Harry woke up to the door opening, blinking the sleepiness away as he climbed out of the car. He never got to ride up front before and was a little sad he missed it, but the car only had two seats so he might get to do it again, right? Any thoughts and sleep went right out of his mind when he looked at the house they'd parked at, and his very wide eyes quickly turned to the neighbours' homes as well, taking in all the sizes and colours. Every house seemed to have a different colour, and they were all so big and tall, at least two times as big as Aunt Petunia's! Mr Wright's had white and blue coloured wood and big, strange windows that seemed to come all the way out of the house before going back in instead of just being on the wall.
"Come on, let's go in" Mr Wright's call snapped Harry out of it and he hugged his things a little closer, walking behind the man.
He almost couldn't believe Mr Wright had taken him away from the Dursleys, and not even to an orphanage! Instead, he was walking into a big, bright house, not even knowing what he had to do. He stopped in surprise at the big living room, with lots of white on the floor and the walls, and blue couches spread around a big fireplace. Mr Wright really liked blue, he thought while looking around. When he looked at Mr Wright again, he was already halfway up the stairs and Harry hurried to catch up, careful not to run but walking quick.
There were a lot of doors upstairs, and Harry was curious about what could be inside the rooms but knew better than to ask. They stopped in front of one of the doors, the fourth one, he counted. Mr Wright opened the door, walking in, and Harry followed after him.
"You'll be staying here" Harry could only blink up at the man, confused.
It was a big room, bigger than Dudley's, with a pretty soft blue on the walls and a big bed in the middle of it with dark blue curtains around it and white sheets and fluffy-looking pillows on top. There were square windows on both sides of it, not like the ones downstairs, with the curtains open to let the sun in, and a big wooden box was put right in front of the bed, like the ones Dudley kept some toys inside. There was also a wardrobe in front of the wall on the left and on the right one was a desk with a chair, and a dresser too, closer to the door they came in through. There were even some bookshelves on the wall in front of the bed, with some books on them but not even close to full. It was such a pretty room, Harry thought, maybe Mr Wright went the wrong way?
"It's a room," he said, a little sad that Mr Wright would remember who he was and correct himself now.
"Yes, your room" Mr Wright insisted, making Harry a little upset.
"Freaks don't get rooms," he told the man, not sure how he didn't know this already.
Harry looked up, watching as Mr Right seemed to realize something, and waited for the directions to the cupboard, or the attic, Aunt Petunia sometimes told him she'd make him sleep in the attic if he made too much noise. Instead of talking, Mr Wright walked out of the room. Harry fixed his hold on the bundled-up sheet in his arms and followed behind a moment later. They went to the other side of the corridor, two doors in, and opened it. Harry frowned at the sight of dark walls with a lot of bookshelves and a big brown desk with an armchair behind it and two in front of it. This wasn't it either, was Mr Wright okay? He almost asked, but Mr Wright had started opening drawers and Harry thought maybe he was looking for a key or something like that.
"Aha!" Mr Wright seemed to find what he was looking for, and Harry was glad he managed not to jump at the loud sound, watching the man pull a little box out of a drawer and sit down on the chair behind the desk "here, sit down, we're going to… play a game. You can put your things there" he pointed at one of the two armchairs in front of the desk.
Harry didn't like games much, at least not the ones he'd played before. Maybe Mr Wright's game doesn't hurt, he told himself and made his legs move, but didn't let go of his things when he sat down on the armchair. Mr Wright opened the box and turned it so the things inside would fall, and Harry watched a bunch of red pins, like the ones he saw on the corkboard in the school corridor, fall out of the box and spread on the table.
"Now, what… oh" Mr Wright reached for something on the wall and pulled a tiny corkboard, or at least tiny compared to the one at school since this one looked the size of a big notebook on top of the desk. He took the stuff pinned to it out and put it to the side, leaving the corkboard empty. "Now, take some of these" he put a few pins in front of Harry, who couldn't be more confused "here's how the game goes: We're going to talk about something we don't agree on, and when we start, we put a pin on the board" Mr Wright picked up a pin and stuck it on the corkboard to show him, "if while we talk, we find something else we need to talk about before the first thing is solved, we put another pin on the board" he picked up another pin and put it next to the first one. "We need to remember what the pins are for, and when we decide on something, we take off the pin" he took both pins out, putting them back on the desk "when we talk about something, you'll tell me what you think and I won't get mad, and I'll tell you what I think, then we'll both think about what we said and figure out what makes more sense. Got it?"
