Harry Potter and Unexpected Beginnings

Harry Potter and Unexpected Beginnings

Chapter two

Harry's little room was exceptionally warm, and he was forced to sleep only in his boxers with the covers kicked to the foot of the mattress. Beside him on his small desk sat the book he'd been reading, his glasses, his alarm clock, and a half full glass of water. All appeared normal, as the moon shone through the open window, and yet Harry had a distinct feeling that something was happening outside Little Winging, and he was restless and eager to find out what.

He sighed deeply, reaching for his glass of water and draining it in a single swallow. He rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes, trying to force himself into sleep. He thought perhaps he should practice his Occlumency lessons, realizing that he actually found it enjoyable now that he had a handle on it, but the thought of traveling back to wherever Voldemort was currently hiding, kept him from attempting it. It wasn't that he was afraid, because he wasn't, he was just getting really tired of the pain that always seemed to rip his head apart whenever he made contact with his enemy.

Again Harry sighed, and again he flopped to his back. "This was ridiculous," he scolded himself, looking at the clock on his dresser and seeing that it was three in the morning. His frustration was quickly turning to anger. If he was back home at Hogwarts, he'd simply slip on his father's cloak and sneak down to the kitchens for a late night snack, but here...Harry opened his eyes. "What's to stop me", he thought. Uncle Vernon had stopped locking him in his room, when he realized it really didn't work, which meant that he was free to roam around the house at will. Gathering his invisibility cloak, taking up his wand, and covering his head with the cloak, he quietly slipped out the door, listening for a moment to make certain his relatives were sleeping.

The loud snoring from Uncle Vernon and Dudley sounded in unison, as if they were competing to see who could snore the loudest, while Aunt Petunia's soft horse-like whining echoed in the background. Harry curled his lip at the sound; thinking of how they could easily pass for the wild bores living in the Forbidden Forest back home. Assured his robust relatives were indeed asleep, Harry tiptoed down the stairs, avoiding making any noise as he quietly opened the door to the kitchen. Padding softly to the refrigerator, he pulled on the handle and peered within.

Harry was amazed how there could be so much food, when Dudley was home for the summer holidays, but oddly enough, there seemed to be a great deal more than there ever was. Harry gathered together a few easily concealed items; two chocolate éclairs, a large red apple, a pint of apple juice, a bag of carrots, and a piece of left over shepherd's pie that they had for dinner, and was about to return upstairs, when he heard footsteps echoing down the stairs. He was trapped, he thought in a slight panic, unable to find a place to hide. But then as the door opened, he realized he was still hidden beneath his father's old cloak, rendering him invisible. All he had to do was wait until the coast was clear and slip quietly out the door and back up to his own room.

With baited breath, Harry waited to see who was up at this hour. He wasn't all that surprised to see his aunt pad her big slipper-clad feet into the room. She looked around briefly, before going to the drawer by the sink and opening it. Instead of reaching inside it for a spoon or fork, she pulled the entire drawer out of the cabinet, setting it silently on the counter. She then reached inside the exposed hole, all the way to the back and pulled out a piece of cloth, then set down at the table near where Harry was standing and began to unroll it.

Harry almost gasped his surprise, tightening his grip on the spoils he had hidden within his arms, as he watched his aunt unroll a...wand! How could his Aunt Petunia, the same Aunt Petunia who despised and hated anything magical, have a wand? Did she even know how to use it? He got his answer almost immediately, as she waved it across the table and whispered something, he couldn't hear. Instantly the table filled with pastries of all sorts; there was a pumpkin pie, pumpkin cookies, chocolate cake with butter cream frosting, honey dukes lemon ice, chocolate frogs, cotton candy and pumpkin juice. He watched as his aunt eagerly began to devour the items before her, eating them as if she hadn't eaten in over a month's time...and with Dudley as a son, it wasn't all that surprising if she hadn't. He just couldn't believe his eyes. Within the span of ten minutes, his thin, horse-faced aunt had eaten the entire contents of her magically prepared picnic. He continued to watch as wiped her mouth, sitting back in her seat, and tossing the napkin aside.

