Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling. This story belongs to me.
Sticks, Stones and Broken Bones
Chapter 5: The First Step
"How is he, Molly?" Arthur asked quietly as he walked over to the stove where his wife was busily preparing breakfast. He had been woken early this morning by the voices coming from downstairs, but he had decided on instinct to stay away and let Molly deal with it.
Somehow, he had a feeling now, as he stood in the kitchen as the morning light shone through the window, that he had made the right decision.
He could tell, especially from the way Molly was working almost feverishly on preparing the eggs, that something had happened, and that it had something to do with the boy they had rescued last night. Having seen his terrible condition, obviously a long term problem rather than something new, Arthur knew that the boy was probably feeling overwhelmed by everything. He suspected that his presence wouldn't have helped matters.
Arthur had faith in his wife though. He had never met anyone with as much compassion in their soul as Molly Weasley, and if anyone could make the boy feel welcome in their home, she could.
As she turned to face him now, Arthur was particularly struck, though, by the tiredness and concern on Molly's face, at a level that had not even been reached last night as she had attempted to heal the boy.
Oh, something had definitely happened.
"He tried to leave this morning," Molly replied wearily, answering the question that had formed Arthur's thoughts only moments before. "The boy...his name's Harry. He was almost out the door, but Ron woke up and somehow managed to convince him to stay."
She gave a sad smile to him as she turned back to look after the bacon, her hand shaking slightly as she turned the sizzling meat over. Arthur's expression changed quickly to worry and his mood plummeted almost immediately when he realised that she wasn't quite finished.
"There's more, isn't there?" Arthur asked somewhat shrewdly, and he didn't even need to ask the question really, as the answer was clear on his wife's face.
"He was terrified when I first met him," Molly said angrily, almost losing the bacon from the pan as she allowed her emotions to take control for a moment. "Someone has hurt that poor boy."
"His parents?" Arthur asked, his eyes wide in horror as the implication of his wife's words finally sunk in.
"They're dead. He never even knew them," Molly replied sadly as she served the food onto four plates.
Breakfast would hopefully be a more quiet affair this morning.
Percy had secured an internship at the Ministry so he wasn't going to be around the Burrow much over the summer, and the twins had taken Ginny to the Lovegood's House for breakfast, so it was only Molly, Arthur, Ron and Harry at the Burrow for the moment, hence the use of only four plates.
She honestly didn't want to do anything to overwhelm the boy any more, especially after seeing his reaction earlier, and she knew her family could be boisterous at the best of times. Ron had flat out refused to leave, but even so, the absence of the twins alone made things a bit easier.
"Whoever hurt him," continued Molly, as she sat down wearily at the table, "was supposed to be looking after him! He's terrified of going back. Arthur, we can't let him go back!"
"Hush," soothed Arthur as he sat down and pulled her into a gentle hug. "We'll do what we can Molly. That's all anyone can ask of us."
"But he's all on his own, Arthur," Molly said desperately, mirroring the words Ron had said to them in the alleyway as the tears of worry finally escaped from the corner of her eyes. "Do you think we can help him?"
"We'll do our best," assured Arthur softly as he stood up. "Where is he now?"
"He's taking a shower," Molly replied, raising a shaking hand to brush a tear from her cheek. "I've given him some of Ron's old clothes to wear. Ron's in his room, sorting out the spare camp bed. Harry seems to be more comfortable around someone his own age, so I thought it would better if they shared a room for the time being."
"You did the right thing, Molly," assured Arthur as he noticed the doubt swirling in his wife's eyes.
"There's something else," Molly said unsurely as she glanced towards her husband. "It could be nothing, but..."
"What is it?" Arthur said, anticipation mounting by the second.
"I...Last night when I tried to heal him," began Molly, "he was so badly hurt. His head injury...well, I almost fire-called St Mungo's at one point."
"What are you trying to say?" asked Arthur, his brow furrowed in confusion as he looked towards his wife.
"He was badly hurt," Molly said. "He shouldn't even be awake yet, let alone be up and about."
Molly raised her eyes to meet those of her husband, almost imploring him to come to the same conclusion as she herself had.
"You think he's healing himself," Arthur said, comprehension blossoming in his expression. "You think he might be magical."
"Is it so impossible?" asked Molly quietly as they heard the shower turn off finally. "He could be a muggle-born who never made it to Hogwarts. It wouldn't be the first time."
"I can ask Professor Dumbledore, if you want," Arthur said softly. "He'll know if any muggle-born students didn't reply to their Hogwarts letter. If he's a runaway like we suspect, it's possible that the envelope simply couldn't find an address for him. He may not have had an address at all."
