L turned to look at him. "No… No. It's just… I'm certain I've heard that name before."
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L was frustrated. Which wasn't much better than bored considering he was now wasting snacks rather than swallowing them without tasting them. If only that strange boy he and Wammy had run into would start making sense, L could go back to peacefully eating all the delicious tea snacks the hotel provided him. The fact that he had been too disinterested before to care for them was irrelevant.
L glanced back at the two laptops open on the sitting table before him to see if the searches had finished. Nope. He went back to masticating the six or so gingersnaps he'd grabbed off the tea tray earlier, causing Wammy to sigh slightly and leave the room to fetch a book. L swallowed and glanced at the searches open. Still nothing. He grabbed a handful of jam shortcake biscuits and jammed what would fit in his mouth, not caring that large pieces and crumbs fell to his seat and the floor. He turned from the computers and dug his toes into the couch cushion, sulking.
"Really L, you are going to choke yourself if you continue like that," Wammy had returned to the room with his book. L had thought the book would be used to excuse Wammy having to talk to him (and watch him eat) but it seemed that Wammy was in the mood to lecture first.
L ignored Wammy and started tapping and gripping the arm of the couch in front of him while his toes dug further into the plush pillow. Wammy was frowning at him, he knew, but that still didn't mean L had to respond. It wasn't as though L was being unreasonable. In fact he was doing everything Wammy had asked of him- he'd taken a vacation, he'd just talked to the Wammy's House residents two days ago (over the computer of course, and wishing them a grudging 'Happy New Year' at Wammy's silent insistence)- so if he felt like sulking a bit (not that he was of course, but that's what Wammy would call it), then that was perfectly acceptable.
Quillish walked over to an armchair close to the end of the couch L was crouched on and sat down. He watched L a moment, still resolutely ignoring him and now gripping the arm of the couch with both hands while he rocked back and forth. Really now...
"L, I know you don't much like accepting this, but..." Quillish took a breath. "The boy is likely not involved in anything shady and he doesn't appear to have any knowledge of us whatsoever."
L released the couch arm and then gripped it tighter, still not looking at Quillish.
"It was only a chance encounter and there is no need to be carrying on like this. I know you are normally right about people and I'm sure that, were it anyone else, you would have been, but Mr. Harry Potter was exactly as he appeared to be. A good citizen."
Quillish stopped and looked at L who had now stopped rocking and returned to tapping his fingers against the couch arm while keeping the rest of his body perfectly still.
"L?" He wouldn't look up and even lowered his chin minutely. Quillish sighed, yes this was a rather poor vacation. "Perhaps it would be best if we forgot about this now? We could start planning what to do tomorrow? A new sweets shop perhaps?"
L lifted his head slightly to answer, then jerked as he heard the 'ding' sound of one of the computers finishing its search and whipped his whole body around. Quillish sighed, well he could only hope the search revealed nothing more suspicious than the boy's personality had or L really wouldn't be able to let go of this.
L meanwhile was absorbed in the search results and was leaning half on the sitting table and hanging half off the couch. He wasn't sure whether to be excited or disappointed about what the search had found on one "Harry Potter," but either way Wammy owed him cake. L smirked. He knew he was always right, even when it looked like he was wrong.
"Come look at this Wammy," L managed to keep his voice level without showing how smug he was feeling, but Wammy still gave him a look that said he should try harder. L gave a tightlipped, childish smile. He could try not to be smug later.
"What exactly am I looking at?" Wammy was still giving exasperated sighs as though he thought perhaps L was getting obsessed over nothing. This would show him.
"These are all available records on 'Harry James Potter,' the boy we met yesterday. Do you notice anything unusual?"
"Well... There doesn't appear to be much here. I see that he is the leaseholder for the property at number nine Argyle Square, so he must be old enough to be financially independent, but..." Wammy trailed off as he looked below the property listing. "Where are his medical records? His financial records? He only has school records up to the end of his primary years? L..."
Wammy turned to look at L, bewildered at the odd files that had been found.
"Why does he have primary school records but no birth certificate?"
L smiled widely and delicately plucked a chocolate biscuit off the tea tray with his forefinger and thumb.
"I don't know," he nibbled the edged of the biscuit and hummed happily at the rich taste of the chocolate and butter biscuit. "But I will find out."
Investigating Harry Potter turned out to make for a rather entertaining afternoon. L especially enjoyed every time some contradictory or incomplete piece of information came up. Wammy would get particularly flustered trying to match up the disjointed profile they were slowly building with the "nice young boy" they had met.
