“Last neighborhood, Dudley,” Petunia announced as she pulled up next to the curb. Three other boys in monster costumes were waiting at the corner, one leaning against a pole as he kicked around a rock, and he looked up and smiled at Dudley. “Your friends are already here to assist you around. Now you be careful, love, and stay with your friends. I’m going to run to the store before it closes for a few last-minute supplies, and I will be right back to pick you up in twenty minutes.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Dudley said as he slid out of the car, adjusting his Transformers costume before reaching back into the car to grab his half-filled bag of candy.

“Harry,” Petunia snapped, “out of the car. And don’t forget Dudley’s second bag of candy.”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said, sliding out of the car with a half-filled bag of candy himself. He didn’t have a costume, but he was lucky enough to have put on his favorite red jumper before leaving the house. The nights had become chilly, and in Dudley’s old, baggy clothes, few things kept him warm in the fall months. This jumper had shrunk in the wash, and Petunia had reluctantly given it to him, and it was practically new and fit perfectly after its run through the dryer, and Harry wore it as often as he could in the fall and winter months, enjoying the warmth it had to offer. He stood next to Dudley while Petunia spoke to her son again.

“Be safe, Dudders.”

“I will, Mum, you can go now.”

“Harry, don’t you let anything happen to my Dudley, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said politely. “I’ll fight off anyone who tries to hurt Dudley.”

Petunia gave him a glare before rolling up the window and driving off.

“You’re such a suck up,” Dudley said.

“I was serious,” Harry insisted. “I’ll protect you, Dudley. As long as the attacker isn’t bigger than me.”

“Everyone is bigger than you.”

“Well, shucks, I guess you’re out of luck then. Better watch your own back then.”

“Why I oughtta—”

“Hey,” the kid leaning against the pole interrupted. He pushed off the pole, pushing his Dracula cape behind him as he walked over to Dudley and Harry. “We need to get moving if we want to hit all the houses. You can pummel your cousin after.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right, Piers,” Dudley agreed. “Let’s go. Bring my other bag of candy, Harry.”

“Coming, Optimus.” Harry followed Dudley and his big, stupid gang of friends. That included Piers, who was dressed as Dracula, Gordon, who was dressed like Batman, and Dennis, who was dressed like He-Man. Harry thought they all looked ridiculous in their costumes, and maybe a little too old as everyone was practically towering over the other kids. Despite being ten, Harry was small for his age, at least according to the school nurse, and he pulled off the cute trick-or-treater better than Dudley and his friends did, even without a costume. Harry had a feeling Petunia knew this, and that was why he had been forced to partake in trick-or-treating once again. At each door, he used a sweet smile to earn an extra candy now and then, and when Dudley wasn’t looking, he pocketed a couple sweets.

It hardly took ten minutes to hit every house on the street at a speedwalk, and since everyone had managed to fill their bags between a few different neighborhoods, they were ready to sort and trade off their sweets.

“My neighbor has a huge pumpkin patch growing in his backyard,” Piers said, leading the way. “We could hang out there to trade, he never minds.”

Piers was not kidding when he said “huge,” the neighbor’s pumpkin patch extended from the man’s backyard to the edge of a nearby cemetery, a small fence marking the boundary line between the two properties. The five kids walked toward the back of the patch and sat on some of the largest pumpkins before digging through their collection of sweets, dumping out the candy in a large pile on the damp grass.

“Let’s see it, Harry,” Dudley demanded, holding out a hand.

Harry passed the bag of candy to Dudley, sitting down in the grass and pulling at a few blades while he watched the boys pick out their favorites and pass the unwanted sweets around. The wet grass soaked his trousers, and it made him shiver slightly in the cold night, and he hugged himself, snuggling into the wool of the jumper. Between the four kids, they managed to fill their bags back up with only their favorites, and they high fived each other for a job well done. Harry rolled his eyes and looked down the street, hoping to spot Petunia’s car so they could head home. He really wanted a taste of the treats in his pocket, but he wouldn’t dare eat them in front of Dudley and his gang.

“My bag isn’t filled all the way,” Dudley complained after he studied his bag again. He glared at Harry. “You didn’t try hard enough to win extra treats.”

