Harry felt alone without his journal to write in. Somewhere on the train his father held it in his hands, probably reading it, discovering his son through the words that had spilled directly from his soul onto the page through his years at Hogwarts.

"Harry, where do we write to you at?"

He lifted his head from the cool glass and looked at Ron across the compartment. "Here," he said, and dug a piece of parchment from his pocket, handing it to him. It had the address to Prince Manor on it, though Harry had no idea where it was or what it was like.

"Ireland, blimy Harry! Mum will never let me come to see you all the way out there."

Harry scratched his nose. He hoped Ron and Hermione would be able to come and see him. Draco had already promised to visit, but Harry didn't know how often and he wasn't certain that Kenai would want to spend a lot of time with him during the summer when he had his own friends to hang out with.

"You can always build a flying car Ron," Ginny said then from beside her brother with a grin.

"Or we can tame the Ford Anglia," Harry said with a little smile of his own. The twins had nearly been expelled for traipsing into the Forbidden Forrest last month and trying to tame it. It appeared that the Weasley's old car had picked up a few new tricks and could now breath fire out of its engine if agitated, and they'd caught Hagrid's hut on fire in the middle of the night.

"Right," Ron said. "Mum would have my hide. You saw the howlers she sent to Fred and George the next day. One right after another after another."

"Are you trying to get expelled right before you graduate?" Ginny mimicked her mother and Harry and Ron laughed. Harry loved the Weasley's dearly, and even though he was facing the prospect for the first time in his life of going home to his father's house, he pinned to go home with his friends instead.

"Do you think it will be horrible?" Ron asked Harry then seriously. "Living with them I mean?" Harry shrugged. His friends had expressed their concerns about him going with Kenai and Professor Snape at the end of the summer, knowing what pain they had caused him.

"They've been ok," Harry said. It was true. They had given him two dozen Christmas presents, his father had put his life on the line to help Harry defeat Voldemort, and after that... well after that Harry had given him the journal and then set to distancing himself so he could have time to think over everything that had happened. It was a lot to wrap his mind around, and his father seemed to understand. He had spent time with Kenai off and on throughout the rest of the school year, Draco often acting as a buffer between them, but Harry had only been to his father's office a handful of times sine giving him the journal. Now he faced an entire summer in a house alone with them.

Harry went back to looking out the window as they entered the outskirts of London. How much of the journal had his father read? What did he think of Harry's emotions? It felt very unfair to Harry that his emotions were so out in the open and his father might already know so much about him, but Harry still knew very little about the man.

"We'll try to visit," Ron said then trying to reassure Harry in a serious tone. "I'll convince mum or else get Fred and George to smuggle me out."

"I'm sure it'll be ok," Harry said, trying to reassure himself. "Maybe Hermione can come too."

Harry turned to look out the compartment window then, wondering where she was. She'd disappeared half an hour ago and hadn't come back.

"Will Draco come to visit?" Ginny asked him.

Harry shrugged again. "I guess. He said he didn't want to be at home because his mother said Aurors have been there almost every day looking for Lucius, setting traps for him, and looking for illegal possessions. He said they even went through his room."

"But you're definitely allowed to have friends over, right?"

Harry nodded to Ron's serious question. "Kenai said he's always been allowed."

The train began to slow then and Hermione finally came back into their compartment.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked.

"In the next compartment. Fred and George are there laying out plans for their shop and wanted my opinion on their business plan."

"You're helping with the joke shop?" Ron asked, brows raised. They all knew that Hermione didn't approve of their skivving snack boxes and other devices aimed at skipping school or getting out of punishments.

"I was helping with a hypothetical business plan," she said with her hands on her hips. "And I was interested in these." She held her hand out then and Ron and Harry were surprised to see several candies there in her hands.

"Skivs?"

"No, these are new. They change your appearance for a short time so you can go out in public unnoticed. I thought with the death eaters running loose, they might come in handy." She gave one each to Ron, Ginny, and Harry, keeping one for herself. "For emergencies, not for skivving," she clarified then, and Ron frowned before stuffing his into his pocket.

"Thanks," Harry said. He wondered just how it would make him look different, and wondered what would happen if he took it at Prince Manor.

As they stood talking, the train finally came to a stop, and the corridors began filling with students and their pets.

"This is it then," Ron said, staring at Harry and not bothering to go out into the noisy, chaotic hall.

"Yup," Harry said, looking out the window where he spotted Kenai, one of the first to disembark from the train.

"You can write or call if you need us." Ron put his hand on his friend's shoulder and Harry nodded.

"It'll be ok," he said, trying to reassure himself again. Ron seemed to notice.

"You'll be fine Harry," Ginny said. "Or else we'll break you out with a flying car." She nudged them and he turned red then from her touch.

"You come visit too, k Gin?"

Ron made a face as they kissed quickly then and they headed out into the throng of students.

Having made their goodbyes on the train, Harry separated from his friends as soon as they stepped onto the platform, feeling alone suddenly and completely as he made his way towards his father and brother, who stood off by themselves against a wall.

"Ready?" Kenai asked, looking ready to be done with anything that had to do with school.

"Yeah," Harry said, holding onto the shoulder strap of his backpack with one hand.

Severus gripped the shoulders of his two sons then and they were gone in a flash, the last thing Harry saw being Ron staring at him from across the platform with a much too serious look on his face. It was funny, Harry thought, as they reappeared on a gravel drive in front of a three story tan mansion on an excessively large plot of land. He was usually the one that people looked up to to know what to do, being the slayer of Voldemort and downbringer of the death eaters, but Ron was the serious one who had always looked out for him and Hermione and Ginny. They all looked out for each other, but Ron was so serious about it. Harry had no doubt that his friend would become an auror one day, though Harry was no longer sure what he wanted to be.

