"Oh Mum, look at the dog!" the little girl gasped, pointing at the large black dog that was shivering even in the heat and rummaging through the rubbish bin for something.

"It's so thin!" she cried. "Here, shaggy dog!"

The dog wagged its tail and jumped out of the bin towards the girl.

"Rennie!" An older woman tried to pull back the girl. She snatched the sandwich out of 'Rennie's' hands and threw it away from themselves to distract the dog before swinging up the girl into her arms and dashing out of the alley.

The dog barked a thank you to the girl and jumped onto the sandwich, transforming mid-air into a man. He bit into the sandwich, gobbling up the food, only to retch it all out. It was too rich for him. He wasn't used to such food, or much food for that matter, as yet. Or any food that was edible by humans.

"Oy! Who's there?" came a booming voice. "What are you doing, you filthy man?" It was a copper, his face all scrunched up in distaste. He looked at the naked man, retching uncontrollably and stopped. Who knew what disease the man had.

"What's wrong with you? Are you down with something?"

The mansat down against the rubbish bin, still dry heaving from his gut.

The copper peered in from a safe distance at the man. The man looked mad. The copper had come in because a lady had complained that there was a filthy, shaggy, big black dog here that looked dangerous. The copper had come in to check before calling the organization to trap stray animals. The dog was nowhere to be soon though.

All he could find was this man, naked as on the day he had been born, his scraggy frame covered in foul smelling grime. He almost looked feral.

"Where are your clothes?"

He looked familiar.

"Where are your clothes? Do you understand me?" He asked again, suspiciously.

The naked man suddenly looked up, all crazed desperation and deranged rage. The copper took a step back, his hand automatically going to his radio and the static came on.

"Keep your hands where I can see them!" he ordered, stepping back again when the naked man suddenly started to grope around in the dark.

"I have an insane man - feral probably - near Charing Cross - he looks very dangerous." The cop replied to repeated requests for communication on the radio.

The naked man was, meanwhile, completely disregarding the cop to grope around behind the huge trash can, - "he might have a weapon hidden next to the trashcan" - only to fish out a long shift and wear it even before the cop could react. Then, he turned around and gave the copper a huge grin and suddenly, the image clicked into place.

"The murderer- that escaped convict!" the copper croaked into the hiss of his radio, backing away slowly. "Hello? Anybody there? Escaped convict - Black, Sirius Black - seen at -ugghhh", he couldn't speak. The man was brandishing some stick and suddenly the constable just couldn't speak. He turned and started to run, only to trip, as if on an invisible wire and fell down on his face. His hand shot out in a punch the mument the convict tried to turn him but it was easily evaded by the man sitting on top of him now.

There was a weapon pointed at his face and gleaming, half-crazed eyes looked down at him.

"Shshhhhh….." the convict whispered, "I am not going to hurt you," he said. "I am a friend," he insisted when the cop kept struggling against him, pinning down his hands against his chest - his hands - why were they red? The constable struggled even more at their sight.

"Oh these?" the convict sounded amused, "just ketchup not blood!" He seemed to find it very funny before a dark look entered his eyes. "I need to find someone," he said in a gravelly voice, still studying the blood or ketchup on his fingers, "and I can not let you -"

The constable took advantage of his mumentary distraction and threw off the man. He started to run back into the main street, when he heard the murderer shout, "Obliviate!"

Something hit him at the back of his head and he fell face-down once again. When he opened his eyes again, he felt tired, hurt, confused, out of breath and extremely scared. His heart was pumping away in a frenzy. He had no idea why but something kept telling him to get out of the alley as soon as possible and he struggled up and ran out without a backward glance.

Sirius closed his eyes with a ragged breath and looked around. He had not wanted to obliviate the man. By this time, the wand's owner would have reported it stolen and would have had a trace put on it. Obliviate was a powerful enough spell to activate the trace. He had avoided doing any magic strong enough to activate the trace up until now after getting this wand but now he would have to find another one. He had already had to discard the one he had had after that night's duel with the aurors and - his blood boiled when he remembered - Snivellus! Oh, how he hated him and wished he had killed him. Still, at least he had been able to save Harry from him. The newspapers said that Harry was with the Ministry now and all he needed to do was get him out of there, which is why he was waiting there to get into the ministry and to the Minister.

ACL#############ACL###################ACL

"It's a nightmare, it's a nightmare, it's a nightmare!" Harry chanted to himself as he tried to snap out of the dungeon. It was swamped in darkness except for the eerily glowing form of Tom Riddle and the pale, supine figure of Ginny Weasley, her red hair mixing with the even redder blood. He could hear Ron screaming from somewhere beyond, "Ginny, Ginnnnyyy!" while Fawkes flew around in circles above, screeching and screeching.

His ears were still ringing with Tom Riddle's laughter, his forearm still throbbing with a phantom piercing pain when he startled awake, breathing harshly. The screeching, however, would not relent.

Suspended in the twilight between dream and reality, Harry tried to get away from the the flapping wings, the screeching and the pitch darkness, as something swooped down on him again and again. He wrestled out of the bedclothes and stumbled onto the floor when he was unable to find his glasses or the lamp on the bedside table. His shaky legs tripped over something on the floor and his flailing hand hit something that crashed onto the floor as he fell on … his trunk? The screeching went up a notch and panic threatened to burst his heart and suffocate his lungs at the same time. Wincing at the impact on his knees as well as the loud sound that was sure to wake up Uncle Vernon if the screeching hadn't already, he struggled to his feet again. He had no idea what he had just broken or why his trunk was on the floor next to the foot of the bed or why the hell it was so dark all around or why he could still hear the incessant screeching. He needed to switch the lights on.