“Don’t you think we’re getting a little old for this?” Harry asked. “We’re not cute five-year-olds anymore. Well, I’m not, anyway.”

“Shut up,” Dudley said, glaring at his cousin. He looked over at Piers. “This is your neighborhood. Aren’t there any other houses around here that give out candy?”

“Well, there’s Old Miner’s Road, down this street and one over, but only like two or three people actually give candy out. Besides, you’d have to walk past the Forbidden House on the Corner, and my parents don’t want me anywhere near that creepy place.”

“What’s the Forbidden House on the Corner?” Harry asked.

“You don’t know?” Piers asked, looking between Dudley and Harry as if Dudley should have informed Harry of all the neighborhood gossip. “It’s a haunted house that’s always empty. At least, it looks empty . . . until someone goes near it.”

“I heard from Malcolm,” Dennis said with a smirk, “that a cousin of his braved going up to the house on a dare. He made it up to the porch, all the way up to the door, but before he could even do anything, someone inside the house knocked on the door first! Like it was asking to come out of the house! He ran off the porch faster than he’s ever run for Phys Ed. and never went back. Won’t even look at the place.”

“That’s not true,” Harry argued.

“Is too,” Gordon argued. “That house is famous for kids disappearing. There’s like twenty missing reports in this area in the last decade alone. Unsolved with no leads. Bet they all have to do with that house in some way. No one walks past it anymore; you cross the street if you need to go around that corner.”

“The house is always dark,” Dudley added, “even during the day. There’s never lights on, but you might see shadows walking around in the windows. Sometimes, you might see glowing eyes staring back at you, and they never blink. If you have to walk by, stay as far away on the sidewalk as you can, cause even if you get too close to the gate, it might—”

“Grab ya!” Dennis said loudly in Harry’s ears from behind him, jabbing Harry in the ribs at the same time.

Harry yelped in surprise, jumping up to his feet and backing away from Dennis with a glare, but he bumped into someone, and he turned sharply to see Piers holding his Dracula cape near his face in the way the famed vampire was said to do. Piers slowly advanced on Harry as he spoke.

“It’s rumored that the one and only Dracula lives in the Forbidden House on the Corner. That’s why you never see lights on, or Dracula himself. He only comes out at night, hungry for blood. Children blood.” Harry stumbled over a pumpkin and fell to the ground, landing with a grunt on his side. He looked up at Piers as the boy circled him like a vulture. “He kidnaps kids from their beds at night and takes them to his lab where he yanks out all their fingernails, taking pleasure in their screams. Then, he adds the nails to a potion that he forces down the kids’ throats, knocking them out. That’s when he feeds from their necks, draining their bodies of every ounce of blood they have.”

“You’re lying,” Harry said, despite the small hint of doubt creeping up his back. “There’s no such thing as Dracula or vampires and no one kidnaps children to suck their blood.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Piers said. “And when he comes for you, you better scream loud and pray someone hears you.”

Suddenly, Harry was dragged by his feet across the yard, and he screamed at first until he saw Gordon and Dennis yanking on him and laughing, and then he growled loudly and kicked his feet while thrashing slightly.

“Let me go!” Harry said. “It’s not funny; you’re ruining my jumper!”

The boys dropped Harry’s legs and laughed while Harry pushed o his feet and brushed himself off, cringing at the mud he was covered in. Petunia would go mental at the sight of him, and it would be his own fault. Dudley and his friends were never to blame, of course.

“You guys aren’t funny,” Harry said as he kept trying to brush the rest of the dirt off himself. “That house is probably just an old, abandoned home that no one takes care of.”

“Oh yeah?” Piers challenged. “Want to put that to the test? Feeling brave?”

“You’re all stupid. Those are all just dumb stories meant to scare you all so you won’t trespass on the property, I bet.”

“If that’s true, then you won’t mind going to the house.”

“I wouldn’t actually,” Harry said despite feeling the opposite. He didn’t want the other boys to know that their stories did get to him a little, and he was scared to even see the place, but he wasn’t about to back down from his words.

“Ha, your cousin really is an idiot,” Piers said to Dudley. “Okay, Harry. I’ll give you my bag of candy if you knock on the door of the house and stay there for a whole minute, no matter what happens.”