"What do you think Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry was pulled from his thoughts by Kenai's question. He looked over at his brother and then up at the mansion in the bright daylight. ‘I think I would have liked to have lived here all my life instead of in a cupboard under the stairs,' he thought to himself, but refused to say out loud.

"It's great," Harry said.

Kenai lead off up the stone steps to the massive front door, and Harry followed, being uncomfortable being left behind with his father.

"Come on, I'll show you my room," Kenai said when they were inside. He ran off up a wide spiraling white staircase in the massive entryway, but their father called out for him to wait and Kenai paused halfway up the stairs.

Severus turned to face Harry. "There are 32 rooms here. Mine is on the third floor and Kenai's is on the second. You may choose any other room in the Manor, though I prefer you choose one that is above the ground floor."

"What's below the ground floor?" Harry asked, feeling stupid.

"Servant's quarters," Severus said seriously, and Harry felt uncomfortable then and knew that his father must have read the entries where Harry expressed how much he disliked being treated like a house elf by his relatives.

"Ok," Harry said.

"After you've chosen a room, you may decorate it. Kenai will show you how."

Harry nodded and then went up the stairs after his brother. Kenai's room it turned out overlooked a small garden on the East side of the home. It was round and massive and had its own bathroom and walk-in closet, and the King sized bed looked small and insignificant there in the middle of the room. There were a variety of Slytherin and Quidditch posters and banners up on the walls, and several large framed pictures of Kenai and his father and mother, and Kenai and his friends. There was a large desk, a rack with three racing brooms, a couch and plush chair with a blanket over it, and several Muggle musical instruments.

"You play music?" Harry asked.

"Dad hires tutors every summer. I haven't played any of those in a long time though."

"Tutors?"

"Yeah. You have to pick two subjects... anything you want, and he brings in tutors for a couple hours each morning."

"Like summer school?"

"Yeah, only it's not. You don't have to sit in a classroom or anything. When I took guitar lessons we always went out into the woods, and when he made me take Ancient History the tutor always took me out to study under one of the big willow trees."

"So you don't always get to choose."

"Well, that was punishment because I got so many detentions one year and because I fell behind in Binn's class."

"Oh," Harry said. If he was to be given a choice of topics, he had no idea what he'd like to study, aside from maybe that he'd like to learn more about the elves. Ever since he'd learned he had a small amount of elven blood from his mother's side, he'd wondered about where elves lived and what they could do. Draco knew a little, but not much.

"What will you take?" Harry asked, and Kenai shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe take up guitar again. Won't have to choose for a few days. Here." He reached down and picked up a book from his desk and tossed it to Harry.

"It's a book of wizarding and Muggle professions, and it lists what skills you need to have. You can get ideas from there."

Kenai began pulling things out of his trunk then, which had just appeared in his room, and Harry looked around for his.

"When you pick a room, he'll send your trunk up too," Kenai said.

"Oh, yeah, that." Harry turned, feeling uncomfortable in the large room, and then said, "Guess I'll go have a look around then."

He left Kenai to his unpacking and went back into the hall. He felt like he was poking around somebody else's house, or sneaking where he shouldn't be. After all, for all of these years it hadn't been his home, it had been Kenai's, and it almost felt like he was wandering around in an enemy's base.

Harry walked down the hall and began opening doors, looking into each room and then carefully closing the door again. Some of the rooms were larger, some were smaller. Many of them had beds in them, and some even had bunk beds, and others appeared to be studies, dens, and small libraries. There was even a room filled with old statues and other junk covered in cobwebs.

Eventually he ventured up to the third floor to look at rooms there, most of which were smaller and cozier, and then down to the first floor, where there were only a few bedrooms, and where the rest of the rooms seemed to be for living or entertaining.

After nearly forty minutes of just looking into different rooms, Harry finally went back up to the west side of the third floor and picked a room with bunk beds up against a window. He didn't know why he liked this room better than the others, aside from the fact maybe that it was smaller. He also thought that Ron or Draco could stay with him there since there were bunk beds. The room was only half the size of Kenai's, though it still had its own small bathroom, and a small walk-in closet. There was a desk, and a large plush chair like Kenai's, though there was no couch or rack full of racing brooms. The ceiling was also lower in this room, and it felt more secure to Harry than the other large rooms. He also liked that it looked out over a large lawn area, a field, and on the other side, a gnarly looking forest.

"Guess this is it," Harry said, and a moment later, his trunk appeared behind him on the floor, full of the new clothes he'd received for Christmas.

Harry began unpacking and putting his things away in the closet. He left his broom out and leaning against a wall, wanting to be able to look at it since he had nothing else to decorate with, and pulled out the few pictures he had of himself and his friends, and set them on the desk.

Finally having a place to empty his trunk after all of these years, Harry removed all of the schoolbooks from previous years and put them up on the top shelf in his closet, and then put Hedwig's treats in a desk drawer, along with his other school supplies.

Harry wondered briefly what to do with all of the copies of the Daily Prophet he'd kept that had been written about him, both good and bad, before deciding to put them back in his trunk because he didn't want to look at them or come across them on accident. He didn't like to know what others thought of him unless it was his friends or... his family.