He had taken only a step when something slammed open and light streamed in through a door … behind him? How - why was the door behind him?

"Quiet!" someone said in a furious almost-whisper.

"I said, stop this ruckus now!" The voice was still quiet but carried much more authority than his Uncle's booming voice ever had and thankfully, the screeching dwindled down to occasional grunts.

Harry tried to blink out his disorientation as his eyes grew accustomed to the light and a strange room loomed into his vision, an even stranger man standing at the door in a dressing gown. His brain started to fill up the gaps slowly. Not at home. Dumbledore's place. No, not there … Snape .. the train and the bus -

"Stay where you are," the man - Charles Deerborn, Harry's brain supplied- ordered as he surveyed the room - the shards of the lamp on the rug, Harry's half unpacked trunk - it's contents half in the trunk half lying around it, bed covers all topsy-turvy -

"What is going on here?"

Harry looked up with a deer-caught-in-the headlights expression on hearing those words, dripping with anger. Hedwig shifted nervously on his bed, making quiet little noises, as if unable to help herself.

Deerborn stepped inside the room looking irate. Harry could not control a slight flinch even as he stopped himself from taking a step back from the huge man but Deerborn himself stopped. Deerborn's forehead furrowed as he peered at Harry and Harry feet his cheeks heating up. He was acting like a scared little baby.

"I was thirsty," he said, his throat still dry from lingering fear.

Deerborn studied him for a brief second before swooping out a pair of slippers from somewhere.

"Wear those before walking." He threw the slippers to Harry and then completely disregarded Harry as he went to work on his bed. He shook out the bedsheets and covers, making Hedwig jump off in alarm, squeak cut mid way at a sharp glare from the man. He then straightened the bed sheet and tucked it with such speed that Harry was left gaping. Deerborn spread his arms to indicate that Harry should get into the bed.

"I am alright," Harry reiterated. Somehow, the idea of going into bed with a stranger in the room was not appealing, specially after that nightmare. His heart had slowed down from the full canter but it still was drumming.

"I have no wish to be taking you to the emergency room in the middle of the night when you step on the shards. Just sit on the bed. I will get water for you." And then, he was gone.

Harry sat down on the bed. He did not know why but suddenly, he was feeling quite helpless. He knew that he was being stupid. He had had a nightmare - that's all. But the darkness outside and the unfamiliarity of the house inside and being left alone with a stranger and the nightmare - he felt like he wanted to cry. Anxiety and fear were raging inside him.

Deerborn returned with a jug of water and a glass in one hand and a broom in the other. He poured a glass of water and handed it to Harry.

""Thank you, sir," he said. "I can do that, Sir," Harry spoke up, his voice still a little raw.

"I have no intention of spoiling a perfectly good rug as you bleed out on it. Don't worry, though. You will have a lot of cleaning to do in the morning," Deerborn sneered. "I had specifically asked you to finish all your unpacking and put away your trunk. You told me that you were already finished with it, and if I recall it correctly, told me so with quite an attitude that I had let go at that time." A muscle in his cheek ticked.

"I meant to but I fell asleep," Harry replied softly, gripping the bedsheet. Hedwig came up to him and lightly pecked his hand.

"Please, spare me of your lies," Deerborn said, finishing his second sweep around the room, putting all the collected glass shards into a little trash bag.

"I am sorry. I was halfway …" Harry swallowed, folding up on himself subconsciously.

"And your platitudes," Deerborn interrupted. He collected Harry's glass of water back from him and kept it on the desk near the window.

"What's wrong with your arm?" he suddenly asked, from where he was standing with his arms crossed.

"Uh?" Harry stopped rubbing his forearm immediately. He hadn't realised that he had been doing that.

"Roll back your sleeve."

"It's nothing."

"Let me be the judge of it." The man snatched Harry's arm and rolled back his sleeve in a sudden movement. The skin below was smooth and unmarred. Even Harry stared at it. Ofcourse, there had been no real pain. It had been just a ghost of a memory from his nightmare but it had seemed so real.

Deerborn, however, looked extremely fascinated as he slowly stroked a thumb over his skin, almost caressing it.

"I told you it is nothing," Harry snapped, snatching back his arm, creeped out by the man. Deerborn's hand almost followed Harry's when Harry shuffled away from him.

Deerborn startled, looking up questioningly and then blinked when he took in the wide eyes, pale skin and hands protectively holding a disgruntled and entirely unappreciative snowy owl. A smirk spread across his features.

"At least you have some self preservation," he commented cryptically, before he stepped back from the bed. "You should show it to a healer," he said in a dismissive manner.

"It's nothing," Harry reiterated strongly.

"Why were you rubbing it, then?" He asked returning Harry's half drunk glass of water back to him.

"A nervous habit, that is all." He kept his eyes trained on the man.

"A disobedient, unruly little liar, who is determined to disregard every bit of good advice. Oh, what a summer I am going to have! Keep this light on and drink your water." Deerborn turned on the lamp on the desk and left the room - or almost left it. He was at the door of the room when he turned back once again.

"You!" he said, glaring. Harry looked up, his courage finally having risen but Deerborn wasn't looking at him.

"In future, keep it down unless the house is under attack. I will not tolerate such ruckus again and will throw you out of the house. There are neighbours here and I have no wish to draw even more attention to your boy. Do you understand?"