Harry gulped, but bravely nodded. How could he refuse a whole bag of candy? Maybe he could eat a few pieces before Dudley ultimately stole it from him.

“I’ll do you one better,” Gordon added. “I’ll add my bag of candy if you actually enter the house.”

“And stay inside for two minutes,” Dennis said. “That’s counting sixty Mississippi’s twice.”

Dudley hesitated for a moment before sharing his friends’ grins and nodding his head at Harry.

“I’ll even share my candy with you if you can grab something from inside the house and bring it out,” Dudley said.

Harry’s knees were shaking, but only slightly, so he hoped it wasn’t noticeable to the other boys all waiting for him to agree to the challenge. It wasn’t that bad. It was just an old building, no different than any other building. Go to the front door and knock. Enter the house. Stay inside for two minutes. Grab some trinket and get out. He could do that. And then he would prove to these bullies that he was the bravest child out there, and that all their stupid stories were fake.

“Fine. And you will really give me all your candy?” Harry asked.

“Maybe more like ninety percent,” Piers smirked. “You’ll do it then?”

“I’m going to prove to all of you that there’s no Dracula and the house is just empty.”

“Challenge accepted,” Piers said, holding his hand out.

Harry shook Piers’ hand, then winced when Piers squeezed his hand roughly before releasing it.

“Follow me,” Piers said, and the five children headed for Old Miner’s Road. They left the bright, colorful street where kids continued laughing as they went up to decorated houses covered in fake cobwebs, jack-o-lanterns, and cute monster cut-outs sitting on the porches. The laughter slowly faded away as the boys turned the corner onto a vastly different street.

With no colorful lights on any houses save for two at the very end of the road, the street was ten times darker than the one they had come from. And there, across the street, stood an imposing structure, an old Edwardian house with peeling gray paint and crooked stairs on an unkempt porch that looked like it wanted to cave under the lightest pressure. The stained-glass windows were so faded it was hard to tell what the design may have been, and the night did not help discern any more unique features of the house. A rickety garden gate marked the property lines, and the gate door swung slightly despite the lack of a breeze. The lawn the gate surrounded was practically a jungle, but there was a small clearing through the center where a brick pathway led up to the porch.

“Okay, Harry,” Piers said. “Go.”

Harry took a deep breath, glancing back at the other boys then bravely stepped forward and reached a hand for the gate that creaked as it continued to rock back and forth. Harry’s hands shook as he slowly touched the door, stopping its movement and the sound it made, creating a dead silence. Harry flinched as he waited for something awful to happen, but nothing did.

He pushed the gate inward and stepped into the yard, letting the gate go when he was through, and it resumed its eerie noise. He followed the brick path, breathing heavy as his eyes scanned the yard for any monsters or glowing eyes, refusing to look at any windows in case he saw something move inside. He could do this. Obviously, no one lived here cause who in their right mind would let their home fall into such a state of disarray.

Harry made it to the porch. His nerve wavered, and he glanced back at the other boys.

Piers nodded at him in encouragement while the other three boys smiled at him, waving at him jokingly. Dudley seemed to be waiting for something to happen as he bit his lip and leaned in close, a smirk on his face.

Harry turned back and stepped onto the first step, and it creaked loudly as he pushed his weight into it.

Harry froze and waited.

Nothing but his heart speeding up happened.

Harry swallowed and pushed up to the second step, and he was greeted with another loud creak, and another, and finally, he was on the porch that seemed to shake as he walked up to the large, chipped door. It had two large knockers, but Harry was too afraid to touch those. He raised a fist to knock instead, his whole arm shaking. He could hear the boys behind him snickering while Piers scolded them to shut up.

After a second’s hesitation, Harry knocked as loudly as he dared on the door, closing his eyes as he did so. He kept them close and waited, drawing his hands in close against him, nearly panting in fear.

Still, nothing happened.

Harry let out a breath of relief and looked back.

“Go inside,” Piers said.

“Two minutes!” Dennis reminded Harry. “Sixty Mississippi’s twice!”

“And don’t forget my trophy,” Dudley said.

