Sinking your Sorrows and Raising your Joys by WiCeBa

“It’s him.” Came a whisper behind Harry.

Harry looked carefully over his shoulder and spied a man with a bristly handlebar mustache leaning closer to the thin man beside him. He plucked at his tatty blue overcoat and pointed toward Harry.

“I think he is, he must be. Look’s just like the description too, black hair and all! I swear I’ve seen—”

“You’re batty, there must be hundreds of dark haired little boy’s in Britain.” The thin man whispered back before his eyes landed on Harry and a shocked look washed over his face.

Harry gasped and tried to pretend he hadn’t been eavesdropping by reaching for Aunt Petunia’s grocery cart, but wound up grasping at air. He twisted around to search for her, but she was nowhere to be found. A dull, miserable feeling trickled through him when he realized she must’ve forgotten to check if Harry had been with her before leaving the aisle.

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d lost him in the grocery store, nor was it likely to be the last.

He could find her though, he was quite good at that. She’d planned on making a meatloaf for dinner this evening, and had already been to the butcher’s counter and sauce aisle. Harry might be lucky enough to catch up with her around the vegetables, but he couldn’t be sure if she needed any.

Vegetables weren’t a staple in their house.

That didn’t bother Harry very much though, he didn’t find them very enjoyable and he was often forced to clean them for Aunt Petunia.

He supposed potatoes weren’t so bad, but he wasn’t very sure if those were vegetables or not.

He shook his head and tried to focus on finding Aunt Petunia before she left. Dudley had been forced to come along on their errand so Harry could at least try to find them by relying on his usual wants. He wondered if finding the store’s bakery would help, as he felt sure Dudley would scream for a treat before they finished their errand.

Harry plunged his fists into the pockets of his windbreaker and inhaled slowly. She couldn’t have been gone long. After all, Harry’d only eavesdropped for a second or two.

He spun on his heel and made for the direction of the bakery.

“Young man!” The thin man waved his arm as he called out before Harry rounded the aisle.

Harry kept walking, as he was sure no good could come about from either of the two men. Aunt Petunia often lectured Dudley about speaking with strangers, and she’d provided enough examples for Harry to be suitably frightened of most anyone who tried to speak with him.

He wasn’t very sure of what to say though. Aunt Petunia warned Dudley about strangers offering him candy, but she’d never said anything about them searching for dark haired kids.

Harry felt all the more frightened that they’d singled him out for his hair. Without Aunt Petunia or Dudley around, they wouldn’t know the rest of Harry’s family was blonde.

They likely wouldn’t want a dark haired kid with blonde family members.

Why hair colour mattered was beyond Harry.

The sound of rushing footsteps echoed from behind and Harry bolted down the soup aisle before stumbling over the laces on his trainers and nearly colliding with a seasoning display. He dove out of the way and landed hard, with his palms catching most of his weight on the linoleum. He quickly picked himself up before shuffling behind the display as the two men hurried down the aisle.

“He’s bloody quick!” The man with the handlebar mustache huffed.

“Do you meet many slow kids?” The thin man asked.

“I’m sure they exist!”

Neither of them looked or sounded particularly dangerous, but Harry supposed anyone who chased kids was at least a little dangerous.

He curled tighter behind the display and froze when his movement gently rattled the cardboard.

Neither of the men had missed the noise, and eagerly turned toward his hiding place.

This could only end badly.

“Oh!” The man with the handlebar mustache started as he caught sight of Harry. His eyes flickered toward Harry’s forehead and his face lit up with excitement. “Hello-er,” Harry tucked tighter against the display and cursed himself for moving at all. “Please don’t be frightened—”

The thin man clicked his tongue. “Don’t be frightened?” He asked in a mocking voice. “Don’t be frightened of the two men who chased you down the aisle?”

“I’m trying my best, I’ve never met a real life celebrity!”

Harry blinked stupidly.

The two men must’ve had him confused with someone else, though he wasn’t sure who. Harry didn’t know of any famous people who were his age.

“We’re a bit star struck is all,” The thin man said in a thick, apologetic voice. “You can hardly blame us,” He jabbed his thumb toward the man with the mustache. “Bill here reckon’s he saw your scar when you came in—”

“Like lightning and all!”