Hedwig grunted in a disgruntled manner, shifting closer to Harry.

"I am going to turn these lights off but your desk lamp is still on, so it would not be too dark. Also, wear your slippers in the morning before getting out of the bed. I have no wish to take you to a doctor the first thing in the morning just because you were too stupid to follow simple instructions or use any common sense." Giving both Harry and Hedwig a final glare, the man closed the door with a soft thud.

Harry waited till his footsteps sounded far away and then immediately jumped out of the bed to lock the door. He slipped back into the bed and pulling the covers over himself, lay there looking at the ceiling. Hedwig fluffed herself up next to his neck and sat down, as if to sleep. Harry chuckled in a low volume before turning to Hedwig. Stroking her, he said, "You can't sleep there, silly. I can smother you in sleep."

Hedwig just made a noise and beaked at the pillow and the sheets, making a sort of nest for herself.

"When did you come in anyway?" Hedwig continued to pull at the sheets to fluff them up around her. "Thanks Hedwig, for waking me up from the "nightmare. I was in the..", he trailed off and when he did not say anything for some time, Hedwig pecked him gently.

"What do you think about the man? He is creepy, isn't he?" But Hedwig only butted her head against his cheek.

This was the fourth place in four weeks. He had been at Hogwarts on June 1st, then at Dursleys' for three weeks, then what Harry assumed was Dumbledore's house for three days and finally, this place. Snape had stayed only long enough to hand over Harry's 'medication-schedule. He had seemed to be in a hurry to lose Harry and leave and get on with his summer. Harry dearly wished that Dumbledore could have dropped him instead, though it was difficult to imagine him in Muggle clothes. He would have worn a garish purple suit with red trousers, his long beard flowing as he would have delightedly taken in the sounds and sights of the Muggle World, clapping in enthusiasm.

Who knew? Perhaps, Harry was underestimating Dumbledore. And it wasn't as if Dumbledore would have taken Harry with him instead of dropping him here in this unknown place where he knew no one. Harry felt tired but also strangely refreshed after the exchange with Deerborn - his courage had risen back up and he felt more in control of the situation now.

But Charles Deerborn! Well, there had been that fiasco with the computer ("a mouse?", "I know password sounds like a word to pass along or something that passes anyone but they are supposed to be secret - I saw you enter 5 stars as password - you should be more vigilant about it", "Right click in past is wrote click - I did that - sign him up for English language classes." etc etc ) when they had gone to register for summer classes (thank goodness, he would have to remain in Deerborn's company as little as possible). But apart from that, Deerborn had not seemed amiss for even a mument. He had seemed to know the Muggle world better than Harry, unlike any other wizard that Harry knew. Well, to be fair, Harry had only seen the Weasleys in the Muggle World but he could not picture any wizard as at ease with the Muggle World as Charles Deerborn was.

And yet, the ease with which he had talked to Hedwig clearly showed that the man was not a muggle. So, a squib sounded the best theory as yet. Harry had heard that animals were more receptive to squibs than to muggles and even wizards. He certainly was as testy as Filch.

"I hate this, you know. Why couldn't I stay at Leaky Cauldron? I am not a child anymore." He sighed before looking back at Hedwig.

"I am sorry if I scared you." Then, he laughed at Hedwig's antics, "No, you really cannot sleep there, Hedwig. What if I roll over on top of you in my sleep. Hedwig!" Hedwig had settled down and was now pretending to sleep, one eye closed as she looked at Harry with her other eye. "You are ridiculous, you know!" But he laughed and then put a pillow in between them to prevent himself from turning over onto Hedwig. Then pulling up the covers to his shoulder, he put a finger on her feathers to stroke him. "Let's sleep, then."

Gradually, he drifted off to sleep with Hedwig right beside him.

ACL#########################ACL#########################ACL

The single most irritating sound in the world screeched next to his ear incessantly, only getting louder and louder by the mument.

"Wake up, Terrence, it is already 7 in the morning and unlike your aunt, I have neither the time nor the inclination to wait upon you the entire day. Up, now."

"I am up," Harry replied, sitting- up in the bed, irritated.

"You are going to miss your swimming classes if you do not wake up right NOW."

7 a.m. … swimming classes! He really wanted to go for the classes, really, but he just as much wanted the sleep. 5 minutes more perhaps? Just 5 minutes. His eyes started to close once again.

"ALSO.."

Harry almost groaned, he would get up and get ready if the man would just leave him alone already.

"Since neither your Aunt nor your Uncle is here to do it for you, I expect the bed to have been made before you come down. If you are unable to make it down within 10 minutes, I would advise you to stay in the room for the rest of the day. And do wear your slippers before you get out of the bed."

Harry woke up feeling extremely irked. Well, he was not a stranger to being woken up early in the morning but he loathed it, really.

He washed up as soon as he could, dressed himself in a simple shirt. 10 minutes were already gone, so he hurriedly threw over the cover to hide the mess on the bed and proceeded downstairs. Dearborn - too long, Harry's sleep addled brains complained - Dearie? - yeah that's sweet and short, Harry giggled as the man looked up sharply at him from where he was sitting with another boy of about Harry's age, but taller at least by 4 inches.

"Come in, Aaron. Meet Daniel Patins. He is taking diving lessons this summer and has been really gracious to agree to take you along with him to the pool, at least today."

"Hi Daniel."

"Hi Aaron. Do you have your bag ready ?"