First there was the fact that Harry Potter had no financial record whatsoever- except for buying the leasehold on number nine Argyle Square. A 70-year lease, paid in full with a special clause that specifically asked, politely, for the freeholder, or landlord, to 'butt out' and paid both service charge and ground rent in advance. The bank account that had made this huge transaction appeared overnight out of nowhere and then disappeared to the same place the next day.
Then there was the fact that Harry Potter had apparently never been to hospital. Ever. He had no medical record, no vaccinations, no check-ups, nothing! L wondered where Harry had gotten his glasses as there were no optometrist records either. Perhaps all this would make sense for someone who'd been hiding in obscurity his whole life, but 'Harry James Potter' had gone to school. Or, at least, he'd gone to primary school. Those records by themselves were confusing enough.
Harry had been applied by his guardians and relatives, the Dursleys, to only one primary while their own son had been applied to several. Both boys had ended up going to the same school anyway. Harry's marks had oscillated for several years before stabilizing at just under average- L noticed, just under his cousin's, Dudley's, marks. He wondered if there was a connection there. The teachers' reports Wammy had scrounged up hardly mentioned Harry beyond "average," "quiet," and "troublemaker." Apparently Harry had climbed to the roof of the school at one point and the fire department had to be called. He also had months, at various points, of sick-leave from school, but L knew it couldn't have been due to illness as Harry didn't have any medical records. Then, at the end of primary school, Harry had been enrolled to attend the local comprehensive school but never attended. Where he went, L didn't know, because there were no records after that point, save for the lease at Argyle Square.
What surprised Wammy most though (and L when he felt like admitting it to himself) was that Harry wasn't a teenager as they had thought. Going by his primary school records, he was a young man of twenty years. They still hadn't found a birth certificate, which was odd because all public primary schools required a birth certificate when the child was admitted to ensure they were the correct age. How had 'Harry James Potter' managed to get enrolled without submitting such documentation?
L swallowed the last strawberry from the fruit cup, then began the delightful task of breaking and eating the chocolate cup the sugar glazed fruit had come in. It was noted, in the school application form that the birth certificate and "all identifying documentation" had burned in the boy's parents' house. L selected a broken piece of chocolate and tossed it in his mouth. How convenient. Except for the part where 'Harry James Potter's' parents didn't die in a fire. L paused before selecting another piece of chocolate. Actually, L and Wammy couldn't find anything about how Harry Potter's parents had died, or where, or who they were at all.
It was easy enough to deduce that the mother was Lily Evans- the only other relation of the Dursleys aside from a "Marjorie Dursley" who had never married and had no children. But while the Dursley's files made for dull reading, investigating Lily Evans' life proved to be as difficult as Harry Potter's was. She had all the normal documentation one would expect, except... Her school and medical records stopped at the end of primary school as well. She did go in to see an obstetrician however, so L knew from that that she must be Harry's mother. But the missing school records and the lack of a marriage certificate...
Which brought up, who exactly was Harry's father? After two days, L and Wammy still couldn't find any male Potters that could possibly be related to 'Harry James Potter.' L picked up his tea cup (no cream, six sugar cubes) and took a delicate sip before balancing the cup on his knee and smiling. Yes, this investigation was confusing, frustrating (mostly for Wammy and due more to the lack of information than the lack of progress), and a huge distraction from L's so-called vacation. But it was a lot of fun.
L got up from crouching on the couch in front of the now two laptops and one desktop and wandered into the bedroom to look out the window. He wasn't quite sure what to think at this point and reminding Wammy again that he was always right would be rather shallow. Besides, he wasn't sure anymore what he was right about.
He had decided the day before to do a comprehensive search for the death of "Lily Potter" in the hopes that might turn something up. He and Wammy had done as many searches of police files from twenty years ago or so in police databases as they could without requesting any files as 'L.' He'd even convinced Wammy to send for his old files catalogue from Wammy House as most of those were of the right time frame. It had been a low chance and L hadn't actually thought anything would come out of it.
L looked down at the road below for an indeterminable amount of time before he heard Wammy returning to the suite with the special order donuts from a place a block off the London Chinatown.
"L?"
L turned from the window and walked back into the sitting room, hands in pockets and staring at the ground.
"Ah there you are! Here are your... L? What is it my boy?" Wammy paused from pulling a heavenly smelling box from a plastic bag and stared at L worriedly.
L walked over to him and opened the box he held one-handed, snatched the first donut he touched (chocolate creme with sprinkles) and wandered back to the couch. Wammy watched as he calmly stepped up onto the couch, turned to face the front and crouched down before taking a small bite of the donut.
"I have located Harry Potter's parents."
"You have? You know who the father is?" Wammy walked quickly over the the side of the couch and peered at the computer screens, trying to focus on whichever might have the information.
"Yes," L licked some of the cream smeared on his hand from biting into the donut and looked up at the ceiling, contemplating. "Wammy, do you remember when I first asked you to do this with me?"