Harry quickly pressed his fringe down on his forehead. He was sure these two were complete nutters and he wished they’d leave him alone. His palms stung from where he’d fallen and he could feel his right knee bleeding onto his jeans.

“The thing is, we just thought we ought to thank you.” The thin man continued. “Seems the right thing to do, you know?”

Harry shook his head ‘no’.

The man with the mustache tossed a look over his shoulder and a pit grew in Harry’s stomach when he realized how empty the aisle was.

The thin man looked as well before inhaling slowly and motioning for his friend to back away.

“You’re probably worried about speaking with strangers, and you should be.” The thin man said with a nod. “It’s good practice, most kids er, most kids your age would be. You’re what,” He squinted and a pinched look came over his face. “Five? It’s been four years since You-Know-Who, so you must be five.” The thin man reasoned.

“I’m seven.” Harry said boldly. He wasn’t sure how the man knew he was five, but it couldn’t have meant anything good. “Seven and a half.” He added for good measure.

The two men shuffled uncomfortably in place.

“You look small for a seven year old.” The man with the mustache said. “Probably, er, probably shouldn’t be alone, seven or not.”

“I’m not!” Harry half shouted as he inched closer to the shelves. “I have—” He paused after realizing Aunt Petunia might’ve already been and gone from the bakery section and his window of opportunity for catching her was rapidly shrinking.

“Look, we’re not normally the charitable sort,” The thin man said when Harry failed to continue his sentence. “But you got us out of a tight spot a few years back and we’re smart enough to pay it forward.”

He slipped a hand into his right pocket and dug through what sounded like thousands of things, though Harry wasn’t sure how it was possible. His pocket looked empty.

“Ah, here we are!” He said brightly before pulling a small bottle free. “I’d say you’re lucky we found you today, but Felix probably knew you’d need him.” He sank down to one knee and rolled the little bottle toward Harry’s hiding place. It bounced off the cardboard display and stopped just short of Harry’s trainers. “I’m not sure what sort of things a five year old would think is lucky, maybe you’ll get to see a train and have an ice cream or something—”

“Take a sip and trust your gut,” The man with the mustache said as he cut his friend off. “If you think you’re in need of a bit of luck.”

He nodded once at Harry before reaching forward and grabbing the thin man’s arm. The two slipped from the aisle almost as quickly as they’d appeared.

Harry slowly crawled from his hiding place and picked the little bottle up. A harmless looking gold liquid glided over the glass and shimmered beneath the harsh fluorescent lighting. He’d half thought the two men might’ve been trying to poison him, like the bad guys he’d seen on the Telly, but he wasn’t so sure anymore. Whether they were kidnappers or not, Harry wasn’t about to swallow a random drink when the two men could spring out from behind the aisles.

If Dudley saw it, he’d certainly try to steal it. What would he say to Aunt Petunia if it turned out to be poisoned then!?

Aunt Petunia!

Harry shoved the bottle into his pocket and swerved around throngs of legs, carts and crying children before finding himself in the near empty bakery section.

It didn’t look as if anyone had come by in a while, but that could mean anything! Dudley might’ve already come and gone, or Aunt Petunia might’ve noticed Harry’s disappearance and was furiously trying to hunt him down while Dudley screamed for a treat.

Harry shuddered at the thought of her finding him while in a fit of anger. He didn’t fancy being snatched up and shouted at when they eventually got into the car. He wasn’t sure Aunt Petunia would even bother to try finding him, as whenever he’d gotten lost in the past, he’d always been the one to find her.

He tried to guess how much time he had left to make another plan.

She’d nearly completed her shopping when the two men had begun whispering though, for all he knew, she’d finished paying and was loading the car up.

He spun around and quickly ran out the exit.

A frigid burst of wind caught him in the face, but he shook it off as he searched over the car park. He knew what Uncle Vernon’s car looked like, as he’d just begun learning how to properly wash it.

It couldn’t have been very hard to find it.

It was shiny, grey and reminded Harry of the flat faced pug that lived in the neighbours house across the street.

Why Uncle Vernon felt it was a nice looking car was beyond Harry, but according to him, Harry only needed to know that Grunning’s had paid for it and a sign of gratitude was keeping it clean.