"Bag?"

"Yeah, your things - like the swimming trunks and a towel, swimming goggles?"

"Umm… Oh, of course, I will just go and get them in a jiffy."

He ran upstairs and taking out his school bag, emptied it on the bed and filled the bag with his trunks and a towel. He did not have any swimming goggles though. He rushed down just in time to hear Dearie apologising to Daniel for Harry making him late and expounding on Harry's lazy habits.

"I am here," Harry said stiffly.

"Oh good, let's go. We should try to get the 7:30 bus now - it is already 715. Goodbye Mr. Deerborn."

Harry just walked out. Dearie did not have to be ruining his reputation even before he made friends. This was exactly how Aunt Petunia behaved.

" Parents, huh?"

Harry was startled out of his thoughts. He had been too angry at Dearie and lost in his thoughts to say anything to Daniel.

"Umm…"

"You have no idea how my Mum can go on and on about anything and everything though I must say, I can wake up any time for diving lessons. I hope to enter the diving tournament at the end of next month and I need to practise as much as I can and summer is the best time to do that. The tournament would give me a good measure of whether I would make the school team in autumn."

"Oh! I am sorry for making you late," - Dan just waved away his apology, "and he is not my father."

"Oh?" Daniel looked unsure what else to say. "So he is your Uncle?"

Harry had no idea how else to explain the situation so he said, "Well, he is, like … , well, umm… my temporary guardian. My parents are dead and he is looking after me this summer. He is a relative of my Aunt, with whom I usually stay but they had to go off somewhere this summer."

"Ah, alright," Dan, as he insisted on being called, replied awkwardly.

Harry decided he should perhaps change the topic before Daniel went on more in that direction. " So.. you… umm… dive?"

Daniel laughed a short laugh and replied," Well, yeah. I mean I want to go into Olympics and all. I am 12 right now. I have had a little training but I need to train much much harder and this summer, I am going to concentrate on that."

Harry just nodded. He wished he could take quidditch lessons in summer.

"So, where do you go to school?" Daniel asked.

"It is a boarding school up in Scotland. What about you?"

"Oh, I go to a boarding as well. It is called Smeltings."

Harry almost fell. "Smeltings?"

"Yes, have you heard of it?"

Smeltings? That was not good. He could recognize Harry or even worse, he might be friends with Dudley. Harry really did not wish to be friends with anyone of the sort of Dudley.

"No, I had just heard the name. My Uncle was thinking of sending my cousin to that school but then they decided on some other school."

"Really? Smeltings is wicked, you know. It's really cool. We have the biggest pool and …"

Smeltings clearly was a safe topic on which Daniel could go on and on about so Harry let him. Daniel would occasionally ask Harry a question or two and Harry would improvise and answer. They were at the Bus stop soon.

"So, what's your school called?" Daniel asked.

"Umm… St Brutus," Harry replied. He had been conditioned into replying any queries with regards to his school with that name.

"I have not heard of it, but then, we only checked the schools in England and your school is in Scotland. How is it? Do you play sports?"

"Yes. I play …" , what? Play what? He should have said no but now he could not back out so Harry instead said," Well, I mean I like sports but I am not that good at any of them. I like football and well, cricket."

"Not Rugby? Rugby is big here. Well, football as well. We have got our own club in the town. My Dad's in the club and he wanted me to take it up but I like diving."

"Diving sounds interesting."

The bus had come and they were sitting in the bus now.

"It is," he replied with great gusto, "and well, you get to see some really sexy girls." He winked.

"Err.. right."

"There is this girl …"

Harry was at the swimming pool in no time, changed and ready at the pool side. Daniel had gone off to the other pool , where a diving instructor was talking to 3 of them. Every one around Harry pretty much knew swimming other than 2-3 kids who looked to be no more than 7 years old, learning at the shallow end.

"Hi, you are new here."

Harry turned back to take in the blue-est eyes he had ever seen.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi! I am Harr.. Aaron. Aaron Terrence," Harry bungled, blushing to trip over his own supposed name.

"Harron? like horrid Aaron.. or perhaps, hot Aaron?" She winked. "I am the instructor for the morning shift here, Jane Brine. So, you are new."

"Yes, well, I am new here and to swimming - I mean I don't know how to swim," Harry blushed again - he should have known swimming.

"Okay, so if today is your first class, I will teach you to float and breathe under the water and kick your feet. Come on, get into the pool. You can take a shower there before you get in and do a few stretching exercises. Then, come in." She left at that to go into the pool.

Harry's eyes remained glued to the way her hips flared out of her waist and the way her legs tapered down.

"Well, come on," she called, turning back.

Harry blushed again.

It was 9 when Harry reached home. He knocked on the door and Dearie opened it. He had a pinched look on his face.

"Downstairs for breakfast in 30 minutes and I want your entire room clean and the bed made up unless you are looking for a week of washing all window panes every single day at 7 in the morning instead of swimming classes."

Harry nodded and went up the stairs into his room and crashed onto the side of the bed that had some space. He had not learnt much beyond keeping his head under water and trying to paddle. But Jane - she was amazing. She was patient and sweet and knew swimming and had these gently rising breasts.

He muffled his face into the pillow, groaning.

"Are you in the shower yet?" Dearie shouted from kitchen.

Harry stuffed all the school things that he had dumped on his bed in the morning rush, into the cupboard and folded back the covers of his bed. By the time he got ready, it was 930 exactly. He went downstairs.

