Harry Potter and the Hidden Kingdom.

Ch.1 Discovery

*****************
Courage doesn't always roar, sometimes courage is that little voice at the end of the day that says 'I'll try again tomorrow'.
Mary Ann Radmacher
*****************

August 3rd, 1987

Oddly enough, the best thing that ever happened to Harry, happened because of the one of worst things.

One fine Summers morning, a few days after his seventh birthday, Harry was outside and at liberty, having been told that he had no chores for the day ("get out, and don't come back before sunset") when he suddenly found himself beset by Dudley and his friends who had recently invented the fine sport they called 'Harry Hunting'. Harry hated that game. They'd already caught him several times and beaten him black and blue, tearing his clothes and breaking his glasses. He'd been in so much trouble when he'd gotten home, for not taking care of the things they had so 'generously given him'. He hadn't been allowed to eat for two days over that one, and again the next few times Dudleys gang had caught him. Luckily this time he'd spotted them before they got too close, so he had a half a block lead, and he could run faster than they could, but he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning and he knew he'd tire quickly, so as he darted around a corner he kept his eyes open, looking for a good place to hide. A thick hedge, or an open gate or a... there! Perfect!

Throwing a quick glance behind him to check they hadn't turned the corner yet, Harry vaulted up onto the concrete rail of a small bridge, grabbed a convenient tree branch and scrambled nimbly down onto the tiny bank of the narrow, weed choked stream that ran under the road. A few more steps and he was under the bridge and safely hidden from sight. Less than a minute later, as he sat trying to catch his breath, he heard his hunters pound past overhead, not even slowing down. Good. He'd escaped.

Harry sat there a few minutes longer while his heart stopped racing and pondered his next move. He didn't particularly want to climb back up to the road yet. They'd probably double back and search for him once they realised they'd lost him. He glanced around the small space, barely two meters across and the width of the two lane street. His attention was caught by the thicket of blackberry brambles growing on the other side of the bridge and realised that, although it looked solid from above, it was actually formed more like a low arch which he could easily walk through, if he crouched a bit. With the vague thought that this could have some potential as a regular hiding spot, Harry decided to explore.

The blackberry thicket was long and dense, running the entire length of the houses on either side, Harry scrambled through the hollow, ducking around the occasional thorny cane, and eventually came to the end of the thicket, under the heavy shade of a fir tree. The brambles blocked the end of the tunnel, but the growth was sparse due to the lack of sunlight and Harry could see there was a clear area on the other side. After assessing the situation he gingerly threaded his way through, gaining only a few shallow scratches on the way.

Once out, he found himself in a narrow canyon-like space, with tall wooden fences on top of a high bank on either side and the little brook running deep down the centre, occasionally widening into small pools. The fence-line on his left didn't follow the stream exactly, instead making an odd zigzag pattern, stretching the width of the property beyond, and then zigging inward several meters leaving an empty triangle of land before the next property started and zagged out again. The ground was covered with long grass and weeds and small bushes and looked utterly wild. It was obvious nobody had been here for years. Harry smiled. Finders Keepers. He set out to explore his new kingdom.

/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\

As Harry lay down in his cupboard that night he considered what he had discovered that day. His little kingdom stretched nearly five hundred meters, following the course of the stream before coming up to another bridge. That bridge was sided with a high brick wall, too tall for anyone to look over, and from what he remembered the other side of the wall had a large bill-board on it. The stream passed through a metal grill and into a large concrete pipe, with no light on the other side. Nobody was going to be getting into his kingdom from that end.

About half-way along, one of the little triangles of land had had a huge pile of broken bricks and boards, cracked doors and broken windows, all obviously thrown over the fence from the property beyond. The broken windows didn't have much use, but the boards and bricks might be useful for something.