"Please, ask Professor Dumbledore" said Molly gratefully, sighing deeply. "I just want to help him. It's clear he doesn't know anything about our world, but if he's magical, it would make things easier on all of us."
"That it would," agreed Arthur, nodding. If the boy was going to be staying with them for the time being, hiding the fact that they were magical would have been almost impossible in the long term, and revealing magic to muggles in circumstance like these was always a dangerous grey area in the law. "I'll think I'll skip breakfast and head over to Hogwarts before work."
Arthur stood up and walked over to the back door, straightening his robes as he grabbed his notes for work.
"Look after him, Molly-wobbles," Arthur said with a small, sad smile as he gave his wife a kiss on the cheek. "We'll have this sorted in no time."
Optimism had always been one of Arthur's best qualities, but although he was doing his best to remain positive for the sake of his wife, even he had his concerns for what they were trying to undertake.
He knew from the look in his wife's eyes though, that the decision was already made. She had fallen hard for the young boy they had rescued, and Arthur knew from experience that she would do everything in her power to help him. If that meant that they had yet another mouth to feed, so be it.
If they could help the boy, then they would. It was as simple as that.
Harry walked slowly down the narrow stairs, one hand tightly grasping his old, ratty clothes and the other tugging slightly at the feel of the new ones that he had been given.
It wasn't that they were uncomfortable; in fact, the problem was that they fit him quite well. He was so unused to the sensation, since he had not even had clothes that fit him when he had lived at the Dursleys, that the clothes felt weird on his small frame.
The fabric of the t-shirt was soft, much softer than his old dirty one, and felt wonderful against his newly cleaned skin. His hair, whilst still damp, was clean for the first time in a long time, and seemed blacker than ever now that it was free of mud and dust.
Harry felt good, and that put him instantly on alert. He had spent so much of his life simply surviving that he was wary of allowing himself to fall into a false sense of security now. In his experience, good things never lasted, and in all honesty, Harry didn't want to set himself up for a fall.
It would hurt too much.
Clenching his fist slightly in an attempt to stop his nervous ministrations, Harry steeled himself to enter the kitchen, the smell of food just too good for his starving stomach to ignore.
He hovered outside the closed doorway though, suddenly nervous about going into the kitchen. Ron's mum had said he could have something to eat, hadn't she?
Doubt clouded his mind as he fought against the panic that was rising up within him. He hated not knowing what he was supposed to do.
Living on the streets, he had had no rules to follow except his own, but everything was changing now, and he was terrified.
Would it be like it was at the Dursleys? Harry had never experienced family life except at Privet Drive, but even there he had never really been included. He suspected that the Dursleys weren't exactly representative of what family life should be like, but what if he was wrong?
What if he did something wrong?
"Harry?"
Harry jumped slightly on instinct, immediately regretting the fact that he had allowed himself to dwell so deeply in his thoughts that he had lowered his guard. Already his survival instincts were fading away because of the comfort and kindness being offered to him here, and Harry felt a thrill of fear run through him as he thought about what that would mean if he ever went back to the streets.
"Harry," Ron said with a frown, as he joined Harry in the kitchen doorway. "It's only me, mate."
"Sorry," said Harry, instantly flushing, his gaze dropping to the floor.
"Shall we go in then?" Ron said unsurely, having noticed Harry's embarrassment, but clearly willing to ignore it.
Harry, having pushed away his previous doubts for the moment, happily grabbed on to the excuse to escape his embarrassment. He nodded and nervously followed a relieved looking Ron as he walked through the doorway into the kitchen.
Wonderful smells wafted towards Harry as he entered through the threshold. Food he hadn't eaten in years was being loaded onto the table, in piles that would feed at least ten people comfortably, and Harry's mouth watered at the sight, almost tempting him to grab at the food and eat as much as he could before it was taken away, or eaten by someone else.
That's how it had always happened at the Dursleys. Harry would cook the food, and then he would likely be forced to watch as his cousin and Uncle demolished it, leaving barely a crumb for Harry to scrounge later.
His eyes wide in hunger, Harry dragged his attention away from the feast to greet Ron's mum, his stance wary, but with much less fear in his expression.
It was her eyes, he decided. Her eyes were kind, something he hadn't really noticed during their awkward first meeting. It was clear to him now though, as she silently invited him to sit at the table, wordlessly taking the ratty clothes from his unresisting hand so that she could no doubt destroy them, that whatever happened during his stay here, however brief it was, somehow he believed she wouldn't hurt him.
Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Harry sat down, and didn't miss the look of relief that briefly flicked over her face at the action.