Dearie was no where to be seen so he went into the kitchen to find fried eggs and bacon with some grilled tomatoes on the stove with toast and a glass of milk. He took out his portions wondering if Dearie had already eaten or if he was supposed to leave some portion for Dearie because even though there was quite enough for two people in there, Harry felt that he was channeling Ron and could eat up everything. Nevertheless, he took half of everything and sat down, after helping himself to some marmalade as well. He made short work of it all. The man cooked quite well actually, if indeed he had been the one to cook. Harry kept his dish in the sink and picked up his bag, only to sit down once agin to lie his shoelaces. He wondered where Dearie was. Harry did not have the keys to the house so he could not go till Dearie showed up. Maybe, he should call out his name.

"I do hope that you were not planning to leave that glass of milk on the counter, Prince Aaron."

Harry jerked his head up, startled, and missed the dining table top by just a whisker. "Shit."

"Language! In future, should you wish to leave some food from breakfast, do be so responsible as to put them into containers and into the refrigerator. Also, do put your dishes in the dishwasher. "

"Sorry, I thought that it was yours."

When the man looked at him uncomprehendingly, he explained, "I mean I left half of the …. I mean I thought that you had not had your breakfast and so I …"

The man looked at Harry as if trying to judge if he was lying. "Drink your milk."

Harry grabbed his glass of milk.

"Also, I expect you to be up without needing a prompting every morning." The man said as he started packing the leftover food in a box. "Your bed should be made before you come down and all clothes off the floor, no dirty linen or clothes lying around - put them in the hamper I showed to you. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"You are supposed to be back by 3, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Here is some money for your lunch."

"Oh no, thank you but I do not need it sir."

"Why, do you intend to beg for food in the lunch time or bully someone into giving up his or her lunch box? Or, probably, you are going to charm someone into buy you your lunch?"

"What? No! I only meant.."

"I do not care what you meant. Take the money to buy your lunch or, you could go hungry. If I hear of any reports of you bullying anyone or stealing or any such thing, you would be very sorry."

"No, I was not going to steal or bully. I have never stolen food from anyone or bullied anyone."

"Of course not, your fame would have been enough to make all restaurant owners grovel at your feet to come in for free lunches and dinners so they could show off - the darling boy of the masses was dining with them."

"I have never - I do not need your charity or your money." Harry replied heatedly as he turned around sharply and left the house slamming the door behind him.

He had never taken any food from anyone by force. He had never bullied anyone. He knew all too well what bullying was, with Dudley, who had snatched his lunch box from him every time they got something really delicious from home, even though Aunt Petunia always gave Dudley much larger portions than Harry. If not Dudley, then Dudley's friends would do it.

And Aunt Petunia never gave any money to Harry. She would pool together both his and Dudley's money and give it to Dudley; and tell Harry to take his money from Dudley during the lunch. Oh, Harry had complanied again and again that Dudley never gave his money to him, while Dudley would play the innocent child being maligned. Sometimes, he would even say that Harry had magicked the money away from him. As a punishment, Aunt Petunia had started giving all money to Dudley and told Harry that if he was going to keep on lying, he did not deserve any treat.

And free lunches and dinners? Who in the wizarding world had ever given him free anything? He burnt up in indignation. 1 ice cream the first time he had been there with Hagrid. That was all. Oh he knew what this was about. Snape had come to drop him and had used the opportunity to make up all sorts of things to tell Dearie and turn him against Harry.

He did not even realise when he reached the school, fuming, lost as he was, in his thoughts.

ACL******************************************************************************ACL

It was a big school - much bigger than Harry's muggle primary school. Two big grounds, one for cricket, the other for football and rugby, basketball and netball courts and a gymnasium with a swimming pool. The office building was opposite to the expansive cycle stand.

Muggle school wasn't that bad without Dudley. There wasn't anyone to bully people away from him but the problem was that most people there already had little groups made up. They were from this town and went to school together or knew each other through mutual friends or such.

Harry went to sit in his first class - fifth grade Mathematics revised. Well, he had not done any Maths in the past couple of years. A girl with two pigtails came by and sat down next to him sometime halfway through the class. The cover on her notebook said - "Sally Perkins" in a cursive handwriting. She looked small like a first year at Hogwarts. She was chewing a bubble gum, blowing out bubbles at intervals, till the teacher, who herself looked like a seventh year, frowned at her. The girl just returned a grin that showed two dimples on her cheeks before proceeding to blow out the biggest bubble till then. She kept on blowing it till it finally burst, eliciting sniggers from all around. She then used her fingers to gather back all the gum from her face back into her mouth. Giving everyone another wide smile, she started with her chewing again.

The girl teaching them, Stacey, ignored her antics as she went on to present a nifty little equation to them that in the end showed that 0 = 1. She turned around and beamed at her class, "Now, isn't that like magic?"

Then she went on to start algebra having shown how cool it could be.

Sally pssted to Harry, "Do you want a gum?"

"No, thank you."

"So, who are you? You are new, clearly. I have not seen you before in the school."

"I just shifted here. I am here only for a month."

"Oh! How come? Where do you live? I don't remember seeing you in primary school either. Which one did you go to?"

"Umm.. I didn't go to school here. I am just visiting my cousin here and he is very busy so put me in the school."

"Your cousin is busy? How old is he?"

"Oh, he is very old. I mean he is an adult and is working. Quite old. I am here only for a month."