Distracted, Quillish turned from trying to read three screens at once- they all seemed to be files they already had on Harry, so what did L mean? "Yes? When you were seven. I do remember. It was quite possibly the oddest conversation of my life, even taking all subsequent conversations with you into account."
"Do you remember the reason I decided to do this?"
Quillish looked at L over the back of the couch. L appeared focused on his donut and was speaking in a perfect monotone, giving nothing of what he thought away. It had been a long time since L had acted like this with Quillish.
"Yes, you dragged me into my office to show me a police file on my computer as part of your argument. You were terribly upset at the time and seemed most angry that the police weren't, ah, 'doing what they're supposed to!', were your words I believe." Quillish smiled fondly at the memory. "Then of course I grounded you and restricted some of your privileges for using my computer to hack police databases."
"Yes," L said a bit waspishly, not liking the reminder of his punishment from so long ago, but finally showing some emotion and making the mention worth it in Quillish's eyes. "But the file I showed you, do you remember that?"
Quillish thought a moment. "I believe it was a family of three, husband, wife and infant. The house had been invaded and the parents were killed. The baby was stolen somehow and the investigation was stopped and the murder covered up. You connected that incident with a number of other mysterious covered up deaths, didn't you?"
L finished the donut and licked his fingers clean. "Yes I did. But I never found any evidence of foul play- all the crime scenes were too old for me to do anything. I also lost track of the baby. However, I think we have just found him again."
"What?" Quillish startled. "Surely you don't mean-"
"Yes," L pulled up a case file from Somerset County dated October 31 1980. "The couple murdered were James and Lily Potter and their missing son is most likely Harry James Potter."
Quillish stared at the screen in shock. "But... this is-"
"A huge coincidence? I agree," L reached across the couch for the box Wammy had placed on the arm and pulled out another donut (glazed). "That is why I think we should begin a more... in depth investigation."
L bit the donut and smiled slightly. Yes, confusing, frustrating, but above all, fun. He rather liked vacations. He should take them more often.
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Harry yelped and jerked his finger to his mouth to suck on the cut for a moment. Why exactly was he doing this, Harry wondered, not for the first time that day.
"Master Harry sir, yous isn't holding potato like Kreacher is telling you!" Kreacher appeared suddenly at Harry's side, made him take his hand away from his mouth and then showed him again how to hold the potato properly. "Now, is Master Harry sir going to be careful or will Kreacher have to give him simpler task to be doing?"
Harry felt both abashed and insulted at Kreacher's tone and horribly embarrassed to see the other elves around the kitchen staring at him and whispering to themselves about whether they should fetch a bandage for "Poor Harry Potter sir's" finger. He grimaced slightly and tried to angle himself on the small stool so he was facing away from them all.
"No Kreacher, I'm fine. I can do this."
Kreacher nodded and then turned to the rest of the elves. "All right, all right! Everyone's back to working nows!" He turned back to Harry. "Once Master Harry sir is done with potatoes, Kreacher is showing him to make Master Harry sir's favorite chips!"
Harry glumly watched Kreacher walk off and looked at the half peeled potato in his hand. He wondered what he'd have been doing just now if he hadn't gone nutters about Ginny and the auror job and left it all. He sighed and admitted to himself that he'd probably have been just as bored then as he was now, but at least now he could blame that on the potato.
After the whole pickpocket event, Harry had sat in the living room of number nine Argyle Square until nearly three in the morning, trying to figure out why he had chased the thief in the first place. He hadn't even thought about it when he ran after the thief. He just reacted. Harry had frowned and thought that through. All his instincts were suited to being an auror, all the skills he knew were as well.
Then it had hit him. All he knew how to do was what an auror would know. He had never trained or learned to be anything else, so maybe- maybe he should! That is, he should learn to do something else. Once Harry had realized that, at about three in the morning, he had been elated. He could finally get his life in order, get a job and all his friends would stop thinking he was depressed and try to get him to go back to the auror department! It was perfect, only... Harry didn't know what to do. He was back to wondering what job he could do and he still had no idea.
That was about the point Kreacher had found him, wanting to know why Master Harry Potter hadn't been to twelve Grimmuald Place to eat the dinners Kreacher was sending him from Hogwarts and what on earth was Master Harry Potter doing living in a muggle house in the first place and did Master Harry Potter know that Master Harry Potter's friend and teacher at Hogwarts, "Perfessor Granger," was coming into kitchens to ask if Kreacher had seen Master Harry Potter lately because she couldn't find him? Harry had wondered briefly if the main reason Kreacher had come to check up on him was to get away from Hermione before he decided that he may as well ask Kreacher if he knew what kind of job Harry could do.