Harry nodded numbly, head reeling at the idea of the game, especially when Mr Wright said he wouldn't be mad about things. He could lie and say what he thought Mr Wright wanted to hear, but- Mr Wright's superpower would tell him Harry's lying, so he couldn't do that. Maybe he really wouldn't be mad? Harry could only hope.
"Now, we'll always try to take off all the pins before leaving, but in case something happens and we can't, we'll write what the pin is about on a piece of paper and get back to it whenever we can" Mr Wright added "alright?"
"What's it called?" Harry asked, not sure if he should, but all games have names, right?
"Wha-oh, well, let's call it… Pin-It" Mr Wright smiled slightly "unless you can think of a better name?" when Harry shook his head, Mr Wright picked up a pin "now, I think you should sleep in the bedroom I picked for you." he put the pin on the board.
"Freaks don't get rooms" Harry explained again, frowning a bit.
"Why do you think you're a freak?" Mr Wright asked, putting a second pin on the board.
"Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia say so" Harry mumbled "I do freakish things, so I'm a freak"
"What did they call freakish things?" Mr Wright put the third pin on the board and Harry wondered if they'd ever leave the office. But he had to answer, and he couldn't even lie!
"Aunt Petunia tried to put an ugly jumper on me, and it got more small every time she tried," Harry said in a low tone, not really wanting to talk about it "and one time she cut almost all my hair off, and it was all back the next day. Uncle Vernon said I did something freakish to get him in trouble with his boss too, and Aunt Petunia says my parents were freaks, so I'm a freak too"
Mr Wright frowned and Harry looked down at his lap, sure that now the man got it and would be sending him off to the cupboard. He jumped when something hit the desk and looked up to see a really big book in front of Mr Wright.
"You know what a dictionary is?" When he nodded, Mr Wright opened it, eyes narrowing at the book as he turned the pages "here we go. Freak: someone who looks strange or behaves in a strange way" he peered down at Harry, who shrunk back on his chair "you look pretty normal to me, Harry. Now, about the things you say happen around you, I think I can find a different name for that" he starter turning the pages of the dictionary again before stopping on another word "here, it means 'special powers that can make things happen that seem impossible', do you know what I'm talking about, Harry?" he shook his head again "I'm reading the meaning of the word 'magic'"
"Uncle Vernon says there's no such thing as magic" Harry points out.
"Is your uncle always right?" Mr Wright asked, pinning the fourth one.
"He says he is," Harry shrugged.
"What if he said… the sky is green?" Mr Wright suggested, raising one brow, and Harry smiled just a bit at the silly question.
"It's not true," He said, shaking his head.
"How do you know?" Mr Wright asked, and Harry thought he'd never answered this many questions ever, not even at school.
"'Cause I can see the sky, it's blue, 'cept when the sun's going away, then it's pink n' orange n' yellow n' then black" Harry explains.
"So you know it's a lie because you've seen it, but what if he lied about something you have no way to know about? Like magic?"
"So magic's real?" Harry's eyes widened.
"It could be, growing back your hair sounds pretty magical to me," Mr Wright says and Harry's hand immediately moves to his hair, looking hopeful "so how about we forget that word your uncle used, and call it magic instead? Is that alright?"
Harry can only nod.
"Great!" Mr Wright says, taking off a pin "so we agree that your uncle isn't always right, that's one pin off the board. And now we agreed that there are no freakish things, just magic, so that's two pins" he says, taking off the other "and what do we call someone that does magic?"
"Magician?" Harry whispers, legs bouncing in place as this man he only just met seems to want to turn everything he knows on its head.
"That's right, so what are you, then?" Mr Wright asks with a smile.
"I'm a magician?" Harry answers with a small, unsure smile of his own.