"Oook. So, you are visiting your cousin for a month and he is busy when he knew that you would be visiting for a month and that is why you are here. Oh, give it up! Your parents forced your Uncle to enroll you in summer school if you were to come here for a month, didn't they? Or, are you new to the town and your parents thought that you should get a feel of the school here?"

"No, really. I go to a boarding school and am here only for a month."

"I go to a boarding as well. I failed Maths", she shrugged. "So, the school told me that either I would have to stay back and go through it once again or I would have to do it again in the summer and take a test when I go back. So of course, I said that I would take it over here at home. I made a deal with my parents that I would attend this if they get me ballet classes. And here I am." She made a face at this.

"Oh, ok."

"So, are you still here only because your cousin is busy?" she asked wiggling both her eyebrows.

"Well, I am bad at it as well." Harry shrugged. Really, he had not had any Math last two years. Of course he was bad at it.

"Well then, you should listen to what I am saying," Stacey, their teacher, said, humphing in indignation. "Don't let her distract you, Aaron."

With that, she made a neat little turn, flipping her hair back and marched back to the front of the room, where she continued explaining how to solve an equation in algebra.

Sally sniggered softly. "Really, she can practise flipping back her hair all she wants but unless she does something about that hair, she has no hope."

"I heard that, Sally!"

"Well good! Then you should use the advice."

"You get home. I'm gonna tell mum how disruptive you are."

"See if I care."

"Well, this class is over. Try and complete 1 exercise and see if you come across any problems," Stacey said, marching out of the class indignantly.

The kids in the class high-fived Sally as they gathered around her and introduced themselves to Harry as well. They were all a bunch of kids though, mostly 12 year olds. Harry was the only almost 13 there. He felt almost ashamed to tell them his age so he kept to Dearie's story that he was 12.

"So, where do you live?" Sally asked as they started out of the class.

"Prospect lane, end of it. You?"

"Oh, I live near the Victoria Road. It's just off the Prospect lane. Do you have any other class now?"

Harry looked at the watch Dumbledore had given him. It was 10:20 a.m.

"I have Reading skills - Vocabulary at 10:30," he mumbled.

"Oooh," she winced in sympathy. "Good luck with that one. I have painting and clay modelling. It's fun," she said.

"Oh, you paint." Harry said.

"Yeah, a bit. I mean, well, I like it," she said shrugging again. "I will show you sometime if you are interested," she looked a bit shy.

Harry node, "Umm.. sure."

She smiled once again. "Ok, so what all are you enrolled for?"

"Maths on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays; Science for fun on Tuesdays and Thursdays; Spelling, Reading and Vocabulary and Writing on Mondays and Fridays; and I have drums lessons on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. That's all 10 am to 12 noon. Then, I also have computers on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"The drums one sounds cool. Are you any good?"

"I don't know. This is the first time I would be trying."

"Ok. Well, I will see you Wednesday then, I guess."

"Sure. Bye!"

Sally waved and ran off as Harry lugged to his Reading, vocabulary and english writing class. He did not meet anyone great there. They were doing a reading of some short stories there, on which the local school had to write a report.

At the end of his classes, Harry started back, reluctant to go back to the house he had left in the morning in such a rage. Deerie would be expecting an apology of course. He was getting off the bus when someone slapped him hard on his back.

"Aaron," Daniel was gasping for breath. "I have been calling out your name for so long. How were your first swimming classes? Where are you coming from?"

"Summer school. Maths and Reading."

"Oh, that's bad. Wanna come over to my place? Mum's a great cook. You can have lunch with us."

"I am not sure. Your mum-"

"Oh, she won't mind at all. Come on, I've got the Mortal Kombat. Have you seen it as yet? It's super cool - it's got these real characters, not the junky sketches from earlier. You can actually punch them while they are in the air! It's wicked cool. You have to try it! And once you win, you can just kill the guy!"

That sounded fantastic. Harry and seen Dudley play it but had never played it himself.

"Cool! But I have to go back to school actually. I have computers at 2 in the afternoon. How about in the evening?"

'Well, I have to go for my Dad's rugby match in the evening from around 6," he said, sounding disappointed. "Nevermind, we can go at it tomorrow. What do you need all these classes for? Just tell them you are doing fine."

Harry shrugged. "Can't. Must go to them."

"Ok then, you can come have lunch if you want."

"Umm, if you are sure that your mum won't mind."

"No, she won't. Come in. She would call Mr. Deerborn and let him know too."

ACL######################ACL#######################ACL

It was funny how everything always seemed better and brighter in daylight. Harry got into the house using his key.

"Hi," Harry ventured to Deerie, who was sitting in the drawing room poring over some papers and files.

"Good afternoon," Deerie replied slowly, taking off his gaze from the file that he had been reading and fixing it upon Harry.

"Umm… I am back," Harry hedged as he put his key in the bowl on the kitchen table.

"So you are." Deerborn replied and then fell silent as if struggling with something.

"How was school?" he asked finally, as if testing an odd new tune on his old violin and finding it extremely discordant.

"Well, English reading was a bit boring but otherwise it was good." When the man did not reply, Harry continued nervously, "Actually, Dan invited me over to his house tomorrow afternoon after class for video games."

Well, the man did not have any authority to stop Harry - he was not really his Uncle - but he could make Harry's life quite difficult if he refused. Not that Harry was going to listen.

"There are sandwiches in the oven and milk shake in the refrigerator though you did manage to charm your way into lunch, I hear. You are old enough to serve yourself, I hope." With that, he went back to his files, clearly dismissing Harry completely from his thoughts.

