back to school... :(

Enjoy!

Harry swallowed, stepping into the hospital room, where he saw Mara's mother, lying on the bed, a thousand wires and tubes connected to her. She was still beautiful, slightly tanned with shoulder length black hair. He closed the door and drew the blinds. "Hi Mrs Jaffray, I heard they started keeping you here,"

"Hello Harry," she murmured weakly "What are you..." there was a long pause as the struggled for breath. She was hazy, only in and out of consciousness. Harry guessed he was lucky she was awake now "Doing here?" she finished eventually. Harry stepped closer, his hands shaking. And he placed the water bottle, he'd just bought from the cafeteria. And then the white tablet. "You look very guilty." She murmured. Harry stiffened, he felt incredibly guilty, this tablet should be common place everywhere. And of course she noticed, even in this state. She was good, and Harry was painfully obvious.

"Listen, Mrs Jaffray, please sit up," she managed too slightly and Harry placed the tablet in her hand "Eat this-"

"What is it-"

"Please." He groaned, eyes glistening with tears, he was so nervous! He couldn't be doing this, if he was found out...he couldn't imagine what would happen to his father. She seemed to grasp his desperate tone, and Harry had never done anything bad to her before, so she placed it in her mouth, and swallowed it whole with the water. He sighed in relief "Thank you, thank you, Mrs Jaffray,"

She looked up at him with weary eyes "What was that, Harry?"

"I have to go," he whispered, looking around, he looked around the room and swallowed "It would...uh, it would be better if you didn't tell anyone I'd been here, okay? See you when you get out," he gave her a reassuring smile, but Mrs Jaffray was not reassured.

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" She asked "We can help Harry, our family's always been there for you,"

"Bye Mrs Jaffray." He said quickly, opening the door "Feel better." And he slipped away, disappearing into the crowd.

Line Break

"So Bertrum," Poppy beamed, smoothing her purple skirt as she followed the butler around his duties.

"Yes Mrs Poppy?" he asked, polishing the brown stand that held a large extravagant vase.

"How long have you known Harry?"

"All his life, my dear." He answered with a small smile "He's a rather incredible young lad, isn't he? Not as gifted with science as his father would like, but my my my, his maths skills are excellent. I'm sure he could get a scholarship into any university, not that he'd have a problem paying of course," he smiled slightly and Poppy laughed.

"Cool. So uh...what does he...what does he like?"

"Like?" Bertrum frowned, and then relaxed with a laugh "Oh you're talking about his upcoming birthday," Poppy nodded eagerly, done trying to be subtle about it. Bertrum had never understood subtlety. "Well...it's always rather difficult to get Master Harold a gift," he sighed "He's not a very materialistic boy. I recall, one year, I bought him a silver watch, which he thanked me for, graciously, and insisted he paid me back, ridiculous really. But the next year, I organised a day where he and I went down to the dog shelter, and just spent the whole day with those four legged fiends." He laughed heartily "Oh the poor boy wouldn't stop hugging me."

Poppy found it hard not to smile whenever Betrum smiled, he was just so kind, and it wasn't at all fake, it was all genuine and real. "You're close to Harry aren't you?" she wondered aloud. She wondered about Bertrum, about his life as a young boy. And realised with a jolt, that he had probably been here, as a young boy, with his father working around. Maybe that's how he understood everything, and the Osbornes respected him and treated him like family in the way they did to not other members of staff.

"As if he was my son."

Poppy smiled "He loves you." Bertrum smiled sadly, "I don't know...what should I organise then? Like a day in the park? Or a walk in the forest?" she sighed "This is so hard! Why can't he be normal and accept a watch? Or a nice new pair of shoes?" Bertrum sighed.