"Exactly!" Mr Wright says, taking out the second to last pin "and I think magicians need bedrooms, don't you?"
"I- um- yes?" Harry stutters out, eyes slightly wide, and grip loosening on his things as he leans back on the armchair.
Mr Wright didn't think he was a freak, he thought he was a magician! And Mr Wright had superpowers of his own, so maybe he was right. Maybe Harry did have special powers too, that sounded too good to be true.
"Mr Wright?" He called a moment later.
"You can call me Michael, y' know? Or Mike, my friends call me Mike" Mr Wright said as he took the last pin from the board.
"W-what if I'm not a magician?" He asked, past the fear pooling in his belly. What if he wasn't what Mr Wright said, just a freak, and he was wrong?
"Well, then that's okay too" Mr Wright smiled "you don't really have to know it right now, y' know? Not even grown-ups always know who they are. I do know that you're a child, and children sleep in bedrooms, so you need one too. How about that?"
He looked down at his little grey sheet wrapped around everything he had. The room was so big, the bed was so big, Uncle Vernon would say he's wasting a good room on him. But… maybe Uncle Vernon didn't have to be always right, maybe he could sleep in his own room, just for a bit. Mr Wright did say he was only here 'for now', so maybe he would go somewhere else later, and could have the room for now.
"Thank you" Harry mumbled, not really sure what else to say. Mr Wright looked a little mad, and he almost said he didn't really need the room, but when he was about to say it Mr Wright started talking again.
"You're welcome, Harry" he watched Mr Wright get up from the chair "come on, let's get you settled"
"Why don't you put your things on the bed and I'll show you where everything goes?" Michael suggested, not yet over being thanked for providing a child's basic needs. Oh, the temptation to go back to the Dursley household was almost too big, but he had more important things to focus on at the moment.
He watched as Harry hesitantly placed his bundle on the bed and unfolded his makeshift sheet bag to show the contents inside. He could see a couple of shirts, looking as big and worn as the pyjamas the boy still wore, a pair of pants and some shorts, along with underwear and socks that had clearly seen better days, and a pair of worn black sneakers. The clothes seemed to be most of the sheet's contents, leaving only a small pile of folded papers and a couple of plastic toy soldiers. Hell probably had a special place reserved for this boy's relatives.
"You can put your drawings anywhere you like, and you can keep the clothes on the wardrobe on the dresser, whatever's easiest to reach," Michael told the boy, he'd organize things himself but had a feeling the child would not feel comfortable with him taking his things from him at the time "you can put your toys on the chest by the bed, and your shoes go on the shoe rack" he pointed at it, sitting empty under the bookshelves. He could tell Harry might need some time alone, and he really needed to talk to Marie and explain some things "I'll let you put your things away, and you can meet me downstairs for lunch, alright?"
Harry nodded and he took it as his cue to go, leaving the door slightly ajar before making his way back down to the living room. So much had happened already, it was hard to believe it was barely past midday. He stepped into the kitchen to see the white-haired woman waiting for him, hip leaning on the kitchen island and arms crossed over the front of the yellow apron.
"So?" Marie prompted, looking at him expectantly.
"He's putting his things away in his room," Michael said, sighing and running a hand over his hair "if they can even be called that. The few clothes he has are old and too big, I'm pretty sure they were his cousin's before, and only one pair of shoes, I- how can people treat a child like that?"
"You can hardly call them people" She shook her head and placed a hand on his arm "you did the right thing, she would be proud of you. So am I."
"Thanks" He smiled slightly, knowing she was right. His mum was one of the best people he'd ever known, always happy to help those in need, she would have been the first in line to slap some sense into Harry's family if she was still around.
Marie Fellowes had been with them since he was a child himself, working on the house and as his nanny when his mum was busy at the studios and dinner parties he only got to attend when he was older, she was just as much a part of the family as he was. Hearing she was proud of him felt just as good over twenty years later as it did before.
"Now go get some plates and help me set the table, I'm not as young as I used to be" She instructed with a pat on his arm, letting go of it to grab a bowl from the kitchen island and walk out towards the dining room.
"Lies and slander" he replied with a chuckle, going to grab the plates.