Harry bit his cheek as he turned back to the door. His hand shook violently as he reached out for the knob, taking his time to get a good grip on it. He prayed the door was locked, and as he turned the knob, the door clicked open. Harry sucked in a breath, but he frowned as he steeled himself for the experience. It was just an empty house. Just because it was dark didn’t mean it was any different than in the daytime. He would walk in, stand there for two minutes, nothing would happen, then he would grab the closest thing and run. Harry used his foot to nudge the door open further before stepping inside.

Unbeknownst to him, Piers quickly said, “Go, go, go!”

And the four boys took off, even Dudley without a second’s thought, and they left Harry alone to the mercy of the house.

Harry didn’t bother closing the door behind him as he would be out of the house in a quick two minutes anyway. Not that it was open much, as it only let a small amount of moonlight in. He was obviously in a large seating area, but it was too dark to make out too many details besides some furniture, a large dead fireplace, and a grand stairway off to his right. He remained as close to the door as possible as he counted, already at “fifteen Mississippi.”

His heart was drumming away to an upbeat tune while his knees shook under him, and he feared he might fall over if he stayed any longer, but he kept going.

“Eighteen Mississippi, Nineteen Mississippi, Twenty Mississippi, Twenty—”

A loud thump made him jump out of his skin and he stared in the direction it had come from but unable to see what had made the sound. He took several deep breaths before daringly calling out, “Hello?”

Pitter-patter, like small footsteps, echoed through the house before silence met his ears again. Harry hesitated, glancing back at the front door and in the direction of the stairway where the noise was coming from. Without even realizing it, his feet were slowly moving him toward the stairway, cautiously but determined to discover the source of the noise. Harry squinted in the dark room as he came close to the stairway. It was a gran structure the looped around to the upstairs floor, and he rested a hand on the rail as he started climb up the structure. He didn’t see or hear anything more, and the lack of activity gave him courage to keep going.

As he reached the top, he noticed the stairway had a cat statue on either side of the rail, each one in a sitting posture and holding their head up with pride. Harry stared curiously at one of the cats, admiring how lifelike it was.

And then it turned its head to look at him.

“Ahh!” Harry shouted and jumped back.

A breath tickled the back of his neck, and he spun around, backing away as he saw the other “statue” was crouched on the rail in a pounce pose, its head tilted as it blinked bright yellow eyes at him. The other cat was walking along the rail, following Harry’s movements like a panther stalking prey. Harry kept backing away from the cats, moving further down the upstairs hall.

The one cat still sitting on the rail at the top of the stairs jumped down and trotted after Harry, catching up to the boy quickly.

“Nice kitty,” Harry said.

The other cat jumped down from the rail and joined its friend on the ground, and they continued to walk toward Harry, who backed away, unsure of their intentions. He had never dealt with cats before, but he had seen a friend’s cat bite and scratch injuries, and he did not want to end up with any of those.

As he passed a door, he noticed a strange glow coming from behind the door, like a dim light might be illuminating the room. Harry paused as his eyes widened as his brain came up with five million reasons why a light might be on in one of the rooms, and none of them were good. Before he had a chance to plan his next action, the door to the room swung open on its own.

A figure in thick black robes like a vampire cloak appeared in the doorway, holding a smoking cauldron with oven mitts, the smoke fogging around the figure’s pale face, his dark piercing eyes narrowing in on Harry.

Harry screamed.

He turned to run down the hall but both cats arched their backs and hissed at the loud noise he had made, and Harry fell back and scrambled away from the scary animals and the figure. It was true! There was a vampire in the house with potions to shove down kids’ throats before he drank all their blood. It was all true! He had to get out of this house now!

Harry stumbled to his feet and ran down the hall back toward the stairway. Candles were suddenly flaring up, filling the hall with light as he passed them, then the stairway, and then even the living room began to fill with light as Harry ran for the front door.

Just as he reached the door, it slammed shut and locked, and Harry nearly cried at the loud click he heard as he grabbed the knob and pulled frantically.

“No, no, please, let me out!” Harry pleaded, looking back to see the dark figure moving down the stairway, the two black cats following at his heels. Harry screamed loudly. “Help! Help me!”

Harry looked around for another exit somewhere in the large house, and now that he could see, he realized his only escape was locked and the vampire man was getting close to him. Harry backed into a tight space between a sofa and a corner table, sinking down into it and hugging his knees as the dark man continued to approach him, an unreadable expression on the man’s face.