‘Why don’t you clean it then?’ Harry’d asked as the hose dribbled cold water over his shoes.

‘Because I’ve earned it and you, boy, have more cause to be thankful than most! This company pays for your clothes! I’d be more grateful if I was in your position.’ Uncle Vernon’d said with a nasty look in his eye. ‘We’ve taken you in without complaint, I should like to see some thank’s for it.’

Harry supposed he should be a bit more thankful for his uncle’s job, though he’d be more grateful if he didn’t have to wear Dudley’s cast-offs and if he had a nicer cot in his cupboard. He’d have probably started being actively helpful if they moved him to the second bedroom as well.

He wouldn’t ask for a lot, but he felt he deserved that much.

He shook his head and ran the length of the car park as he searched carefully for Uncle Vernon’s car, but couldn’t find it anywhere. There was always the chance Aunt Petunia already loaded it up and now loitered near the entrance in case Harry’d waited for her there, but Harry realized that was increasingly unlikely.

Despite his effort he’d need to accept he’d been forgotten.

The urge to cry bubbled through him, but he determinedly tried to stamp it out. He’d been left at a park once before, and found his way home. The grocery store would be no different.

He just needed to get on with it. He jammed his fists into his pockets and flinched when his knuckles hit the small bottle the two men had given him.

While Harry’d been frightened of the two men in the store, he couldn’t say he felt the same at the moment. The two must’ve been long gone, and no one dangerous looking lingered in the car park, aside from a few mean looking kids.

They didn’t seem likely to bully Harry though, not with the parents so close by.

One of the men had said to drink it for a bit of luck, hadn’t they? Harry could honestly say he needed some at the moment too. He didn’t have much experience with magic potions, which he could only assume the little bottle was, or anything like them, aside from when he listened to Dudley’s bedtime stories.

Harry particularly liked stories with magic, though Aunt Petunia hated them, and rarely read them, even if Dudley picked them out.

‘Magic isn’t real!’ She’d said, as if it were a ridiculous notion to believe in the first place. ‘How about this nice one Diddy, it’s about Pirates!’

Harry often made up his own very magical bedtime stories as a silent form of revenge. All sorts of magical things happened in his stories, and they often included old men with pointed hats and great big men on motorbikes! He liked to imagine all sorts of things could fly as well, like motorbikes, cars and bicycles.

He pulled the stopper on the bottle and hoped what was inside wouldn’t kill him as he swallowed back the magical potion.

Aside from a fizzy aftertaste, nothing seemed to happen. Harry quite liked it’s fizziness too, as he never got to drink any of Dudley’s fizzy drinks, despite how often he tried to steal one. He didn’t feel any different either, aside from a tingling in his stomach.

He hoped again that it wasn’t poison.

It would be very difficult to get back to find his family if it was.

Harry sighed and looked around as he tried to come up with a solution, before spotting several people and a group of children lingering in a haphazard queue. Most of them had varying amounts of groceries either in hand or lumped together on the ground nearby. He wondered idly what they were doing before a fizzy feeling bubbled through him and he excitedly realized they were waiting for the bus.

He ran toward it as a plan formed in his mind. He could easily take that home. He wasn’t sure about what route would take him to his stop, but he was positive he’d know it when he saw it. Perhaps the bus driver would be kind enough to let him ride for free, though Harry wasn’t sure, as Aunt Petunia had made more than one nasty remark to bus drivers about booting freeloaders from their seats. Harry wondered if he might be able to slip onto the bus unnoticed with the children though. It seemed unlikely to work unless the bus came quickly, as whoever was in charge was sure to notice one too many kids in their group.

In an odd stroke of luck, the bus appeared over the hill almost as if it knew how desperately Harry needed it.

“There’s the bus now,” Said a woman Harry presumed to be in charge. She crowded the group toward the curb. “Bits and bobs off the ground, buddy system please.” She added as the bus squealed to a stop before them. Harry hoped Aunt Petunia hadn’t waited for him, he’d be in a world of trouble if she had. She’d never gone looking for him in the past though, so why would Harry assume she would this time?