Having nothing else to do after he'd unpacked and feeling uncertain about venturing back out to the rest of the house, Harry lay on the empty bottom bunk and looked through the book Kenai had lent to him. There were professions he'd never even thought of, some of them Ministry and some of them with private wizarding companies. Most of them were uninteresting to him, but he began making a mental list of all of the skills he thought he'd like to learn. The thought of being able to play a musical instrument kept crossing his mind as well, and he quite liked the thought of learning guitar. Harry pulled out a quill and parchment and began writing his list down. By the time he was done there were more than forty items. He began rating them with hash marks to narrow down his choices. Maybe if he were allowed to stay, then next summer he could choose the next skills on the list and be trained in those as well.

Finally Harry narrowed his list down to four things and then scratched Elven Magic at the top. Beneath that was: Guitar, Violin, Drawing, and Healing. He knew for sure he wanted to learn Elven magic, and he knew that with his track record that healing would be the smart thing to learn, but he couldn't bring himself to cross out the other things. Dudley had always been involved in extracurricular activities in the summer and at school, and he had all kinds of chances to learn things like this. Harry wanted to learn them all. He was sorely tempted to add things from his longer list to this shorter one, but refrained, even at the thought of being able to take extra flying and Quidditch lessons from someone possibly more skilled in the subject.

It was growing dark outside before anyone came to find Harry, and he startled as he lay on the bottom bunk when his father cleared his throat at the door.

Harry looked over and sat up. "Did I do something wrong?" He was worried, and didn't want to be tossed out for doing something wrong.

"No, you did not." Severus stepped into the room and looked around with a curious eye for a few moments before he asked, "I am curious as to why you chose this room."

Harry shrugged from the bed. "Don't know," he said. "It's cozy I guess. I like looking at the woods out the windows."

"Would you not prefer a larger bed?"

Harry shook his head. "Never slept in a bigger bed before." In fact, he was going to ask Kenai if there were curtains he could put up around the bottom bunk to make it more like his bed at Hogwarts.

"This was... my room, when I grew up here."

Harry raised his brows. "Your room?"

"I shared it with my cousin Elphas. He was a few months older and slept on the top bunk."

"Other people lived here?"

"The estate belonged to my grandparents, Oliver and Sophia Prince. I lived here with my mother, and several of my cousins and aunts and uncles."

"Where are they now?" Harry asked. He had no idea that there were other people he was related to aside from the Dursleys.

"You have three sets of great aunts and uncles who do not speak to us, and 12 second cousins who also do not speak to us."

"Oh." Harry looked at the floor. So he didn't really have other family members.

"Oliver and Sophia Prince were strict parents and grandparents. They liked to keep their descendants close to keep an eye on them and to be sure they were living in a ‘proper' manner. My mother was not as ‘well behaved' as the others. She was the only member of the family to marry a Muggle. Despite that fact, my grandparents left the estate to her for some reason, and she then left it to me. The rest of the family were upset, and they scorned the inheritance we were given. Several of my cousins kept in contact with me during and after school, but when they learned that I had become a death eater, they broke off all ties. I have not spoken to any of them since your mother and I... went our separate ways."

Harry bit his lip. That was an awful lot of information to take in about his father and their family all at once.

"Are we related to anyone that goes to Hogwarts?"

"It is tradition that the Prince's do not attend Hogwarts. My cousin Elphas and I were the only ones. The others all went to Beaxbatons in France."

"Why Elphas?"

"He was forcibly removed from Beaxbatons after his first year for behavioral issues."

"What did he do?"

"He played a prank on one of his siblings and our grandparents pulled him out and sent him to Hogwarts."

While Harry longed to have connections with a family, he was suddenly glad that he hadn't grown up under the rule of his great grandparents. He thought that this home and tutoring and his father and brothers mannerisms were awfully proper as it was, and he didn't know that he could fit in here as it was.

"Dinner will be in a few minutes. Perhaps Kenai will help you decorate afterwards."

Harry nodded and went past his father out the door to find Kenai, partly because he wasn't sure where the kitchen was. He didn't see his father glancing over the long list on the desk of things Harry wanted to learn, or the curious look on his face.

Dinner it turned out was a quiet affair, with Kenai doing most of the talking about his plans for the summer and about a letter he'd already received from Pansy and an invite he'd extended to Theodore Knott to come over next week. After dinner Kenai followed Harry upstairs and questioned him about his new room much as their father had done.

"It's so small," Kenai complained. "There's a great big room right across the hall from this one."

"I know," Harry said, "but I like this one."

"Ok, ok. What colors do you want?"

"Red I guess."

Kenai pointed his wand at Harry's curtains and spoke a description, and the curtains changed.

"That's it?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much. Picture it in your head and say it and point your wand and it'll change.

Harry pointed his wand at the bedspread and tried, and was pleasantly surprised when a warm patchwork quilt appeared with various shades of red with an occasional gold embellishment or lion. He could tell that Kenai thought it was ratty, but it was perfect to him and he wanted to crawl underneath it immediately. He'd never owned a blanket so soft or that looked like someone had taken the time to make it for him.

After a few tries, Harry had finally settled for a soft off white curtains that went down to the floor, a soft red area rug between his bed and desk, and a soft white plush chair that Harry thought he could easily fall asleep curled up in.

"Ok," Kenai said after watching his brother transform his new room. "Here's how you do posters."

He spent several minutes transfiguring pieces of parchment into larger pieces of paper, and then telling them what to turn into, mostly by holding up Quidditch magazines he'd brought with him from his own room.

Harry flipped through the magazines and then transferring pictures to the posters himself, along with a lion from his new blanket. When they were done, there were four new posters on the walls, and several enlarged photos of Harry's friends spello-taped on the wall above his desk.

The last thing Harry did was add red curtains to the bottom bunk and a soft white patchwork blanket to the top bunk, and then he stood back and admired their work.