Kreacher had stared at Harry a moment as though Harry had lost his mind and then told him slowly "Master Harry Potter sir is auror he is. What other jobs would he be doing?" causing Harry to hang his head in defeat. Even a house-elf thought Harry was suited to being an auror. Maybe he should just give up?
Then Kreacher had surprised him by trying to cheer him up. "What is Master Harry Potter sir wanting to be doing then?" Kreacher had asked him gently. Harry had looked at him before saying "Anything but auror work." Kreacher had then surprised Harry more by tilting his head and actually appearing to ponder Harry a moment. "Then what is Master Harry Potter sir being good at that's not auror-ing?"
Harry tried to think, what was he good at? "Um, flying, I guess?"
"Does Master Harry Potter sir want to being flying for work then?"
Harry thought about quiddich. He could get on any team probably, but he probably wouldn't like the attention that would get him and as much as he liked flying and being a seeker, he couldn't really see himself doing that for a living. "Uh, no, not really. No."
"What else does Master Harry Potter sir do?"
Harry thought hard. Stuff he could already do, something he was good at or, at least, could build on and get better... He blinked.
"Er, I can, uh... cook and clean and stuff..." That was one of the reasons Harry had insisted that Kreacher could stay at Hogwarts to work and only occasionally come back to see to twelve Grimmuald and Harry. Harry had learned that a busily working house-elf was a very happy one and really, he could mostly take care of himself without help. Admittedly, Harry wasn't a marvelous chef or anything, but he could certainly cook breakfast and make sandwiches and as far as cleaning went, well- he was hardly around to make much of a mess and he could wipe up dust perfectly well. With Kreacher sending over a large dinner package once a week and summoning and washing his laundry, Harry was more than set.
Kreacher had looked at Harry a tad crossly and Harry had suddenly worried he might have offended Kreacher by admitting that he didn't really need a house-elf, but Kreacher had only nodded. "Yes, Master Harry Potter sir is good worker. But he should be doing more wizard-y stuffs he should!"
Kreacher had frowned then and looked up at Harry sitting rather morosely in the armchair, in the dark, at three in the morning and in a muggle house. Kreacher didn't really like to compare his new master (or any master) to his Master Regulus, because Master Regulus would always win and he shouldn't think poorly of his current master, but sometimes he wondered if Master Harry were really a wizard. Which was silly because everyone (Kreacher, Hogwarts, the whole world really) knew that Master Harry was a brave and powerful wizard. Kreacher wondered if being raised with muggles had broken his Master Harry somehow... But anyway, his master needed Kreacher's help and help he would.
"Does Master Harry Potter sir likes cooking and cleaning?" Kreacher had asked slowly, as if worried that this was a very bad thing to be asking a wizard.
"Eh, well... I don't really mind them. I mean, I like cooking food that I actually get to eat and I don't mind so much picking up after myself..." Harry had trailed off and tried to phrase himself better. "I don't think I'd like to clean for other people really- didn't much like it before- and I don't know much about cooking but-" Harry thought of all the marvelous feasts Molly had made and how happy she always looked when he ate something. "But, maybe I'd like cooking things for people..."
Kreacher had had the most twisted grimace on his face by then, as if he were in terrible pain.
"Ah! But, I don't have to, I mean, I could probably find something else-"
"Can Master Harry Potter sir think of anything else he can do?"
Harry had thought hard. Flying, cooking breakfast, cleaning, fighting the dark arts, and- ah! "I can garden!" Kreacher had brightened at this.
"Magic wizard plants for potions?" Kreacher had asked hopefully. Harry had cringed, ah right...
"Er, no, actually. I do pretty average. Mostly because I know how to garden muggle plants- the magical ones don't agree with me..."
Kreacher's ears had sagged, much like Harry's spirits. "What can Master Harry Potter sir cook?" he asked Harry after what seemed a fierce internal battle.
"Breakfast mostly. And sandwiches," Harry had looked at Kreacher carefully, wondering if anything he said might prompt violent action in the elf.
Kreacher had begun breathing rather heavily at that point and had barely gotten out "Would Master Harry Potter like to learn more cooking?" before falling over in a faint.
After Kreacher had woken up on the couch where Harry had placed him, they had both agreed not to mention the 'cooking plan' more than necessary and to head over to Hogwarts to begin Harry's new training in the morning. Truthfully, Kreacher hadn't been too thrilled with the idea of Harry learning to cook where other house-elves could see him, but Harry had sheepishly told Kreacher that he'd stopped buying groceries weeks ago and had been eating the massive number of pot pies and treacle tarts Molly had sent him for Christmas. Besides, if Master Harry was actually going to do this, then Kreacher was determined to make sure he would be better at it than any other wizard in the world (just in case anyone tried to point out cooking wasn't proper wizarding work, Master Harry would at least be the best) and the best cooks Kreacher knew were all at Hogwarts.
