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.