Harry’s eyes teared up as he realized he was at the mercy of this man. He had trespassed on a vampire’s territory and now he would die and disappear like all those other children had before him. He hugged his knees closer and began crying, staring up pleadingly as the man paused in front of his poor hiding place.

“Please don’t suck my blood,” Harry begged.

There was silence as the man studied him for a minute.

“Why in Merlin’s name would I suck your blood?” the man then asked.

Harry shrugged as he kept his eyes fixed on the figure. It was a trick question he was sure of it, an attempt to lure him into a false sense of security and then it would attack him for sure.

One of the black cats jumped up on the arm of the sofa, staring down at him with big eyes before pouncing down on him.

Harry screamed and closed his eyes as the animal landed on his knees.

Then, he felt the cat bump its head against his and rub as it purred loudly.

The noise was calming, almost like a tranquilizer had entered his bloodstream and eased some of the fear away. Harry slowly lifted his head, only to get a face full of hair as the cat rubbed its head all over him. Harry sniffled before reaching up a hand to pet the cat, and it pushed into his hand and purred more. Harry laughed despite himself, feeling a little better about his predicament. He looked over at the figure who was watching them impassively, the other cat weaving back and forth between his legs, purring as well. Suddenly, Harry realized that this man wasn’t a vampire, just the owner of this old house. Sure, he dressed a little funny and weird stuff happened in this house, like floating candles, but the man was human, not a vampire.

“How did you get in here?” the man asked.

“Your door was unlocked,” Harry answered honestly, wiping away his tears with a swipe of the back of his hand before he continued petting the cat.

“So, you trespass into a stranger’s house?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—well, I-I mean, Dudley and the others, they said—I was just—”

“A prank, I suppose, then?” The man snorted softly. “You certainly wouldn’t be the first. Come, I’ll escort you back to your parents. I’m sure they’re frantically looking for you while your friends are having a laugh.”

The man stepped forward and offered a hand to help Harry out of his little safe spot.

“That’s enough, shoo, Boomslang,” the man said, and the cat jumped off Harry and pranced away.

Harry accepted the offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Boomslang immediately returned to rub against Harry’s legs. Harry smiled at the cat, the rest of his fears washing away before he looked up at the man to apologize for trespassing again when he noticed the man’s look. His face was a bit contorted, and he seemed to be staring at something on Harry, maybe his scar?

“Is something wrong?” Harry asked, reaching up to rub at his scar unconsciously.

The man took a minute to answer.

“Nothing at all. Come.”

The dark man opened his front door and directed Harry to exit, and Harry did so. He expected to be kicked off the property and left to his own devices, but instead, the dark figure followed him down the brick path and to the sidewalk on the other side of the gate. The man looked around, as if expecting people to come running to Harry, and he frowned when he saw an empty street. Harry was also surprised to see Dudley and the other boys gone. Maybe they heard his screaming and ran for help?

“Where is your family?” the man asked him.

“Err, I think we were trick-or-treating on that street. My aunt drove us here to join some of Dudley’s friends.”

The man walked Harry toward the street he had pointed to, and Harry gasped when he saw that this street was as empty and dark as the other, decoration lights turned off for the night and children at home and likely in bed. Harry looked around for Petunia’s car, thinking she might have pulled over to wait for Harry, but he did not see it anywhere.

“They left me here?” Harry questioned aloud. He glanced up at the dark figure, who was giving him another odd look. Great, Harry thought, he’s probably starting to think I’m a homeless freak.

“I can walk home,” Harry said. “It’s not that far.”

“You live in Little Whinging,” the man said suddenly.

“How do you know that?” Harry snapped at him, a small spark of fear returning to his chest.

“That’s a twenty-minute drive from here,” the man continued as if knowing where Harry lived was hardly cause for concern. “Which means it might take you an hour to walk home. In the dark. On Halloween night.”

“I’ve walked home in the dark before,” Harry tried to reason.

The man quirked a brow at him.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“You make it sound like being abandoned in unfamiliar neighborhoods is a regular occurrence.”

“Well, if you know where I live, can’t you take me home?”