A soft pop sounded on the other side of the table, and Harry watched his aunt stand up and look down, her hands on her bony hips. Her eyes narrowed as an object moved from the back of the table.

"It's about bloody time, you got here," she snarled in a silent whisper. "If you keep coming this late every night, someone is bound to see you, and then where will we be?" Harry moved gingerly so he could see what it was his aunt was scolding. On the other side of the table, near the sitting room doorway stood a small house elf. She was small, much smaller than Dobby had been, and seemed much shier. Harry frowned deeply at his aunt's profile.

"Misty's sorry Miss Petunia," the small voice squeaked. "Misty was afraid to come earlier, in case that big brut was up."

"I've told you before, you wretched creature, to keep your mouth shut when you speak of my son," Petunia growled, her tone slightly louder than it had originally been.

"Misty's sorry Miss, please don't beat her," the little house elf cringed in fear as Petunia walked around the table. He watched with narrowed eyes as Petunia raised her wand and pointed it at her. Just as she was about to curse the poor creature, footsteps above her creaked the ceiling. "Just you get busy and make certain this house is clean when I get back up, or I'll send you to the pits of hell." Petunia turned and stalked away, leaving the little creature alone to clean up her mess.

"Bad Miss Petunia," the little house elf said softly. "If not for Harry Potter, you would be dead. Dumbledore not smart, leaving you to watch over him. You're not good enough for the likes of Harry Potter." The little house elf began cleaning the mess left behind by the woman, as Harry silently slipped out the door, she had left open in her haste. He quietly slipped up the stairs and back into his room, again hearing the soft horse sounds coming from his aunt's bedroom.

"What's going on?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity. He dropped on to the bed, removing the cloak from around his shoulders and setting the forgotten goodies on the mattress beside him. How did his aunt, the only woman hateful enough to keep him brow beaten for so many years, be a...a...witch!? Just as Harry was about to begin pacing the floor, he heard the soft familiar hoot of his snowy owl, as she flew through the open window, and landed on his bed, next to his deposited supply of food from his late night raid of the kitchen.

"You've missed an interesting day, Hedwig," Harry told his owl, as she began picking at the sweets next to him. She glanced up at him questioningly, as Harry patted her white head gently. "Did you get the letter to Moody, all right?" He asked her, returning to her reason for not being with him all day. Hedwig hooted again, as if to confirm his question. Harry looked at her leg, noting the absence of a reply. Not surprising, he thought. Mad-Eye Moody wasn't exactly known for his manners. Still it would have been nice to know that he wasn't forgotten by the wizarding world, even if it was a simple note t say "hi, how you doing?"

Harry flung himself back on his bed, leaning against the wall and pulling his feet beneath him. He reached for the food Hedwig was eating, stuffing an entire éclair in his mouth in one simple bite. As he chewed, his thoughts returned to his aunt. He just couldn't understand how it was possible for her to know magic, and yet deny him to know about it for eleven whole years. Harry absently picked up an apple, biting into it and offering a piece to Hedwig, who took it and flew up to her cage, as she devoured it and then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. He watched his owl for quite awhile, before realizing he was finally tired. Retrieving a large piece of parchment from his trunk, Harry wrapped the remnants of his raid within it, rolling it snugly around the leftovers, and placing it in his hiding place under the bed, then laying down on the mattress, pulling his hands under his head.

Harry found himself drifting into a peaceful slumber, as the sun began to creep over the horizon. Morning would definitely hold a new meaning to him, when he awoke. He had decided to confront his aunt about her late night tricks, when he got a chance later on. With that out of the way, Harry found sleep to be a welcome friend.