But by far the most interesting thing he had found was the large patch of strawberries eight houses along from the blackberry thicket. From what he could see they had spread out under the fence from a garden on the other side and run wild. There had been hundreds of berries there and once he'd convinced himself they were really real, he'd eaten them until he was almost sick! He'd never eaten a strawberry before today. He'd never even had strawberry flavoured milk. His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't approve of him eating nice things. In fact they didn't really approve of him eating anything at all. He rarely got more than one meal a day. A very small meal, and often he didn't even get that. But today he had eaten strawberries. Even more than that, in the same triangle there had been an apple tree hanging over the fence. He knew it was an apple tree because there had been apples growing on it. And he had eaten some of them too. So today he had eaten Strawberries and Apples... and that had got him thinking. That food had grown in his little kingdom, and there was a lot of empty land spread along the stream, so... what if he used it to grow more food? He knew how to grow things, he'd been looking after his Aunts garden since he was five. He knew how to build garden beds, and fertilise the soil, and plant seeds and seedlings, and look after them as they grow. As long as he could get there often enough he'd be able to look after it, and it wasn't very far off the route he usually walked to school, so once school started he'd be able to visit it every day... But where was he going to get the plants?

Carrots he could do, if he saved the heads when he chopped them up for the Dursleys dinner, he could put them in water and grow them from that like they'd done at school last year, and he once saw someone on a tv gardening show who grew tomatoes by slicing up a tomato and burying the slices, so maybe he could snatch a slice or two when he was making the salad... and in that same show the gardener had grown new plants by cutting little bits off bigger plants, dipping the stems in some powder and then sticking them in little pots! But he didn't know what the powder was. Maybe he could find out.

Well, he knew where he was going next time he was kicked out for the day. He was going to go to the public Library and find some books on growing your own food. Harry had a plan.

/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\

Three weeks later.

Harry emerged from the blackberry thicket and smiled as he gazed around his hidden kingdom, basking in a heady sense of accomplishment he'd never felt before. Already the place was looking rather different. Three of the little triangles of land now sported neat garden beds edged with broken bricks. It hadn't been easy, he'd had to resort to 'borrowing' certain items from his Uncle. That old shovel with the cracked handle, he'd spent a whole day slowly shifting it from hiding spot to spot until he finally had it positioned under the bushes near the front fence ready to be extracted the next time he was kicked out. He'd requisitioned the old deformed fork and trowel set that Dudley had deliberately bent by slamming the shed door on them, and then told Uncle Vernon that Harry had done it (he had no food for two days for that one). He'd taken Fertiliser, acquired one sand-pail at a time every time his chores included yard work, which he had already mixed into the freshly turned soil in preparation for planting. And, most importantly, thirty pounds in five pound notes, liberated from Dudleys overflowing piggy bank when Harry had been ordered to clean his cousins room, and smuggled out of the house in Harrys shoe. Harry was still feeling anxious about that. He didn't like the idea of stealing. It made him feel bad about himself, like maybe the nasty things the Dursleys said about him might be true after all. He'd already decided that he would pay it back when he could, so he hadn't really stolen it, he'd just borrowed it, like the shovel. He'd just have to think up some ways to earn his own money now that he had somewhere to hide it.

He'd spent some of that money yesterday morning. He'd gone to the little nursery, three blocks away, intending to buy some seeds to plant. According to the gardening books at the library early August wasn't the best time to be starting a vegetable garden, but there were still a few things he could plant. He'd intended to buy some seeds for cabbage, lettuce, radishes and spinach, and he had, but to his joy the nursery had also had a 'Sale' display of the 'unsold' seedlings from last month, all scraggly looking and too big for their pots, at only fifty pence a punnet! So, as well as his seeds, Harry was now the proud owner of twelve plants each of squash, zucchini, silverbeet, lettuce, chives and coriander. He'd carried them straight here, it had been difficult getting them down from the bridge without damaging them, he couldn't just drop them over the side like he did with the shovel, but he'd managed, despite having to loiter for several minutes while the street cleared so no one would see him, and now his garden beds had actual plants in them!