"Well?" He asked, and Kenai shrugged.

"Maybe you want green instead?" he teased. "You are a Snape after all."

"What house was Elphas in?" Harry asked, and Kenai crossed his arms.

"We don't talk about Elphas."

"Come on, what house?"

"Hufflepuff," Kenai finally said under his breath, and Harry laughed.

"Maybe you'd like some yellow in your room then."

"Go on," Kenai said and left the room.

Harry looked around his new room again, and gave a faint smile. It wasn't the Weasley's, but it was his, for as long as they would let him keep it, and he hoped that it would be a long time indeed.

Deciding that he was hungry and that he didn't want to be a shut in for the day, Harry made his way downstairs towards the large dining room and long dining table, and was surprised to find several dishes already prepared, though neither his father or Kenai was there to eat. Wondering who had prepared the food and if he should wait for the others, Harry took a seat and put some fresh cut fruit on his plate along with eggs and a muffin. He waited for another moment before the smell of the food got to him and he dug in anyway. When he was nearly finished, Kenai came down the stairs wearing a nice pair of tan shorts and a black polo shirt. Harry didn't have any summer clothes, and was still in his jeans.

"Hey," Kenai said as he sat down on the other side of the table across from Harry and began piling his plate high.

"Has... dad... come down to eat yet?" Harry asked curiously, and Kenai shrugged.

"Don't know. He's probably in the ground floor study looking through tutor listings."

"Oh, ok," Harry said. He finished his peaches and then asked, "Are we allowed to go out?"

"Yeah."

"Where are the boundaries of the property?"

Laughing, Kenai said, "It would take you a while to walk to them. We've got a pretty big chunk of Idlewen Forest to the south, you might see some elves there. They come in the spring and summer to tend the trees."

"Elves?"

"Yeah. Some of the woodland elves are migratory and go from elven wood to wood to help the trees grow."

"And we're allowed to go talk to them?"

With another laugh Kenai swallowed a bite of egg and said, "You can, but good luck finding any of them. You won't see them unless they want to be seen, and they keep to themselves mostly."

"Oh."

"Then at the west past the lawns and field is Gildwild Wood, and you can walk for about thirty minutes straight West before you hit the boundary. There are three streams that run through. On the other side of the third stream is just wilderness and a little ways beyond that is a Muggle village. To the North are foothills, and you can walk for about fifteen minutes that way before you'll come to a little cliff face and the edge of our property. To the East our property line ends at a little river, and on the other side is another estate with vinyards."

"Are they Muggle?"

He nodded. "Yeah the parents are but the girl goes to our school. She's in our year in Hufflepuff. Hannah Abbot."

"Huh." Harry hadn't known that she was Muggleborn. He'd never really talked to her in school, but they often had History of Magic together, and she seemed nice enough.

"When will tutoring start?" Harry asked.

"Maybe tomorrow, it just depends on when dad can get tutors in. You gave him your list last night didn't you?" Harry nodded as Kenai finished his last bite of food.

"Yeah, tomorrow probably then. I got lucky one summer because he couldn't find a tutor for me for a week and a half, so I got to just relax."

Harry tried to imagine just being allowed to relax for any amount of time during the summer, let alone a week and a half. Every summer, from the moment he stepped out of Uncle Vernon's car, he'd been made to do chores. It was also a Dursley tradition to make Harry stay up the entire night before his return to Hogwarts scrubbing out every little crevice the Dursleys could think of, and Dudley often dirtied things up on purpose for him whenever he could.

"What will you be tutored in this summer," Harry asked.

"I asked dad to get me a tutor in Elven Politics."

Harry sniggered into his muffin. He knew he was only doing it for that elven princess from the Christmas party.

"What does that entail?" Harry asked at a sour look from his brother.

"Dad says I'll have to learn at least one of the elven languages first, so he gave me a book to start with while we're waiting for the tutor."

"One of the languages. How many are there?"

"Nineteen I think. It depends on type of elf and locale. In Britain alone I think there are five languages."

"Wow," Harry said, impressed. Why couldn't Binns teach them stuff like this? The more Harry lived in the wizarding world, the more he was convinced that they should teach some sort of politics class at Hogwarts, especially for the Muggleborns. Harry couldn't help but feel that Kenai was making a smart move learning Elven politics, because he was setting himself up to have a better understanding of the way the world around them worked.

"What's the other class?"

Kenai shrugged. "Wizarding politics in foreign and Muggle affairs."

Harry raised a brow. "What in what where?"

"Dad said if I was going to learn Elven political agendas, tactics, and history, that I should learn ours as well. I don't care to because the Elves have a lot more sway than the Ministry of Magic likes to admit, and I don't intend on working for the Ministry anytime soon, but he was fairly adamant."

Harry scrunched up his nose. Their father hadn't said anything at all to him about his list of summer courses. An old familiar feeling stole over him then, as if he knew for certain that his father cared about Kenai while forgetting about him entirely, and as much as Harry tried to brush it off, it stuck with him and made him lose his appetite.

"What are you up to today then?" Harry asked.

"Writing letters to Teddy and Pansy asking them to come over."

"Are there rules for that?" Harry wondered out loud. He'd never actually had a home where he was allowed to invite friends over before, and both times the Weasleys had shown up at Privet Drive hadn't gone over well with the Dursleys. He wondered then what the Dursleys thought about him just not showing up this summer, and thought that they might not have noticed at all except for the fact that there was no one there to slave over a stove or around the house for them.

"Not really. Just so long as I go to tutoring every day and don't get into too much trouble. Oh, and no girls are allowed in my room alone. Not that I would do anything with Pansy."