"Here you go, Harry dear," she said kindly, picking up his empty plate and loading it with eggs and bacon, far more than Harry had ever eaten in one sitting in his entire life. "Eat as much as you can."
Nervously, Harry took the offered plate and began to pick at the food, desperately trying to taper down the instinct to wolf down the food as quickly as possible, desperate as he was to sate the agony of the hunger he felt. It was even harder, though, because in the seat opposite him, Ron was doing precisely that. Harry knew, though, from long, hard experience, that he didn't have that luxury.
Molly seemed to know it too, and she gave him a small, sad smile as he lifted the fork to his mouth slowly, her eyes encouraging, but holding an emotion that Harry couldn't quite decipher.
Was it pity? Sympathy?
It was another thing he didn't know, and he knew it would be a while before he became as good at reading human behaviour as he had had in the past. Years of living the Dursleys had taught Harry how to read every situation, every emotion on his Uncle's face, anything that would give him a slight advantage in his quest to survive.
If his Uncle had had a bad day, or was simply in a bad mood, Harry had often paid the price, and over the years, he had become very good at spotting those emotions early, thereby staying out of his Uncle's way and avoiding much of the anger that would no doubt have been directed at him, had he been there to take it.
Now though, after years of living on his own, with minimal human contact, the skills had diminished somewhat through lack of practice.
Pushing this new consideration and worry to the side for the moment, Harry continued to eat at a sedated pace, choosing instead to savour each wonderful bite, as he cherished the first hot food he had had in years.
All too soon, though, Harry felt his stomach begin to rebel, and it was with a heavy heart, and a slightly protesting brain, that Harry pushed his half eaten plate away from himself. Unfortunately though, he knew it was for the best. He couldn't afford to be sick.
"Finished, dear?" Molly asked kindly, and Harry noticed that she had barely eaten anything herself as most of her focus had been on watching him.
Harry nodded in reply and nervously stood, picking his plate up, and making a move towards the sink to wash it up.
"Don't worry about that," Molly said, stopping him in his tracks. "Ron will sort those out."
Ron, who was still stuffing his mouth full of food, spluttered slightly at this, but a stern look from his mother quickly stalled any serious protests. Reluctantly, Ron picked up his own plate and walked over to Harry, taking his plate from him before making his own way over to the sink.
"Sit back down, Harry dear," Molly said kindly, but Harry was a little unsure. Was he in trouble? She seemed worried about something, and apprehension grew in Harry as he saw her nervously wring her hands together as she gestured him to sit down.
"Now," she continued, and Harry held his breath, "there's something I need to talk with you about."
Harry sat up in his seat, his feet just reaching the floor so that he could run if necessary. Molly seemed to notice something had changed in her newest charge however, because she looked concerned for a moment before her expression turned to one of understanding.
"Oh, you're not in trouble," she assured him. "It's just...Oh, this is difficult."
"Have I done something wrong?" Harry asked dejectedly, his eyes wide in desperation. "I'm sorry."
"Harry, you've done nothing wrong," Molly told him, her tone almost stern. "It's just...there's something you need to know about us, and something we need to know about you."
"What do you need to know?" Harry asked wearily, his expression untrusting.
"Last night, you suffered some bad injuries," Molly began, but Harry just shrugged as if it meant nothing. He had been through worse, and a few cuts and bruises were nothing in the grand scheme of his life.
Molly noticed the shrug, but she seemed to be steeling herself to say something difficult so she didn't react to it.
"Harry," she continued seriously. "You shouldn't have recovered as quickly as you did, even with the healing I tried to do on you. Has that ever happened before?"
"Erm...well..." Harry began unsurely, having never really thought about it before. "I suppose I've always healed pretty quickly when I've needed to. I'm sure that's normal though. It's not like I'm anything special."
"Actually, on the contrary," Molly said with a small smile, as if her suspicions had just been confirmed. "I think it makes you very special indeed."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his heart racing in anticipation.
"Harry, now this is very important," began Molly gently, her eyes kind but her tone serious. "Has anything strange ever happened around you, perhaps when you were particularly scared or angry? Anything you couldn't explain?"
Slowly, deliberately and with his eyes full of fear, Harry nodded his head.
A/N- So, this has taken a while to be finished, and I'm sorry for that, but I wanted to go back to some of the earlier chapters to clean it up a bit and get rid of some of the mistakes that I missed the first time.
There was one particularly bad error where I wrote in one chapter that Ron didn't have his wand, and then later wrote that they tracked his location by his wand! Oops! Thanks to Fawkes Flame for catching that one.
In fact, I've added a few bits and pieces in all the chapters so it might actually be worth re-reading them. Anyway, thanks for all the support, thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!