But today, with his garden taking shape, Harry had a new project he wanted to try. This morning he had once again hit the shops. At a run down second hand shop he had bought a large cooking pot, a dented ladle, a stirring spoon, cutting knife and vegetable peeler, along with a cheap tin plate, knife, fork and spoon. The lady at the shop counter had looked at his selection somewhat suspiciously, but for once his oversized clothes and skinny frame had worked in his favour and she'd given him the whole lot for three pounds. Once he'd dropped them off at his kingdom he'd headed out again, this time venturing into the supermarket his aunt always refused to go to because they sold 'such cheap and nasty brands and the horrible, tacky tramp at the register had purple hair!'. There he bought a large bag of sugar, three lemons and, after some internal debate and careful counting of money, a bag of self raising flour, a small tub of salt and a small bottle of vegetable oil. Finally he picked up a small bag of barbecue charcoal, paid, and left the supermarket, glancing thoughtfully at an elderly woman laden down with shopping bags as he passed her. Eyes glowing with anticipation he made his way back to his kingdom. Today, he was going to cook! For himself!

He walked past his gardens, smiling happily at his plants, and entered an area he'd carefully prepared over the last few days, following instructions found in an old camping book at the library. He'd cleared away a large circle of grass and dug a small shallow fire pit, barely thirty centimetres across and lined with yet more broken bricks, and into this he placed a big empty fruit tin he'd prepared the previous day, puncturing dozens of holes in the side of the tin using an old nail and a river rock as a hammer. Into the tin he tossed a dozen pieces of charcoal, along with a few scraps of wood and dried grass, which he carefully lit using a cigarette lighter he'd found under Dudleys bed (Harry had no idea why Dudley had a lighter but he had felt justified in taking it, if only to prevent Dudley from burning house down). Watching it carefully until he was sure the charcoal had caught, Harry picked up a bag of apples he'd picked earlier that morning, and, using a short broken plank, which he'd scrubbed and sanded the previous day, as a chopping board, he started to peel and chop the fruit, placing it in the pot at his feet. Once that was done he started on a bag of strawberries, also adding it to the pot. He then halved the lemons and used a spoon to scoop out the flesh, adding it to the mix. Harry fetched a few jars of water from the stream, pouring it over the fruit mix, after which he picked up the pot and carefully balanced it on the bricks of his fire pit, over his now very hot tin of charcoal. Finally he opened the bag of sugar and poured two thirds into the pot after which he settled down beside it and began to gently stir the mixture.

Two hours later Harry grinned with glee as he ladled the last of the hot mixture into one of the many clean jars he'd been retrieving from local rubbish bins ever since he'd read the recipe in the 'what to do with your crop once you've harvested it' section of a gardening book at the library. Twelve jars of Apple and Strawberry jam, cooling in front of him.

And more food growing in his garden.

Harrys grin grew wider as he stepped back over to the fire-pit and flipped the flat bread cooking on the battered old frying pan he'd spotted a neighbour throwing in her bin a few days ago.

He was NEVER going to go hungry ever again.

/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\

/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\

Authors note

Well, there we go. My first ever chapter in my first ever fanfic. Please be kind and review.

Please note, this fic is about an almost entirely self sufficient Harry. He won't be a super-rich, super genius, super powerful, Lord Potter-Griffindor-Merlin who could buy half the planet and spends his days sitting in a library reading ancient parseltongue books by Salazar Slytherin about fancy soul-binding rituals. Not that I mind those stories, but they've been done to death. My Harry will be a down to earth, practical, frugal, hard working, D.I. who will barely touch his vault because he simply doesn't need it for more than that years textbooks and potions ingredients. He considers it a waste of money to buy something if he can make it for himself. Thanks to the Dursleys he knows how to cook and clean, he knows how to run a garden and use a hammer. They raised him to be a handyman and he's using those skills to his advantage, and while he will eventually have luxuries (by his standards), they will mostly be luxuries he built with his own two hands.

I got my info about when to plant what from an English gardening website. If you disagree with what Harry grows, take it up with them.

Apple and Strawberry jam recipe was extrapolated from various jam recipes I looked up.

Basic Ingredients for flat bread is flour, baking powder, salt, oil and water
Mix the dry ingredients, form a well in the middle and slowly mix in oil and water until you have a firm dough, pull off a handful, slap it into a disk, lightly oil and flour the surface and then cook on a hotplate.

Harry decided to save money by using self raising flour instead of buying both plain flour and baking powder, so his flat bread will be slightly more cake-ish, but he's been cooking for the Dursleys since he was four, he knows what he's doing.