"Aren't there any other girls you like? Why do you hang around Pansy if you don't like her?"

"I like her, she's my friend, just not like that."

"Ok," Harry said. He pushed himself away from the table and told Kenai he'd see him later before heading back up to his room. He thought he'd write to Ron and Ginny to let them know he was ok and hadn't been murdered in the few hours since he'd seen them last, but on the way to his room, he was distracted by a sound.

Harry paused on the second floor stairs. He thought he'd heard a female voice, but he didn't know of any other occupants in the house... unless his father was re-married or had a girlfriend he didn't know about. He shuddered at the thought.

Frowning as he wondered again where the voice had come from, Harry took another step up the stairs when he heard someone clear their throat, and he startled thinking that perhaps it might be Umbridge, come back to seek revenge for him getting her thrown into Azkaban.

"Hello?" he asked uncertainly, looking around again.

"Young man."

It sounded as if it had come from a room on the second floor, and Harry went down the three steps and then down the hallway, opening each door as he went until he came to a bend in the hall and found a portrait of an elderly woman sitting in a chair with her hands folded in her lap. She looked richly dressed, though there were no pearls or other jewelry save for the Prince family crest on a necklace, the same one that Harry wore.

"Were you the one talking to me?" Harry asked her carefully.

"Indeed I was." She gave him a close looking over and then went back to her rigid position there on her chair. "So you're the one."

"The one what?" Harry asked. Had she somehow heard of him defeating Voldemort? He didn't think that portraits read newspapers, though he knew that some of them could travel from building to building, even at a great distance.

"The one that Severus did not accept. My great grandson."

"Oh," Harry said. Of course the portraits here would know all about him, though he was surprised that his father had ever talked about him before. From what he knew of his father at Hogwarts, he'd been perfectly content to pretend that Harry was invisible up until six or seven months ago.

"Are you Sophia Prince?"

"Are you Harry Snape?"

Harry frowned. She was an odd old woman. Prim and proper, but with a quirky attitude that made him uncertain of who he was dealing with. Harry could just imagine what life would have been like with this woman in charge, lurking around a corner to catch you in trouble.

"I'm just Harry," he said then, making up his mind that he was just going to have to be uncertain for a while until things were more settled.

"Well then just Harry. What are you doing at Prince Manor?"

"Er... living here?"

"And what room are you staying in?"

"My dad's old room on the West side."

"Interesting that you would choose a room with no portraits."

Harry scratched his head. This conversation was becoming stranger by the moment. "Should I have?"

She gave him the faintest smile then, and Harry knew where his father had gotten the look from. Severus Snape never smiled outright, not that Harry had seen, nor did he smirk, but occasionally Harry had seen his father give Kenai this same faint smile, as if he were happy or amused but trying to hide it.

"You just Harry should do whatever you feel like, provided that you do no harm to yourself or others, or to our home. This home has been in our family for generations, and I hope that it will continue to be so for generations to come.

"I won't hurt anything," Harry said adamantly then, and the elderly woman gave a brief nod.

"Good. And whilst you are here, I will make certain that no harm comes to you."

Harry tilted his head then. Ron was protective of him, but he didn't have much experience in this area from other sources.

"How? You're just a portrait."

"Take it back young man, this very instant."

"What?"

"You know what you said."

After a long uncertain pause, Harry said, "I take it back?"

She eyed him for a few long moments and then said, "Do not think that because I'm only a portrait, that I have no influence in this home just Harry. I am your great grandmother, and I am the matriarch of this abode. You'll find that my Oliver feels the same way."

"My- great grandpa?"

"He's in the East wing of the house."

"Don't you want to be with him?"

She crossed her arms then. "Perhaps it would be best if you minded your own affairs just Harry."

"Ok." Harry rocked back on his heels, wondering if he could go now.

"You may go," she told him, seeing the question on his face.

"Ok," Harry said. He stopped at the end of the hall before turning the corner to look back, but Sophia was already occupied looking for something in her mauve purse, and Harry took the opportunity to hurry away before being called back.

Finally in his room, Harry sat down at his desk and was about to pull out a parchment and paper when he found himself wishing for his journal to write his latest experience down in. He knew he could go directly to his father if he wanted, but he wasn't sure where he was, and after years of writing things down, it felt too awkward to just go and talk to him.

Before Harry could write his first words to Ron however, a small stack of books on the edge of his desk caught his attention. He didn't know how he hadn't seen them there before.

Pulling the stack over to himself, Harry looked at the top book and was surprised to find that it was an aging and dusty art book, "Famous Artistic Works Of Witches And Wizards To Span The Ages."

He flipped open to the middle and found several of Leonardo Divinci's drawings and sketches. "Whoa," Harry breathed. Divinci was a wizard? Aunt Petunia would flip out if she knew she had a replica painting done by a wizard hanging on her living room wall. He laughed despite himself and flipped through a few more pages before looking at the next old book, which had basic instructions on drawing animals and people in proportion. There was an index in the back, and as Harry scanned it he saw instructions for drawing everything from a dueling wizard to thestrals. Harry wanted to forget about the rest of the books right there and then and pull out a pencil and parchment, but forwent the urge for the moment to see what else had been loaned to him.

The next book was one he suspected had once belonged to Kenai about playing guitar, though he thought it wasn't very practical to have since he didn't have a guitar to practice on. The fourth book was tiny and had no more than thirty pages, but it seemed to contain a wealth of information about basic healing spells and potions, and Harry vowed to learn everything in it, hating that he had never been able to heal himself in time of need, or heal his father after the incident with Voldemort last year.