"Oh, Master Harold would kill me if he found out." His voice was quiet, as if Harry might hear him. But Harry had told her he was out, with errands to run, and she was perfectly fine staying here, this was like a home to her. Of course, except for the fact that she didn't know where everything was. She only knew the basic layout of the ground floor, the gardens, how to get to Harry's room, Mr Osborne's study and the bathroom. Bertrum pushed his old and wrinkled hand into his pocket and pulled out a key ring. It was full to bursting, with over one thousand keys hanging from it. All at different stages of rusting, but they were so old and huge and majestic. Poppy was hypnotised, and she imagined how heavy that must be. "Follow me," he whispered. And he started walking up a long and wide staircase, covered with a lovely posh rouge carpet. They walked along the corridor, and Bertrum took a left, and then a right, and then three lefts in a row, and as they ere walking up the third flight of stairs, Poppy wondered if she would ever truly know this castle, this mansion, this impossible rich thing. She knew the little that she did, but she didn't know anything of the east wing, of the south wing, or the north tower. Of the science lab or the home theatre. There was a games room somewhere, Harry spoke of it highly, a woodshop.

Bertrum stopped in front of a wooden door, beautiful and solid, with a golden knob, which was exactly the same as the others. He scrolled through the keys and picked one easily, though Poppy doubted she could ever tell them apart. She stopped and scalded herself. For goodness sakes! She was a Clarke! She could learn the ways of this building, the keys to each door! Had she inherited nothing from the Clarke blood? She could do this! The key turned in the lock incredibly loudly and she jumped, fearful that Mr Osborne would appear suddenly. Bertrum pushed open the door, and he closed it behind them, before turning on the light.

Poppy gasped.

Paintings, beautiful paintings were everywhere. Hanging lovingly on the walls, some on the floor leaning against them. Some piled up in the corners, there was a small table, in the centre. Where a mug was sat, from where someone was once drinking coffee. They were beautiful! Hundreds and hundreds of vivid paintings of landscapes, mostly. Of clouds sailing through a blue sky, of the artic, of a hunter and a deer. One of underwater rocks, and another of a swan on a lake. Though there were a few paintings of bowls of fruit, but they were all fantastic. And all had a signature in little, tiny black letters painting in the corner. H.O. There was a painting resting on the easel, with a pallet of paints on the table beside it. But it was covered with a thin white sheet. But Poppy knew it was new, she could smell the fresh paint. "He paints?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bertrum nodded "Oh yes, and he's very good. He only started once he found a few of his mothers old paintings, he discovered that she loved it. He started with copying some of her old designs, and when I saw his knack for it, I truly encouraged it. Took him on trips, to new landscapes to paint, I brought bowls of fruits, imported. It was wonderful for him." He looked down "He used to paint in his bedroom, but one day, Master Norman came in, and he didn't like it." He was almost scalding himself "It was my fault really, I should have known he would have a bad reaction. For a few moments he actually thought his wife had painted them, but when he saw Harry with that silver paintbrush. The silver paintbrush that she used. He banned him from ever painting again. And Harry was actually going to listen to him!" His old grey eyes sparkled slightly with tears "I couldn't let that happen. I moved all the paintings in here, the easel and the paints, and I stole the silver paintbrush from Norman's room, and bought a thousand more. Harry was angry when I showed him, said I was betraying his father, but then he realised...and he comes here, hides his masterpieces. They'd sell for a fortune."

"Doesn't anyone check?" Poppy whispered in shock, curling one of her pigtails in her hands, blue eyes large and examining, she stepped towards the easel, and that canvas, the one out of the hundreds canvases she couldn't see.

"Miss Poppy," Bertrum chuckled "There are a million rooms in this old house. No, this one is quite safe. Almost as safe as the west tower."

"There's a west tower?" She exclaimed, laughing, she brushed her hair back. "Can I see that painting?"

"No." Bertrum sighed "He'd notice. Master Harold always notices when someone touches something. He goes on red alert, sure his father has found it. I'm the only person with a key to this room."

Poppy half smiled, and hugged Bertrum tightly "You're a really good man, Bert," she laughed. He stiffened for a moment, before hugging her back.