The man suddenly narrowed his eyes at Harry, and Harry squirmed under his gaze, wondering if he had somehow insulted the man. His eyes were intense and seemed to drill through his school, and Harry had the faintest impression that the man was reading his mind. Was that how he knew where he lived?

“It is not,” the man answered.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” Harry asked, his eyes wide.

“It’s written all over your face. I hardly need to legilimize you to know what you’re thinking. Come.”

The man nodded back toward his house, and Harry froze, his confusion at the word choice forgotten.

“I have to go home. Can’t you take me?”

“I do not have a car. Nor do I know your exact location. And as it stands, you are a child who was just abandoned by his next of kin in unfamiliar territory at a most inappropriate time. That cannot be ignored. I’m afraid I am obligated to report this.”

“No, no.” Harry shook his head. “Please don’t call the police, it’ll make everything worse. You don’t understand.”

The man was quiet for a moment, then said, “I’m afraid I understand far more than you would like me to.”

The man gently grabbed Harry’s upper arm and pulled him back toward the old Forbidden House on the Corner. He dragged Harry over to a plush armchair and pushed Harry down into it with the demand to, “Sit.”

Harry adjusted himself in the seat, then clenched the armrests as the chair rushed forward, moving closer to the fireplace that roared to life, warming the room considerably. Harry didn’t realize how cold he was until the warmth seeped into his skin, and he relaxed, looking around the living room for the first time, really taking in what he was seeing. While the outside of the house was decrepit, the inside was well lived in, with updated furniture, dusted mantles, and freshly painted walls.

Boomslang jumped into Harry’s lap, plopping himself down and purring. Harry chuckled and petted the cat, earning a rump raise and louder purring.

The man returned with a mug of something steaming, and Harry thought back to the potion in the cauldron the man had been carrying earlier.

“Here. To calm your nerves. You’re jumpier than a jack-in-the-box.”

The comment made Harry snort, and he accepted the mug and peered into it. It didn’t look like a gross potion with fingernails, and he hesitantly took a sip. He nearly choked when he realized it was hot chocolate, and there were even marshmallows in it.

“Wow,” Harry whispered, taking another sip of the drink. “This is amazing. I’ve never had hot chocolate before.”

“Never?” the man questioned.

Harry looked up at the man, then flinched when he saw the stick the man was holding above him. Was he about to get a beating? For trespassing? He would deserve it, but the man had been so nice so far, it was the last thing Harry expected. Maybe he could apologize his way out of it, play all the pathetic child moved he knew.

“I’m really sorry, sir,” Harry said, keeping an eye on the stick.

“What for?” the man asked.

“Trespassing. I didn’t mean to; I really didn’t know someone lived here. All the other boys really thought it was haunted and –”

“I know what the kids around this town think, now hush. You’re distracting me.”

Distracting him from whooping Harry, probably. Harry closed his eyes tightly and waited for the pain. But instead, all he felt was an increasing warmth as his clothes dried and all the mud disappeared. Harry stared down at his clothes, feeling them and double checking that he was not hallucinating before looking back up. The man was eyeing him with a strange look again, and Harry blushed at the scrutiny.

“Err, how did you do that?” Harry asked.

The man quirked a brow again.

“Magic,” was all he said.

“Oh.” Magic doesn’t exist, Harry thought, but after everything he had seen that night, he was starting to doubt everything he knew.

“Are those the best clothes you have?” the man asked.

“This is my favorite jumper,” Harry said, ignoring how odd the question sounded. “It fits the best out of anything else I have. I guess it’s my best.”

Boomslang rubbed his head against Harry’s hand, encouraging Harry to pet the cat again.

“Boomslang seems to have taken a liking to you,” the man said. “I’m surprised. He does not usually like strangers. Nor do I.”

Harry winced at that, wondering if the man was subtly hinting at what a huge inconvenience his presence had caused on this man’s plans for the night.

“Sorry, sir,” Harry apologized.

The other cat meowed loudly as she entered the room and rubbed against her owner.

“Now Belladonna is truly a one human only kind of cat,” the man said, smiling at the black cat weaving herself between his feet. “More my speed. You can keep the other one.”

Harry’s head snapped up to look at the man, wondering if he was serious.