The table had a little bit of everything, with both chicken and meat, rice and mashed potatoes, two different beans, and some roasted vegetables, and he had to smile at Marie clearly having gone all out in an attempt to cook something the boy would like. He appreciated the effort, even if he had a feeling Harry was unlikely to refuse any given food, at least for a while. With his thoughts back on Harry, he decided to check on the boy and walked into the living room to see him just coming down the stairs.
"Did you finish settling in?" the boy only nodded, so he continued "come here, I want to introduce you to someone, and then we're having a late lunch."
He waited until Harry reached him to make his way back to the set table, watching Marie place the last utensils and turn to them with a smile.
"Hello, darling" She greeted with a smile "I'm Marie, it's lovely to meet you"
"Y-you too, ma'am" Michael could easily hear the nervousness mixed with curiosity in the child's voice.
"Marie is a friend, she used to be my nanny and the housekeeper, but now she just comes around to cook way too well and nag me into eating" He explained with good humour, earning a slap on the shoulder for his trouble. He caught Harry's flinch at Marie's action and held back a sigh "If she's around and I'm not, you can ask her for help with anything"
"With that said, let's eat" Marie prompted, taking the seat on his left.
He'd already sat down and put his napkin on his lap when he realized Harry had yet to move from his initial position at the entrance.
"Harry? Is something wrong?" He asked, noticing Marie had also focused on the child.
"I can't eat yet, I didn't help" Harry explained, and Michael froze, wondering if he'd ever stop getting angrier at his former client.
"You don't need to earn your keep here, Harry. Marie does the cooking, she's paid for it" though he knows the pay is hardly why she sticks around "you just have to sit down and enjoy the meal, and thank her once you're done."
Harry still didn't move and was instead looking at Marie, who was quick to smile at him.
"He's right, I quite like my job, young man. If you want you could help me take the dishes back once we're done?" She offered.
"Alright" he still seemed confused but sat down on the chair to Michael's right, looking at the napkin for a moment before glancing at their laps and copying its placement.
"Now, tell me what you'd like to eat so we can fill that plate of yours, you're much too skinny" Marie requested, for which he was glad. She was much more used to children, and Michael's head was still getting around the fact that he'd acquired one of his own for the time being.
"A-anything's fine, really" Harry answered quickly "I don't eat a lot, I promise"
Michael clenched and unclenched his fists on his lap before cutting into whatever response Marie was about to give - though by her look she was much too stunned to say anything at all.
"Harry, do you see how much food there is on the table?" He waited for a nod before adding "If we don't eat it, it could go to waste, so there's no reason not to eat. So what I want you to do is eat anything you'd like until you can tell me you're not hungry without lying, can you do that?"
"Anything?" Harry asks incredulously
"Anything, but I'd like it if you ate at least some vegetables, they're good for you" he assured and proved it by grabbing a spoonful of mashed potatoes "here, would you like some?"
"Yes sir" Harry answered with a little awed nod, and he went on to offer some of each dish until the bottom of the boy's plate wasn't visible anymore.
Marie's proud smile was only overshadowed by her clear upset at having to explain to a child he was allowed to eat. Lunch goes by quickly after that, and while Harry didn't refuse most dishes, he's sure Marie's already filed away the fact he seemed to like mashed potatoes a lot more than rice and ate his carrots a lot earlier than the peas. Michael himself kept an eye on the boy's plate, and whenever Harry seemed unsure about eating more, he asked if he was still hungry. It was amusing to see how the child believed wholly in his power to tell truth from lies and didn't answer until the third time he asked. Once Harry was done, he immediately got up and tried to take Marie's empty plate from when she'd finished earlier than the boy.
"I can take this one, dear," she told him "you can help by bringing your own plate, fork, knife, and cup up to the kitchen, but that's all. And don't argue with me."
He watched with some amusement as Harry seemed to swallow a possible response and nod, grabbing the requested items. Michael himself gathered his dirty dishes and a few empty bowls to take to the kitchen as well, following behind the two. Once the table had been emptied, he called Harry to the side and left Marie to her work.