"Ofcourse sir," Harry replied, surprised at the complete lack of reaction to his plans with Dan.

Harry took his sandwiches and milk shake and sat down at the kitchen table to have his food. He had had lunch earlier in the afternoon at Dan's place but had got hungry again. Once done, he arranged everything in the dishwasher and went upstairs to his room to complete the assignments he had been given in Maths and Science.

He had had enough experience on how to keep himself entertained in his room to need to go downstairs for long hours. It wasn't until 8 at night when he found his tummy rumbling that he quietly went downstairs to find Dearie - still in the same position as before, just with far more papers and files around him. Not wanting to disturb him, Harry continued to the kitchen and decided to start dinner himself. He cleaned a few mushrooms to make a mushroom soup with some bread.

"What are you doing?"

He almost sliced his finger instead of the mushrooms on his chopping board. "I thought to start a mushroom soup for dinner," he replied with as much confidence as he could muster.

"In future, if you are hungry, let me know."

"You looked busy and I did not wish to bother you."

"By playing with sharp instruments?"

"Oh, that! No, it's alright," Harry said trying to sound casual and ignore the annoyance lacing Deerie's words. "I am used to slicing and cutting things. We have a subject at school that needs us to slice and cut all the time."

The man looked at Harry sideways as he took the knife from his hand and started slicing the mushrooms. "And I can see how good you must be at the subject," Deerie replied, curling his lip at the mushrooms that Harry had sliced.

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. "I was just trying to help."

"By attempting to walk on shards of glass in the dead of night after waking up the entire neighbourhood by your screeching owl? Or, by chopping off your fingers with a knife? You might wish to obey what you are told to do rather than engaging in futile endeavors to use brains that you clearly do not possess."

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if to calm himself.

"Pop a few slices of bread in the oven. There's a can of beans in that cupboard over there. You can have some beans on the toast while you wait for the dinner." He had already finished slicing the mushrooms and the onions.

"It's alright. I am not that hungry," Harry answered tightly.

Deerie turned around sharply and looked at Harry with such a look of loathing that Harry almost stepped back.

"I should have known. Disobedience seems to be least of your vices. Your aunt might have pandered to your moods but I shall not stand for such behaviour. Perhaps, a night without dinner might just teach you a little humility and gratefulness, though I would not hold my breath on it. Or, perhaps you want to run to Mrs. Patins begging for dinner with your sob stories."

This was exactly like Marge. She had been going on and on about how Harry should be grateful to his Aunt and Uncle. Did he not weed the garden, did he not help his Aunt with washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen and the house? All he had been doing here had been making a dinner for himself and Deerie because Deerie looked busy in his work. How was that ungrateful and disobedient? He had had a nightmare at night - it was not as if he had been trying to create a ruckus and break the vases.

"I did not run to her to beg for food or complain or anything. Dan wanted to play Mortal Kombat - that's a video game- and his Mum asked me for lunch. Also, I did not ask to be taken in by you. I am sorry that I broke the vase last night. I would replace it as soon as possible, if you would tell me where you bought it from or its price."

"Indeed, and that would surely make your disobedience absolutely alright? So, you go ahead and disobey everything you are told and do it again and again and when it comes to the consequences, show your wealth and try to buy your way out using your fame and money, neither of which, by the way, has been your earnings - both an inheritance from your parents. How very generous of you.

Your cooking dinner is not a show of gratefulness, it is a show of willfulness. If you wanted to show gratefulness, all you needed to do was to clean your room before going to sleep last night. You fell asleep, excusable the first time. But I believe I had asked you to not leave a mess in your room when you left for school and yet, there were a pair trousers on the floor, underwear and swimming trunks left in the bathroom and a wet towel on the bed; all your books had been emptied in the cupboard. Perhaps, you would like to pay me now to clean up after you?

There are homeless people who go days without food on the street; there are hard working people in this world who do not have money enough to buy three meals a day. There are students studying in universities with part time jobs that earn them only enough money to pay for their classes and live on one meal a day, and they still manage to do well in their classes. There are students who have one set of clothes that they must wear through the week and then clean them on weekends and not even every weekend just so they can make them last for the entire year.

You have all of this in your lap and all you are asked in return is to do your school work with the best of your ability, keep your room clean and be polite. Ah, but why should you do this when you have a vault full of money left behind for you?"

It was 2 in the morning when Harry finally gave in to his grumbling stomach and crept down to the kitchen to take a glass of milk. When he opened the fridge, he saw a large serving bowl full of soup and and another bowl full of vegetables. He contemplated for a mument before taking it out and serving a bowl of soup to himself.

He warmed it up in the microwave and was looking for a spoon when the lights were switched on. He turned around in a frenzy and saw Deerie standing at the kitchen entrance, looking extremely put-out and ready to burst into another spiel. However, Deerie did not say anything. He just came in and pushed Harry into a chair at the kitchen table and got out a couple of slices of bread and the vegetables. He toasted the breads up with butter and putting them in a plate along with the vegetables, he kept the plate in front of Harry. Harry was still frozen in his place when Deerie put a glass of milk alongside his plate and left the room as silently as he had come in.

Harry slowly started on his dinner, feeling miserable all the time. He wished he had never come down. It was not like it was the first time he would have gone without dinner in his life. All he had needed to do was to go to sleep but he had been too angry to sleep, coming up with all the biting rejoinders that he could have given to Deerie. He strained his ears to hear for Deerie, however, he did not hear a sound. Once done with his dinner, he quietly put the cutlery into the dishwasher and started to pad up to his room. It was then that he noticed that Deerie was still seated in the same chair in the drawing room, with the same files as before, spread all around him.