So the next day Harry and Kreacher had gone to Hogwarts, marched right into the kitchens, and Kreacher had imperiously told the other elves that his great and wonderful Master Harry Potter- slayer of evil, dark wizards, defender of house-elves, both good and bad, and greatest wizard with power over death!- had elected to learn proper cooking so he could feed other peoples who weren't lucky enough to be having house-elves to help them. Harry wondered if Kreacher was emphasizing that Harry would be feeding people without house-elves so they wouldn't be offended quite as much at the idea that a wizard was doing house-elf work. He'd done his best to ignore the titles Kreacher gave him- most of them he heard enough from other wizards, but the 'defender of house-elves' one was new.
After the other house-elves had gotten over the shock of Kreacher's announcement (as well as the shock of Harry Potter stepping into their kitchen) they had crowded around Harry and Kreacher, telling Harry he was such a "good, kind wizard!" and telling him what each elf was best at making and offering to teach him. Kreacher had made them all step back by saying that he would be teaching Master Harry Potter the basics and the other elves should work out a schedule to teach Harry various dishes each week as his skill improved. Harry soon found himself at the center of as much excitement as the death of Voldemort had prompted and sitting at a table learning the proper techniques to clean and cut various vegetables from Kreacher while other house-elves whispered encouragement when they walked past.
Then after a full day of dealing with more vegetables than Harry had even known existed and eventually blanching them, frying them, or sticking them in a soup, Harry had gone home exhausted only to return the next day to learn about... potatoes. There were literally dozens of ways to cook potatoes and Harry was terribly worried that Kreacher was going to make him learn them all- provided Harry managed to finish peeling them properly. He'd already been scolded for cutting the skins too thick, too thin, and accidently cutting himself three times.
Harry sighed. He was bored and he was thinking that he didn't much like vegetables and potatoes anymore, but at least he was doing something. Harry was vaguely cheered by that. After all, he was doing something and he was learning and it didn't have anything to do with aurors or dark lords or bloody pickpockets. Harry smiled and started peeling again, slowly- Kreacher had told him it was okay to start out slow. As much as he really hated potatoes right now, things were definitely looking up.
Harry woke, gasping, from a dream where a giant turnip with Kreacher's voice was chasing him with a ladle and chanting "Yummy mashed or boiled, but wash off the soil!" He really didn't like vegetables anymore. He pulled his glasses off the side table and peered at the clock- only eight o'clock. Today was Saturday, wasn't it? Harry sighed happily. Kreacher and the other elves had been oddly relieved that Harry had accepted taking weekends off from the cooking lessons- apparently it was okay for Harry to learn cooking but keeping the same work hours they did was much too un-wizardly. Harry had been relieved to have a break from what was turning out to be a more grueling schedule than the auror training program.
He considered going back to sleep and having a decent (and much deserved) lie-in on his first day off, but found he was too awake after that dream. Yawning, Harry got up and wandered off to get ready. He'd go out and relax somewhere nice and quiet- and he would buy every meal of the day and be thankful for it. Harry grinned. He wouldn't be having any vegetables all day either.
Once Harry stepped out the door of twelve Grimmuald Place, he went in the direction of King's Cross. He would go back to Regent's Park; there were lots of places to eat all around it and when he went last time he'd been too upset to really enjoy the outing. Maybe he'd even go back to the zoo and have lunch there- he hadn't gotten to some of the exhibits before it closed.
When Harry walked out of the Regent's Park station he pulled his coat tighter and stuck his hands in his pockets. He should be able to pick any direction, walk out of the park and quickly find an eatery. He headed off and barely went a block before he smelled fresh baked something and followed the scent to a cafe, just open for the breakfast crowd. Perfect.
Harry happily walked into Regent's Park while he ate a warm blueberry scone with butter. He leisurely passed by bare trees and empty flower beds and thought he should start coming here more often and when it was warmer. There would be larger crowds, but he wanted to see what the place looked like all green and with flowers everywhere.
Harry finished his breakfast by the time he reached Chester Road and debated crossing it or not. That mostly depended on whether he felt like going to the zoo or not. He could either cross and continue until he got to the zoo and spend the rest of the day there, or he could circle back around and explore this side of the park more thoroughly before continuing on. Hmm, well, he could always come back next weekend for the zoo, Harry thought.
When Harry turned around to go to another path he had by passed earlier he stopped and stared, bewildered. Standing about eight or nine meters behind him, looking much the same as before, were the two men from the pickpocket incident at the start of the week!
