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By the time he finished going through the trunks and wardrobes he could reach and actually open, he'd added quite a lot of things to his growing collection. All three of the bookcases were filled with books, another one was littered in trinkets. He'd found an old clock (which yelled out times to eat and sleep) as well as a sphere that displayed the constellations around the room in a moving circle when the two halves were twisted in just the right way. It had a black marble stand, which he placed on the cracked table.
It soothed something in him, the neglected little boy who had nothing, to have things, even if they were as secret as his snakes. Everything was old, found, and dubiously stolen, but they were his now. James had let them rot in storage for years, so Harry claimed them. And he loved them already. He'd even given in and unpacked the books he'd stolen from Dudley. The Lord of the Rings, several Roald Dahl books, and Swallows and Amazons were displayed right next to a couple books on Potions.
When he finally went back to reading, it was with shoes that actually fit and comfortably wrapped in his new blanket. It smelled a little musty from sitting forgotten about for who even knew how long. Most of his original questions had been answered by the time the clock told him it was seven and time to eat something. He waited until none, hoping Alex had at least gone to his room before he made his way up to the kitchens.
Mippy and Pokey were thrilled to fix something for him. They whipped up another light meal for him. He ate it at the kitchen table that night, with a history book propped open in front of him.
Fully ensconced back in his hiding place, Harry relaxed on the sofa, with Morgan draped around his neck and Hiss and Corra soiled up on the cushions next to him.
Before he went to sleep that night, he spent twenty minutes figuring out how to set an alarm on the clock to wake him at five.
He wasn't sure how James would react to Harry moving himself to a room other than the one he'd been given for the weekend. Plus, he was feeling protective of his new things. Any time he'd ever had anything of his own, Dudley had destroyed it. Harry still had the separated head and body of the black stuffed puppy he'd come to the Dursley's with, which Dudley had ripped in half when toddler Harry wouldn't let him keep it.
With Alex having decided Alex wasn't worth his time for anything other than being a punching bag, he needed for James to at least tolerate him in order to survive the next month.
For the first time he could remember, Harry fell asleep full, warm, and if not happy, at least content.
"It's time to wake up!" the deep voice up the clock echoed through the silence, followed by the sounds of clanging bells at half past five.
With a yell, Harry tumbled from the sofa, and rushed to shut it off. He flopped onto the floor with a groan. He wasn't unused to jarring wakeup calls or the early hour, but he'd been sleeping much better than he ever had before.
Shadows towered around him in the dark room, inching forward from the towering trunks stacked all around him.
"Stay here," he hissed at the snakes as he got up. He tossed the heavy blanket over them and sneaked back up to the room he was supposed to be in.
The room was dark and cold, but the smell from whatever Alex had done had finally dissipated. It lingered, but it was bearable. And hopefully would be gone soon. Someone, the house elves most likely, had cleaned the bed off and replaced the shredded duvet. He barely spared the rest of the room a glance as he fell into the plush bed. Unable to keep his eyes open, he drifted back off.
A couple of hours later, he was the first one to the table. Mippy and Pokey had already set the table and were bustling around the kitchen. The morning paper was waiting for James, neatly folded on the table.
Once again, the tea was perfect. He added a dash of sugar and just a bit of cream, not enough to drown out the taste of the blend, which was far superior to anything he'd ever had, but just enough to make it smooth and slightly sweet.
James came stumbling into the kitchen a few moments later while Harry watched the elves cook. He was dressed impeccably in a black jacket that flared open around black trousers as he walked. A black leather belt wrapped around his waist. It was trimmed in silver, fastening diagonally across the front. Hints of red lining could be seen on the underside as he moved.
Unlike his clothes, his hair was even messier than Harry's own, and his eyes were bloodshot with deep purple circles beneath them.
He yawned heavily as he sat down at the table.
"Morning, Harry," he croaked. His voice was hoarse and scratchy.
"Morning," Harry greeted.
James didn't even glance at the paper as he set it aside. Instead, he poured a cup of tea and downed it in one gulp. Then he refilled the cup and added a splash of milk.
Harry wondered if he had ever heard of coffee before, because he didn't look as though the tea was doing him any good.
"How was your weekend?" James finally asked as he started on his third cup.
By then, their food was on the table. Mippy had added a rasher of bacon to his eggs and toast, which he was happy to have.
"It was fine," said Harry.
"And how was Alex?"
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If you want to read 30 advanced chapters earlier or just want to support me on Patre-on.
{P} {A} {T} {R} {E} {O} {N}
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