Harry awoke some time later, to the sounds of Uncle Vernon stomping down the stairs. The aroma of breakfast drifted up to him, and he rubbed his eyes sleepily. Sitting up on the edge of his bed, Harry looked around him. The sun was high in the sky, and the clock on his desk read half past ten. Gathering his shoes, he'd kicked off last night and pulling them back across his feet, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, nearly falling to his face, as he tripped over the sweat pants he'd deposited on his messy floor the day before. For a brief moment, Harry thought he saw the small image of his aunt's house elf disappear from the bathroom doorway. Harry remembered how many times he had seen the little image when he was growing up, but passed it away, unaware of what a house elf was. Now he realized, he had seen her many times. Once he awoke as a very young child, a nightmare raking his tiny body. As he lay curled in the cupboard beneath the stairs, sobbing sadly, he remembered the little house elf shushing his sorrow, smoothing his hair back from his tiny face and drying his tears. He had always thought it was just a dream and for many long years held on to it, as a secret dream of love, the only love he'd ever known.

"Well guess what, Aunt Petunia," Harry thought with a wicked smile, climbing down the stairs to the kitchen. "Your secret is out."

Harry walked into the kitchen, ignoring the irritated looks from his aunt and uncle. Dudley barely noticed his joining them at the table, as he continued to shove eggs and bacon into his mouth, greedily. Harry reached across the table and took one of the last two eggs on the platter, then taking two slices of bacon and half a slice of toast, he began to eat, suddenly feeling ill at the amount of food his porkly-sized cousin was putting away.

"Slow down popkins," Aunt Petunia cooed at her son. "You'll make yourself sick, eating that fast."

"I have to hurry," Dudley said around his mouth of food, spitting remnant from his mouth onto the table as he spoke. "I'm meeting the guys and we're going to the movies."

"Do you need any money, son?" Uncle Vernon asked, immediately reaching for his wallet and retrieving several paper bills. Dudley nodded, accepting the money, before grabbing the last four slices of toast and heading up the stairs.

"It's so nice that he's such a popular boy," Aunt Petunia said with a sickly sweet smile, as she sat in the seat her son had just abandoned, wiping at the spilled food with her napkin. She looked up at Harry and narrowed her stare at him.

"You know Aunt Petunia," he said as he watched her wipe the mess left behind by her enormous son. "I don't think I've ever taken notice of what a really good housekeeper you are." Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both stopped and stared at him, wide eyed. They had never heard a compliment from him before, having never given him reason before now.

"Of course she's a good housekeeper, boy," Uncle Vernon smiled at his wife, who blushed softly. "She's the best in all of London."

"Oh Vernon," cooed his now embarrassed wife.

"I couldn't agree more," Harry continued with a false smile of appreciation. "I know in my world, people have a difficult time keeping house. Why, if it wasn't for the use of house elves, I doubt there would be many homes that would compare even by half to how clean this one is." Harry was delighted to see the shocked expression on his aunt's suddenly pale face as she looked up at him. Uncle Vernon, however, nearly choked on his coffee. Wiping at the spilled drops from his shirt, he turned a purple-faced glare to his nephew.

"What have I told you about mentioning those things, in this house?" he growled.

"I was just making a simple observation, is all," Harry commented, un-phased by his outburst, his eyes still locked on his aunt's horse-like features. "I think Aunt Petunia's life would be much simpler if she had a house elf to help her out around here, say at night when everyone's asleep. And just think of the meals she could prepare with the use of a wand." Uncle Vernon slammed his fat fist on the table to bring a halt to the conversation, as Aunt Petunia sputtered and reached for a glass of orange juice.

"Enough!" snarled Vernon, raising himself up on his enormous legs. "Go to your room, right now. As if your aunt would need the aid of such freakish things. How dare you insult her, like that, and in her very home? So help me boy, if it wasn't for her good-hearted kindness, you would be on the streets where you belong. Now get out of here, and go to your room. I don't want to see your face the rest of the day. And there will be no lunch for you, either."

Harry rose with a smirk, offering his aunt a brief look of acknowledgement. He was unaffected by his uncle's outburst, knowing that his aunt at least understood what he was talking about. He walked to his room, listening as his uncle's continued ranting about the boy's "indignity" and "rudeness". Opening his door, he peered in, taking notice immediately of the difference. His room had been cleaned; dusted and organized in the short time he had been gone. At first he thought he must have done it in the hours of sleepless pacing last night, but then remembered nearly tripping over his sweat pants when he left for breakfast. He closed the door and smiled around the small confines.