Harry blinked and wondered if he ought to wave or thank Mr. Reed again for the ride or if he should just continue with his walk. They probably wouldn't remember him... But before he could decide what he should do, the younger man, who'd never bothered to introduce himself to Harry, grinned and gave a large wave while calling, "Hello again!"
Well... It would probably be rude at this point to ignore them, much as Harry dearly wanted to after that startling greeting from someone who had made Harry feel like a fish in a bowl the last time they'd met. Harry dragged his feet forward and gave a nervous wave. He really hoped he wouldn't be stared at again. At least Mr. Reed was nice.
By the time Harry reached Mr. Reed and his... friend, the man had stopped smiling and had his thumb in his mouth and was staring at Harry for all he was worth. Great...
"Hello there young man," Mr. Reed smiled at him. "Harry Potter, wasn't it?"
Harry grinned back. "Yes. Mr. Thomas Reed, right?"
"Indeed. How are you this fine day? Taking another walk in the park?"
"Yeah. You too?" Harry asked, trying not to flinch when Mr. Reed's weird friend blinked and leaned toward Harry, still staring. If Harry didn't know better, he'd think the man was trying to creep him out.
"Yes, it is a splendid day for a walk, isn't it?" Mr. Reed smiled as he looked around at the mostly empty park and the chilly, overcast sky.
Harry laughed. "I thought so too!"
"Would you mind if we joined you Mr. Potter?" Mr. Reed asked Harry, smiling at him kindly. "We're tourists you see and get lost easily."
"Ah, well, I've only been here a couple times and as long as you stay in the park you won't get too lost. There are signs," Harry said as helpfully as he could. If it were just Mr. Reed, he would agree in an instant, but having the other man follow him around and stare at him... If he felt like being stared at on his day off he would've just gone to Diagon Alley.
The odd man cocked his head to the side and blinked. "Would it help if I didn't stare at you?" he asked in a flat voice.
"Ah, yes..?" Harry said, startled.
The man nodded and smiled slightly. "I won't stare then," and with that he turned sharply around and started walking slowly back down the path.
Harry stared after him. What the hell was that about?!
Mr. Reed coughed politely. "I do hope he hasn't upset you, Mr. Potter. He's not the most sociable of people..."
"Oh, no! It's alright, I guess, and um, just Harry is fine, please," Harry knew he was jumbling his words again and he was probably going to offend Mr. Reed somehow.
"Then I should like it if you called me 'Thomas,' Harry," Mr. Reed- Thomas- smiled at Harry as though trying to put him at ease. "And please think nothing of my companion's behavior, he doesn't know how not to be rude I'm afraid."
Harry's lips quirked slightly. "I know some people like that."
"We all do," Thomas laughed before looking at Harry more seriously. "You needn't walk with us if you don't want to, lad."
"No!" Harry felt rather bad now. He certainly hadn't meant to upset Mr. Reed- Thomas. Perhaps he should try to be more polite to the other man. "I don't mind walking with you, er, Thomas, really. I was just, er, surprised."
Thomas grinned at him conspiratorially. "He is a rather shocking sort, isn't he?"
Harry laughed. "Yeah." He and Thomas turned to follow the man they were now talking about. "Actually he reminds me a lot of this girl I know, from school." Harry smiled fondly. "She always stood out a lot. Oh- But she knows how to be polite once in awhile!"
Thomas and Harry laughed together as they reached the man waiting for them. "So where are we walking?" he said, pointedly not looking at Harry. Now that Harry'd talked with Thomas, he found the odd man a lot more funny than before. It helped that the man reminded Harry so much of Luna. Come to think of it, she'd stared at Harry an awful lot the first time they met too.
"I was just going to wander around the whole park," Harry told him. The man continued staring at a nearby tree.
"Very well. You were planning to come back to this path, weren't you?" he said before setting off down the side path that Harry had indeed been thinking of when he turned around earlier. Thomas and Harry followed him.
Harry was rather enjoying just walking in quiet company next to Thomas when he realized that the man walking ahead of them seemed to be in a bad mood. Harry thought maybe he'd been more offended at Harry admitting to not liking being stared at than he let on. Harry frowned. Why someone should be offended at not being able to stare rudely at another person was beyond him. But, he decided, he would try to make peace for Thomas's sake.
"Er, you know, you never told me your name," Harry called ahead to the man in front of him.
The man stopped and looked over his shoulder back at Harry. "No I didn't," was all he said. Then he turned back around and continued walking.
Harry all but gaped after him. This man was worse than Malfoy! Thomas coughed next to Harry. "Please, don't mind-"
But Harry had already left Thomas' side and caught up with the offending man. "Listen!" Harry said angrily as he stepped in front of the man. "I'm trying to be polite here! You're the one who's being rude! You're the one who wouldn't stop staring at me without being told to! You're the one who never bothered introducing himself even though it's common courtesy! You're the one who called out for me to join you! If you didn't want to bother at least pretending to be nice, why did you even bother asking me to walk with you!?"