"You do for family, and soon, you'll be a part of this family. And good too, this place needs someone with a smile to liven it up. It's like a cemetery in here." Poppy nodded, and followed Bertrum out, where he locked the door loudly. Poppy spent the rest of the day wandering the house, and she felt like Belle in Beauty and the Beast, where she's examining the beasts castle. So crossed so many doors, and stopped at one, maybe she was on the sixth or seventh floor? She wasn't sure, but it was slightly ajar. She peaked her head in and smiled. It was a library, of course it was. She was tempted to call Mara, and then stopped. She couldn't really be friends with Mara right now, it was far too awkward, what with the weird situations going on with her and her brother.

"Poppy," Harry grinned when she left the library and it's dusty books. He frowned, looking around "What are you doing on the seventh floor?"

Oh it was the seventh floor, Poppy made a mental note. "I..."

He laughed at her "This is all medical stuff, that's the medicinal library, down there's the lab, up there's the medicine cabinet. Through that door's the new high-tech sample system." Poppy laughed, giving up on trying to follow his maniacal hand gestured. He ran a hand through his hair and examined her. She was wearing a purple skirt, with a white, long sleeved top, emphasising her slender figure. "I hope you didn't get bored." Poppy shook her head, and hugged him tightly "Bertrum tells me the two of you had a talk," he wrapped his arm around her and led her back to the steps. "What did you talk about?"

"All your past girlfriends." She teased, kissing his cheek. Harry rolled his eyes

"Yeah, one. And that was Mara. Are you telling me you spent-" he glanced at his watch and his eyes danced with joy and laughter "-three hours talking about Mara?" Poppy ignored him and raced ahead, you could truly run in this house. And it was great, endless never ending corridors to sprint down full pelt, stairs to jump down, bannisters to slide down. Poppy stopped by a bannister, and swung both her legs over, Harry watched amused, as she slid down. "What was that?"

She arched an eyebrow "You've never slid down a bannister before?"

"No." He frowned "Should I have?"

"Yes!" she called from the bottom of the steps "Do it now!"

He frowned again, the little line between his eyes as he peered down "What if I fall? I'm guaranteed a broken leg." Poppy arched an eyebrow, and he was sure she was muttering the word wimp. He laughed, swinging his legs over, taking a deep breath, and sliding down the smooth piece of wood. He reached the next landing in record time. "What a time saver!" he cried, "Wow! That took like four seconds! I could get from my room, to the kitchen, in like 6 seconds! Thank goodness for gravity!"

Poppy rolled her eyes "Sure, see the educational side to fun."

He nudged her, and they both raced for the next bannister.

Line Break

In the hospital, the monitor beeped.

Mara and her father stood together, watching Mrs Jaffray. It beeped again, and again, and then, she opened her eyes. And she smiled. "Hey guys," she whispered, and she sat up, when the doctors had said she would have no energy, Mrs Jaffray looked better than ever! Incredibly full of life and just like she used too. "I think..." she shook her head and laughed "I think it's gone!"

Mara wanted to faint, she knew about science, and she knew that it couldn't just go, but goodness gracious, she would take this miracle. "Mum!" she cried, hugging her, Mr Jaffray cried tears of joy. Doctors bustled in, confused, but pleased. Researchers were puzzled, but the nurses just kept hugging them. The Doctor who had been treating her stood stumped, as he watched the happy family sign the forms and leave. He examined the chart and shook his head.

"A miracle?" he whispered to the nurse beside him "Really? God just decided to cure this one then?"

"She was a very kind woman." The nurse noted "She was also very talented. She's a journalist for a newspaper."

"A nun died of cancer last week, you're telling me this woman was kinder than a nun?" he snapped, the nurse said nothing, changing the bed sheets with practised hands. "I'm sorry Linda," he sighed "But it's just...it's wonderful of course, but where was this miracle when my little boy died of lung cancer? Or than girl in ward 4 last week? It doesn't seem fair."

"One's better than none."

"And I guess I'll have to take that. The little miracles, praise them when they fall."

Review?