The final book was one describing various violin techniques. Though the gift of the loaned books was kind, whether they had come from his father or Kenai, Harry felt disappointed. There wasn't one on elven magic. Was his father going to let him take four courses over the summer and these were his text books? He was excited about these subjects, but most of all he wanted to learn about the Elves. Perhaps he'd find his father before he hired tutors and ask to switch to Elven politics with Kenai. It would give them a chance to spend some time here in this big empty house, and give Harry a chance to learn what he wanted.

Making up his mind, Harry rose from his chair and went in search of his father, though after an hour his search proved fruitless. He also hadn't spotted Kenai anywhere and wondered if the two had left him there alone. Harry imagined them off someplace fishing or doing other father and son activities, and he felt very alone then.

Heading back to his room, Harry finally sat to write to Ron, and decided that this was as close to his journal as he was going to get.

Hey Ron,

I'm here and things aren't too bad, but the house is big and empty. We're allowed to have friends over. Kenai's already writing to Theodore Knott and Pansy Parkinson to invite them over. I haven't seen anybody since breakfast though, unless you count the portrait of my great grandmother who practically interrogated me. We have to take summer classes. I asked to take Elven magic but I guess it's not going to happen. Professor Snape did give me some books on drawing and healing, and playing guitar and violin, but I haven't got an instrument to play. I won't know what I'm taking until the tutors get here I guess. Wish you guys were here. Tell Ginny to expect a letter as well, and if you hear from Hermione, tell her I said hi.

Talk to you soon,

- Harry

Harry set the quill down and looked over to Hedwig's cage which sat on the floor in a corner by the closet door. "Want to take some letters to Ron and Ginny girl?" he asked. She cooed at him, and he didn't relish the idea of giving up his familiar for a day or two, leaving him completely alone there. After staring at her for a full five minutes, he finally rose with Ron's letter and tied it to her leg before sitting to write his letter to Ginny, feeling good just having someone to talk to, even if his friends weren't really there.

As Harry thought about it and lay on his back staring at the bottom boards of the top bunk, he felt his stomach squirm. His father had been almost as bad to him as Voldemort had been. If he couldn't get over the one, could he forget about the other? If Voldemort had come to him one day and given him new clothes and books and Quidditch gear, and a place to live, would he have given in so easily? He hoped not, and on the other hand, he had done it with his father and brother. Voldemort was volatile, and Harry knew he would have turned on any of his followers if it suited him. Would his father do the same? It was a recurring fear Harry had been trying to deal with for months... ever since Christmas.

Finally deciding to drag himself out of bed if he wasn't going to sleep, Harry sat up and opened his curtains. Maybe he'd wake up Old Lady Prince for some company he thought wryly. Treading out of his room barefoot and down the carpeted hallway, Harry found himself staring at an empty portrait that should have contained Sophia Prince. With a frown, he wondered where she'd be at this time of night. Probably spying on somebody sleeping, he thought. Hadn't she said something about Oliver Prince being on the other side of the manor? Maybe Harry would go and wake him up. He might be angry, but he was just a portrait after all.

It took some searching in the dark hallways before Harry finally heard a noise that sounded familiar.

He snuck around a corner and was startled when someone suddenly sssshhhhh'd him directly into his ear.

Harry spun to find Sophia in a painting of a manor right next to his face on the wall.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, squinting to see that she was all the way up against the side of the frame as if she were hiding.

"What am I- what are you doing here just Harry?"

"Looking for Oliver," he said.

"At this hour? I hardly think so young man. You and your father, I swear. He was always sneaking about at all hours of the night too."

"My dad?"

"Always plotting something, setting traps for your cousins or grandfather, sneaking out of the house to see your mother, venturing into the woods late at night to collect potions ingredients. Now you tell me the truth young man, what are you doing out of bed?"

"I did tell you the truth. I couldn't sleep. I wanted to talk to somebody but you weren't in your portrait."

"And why didn't you wake your father if you had a nightmare?"

Harry took a step back. Why would he wake his father?

"You know I had a nightmare?"

"I can't think of any other reason you'd be out of bed aside from mischief. Well, what was it about then?"

Harry frowned. "You first. Why are you all the way over here?"

"This will be the second time today that I've told you to keep your wonderings to yourself."

"I'm going back to bed," Harry said. "After I talk to Oliver." He took a step down the hall but Sophia made a strange sound then and Harry turned to see her reaching out towards him as if she wanted to reach right out of the portrait to grab his arm.

"Don't."

"Why not?"

"He's sleeping."

"Then why are you here?"

She gave him a glare that reminded him of his father, only not as strong, and Harry wondered how long it had taken the man to perfect the look and improve upon it after growing up under this woman's watchful eye.

"I think you should return to bed," she said then.

Irritated, Harry turned and stalked past her. Fine. Nobody wanted to tell him anything, nobody wanted to let him know the family secrets, that was up to them, just like always. He'd gotten out of bed to seek comfort, but had only ended up feeling more of an outcast than before.

It was nearly dawn when Harry fell to sleep again, and when Severus poked his head into his son's door shortly thereafter, he spotted Harry on top of his covers, and papers strewn across the boy's desk covered in scribbles and sketches. He'd obviously been awake all night, and Severus wondered why before he left his son alone to sleep.

* * *

Feeling no desire to stay in the house after his rough night, Harry dressed in a red t-shirt and blue jeans and made his way down through the house. He knew it was well after breakfast, but he poked his head into the dining room anyway, hoping to find some food waiting for him on the table. There was nothing for him however, so he wandered around the first floor looking for the kitchen, which he finally found in the front corner of the house across the entryway from the too large dining room. Like the rest of the first floor, the dining room was bright with light from tall windows, and was mostly painted white. There were white marble counters and large white tiles on the floor. Harry went to one of the three fridges and opened it to find a wide variety of vegetables. Thinking he'd make himself a sandwich, he began pulling things out, though he was startled a few moments later as he went to the counter with a plate and his ingredients by a high pitched voice.