Harry was practically shouting by the end and he stood shaking as he stared furiously at the still un-named man. So much for trying to be polite.
The man, meanwhile, had put his thumb in his mouth and was chewing it roughly as he stared wide-eyed at Harry. He took it out to say, "Thomas asked you to walk with us," and then promptly put it back in to resume chewing.
"Huh?" Harry relaxed his stance and looked blankly between the odd man and Thomas, who'd caught up and was looking at him worriedly. He blinked. Did he really just shout childishly at a man in public? He felt his face burning and turned swiftly around and started walking as quickly as he could up the path. Maybe they'd forget what happened...
The odd man appeared suddenly in front of Harry, making him jerk. He glanced up at the man's face, saw that he was still chewing his thumb and grinning, and quickly looked down at the ground. He felt like an idiot.
"William Tale," the man said smugly.
Harry glanced up. The thumb was more resting on the man's lower lip now and the grin was wider than ever. "What?"
"My name is William Tale," the man said and he turned around to continue walking. "Pleased to meet you."
Thomas came up next to Harry as he stared, flabbergasted, after Mr. William Tale. "Well, shall we keep going then?" Thomas asked Harry pleasantly.
Harry eventually calmed down enough to start enjoying the walk again, which under normal circumstances would have been very pleasant indeed. As it was, Harry was only able to enjoy himself because Thomas made a point of conversing with him every time William, as he insisted on being called after hearing that Harry and Thomas were using first names, turned to look at Harry and grin at him. William was acting as though he'd won a quiddich match and now had bragging rights over Harry and Harry was quite sure he'd have yelled at him again were it not for Thomas.
Harry was now associating William with both Luna and Malfoy in his head and was finding the experience alternately funny and frustrating. He sighed as he tuned back in to the conversation with Thomas and William about where to get lunch. Thomas was trying to explain to William that as they had taken Harry out of his way, he should be allowed to pick where they ate. William countered, saying that Harry would have gone through the park without them anyway and his pick would be better than anything Harry choose anyway. Harry finally ended the debate by admitting that William was likely right as his own method of choosing a place to eat was based more on random chance than anything else.
William smirked at Harry as if he'd won yet another invisible game and Harry just stared at him blankly and lifted his eyebrow, trying to say silently "What game? You think I'm actually trying?" William frowned at him and turned away to sulkily lead the way to his choice of eatery. Harry grinned. He could deal with this.
dpdpdpdpdpdp
L slouched further as he walked, listening to Wammy (sorry- Thomas, he thought in disgust) chatting pleasantly with the Potter boy behind him. This morning- no, this entire investigation- had not gone at all as he had planned.
First, after he had decided to begin investigating Harry Potter more closely, he had gotten into an argument with Wammy about whether it would be okay or not to install surveillance cameras in number nine Argyle Square. Wammy had insisted that L shouldn't invade the boy's privacy when they were investigating him more for L's amusement than for a case. L had tried to explain that it would be the fastest way to find out what sort of conspiracy was surrounding the Potter boy. Wammy had then told L that, conspiracy or no, the boy was innocent in his parents' deaths and his own apparent kidnapping. Therefore, he could not be treated like a criminal.
L felt that Wammy was missing the point entirely and tried to sneak a camera into number nine Argyle while Wammy went to buy sugar lollies. Wammy (who knew L far better than L liked to admit) of course caught him and said (rather despairingly) that it would be permissible to follow Harry Potter around in public instead. L had grumbled but ended up agreeing when Wammy looked like he was considering not going out to buy snacks anymore.
Then, when they started the first day of surveillance of Harry Potter, he had ruined it by not coming out of the house! L had been furious. Didn't the boy have a job? Disappearing bank accounts aside, Harry Potter had paid a rather sizable sum for the lease on his home. Surely he had to do something to fund such purchases. L had been fully prepared to follow Harry Potter to some black market smuggling operation that day and had been severely disappointed at the no-show.
Even worse, once the boy had shown up both he and Wammy had missed his exit from the property. They had been shocked to watch him stroll leisurely down the street, past number nine Argyle Square and right in front of them and neither of them knew how he got out of the house. It had worried L that the boy had managed to appear like that- as if from nowhere- and he thought that maybe Potter had noticed them watching the house front and was toying with them. Then Potter had confused L even more by leading them to King's Cross to take the London subway system, acting for all the world as though he didn't know he was being followed.
