Harry Potter and the Dragon

XI

The Bright Side of Darkness

When Harry woke up, he had to rack his brains to remember where he was. When he did he got up, stretching his aching body. He didn't know how long he had slept, but surely it hadn't been much since the light in the room hadn't noticeably changed.

He painfully thought that since he had last got up from a bed, to have a midnight snack, his life had changed from boring to unbearable. He couldn't understand how destiny could keep on plaguing people like himself that way: first suffering a clumsy attempt of rape by a vain retard and then having to stay in that creepy house with that insane excuse for a monster. The boy spent some time in meditation, trying to find a way to challenge the imp who played the part of his guardian angel, and thus escape his present condition.

But the midnight snack he could never eat came back to his head, for his stomach roared angrily. "Shut up, you damn gut! Everybody's taken with yelling at me lately..."

Harry buoyantly came out of the room and started to walk down the corridor, thinking the kitchen had to be where all kitchens normally were, that is, on the ground floor. Yeah, like this is a very normal place...

Lupin the candlestick, who was supposedly guarding Harry's door, was instead having a very intimate conversation with a pink feather duster behind a curtain outside the boy's bedroom. At the sound of steps he peeped behind the cloth, and his somehow swollen flames paled. "NO! Master's going to kill him if he finds out! I have to go and warn him! He can't be walking around the manor like that!"

"He's such a cute boy! It's a pity that he's meant for Master. He doesn't deserve him," said the feather duster looking at Harry from the distance.

Lupin glared. "Go on, sweetheart, and keep on dusting. I have to go."

"Okay!" she answered happily, turning her pink feathers purple and jumping onto a table to work hard, as she liked, knocking one crystal vase and a couple of small statues in the dusting process.

Harry could move through the manor with relative ease due to the help of daylight. Lupin followed him cautiously, keeping his eyes on the boy and his ears attentive in case the dragon came closer. I hope he's sleeping, he surely is, the candlestick thought. Then, he decided to speak to Harry. "Hello, my dear friend! Are you in need of something?"

"What? Oh! A speaking candlestick!" Harry said in amazement, thinking he had undervalued the manor in the oddity scale.

"Well, yes. Is there something I can do for you? This is your home now; I'm at your service. My name's Lupin and I'm in charge of this manor."

"You're in charge? So what does the dragon do? Is he the house's pet?"

"Ha ha ha! No, he's the Master, I'm a servant, and you're our guest -"

"I'm no one's guest. I wanna leave this madhouse as soon as possible... No offense intended -" Harry smiled fearfully. He was so puzzled by all the events that it wouldn't have struck him as strange that the candlestick had jumped and started to spit boiling wax at him at that very moment.

"I can see you're confused, but there's something you have to know: Master's not a bad person... at the very, very, deepest bottom of his heart. He's suffered a lot, so you must be understanding -"

"Yeah, but then who understands me? I've been through the mill lately, and now I have to stay here, with that bastard -!"

"You'll get to know each other and everything will turn out fine," remarked Lupin in his obviously well rehearsed, teacher-like tone.

"Everything what? What do you mean that we'll get to know each other? Is there any other reason for me to stay here? A reason behind the obvious lunacy of that moronic gecko?" asked Harry with a mistrustful look in his eyes.

"Well," Lupin strove with all his might to keep his flames steady, "he's lonely. He needs a friend, someone to talk to -"

"Does he talk at all? I thought he only yelled -"

"As I told you, he's nice... once you get to know him. Listen, you didn't make it for breakfast, would you like to eat something? You must be hungry -"

"Oh, yeah! I was just looking for the kitchen! I'm so starved that I think I'll risk being thrown into a pit full of snakes for a decent meal... How can he be so stupid?" Harry laughed, recalling his last meeting with the dragon.

Lupin took Harry to the kitchen, where everybody but Filch the mop welcomed him with their most charming smile. He sat at the table while the teapot and her children cups made their best to assist him.

"There you are, boy!" said the grinning Mrs. Weasley, after having poured her specialty: toffee-scented tea.

"Thanks!" said Harry with a matching expression, feeling that everything wasn't that bad after all.

"Hey, what's your name?" said Harry's cup, the 'R' cup.

"Harry, and yours?" he answered, realizing that that was the first time someone in the manor had shown interest in knowing his name.

"It's Ron, pleased to meet you. What do you have there, on your forehead?" he asked.

"Ron! How many times do I have to tell you not to ask such questions to our guests!?" said Mrs. Weasley, while dragging a bowl of biscuits towards the boy.

"It's okay, I don't mind," Harry clarified. "It's a scar. But don't ask me how I got it, 'cause I have no clue - "

"Hi!" whispered shyly a blushing little coffee cup, which seemed heated but strangely wasn't holding any kind of boiling liquid.

"Hi!" said Harry.

"Hey! Is it true that you actually answered back to Master? That you insulted him? Snape told us!" a couple of twin cups, whose patterns were exactly the same, spoke excitedly.

"Well, why shouldn't I? He was being nasty..." Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, but he always is! It's really cool that you stood up to him!! I wish we could," said the 'G' cup.

"George, shut up!"

"But, mom! He broke Father! And our brother 'P'! That wasn't a big loss, though -" said the 'F' cup.

"Shut up you two! I won't tolerate you digging into topics that could lead us to speak ill of Master! We're bound to serve him after all, that's our mission in life and we shouldn't question it!" the teapot remarked steaming. Harry couldn't help feeling a little bit sorry for the tea set. Mrs. Weasley continued bellowing, but this time to a different object.

"Where are you going, Filch?!" she inquired rather hotly.

"It's nothing of your concern!" answered the mop, who had been silently sweeping out of the room.

"You are going to the dungeons, aren't you?!"

"There are floors to be cleaned down there! I have a lot to do, so please, keep on drooling tea and leave me alone!"

"So you think I don't know you're intending to go to Master with the story that this boy has come down to have breakfast? What? You don't want me to spill boiling water on your brush pet, do you?!"

"You wouldn't do that!" replied the mop, his eyes full of terror.

"Oh, yes! I'll do it if you snitch on us!" she snapped back.

"Please, I don't want to cause any problem," said Harry, feeling like an actual guest for the first time since he had arrived.

"Master Harry wants to take a tour around the manor with Dobby?" asked the wastebasket with a devoted expression.

"Oh, well, if it's okay..." said Harry, looking questioningly at Mrs. Weasley.

"It's alright, boy. This is your home now. You have to get to know it."

"Come with me, Dobby will show you the place, sir!" The wastebasket jumped away, apparently delighted with the task he had ahead.

Harry followed him outside the kitchen, doing little to hide a grin on his face that came from deep down in his soul. Maybe I'll get to like this place, after all.