"No no no! Master musn't do that!"

Harry turned and saw a small male house elf behind him with his hands up over his ears. He noticed right away that he was wearing clothes, and knew then that he was a free elf, and wondered what he was doing there.

"Sorry?"

The elf hurried over, pulled out a stool from under the counter and climbed up onto it in front of Harry's plate and ingredients. "Master musn't fix himself food. Bane will lose his job."

"I didn't mean to take your job from you," Harry said.

"Doesn't master know that it's a house elf's job to fix the food?"

"I've never had a house elf before," Harry said. "I always fix my own food unless I'm at school."

The elf shook his head. "I am the master house elf here, and I will fix the food." He seemed very annoyed but also frantic as if someone might have seen this infraction.

"I didn't mean to cause you trouble. I'm new here," Harry said. "My name is Harry."

"Master house elf Bane knows who you are," the elf said, finishing the sandwich and still not looking up at Harry until he was sure the sandwich was perfect. He slid the plate over to Harry.

"Can I at least help you clean up?" Harry asked.

"Noes! Musn't help clean up the kitchen either! This is my kitchen! Out with you out out!"

Harry grabbed the sandwich off the plate quickly and hurried out of the kitchen with Bane hot on his heels. When the door had closed behind him, Harry listened interestedly for a few moments at the high voice of the elf and the sounds of cleaning within. He wondered if the elf was always that high strung.

Eating his sandwich and thinking that it was quite good, Harry made his way out the front door and onto the grounds. The sun felt good on his skin, and he took in his surroundings before deciding to head to the south towards Idlewen Forest to see if he could find any elves. He had the elven leaf on the silver chain around his neck and tucked into his shirt, and wondered if any of the elves would show themselves to him if he pulled it out. He'd taken to wearing it since it had somehow ended up in his pocket the day after the Christmas party, though he often kept it hidden. It was one of his treasures and he didn't feel like sharing it with anyone just yet, though Ginny and Umbridge knew he had it, and if his father had gotten that far into his journal yet, he would know as well.

As Harry crossed the vast lawns and came to the edge of the forest, he wondered that any elf would be so shy or cautious that they wouldn't let wizards see them. If they held so much sway with the Ministry as Kenai had said, and went to Christmas parties, then they couldn't be all that shy. He stood on the edge of the forest and peered into it. It was nothing at all like the Forbidden forest, which was dark and dank with mangled trees and roots sticking out everywhere. Idlewen was filled with tall straight trees with lots of room in between, and plenty of light coming down through the canopy. There was shrubbery and there were patches of grass and moss growing up every tree and on every rock, but for the most part the ground was dirt, and Harry knew that if he chose to wander in, he'd have no trouble picking an easy path.

He probably stared into the depths of the forest for five minutes, ears perked for any sound before he came out of his trance and decided to go in. Kenai said they could go where they wanted, hadn't he?

"Hello?" Harry asked, feeling stupid talking to no one but himself. If the elves were shy, he doubted they'd answer, but it was worth a shot. "Is there anyone here?" He walked a bit further before he tried again. "Any elves? Any friends of Slyfaen Gandu? He was the Head Consul to the Elven Tribunal, the one that had invited Harry to spend time with the elves at the Christmas party. There was no answer however, and Harry let his shoulders fall. He walked for what felt like a half hour or more, just wandering, before he decided to turn back. He hadn't even seen a squirrel or heard any birds. It felt strange for a forest to be so still and quiet, and while he hadn't been in any hurry to wander in, he felt the need to be fast wandering back out. He felt disappointed as he crossed the lawns back up to the house. Inside, he found his father sitting at the long dining room table by himself having lunch.

"Harry," he said. Harry paused on the threshold of the dining room, and then decided to go in. It hadn't been that long since he'd eaten, but he didn't want to spend the day alone. He sat down across from his father.

"Kenai received an invite to Pansy Parkinson's house this morning at breakfast," Severus said. "He will be away until dinner."

"Where does she live?" Harry asked. He'd only ever been to Ron's house, and had no idea where other wizarding families called home.

"In a suburb of London."

"Oh."

"How has your time been here so far?"

Harry wanted to shrug and say ‘lonely' because the house was so big and he really hadn't seen his father or Kenai much at all, but he felt like he'd be a disappointment if he did. "Good," he said. "When do we start tutoring?"

"Kenai's tutor for Elven politics will arrive tomorrow morning. Your tutor for the arts will arrive tomorrow as well."

"The arts?"

"Many of your choices were in the arts. I was able to find a tutor who teaches guitar, violin, piano, and painting. He will help you with what you would like to study."

"I don't have a guitar or violin though," Harry said.

"I realize. You are also in need of summer clothes, and other supplies. I thought we might take a trip to get them while Kenai is out. If we leave now we should be back by dinner."

Harry moved to get up, excited, but then stilled, a question begging to be let out. "Can I study elven magic?"

Severus looked at his son carefully. "May I ask where this desire comes from?"

He did shrug this time. "When I was at the Christmas party Slyfaen Gandu told me I had elven blood and I was welcome in their kingdom whenever I wanted. I just thought it would be interesting to learn more about that."

"Unfortunate as it is, there is not much written on the subject of elves, and I do not know of a tutor who would be willing to come and teach you."