L and Wammy had been especially cautious when following Potter through the Underground, but had again been confused when the boy led them to... Regent's Park. Where he did nothing more suspicious than buy a scone from a bakery and wander down the main path into the park.
By that point, L was bored, confused and vaguely angry and had been more than ready for something more interesting to happen. So when Potter had finished his scone and made to turn in their direction, L had decided to stay in view and set up a more controlled encounter than their last one. He quickly gave Wammy his instructions and gave a large and loud greeting to Harry Potter so there would be no chance of the boy feigning obliviousness.
Wammy did well in gaining enough of Potter's trust to get him to walk with them and L was secretly delighted to find that the boy was unnerved by him. They had only been walking a short while before L had a chance to test some of the boy's reactions by denying him a name. That had been both a startling and amusing event.
L had been sure that Potter would press for something to call him by but what he got was an explosion of nerves and complaints about his apparent treatment of the boy. L had been shocked and had replied with the first thing that came to mind. That the boy had immediately calmed down at that and then made as if he were humiliated by the outburst and tried to abandon their company as quickly as possible had also surprised L. Perhaps Potter wasn't really concerned with having a name for L after all.
L had caught up with Potter before he could get too far and, having been so pleased by the boy's unexpected reaction to his simple manipulation, L had given a name he hadn't meant to. He'd been planning to use the pseudonym 'Derrick Wallace' as he already had an ID made up for it. Oh well, he'd just have Wammy make documents for 'William Tale' and hope he wouldn't need them before they were ready. He was simply too pleased with Potter's outburst to worry about anything else.
The outburst was an important point as far as L was concerned. It revealed a great deal about Potter's mental state- L was certain now that the boy was under considerable stress- and his reaction to L's simple rebuttal showed so much emotion that L was certain that it was all quite genuine. Potter had revealed far more about himself than L had- despite giving the wrong name- and L couldn't wait to find a way to use this information.
Unfortunately, after that Potter stayed annoyingly close to Wammy (and when exactly had they decided to use first names?) and Wammy was allowing it! L had tried to integrate himself into their dull conversations about the weather and the park by offering use of his own first name (not that he cared if they used first names) but found that most of his attempts at conversing with Potter were resolutely ignored. Wammy had begun to give L a look whenever Potter clammed up, forcing L to draw back so Wammy could engage the boy's attention once more.
L had been hopeful when Potter had unexpectedly spoken up during the debate about where to eat and surprised both Wammy and himself by agreeing with him. L had thought this meant the boy was warming up to him somewhat and would be more malleable to a subtle interrogation by him later. But then Potter had turned to L with a look that told him "I'm not affected by you at all" and mocked L totally.
So now L was annoyed. Again. And it was entirely Harry Potter's fault. All L felt he could look forward to at this point was something sweet at his choice of restaurant.
L led Wammy and Potter out of the park toward Prince Albert Road and tried listening to whatever it was they were discussing now. He didn't really think they would be talking about anything of interest but, as Potter had apparently decided not to talk to him at all, he had no choice but to try and gather as much information from the dull topics Wammy had chosen (L never approved of small talk no matter what Wammy said). They seemed to be talking about zoos now. Potter had been to one when he was a child and had eaten a lemon pop and was disappointed that he couldn't get one at the London Zoo last week. L tried to think of what valuable information could be pulled from such statements other than the boy having poor taste in ice cream. L himself would never choose such a sour treat.
As they walked down the street, L heard Wammy and Potter ending their discussion and called out without turning around. "The restaurant is just ahead, but I'm sorry to say they do not have any lemon pops Harry." There was silence behind him and L glanced over his shoulder. Potter had a clearly annoyed expression on his face and was glaring at his back before he could make his face blank. L grinned at him which made Potter roll his eyes.
"Now don't be disappointed Harry. They do have other ice creams," L told him. Potter responded with the same blank "I'm not bothered" look as before and L turned back around to glare at the walk ahead. He couldn't get to the desserts soon enough.
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A/N: Thank you everyone for reading and for reviewing! I hope to get the next chapter up soon~
So, I thought I'd make this chapter more L heavy than the last one. Harry's thoughts just go on and on, don't they? Unfortunately, L is an exhausting character to write from and I'm having a hard time getting him to do anything I want. The first meeting with Harry didn't go as I'd planned because L insisted on having a car and then L tried to put cameras in Harry's house and I had to send Wammy to stop him... Absolutely exhausting.
The worst part though is that L is behaving like a selfish, obnoxious child and is making Harry dislike him rather a lot. How on earth am I going to get them to be friends if they hate each other??
Oh well.. In other news, I finally got my beta off her lazy butt and the chapters should be all fixed up and reposted. Also, I felt very clever when I came up with "William Tale." I wonder if anyone can figure out why? ^^