"You don't have to hide," he said to nobody present. "I know you're here. Misty, isn't it? Come out and talk with me." The soft rustle from his closet brought Harry's eyes toward the door as it pushed softly open. Harry smiled, sitting on the edge of his small, but neatly made bed.

"Hello," he said, his tone soft and friendly. "I remember you, from when I was a little boy. Come, sit and talk with me. I'm Harry."

"Misty knows who you are sir," she squeaked shyly, cautiously stepping toward him. "I have been with you for many years."

"Yes, I know. I remember several things now, which seemed odd once. But it had to be you. Who else would clean up after me? But why have you been hiding? Once I joined the wizarding world, you could have made yourself known to me."

"Misty was afraid, sir. Harry Potter is great, Misty was afraid he would be upset at her hiding from him."

"I'm not upset Misty. How long have you been hiding in my room?"

"Always, sir. I must keep an eye on Harry Potter, sir. He is my life." Just then a soft knock sounded at the door, and the little house elf disappeared in thin air. Harry turned a curious eye toward the door as his aunt pushed it opened. He had been expecting this, but not so soon perhaps. She stepped into the room, carrying a tray with sandwiches, fruit and juice, and sat it on the desk next to his bed.

"Vernon had to go take some papers to his work," she said awkwardly. "I thought perhaps you might be hungry. You didn't eat much breakfast."

"I never do, with Dudley around," he mumbled, ignoring the look of disapproval on the woman's face. "Thank you," he said after a moment of looking at her. With a soft smile curling his lips he added, "it makes my eyes misty to know how much you care." Petunia gasped, then nearly fell on the bed beside him.

"How...how long have you known?" she asked softly, her face turning much paler than normal. Harry leaned back on his bed and pulled his arms across his chest. He thought for a few minutes, before deciding to take the easy way out.

"Why don't you start by telling me how long you've been a witch and neglected to tell anyone? Does Vernon know?" Petunia gasped, placing her hand over her mouth.

"Heavens no! If he knew I could do...do..."

"Magic?" Harry supplied for her, hearing the gasp from the woman at the sound of the word. Petunia nodded, silently. "Did you go to Hogwarts as well as my mother?" Harry asked, watching as the woman began wringing her hands in her lap.

"No. I didn't know I could do any of that stuff, until she had...until she was gone. The night you were left here, I heard the doorbell ring. When I opened it, you were there. There was also a package with you. It had a note about what had happened to your parents, and a few of their belongings; their wedding rings," she said, reaching into the pocket on her apron and pulling out two gold objects and handing them to him. Harry eyed the rings with a sting of tears in his eyes. His mother's was a simple gold band attached to a beautiful gold and diamond solitaire, and his father's was just a thick band of gold. He closed his hands around them, feeling the warmth of his parents love radiating through him.

"What else was there," he asked softly, placing his father's ring on his left hand and pulling the shoelace from his old trainer and slipping his mother's ring around it before tying it around his neck.

"There was the usual, diapers, bottles, a few clothes, and wrapped up in piece of cloth was her wand. I was horrified at first. I was so afraid Vernon would find it, so I hid it. The day after you arrived, I was changing your diapers; disgusted that fate had left you with me, when that little creature appeared out of nowhere. She said she was your nanny, and she was there to protect you. I didn't want you, I didn't want any part of your kind in my home, so I allowed her to stay and care for you, so long as Vernon and Dudley never knew about her. After you grew older, I realized there was really no room for her here, and that if you knew of her existence, you'd ask questions and I was not going to have you turning into one of them, so I ordered her to leave. She said she couldn't, she was owned by you and only you could free her. So instead I told her if she stayed, she would have to clean the house at night when nobody was awake." Petunia took a deep breath and continued.