"But an elf is coming to teach Kenai politics?"

"No," Severus said. "A man by the name of Green. He is a liaison between the elven high consul and the Ministry office of Elven affairs."

"Oh."

Severus stood up and motioned for Harry to do the same, and took him outside to apparate. Harry had never really been outside of Hogwarts with his father before except the train station and to defeat Voldemort, and he wasn't sure what to expect of a shopping trip to Diagonalley.

As it turned out, Severus hadn't taken them to Diagonalley at all. From what Harry could see when they came out of the alley, the small town looked distinctly Muggle.

"Where did we go?"

"Coleraine."

"What are we going to get here?"

"There's a shopping center with a young men's clothing store, and a music store and art supply store. After we leave here we'll go to Diagonalley for the rest of the supplies."

Harry's stomach squirmed. How much were they going to spend?

Severus and Harry crossed a busy street into the shopping center parking lot and entered the clothing store. Hurrying to do as he was told, Harry picked out several pairs of shorts, half a dozen new t-shirts (Which he really thought was too much considering he already had so many), some new polo shirts, a new school bag, socks and underwear, and a baseball cap. He was surprised when Severus also directed him towards the shoes where he picked out two pairs of sandals and another pair of sneakers. Harry felt like his head was spinning. His new wardrobe from Christmas was so large and he'd been so careful to preserve every new piece of clothing, and now here he was getting another new wardrobe. He wasn't even sure if his closet would hold it all, and he knew that his school trunk wouldn't.

Next door to the clothing shop they found the large music store, and Severus asked a clerk not much older than Harry for help in picking out a guitar and violin. Harry wasn't sure if he'd even like playing either instrument, and felt like he was sure to be a disappointment if he decided he didn't like it after his father had purchased these things for him. His initial thought was to hurry home and write this down in his journal, before he remembered once again, that he didn't have it. Despite his anxiety, Harry was a little excited about getting to pick out an acoustic guitar, and ended up with a handsome pale one with a dark back and sides. They also got a guitar stand, extra strings, a carrying case, and several other accessories the clerk said they'd need. They didn't spend nearly as much time picking out a violin, but Harry also admired the dark wood and beautiful grain in the one they bought. In his head Harry was keeping tally of the money, and he winced whenever they added something else to the list of things they'd bought.

They had to go to the other side of the shopping center to get to the art supply store, and Harry wasn't sure what they would buy here, but Severus lead him to the drawing section and began picking out drawing pads, pens, pencils, chalks, pastels, erasers, charcoals and other things Harry wasn't even sure the use of. He also insisted that Harry pick out at least three books on art or drawing that were of interest to him, because after the summer was over, he'd be able to take these books to Hogwarts with him to study and learn from. In the end Harry picked out a book on drawing landscapes, drawing cartoons in some style called Manga, and drawing architecture. He didn't have a lot of interest in these things, but the book already at home in his room covered proportions of people and animals in depth and he wasn't sure what else he would need.

When nobody was looking, Severus covertly used his wand each time they left a store to shrink whatever was in their bags and lighten the load, so that it looked like they were only carrying one small bag around instead of several. Harry thought they would head to Diagonalley next, but Severus lead him into one more store, a grocery store, and instructed him to get the other necessities such as tooth brushes and tooth paste, hair gels and the like. Harry reached up to flatten his hair, thinking that it really wasn't that bad, when Severus reached out a hand to still him. "This is where we come to buy Kenai's things. We've purchased a lot so that the supplies will last through Christmas break or longer."

"Ok," Harry nodded. He'd only been shopping with the Weasleys or by himself before in Diagonalley, never with a parent who was buying things for him, and he'd never had hair gels or new tooth brushes. He would never be able to bring himself to tell his father that he'd been using the same old tooth brush he'd had since first year, because Hogsmeade didn't seem to sell toothbrushes anywhere, and he often borrowed toothpaste from Ron during the year.

Finally, just before five o'clock, they apparated to Diagonalley, where Severus needed to pick up some potions ingredients, and lead Harry to the larger of the three bookstores to pick up some more summer reading material.

"This is for pleasure reading, not school work," Severus instructed him. "Kenai does not care for reading so I make it an assignment for him, to read three novels before school starts again, but once he gets into a novel, I believe he enjoys it."

"Oh," Harry said. "I can just read things from the library." He knew there were three rooms back at the house that were lined with books from floor to ceiling.

"Yes, you can, but even so, we purchase new books every year to add to the collection. Pick out three that interest you and take them to the counter. If you find any that are not novels that you would like, bring them up as well."

Harry bit his lip as his father walked away to look at mystery novels, and Harry looked around at the tall shelves. It was almost a daunting task. He wasn't really allowed time to read at the Dursleys, and at school he only read school books. He didn't even realize that wizards had novels. As he browsed the shelves he came to a ‘fantasy' section, and gave a little laugh, thinking that the whole wizarding world was fantasy, and was surprised to find a book called, ‘Harry Grotter and the sands of time.' "Oh no," he said, pulling the book off the shelf to read the back of the book. ‘Harry Grotter is back for another mysterious year at the Muggle boarding school Mogwarts, where all is not what it appears to be...' he stopped reading and stuffed the book back onto the shelf. He hoped none of his classmates had been reading this, and what was worse, it appeared to be a part of a long series. Harry hurriedly pulled three books from the shelf and went to the counter, where his father was now waiting for him. As far as meeting his goal for not being stuck in his room for the day, his day had been a success, but it had left Harry's nerves feeling frayed, and he was quiet through dinner, letting Kenai do all the talking.

As he lay in bed that night, all he could think, was that he missed his journal.