Harry wanted to say Thankyou to him, or perhaps, Goodnight, or something but he had no idea how to even start. He looked down at his toe with which he had been scruffing the carpet.

"I believe you have a swimming lesson in the morning." Harry looked up at the sudden interjection. Deerie was still immersed in his files. "Go to sleep. I am not going to wake you up again this time just because you decided to throw a tantrum so make an attempt to wake up on time. Good night."

Harry nodded to himself before turning back and treading back to his room.

#################################

True to his word, Deerie did not wake Harry up for his swimming lessons the next day. Later that afternoon when he went to Dan's place for Mario, Dan told him, hesitating and not sure how to put it that Deerie had told him that Harry was still asleep from a late night crying-spell - missing his family. Harry had gone red in his face and felt his dislike of Deerie make a full fledged return. Harry had just mumbled something about a pet.

He had confronted Deerie about the entire thing later in the evening but all he had got was a raised eyebrow and a suggestion that perhaps, he ought to wake up earlier so that Deerie did not have to make up excuses for him. Harry had woken up 30 minutes beforehand every day since and had been waiting on his porch for Dan to exit his house across the street.

School was a bit difficult with all the classes that Harry had not had for the past 2 years. Drums, on the other hand, turned out to be very interesting and the teacher had been quite impressed with Harry's progress. He had also met a lot of kids there, who had small bands. The teacher would plan small "jamming sessions" each Friday after randomly creating groups out of the music students there. After the initial couple of weeks, the team members did not look too upset about having Harry in their team as opposed to the better drum-players so that was some progress.

Sally had started to join in with Dan and Harry for their Mario-sessions every afternoon. It was during one of these sessions that she suggested that they go, hang out at the pool. Harry could swim freestyle decently by the end of the first week. Since then they had started to divide their time between the pool and Dan's house. Harry loved being at the pool whenever Jane Brine was there. Sally and Dan didn't miss a chance to rib Harry about it but Harry didn't care. He was sure that he was in love.

"You need to take in a big mouthful of air and then exhale slowly while your head is under water."

She tried to help Harry by adjusting his body on the side of the pool. They were practising breathing technique on ground before going into water. Jane turned Harry's face slightly to show him how to gulp in the air. Harry was starting to go warm and tingly and then someone wolf whistled. He was sure that he had turned the deepest shade of red he could. And he was sure that he would drown Sally in this same pool once he knew how to swim better than Sally. He couldn't even look up till he heard the tinkling sound of Jane's laughter. Oh! She was beautiful. Her eyes twinkling, her head thrown back in a laughter and her pearly white even teeth on full display.

Harry was mesmerized. He would make it a mission to make her laugh like this as many times as he could. Then she looked down at Harry, still smiling, and Harry again blushed. Well, the first mission would be to look up and talk to her.

Dan would later guffaw at Harry and Sally would make her comments - and Sally's comments! Dan had declared that Sally must be short for salacious. It was a torture but Harry sometimes thought that he lived to see her. All of Sally's comments and all of Dan's smirks and guffaws couldn't take away the muments when she bestowed a smile on Harry when he mastered some technique. She kept saying that he was a natural and if he grew taller, he might become a very good swimmer.

"That's just a cheap motivational trick!" Sally said later as Harry was telling his friends about it.

"Don't get so good and natural that she doesn't feel the need to correct your stance, Aaron!" Dan said. "Oh! hands like this", he simpered in a falsetto raising Harry's arm above, "face turned just so."

Harry swatted off Dan's hands and pushed him back onto the couch next to Sally.

"Oh! Jane, please help me!" Sally took on Harry's role. "I am drowning. I don't know how to breathe!" She started clasping her neck as if she were choking.

Harry pushed her off the sofa and she fell onto the carpet flailing as if she were drowning.

"Oh Aarrooonn! You can breathe! You are such a natural!" Dan chimed in, in his falsetto, leaning in, as if to give Harry a kiss. Harry jumped off the couch as both of his friends rolled around laughing. He pushed Dan off the sofa as well and launched all the five cushions on the sofa at them both. Probably, this is why Dan's mum kept so many cushions. To throw them at Dan when he was being such an arsehole.

"Hilarious!" Harry said and jumped on the top of them both to shut them up but they quickly regrouped and soon, Harry was pinned under Dan while Sally was collecting all the cushions into a pile. Her face shone with glee on it as she rubbed her hands, ready to launch the cushions back at Harry full on-face as Dan held him down.

"Sally, don't you dare!" said Harry.

She pretended to think about it and then made a great show of slowly picking up a cushion, fluffing it up. She sighed," It gives me no pleasure, but for the greater good!" and pat came the first cushion - smacking Harry right into the face.

This was war! Harry bucked almost sending Dan reeling as Sally dramatically inspected her nails.

"Sally, stop being so dramatic! I can't hold him forever!" Dan cried, exasperated.

"Oh very well!"

And she launched the second one but Harry took that moment to duck and struggle and get Dan off of him and pin him down successfully. Sally was still standing just out of reach, with her third cushion in hand, eyebrows raised.

"It's all the same to me!" she said and launched another two at Dan and the third one at Harry once again before running out laughing and shrieking like a banshee with both, Harry and Dan, on her pursuit.

ACL#################################ACL