“Really?” he asked. “You’re giving me your cat?”

“I find that the cat tends to choose their owner. Boomslang likes you far more than he’s ever liked me. It only seems fair that he stays with you.”

“My aunt isn’t going to let me keep a cat,” Harry said sadly as he kept petting the cat. “I really like him, but I don’t think it’ll work out. Thanks anyway. That’s very kind of you.”

“I hardly think your aunt’s opinion matters here,” the man said. “Especially considering she abandoned you without even taking five minutes to look for you. Finish your drink and settle in, kick your shoes off and relax. You’ve had a long night.”

Harry kicked his shoes off, and the man narrowed his eyes at Harry’s bare feet.

“No socks?”

“They all had holes,” Harry said, rubbing his feet self-consciously.

The man waved his stick again, and Harry resisted flinching when a pair of fuzzy socks appeared in the man’s hands. He blinked at them, watching them shrink before his eyes, then the man handed them to Harry.

“You’ll catch your death roaming this old house barefoot,” he said.

Harry took the socks and put them on, wiggling his toes in their warmth, enjoying the fuzzy, soft feel. Between the socks, the purring cat on his lap, the hot chocolate, and the fire in front of him, Harry had never felt so comfortable and relaxed in his life. He drank more of the hot chocolate, savoring the taste, afraid he may never have something so delicious again.

“We’ll have to buy you more socks,” the man said from somewhere in the house. Harry’s eyes were growing heavy, and he didn’t bother to try and locate the man. This whole situation could be a set up for Harry to fall asleep and then the man would become a vampire and suck his blood, but Harry didn’t care. He was too warm and feeling all sorts of fuzzy inside, much like the socks on his feet. This must be why Dudley enjoyed sitting by the fire drinking hot chocolate. This must be why Aunt Petunia wore furry looking socks all the time. This was bliss, and Boomslang seemed to agree.

“A new wardrobe really,” the man’s voice sounded from right above him. “You can have all the new favorite jumpers you’d like. Ones that fit even better than that one. Move, cat.”

Boomslang was pushed off Harry’s lap and a heavy but soft blanket fell over him, engulfing him in more warmth, and for a minute, he felt too hot, but then the fire died down some, and everything was just right, even when Boomslang jumped back up on his lap and kneaded the blanket before lying back down.

“What are you talking about?” Was all Harry could ask as he blinked blearily up at the strange man staring down at him.

“You look an awful lot like your father,” the man said in a dark tone seemingly out of the blue. This man had known his father. Who was this stranger? Harry felt his glasses removed from his face. He should be terrified now that everything was blurry, but the blanket wrapped snugly around him made him feel very safe, and he squinted at the man moving around him, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“But you have your mother’s eyes.”

He did? Harry never knew that. He wanted to ask so many more questions, but he was having a hard time staying awake. He had been drugged. There was no other explanation. The man had done something to him and was planning on extracting all his fingernails for a potion. He needed to fight this feeling.

“You drugged me,” Harry accused.

Surprisingly, the man chuckled.

“I hardly think hot chocolate and a warm place to sleep can be considered drugged.”

Well, the man had a point. Harry had never experienced this level of comfort before. Was this normal? Was this what it was like to be spoiled like Dudley was? He could get used to this. Maybe there would be time to ask questions tomorrow before he had to leave for his relatives. Maybe he could even visit again. That would be nice. Harry snuggled into the blanket and stared into the flames in front of him, watching them flicker and dance to Boomslang’s rhythmic purr.

“I think I can tolerate one stranger for a while, Harry,” the man whispered in his ear, and Harry could feel the man’s breath on his neck from how close he was, and it caused a shiver to run down his spine. How did this man know his name? He had not once said who he was. And what on earth was he talking about now? A hand carding through his hair startled him and he suddenly realized what the man was getting at as he whispered in his ear once more, “Make yourself at home.”

And Harry felt like he wouldn’t mind this at all. Besides, he had just been abandoned by the one family that could care less about him. He just wanted to know one thing before this comfort dragged him into slumberland.

“What’s your name sir?” Harry asked.

“Severus Snape. Now sleep, Harry.”

As if hypnotized, Harry fell asleep surrounded by a warmth he had never known.