"Harry, are you tired?" he asked as he moved their conversation over to the living room, setting himself on one of the comfortable couches and watching as Harry hesitated before sitting on the one facing him.
"No Sir, I can work, I promise" Harry was quick to answer, and Michael sighed at not explaining himself very well.
"You don't have to work, I just wanted to know if you were up to going shopping. You need more things since you're going to be living here" he explained, and Harry started to shake his head.
"I don't, really" He seemed eager to assure, and Michael's heart broke a little at the sight "I won't be expensive at all, I have stuff already"
"You're not-" he paused and held back a sigh, standing up instead "come with me to the library, let me show you something"
Harry followed without question, and he wished it didn't bother him as much as it did. He entered the room on the opposite side to the kitchen and dining room, moving towards one of the large, filled bookshelves, and browsed a few of the titles before finding the small book he was looking for. He sat down on the closest sofa and patted the spot by his side. Harry seemed a little nervous but sat down by his side quickly enough.
"Do you know what laws are?" he saw the boy nod, but that wasn't enough "tell me, then."
"It's rules and if people break them, the police arrest them," Harry said, in more of a questioning tone than he'd like.
"That's right, and these rules most of the time keep people from doing bad things, but some people just ignore the rules and they're wrong. The Dursleys ignored a lot of those rules, can you read these for me?" he asked, offering the book open on a specific page, not sure if the boy could read already or not, he didn't quite remember at what age he'd learned to read.
Harry looked at the book with bright, curious eyes and nodded, so Michael let him put it on his lap. He did notice that even with his glasses, Harry seemed to squint at the words for a moment before reading.
"De-cla-ra-tion of the Rights of the Child" Harry started and went on to read the ten following principles that made it clear that the Dursleys were not following most of those rules.
Michael watched as the boy looked blankly at the book once he was done reading, starting to feel a little worried, and startled as Harry stood up and ran from the room, the book falling to the floor, entirely forgotten as he hurried to follow. He could now hear hiccups in the distance and paused in front of the stairs at the sound of Harry's bedroom door being forcefully closed.
"What happened?" He heard Marie ask and turned to see her hurrying to his side.
"I'm not sure, but I think it's long overdue" Michael admitted with a shrug that didn't do anything to disguise his worried tone.
Marie huffed.
"You take care of this boy, Mike" she instructed, giving him a little push towards the stairs "I've got a feeling you'll be good to each other."
He blinked as she simply turned and left after that cryptic statement, but he had more to worry about at the moment and chose to go up the stairs instead of asking what she could possibly mean by that. Reaching the door to Harry's room, he knocked softly on it.
"Harry? May I come in?" He asked, not sure if his presence would be welcome or not.
"'S yo-our ho-ouse!" Came the answer in between hiccups, and he opened it just slightly.
"But it's your room, and I won't come in if you don't want me to unless I think you're in danger" he declared, not doing more than peek into the bedroom to find the boy's curled-up figure wedged between the bed and the nightstand, knees pulled up to his chest as he sobbed into them. "I wish you'd tell me what's wrong"
"T-they t-took it!" the loud answer from the usually subdued child startled him, and he took a step into the room "I-It was mine! I c-could have it a-all the time a-and t-they t-took it a-and no o-one said-" the yelling was lost to indistinguishable sobbing and Michael's heart broke a little more, no matter that he didn't understand exactly which right the child was so upset about. Not that he shouldn't be, but it would be easier to reassure him if he knew exactly what was wrong.
"What did they take, Harry?" He asked, walking a few steps closer and kneeling in front of the crying child.
"M-my n-name!" The answer was muffled against the boy's arms, but he could hear it loud and clear.
"Oh," he spared a moment to curse the Dursleys to the ninth circle of hell for the tenth time that day, before softly placing a hand on the boy's arm "com here, Harry" he requested, and the boy limply let himself be pulled into a hug not solely to his comfort "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" he whispered into his hair, letting the child's sobs shake their bodies and his tears soak into the fabric on his shoulder "You'll never go back there again"
"P-promise?" The tone was filled with reluctant hope, as were the green eyes suddenly locked on his.
"I promise."