"One night, when I couldn't sleep, I remembered her wand. I took it out of the hiding place and just held it. It felt warm in my hands, and I remembered her using it the night she brought him home for dinner, to meet our parents. I remembered the words she used, so I decided to try it. I was amazed that I could make it work for me. I don't use it very often, just when I have to prepare something exceptional. It's not like I'm using magic or anything, I'm just repeating what she did. I would never commit myself to doing anything that would make me like her."

"I knew you were cold, but I never realized how heartless you could be," Harry said, eying the woman, noticing the slight jarring of his closet door.

"Heartless? You have no idea what I had to endure, because of my sister," Petunia shouted as she stood and began pacing the room. "She was always mother and father's favorite, the pretty, perfect Lily. She was the smartest, the sweetest, and the most polite. When she married that Potter, I knew there would be no end to raving from our parents. I hated her with every inch of my being. I didn't even cry when she died. I still don't when I think of her. She and that man got what they deserved."

"What they deserved?" Harry jumped from his bed, confronting his aunt with all the anger he hid within his soul. "They were murdered by a madman, who wants to control the world. I can hear her screams to save me, every night when I close my eyes. My parents died to protect me and to protect the likes of you."

"They didn't protect me," Petunia huffed. "I am not a part of that sort of life."

"Voldemort wants all muggles dead, and that includes you, Vernon and your precious robust Dudley. He wants to world to be returned to the control of the magical born, only. Death will be a reward to what he will make you feel before he kills you. He will cause you more pain and misery then you could ever imagine. If you think my parents deserved to die, think of what you deserve." Harry stepped around the woman, opening the door and holding it open for her. The look in his eye warned her not to tempt his anger further. Slowly she walked through the door, as Harry stopped her with his words.

"I want my mother's wand back, tonight," he announced, his tone filled with subdued anger. "It's not yours and you don't deserve it. Furthermore, I am taking Misty back to Hogwarts with me. Let's see how well you can manage without her." Harry watched the look of shock and disbelief cross his aunt's features as he shut the door in her face. He turned back to the closet and watched as Misty stepped cautiously out from her hiding place.

"Misty is so sorry, Harry Potter," she said, tears streaking down her face. "Misty had no idea how badly those horrible people had treated him."

"It's not your fault, Misty, it's Voldemort's. I hate him so badly, I want him dead."

"Please sir, you should not say such things. The dark Lord is very bad, he can hurt Harry Potter, even kill him."

"He's already hurt me, Misty. There's very little else he can do to me now."

"Did sir mean what he said to that horrid woman?" Misty asked, wringing the tail of her tea towel dress. "Is Harry Potter truly taking Misty back to school with him?" Harry smiled softly at the little creature, placing a warm hand on her tiny shoulder.

"Yes, Misty, I meant every word of it. You belong back with your own kind, and not here with these people. I just don't know how I'm going to explain you to Hermione."

"Harry Potter is ashamed of Misty," the little creature squeaked, a tear escaping her large green eyes. Harry instantly regretted his words, and reached out, lifting her chin and wiping her tears away.

"No, Misty, I'm not ashamed of you. It's just that my best friend thinks house elves should be free, and have rights. She's going to flip when she finds out I have you, and I haven't set you free."

"Please sir, Misty does not want to be free. Misty loves Harry Potter and she wants to stay with him forever."

"Don't worry Misty, even if you are free, you'll still be with me. My parents trusted my care to you, which means I trust you. Being free isn't such a bad thing you know? Dobby likes his freedom. He works at Hogwarts, and I'm sure Dumbledore will let you work there as well, if you'd like. That way, you'll have a place to live and still be near me."

"Misty will stay with Harry Potter, but she does not want to be free. Misty loves being Harry Potter's house elf."

"Well, just don't take offence to my friend's insistence that I set you free, all right. She's quite adamant about house elf rights."

"Harry Potter has some strange friends, sir," Misty said with a slight frown. Harry laughed openly for the fist time in weeks.

"That I have, Misty, but there are none more loyal or more worthy of having. I couldn't have survived the past five years without them."

"Then Harry Potter is very lucky."

"More then you'll ever know," Harry said, looking out the window, mentally counting the days until he could go back home and be with his friends.