He fell into step behind a tall boy in a brown blazer and hoped he went overlooked. His windbreaker was nearly the same colour, though it was hardly the same fabric.

Despite his fears, no one noticed anything.

“Go on and pass these out now, Mr Chambers.” The woman in charge said as she unzipped her backpack and tugged out several bags of tangerines and grapes. “It’s a bit of a ride, so settle in. I won’t have a repeat of Epsom, so you’d all better be on your best behaviour.” She said before pulling out a scratched Walkman and settling the headphones over her head.

No one had given him a curious look yet, for which Harry was thankful, but equally confused over.

He knelt on his seat and tossed a look over the odd collection of students. They chattered and introduced themselves in turn, making Harry wonder if they might be closer to a club, or study group?

Maybe that was why no one had questioned his sudden appearance?

Harry wondered idly about where the student’s were headed and what happened in Epsom before a sandy haired boy dropped a tangerine into his hand.

He blinked hungrily at it for half a second before peeling it and eating it as quickly as he could. He didn’t think he could be much luckier, as he hadn’t had a chance to have lunch yet, and he’d only gotten a bit of toast for breakfast before getting to school. That’d been hours ago. Aunt Petunia’d been put out about having to collect them for a half-day of class as well, but she'd promised Harry could have some soup when he got home, so Harry could at least look forward to that.

The tangerine was doing wonders for him already though.

“Excuse me,” A girl with coiled plaits appeared over the back of the seat in front of Harry. “Did either of you bring your workbook?” She asked before leaning down and whispering something to whoever sat next to her. A second girl appeared and the one with plaits pointed toward her. “Victoria’s forgotten her’s, but we thought we could copy the questions before Miss Williams noticed.”

The boy next to Harry nodded and pulled a book with a dinosaur on the cover from his backpack and passed it over.

“You neither?” Victoria asked when Harry shook his head ‘no’.

Harry hoped none of them asked him questions about their assignments, as he’d only begun Year One a few months ago and these students looked to be in Year Two or Three. He could hardly write his letters, and his reading wasn’t the best. His teacher had mentioned once or twice that it might have to do with his glasses, but Aunt Petunia thought it had more to do with Harry’s tendency to daydream instead of focusing.

“That’s ok, you can copy after me if you like, if he doesn’t mind, I mean?” Victoria said with a nod toward the boy next to Harry before disappearing behind the seat.

Despite Harry’s shock, he became quick friends with the kids sitting beside him, and even was able to share another snack with them, while learning about their trip to the natural history museum. He rarely enjoyed such luck, as Dudley often bullied anyone who spoke to Harry, or told them all sorts of nasty things to make them not want to play with him.

He wondered idly which museum they were going to, and tried to remember the surroundings so he’d be able to find his way back when he was a bit older.

The bus ride was quite a bit longer than he remembered, but he assumed that had more to do with his having to check each stop, rather than waiting until Aunt Petunia tugged him from his seat when it was time to leave.

“I’m excited to see the geodes.” Victoria said. “My mum told me they sell some in the gift shop as well.”

“They do!” Said the girl with coiled plaits, Harry hadn’t caught her name, nor the one of the boy beside him, but he felt they’d think he was odd if he asked now. “My sister bought one when she came and my dad broke his hammer trying to get it open.”

“That’s ridiculous,” The boy next to him said. “Your Dad’s hammer mustn’t have been very good.”

The girl with the plaits wrinkled her nose in a good natured way. “Well, lets buy one today and you can see for yourself, how’s that?” She asked.

Harry nodded excitedly, before remembering that he ought to find his way to the Dursley’s before getting too caught up in his new friends adventures. He wished he could go to the museum with them, though he supposed it would be rather odd for him to tag along when he had no pencils or paper.

The woman who Harry now knew as Miss Williams, tugged her headphones off and sat up. “Alright Year Two, pack up your things, our stop is next.” She said as she unzipped her bum bag and tugged out what looked like a folded street map.

Harry blinked excitedly at it and wondered if he might be able to borrow it, as he knew the area around Little Whinging quite well.

The kids chattered excitedly as the bus came to a stop and they climbed off in a flurry of movement.

Harry stepped off the bus and the city exploded with noise and activity, bustling around him without a second thought. He wasn’t sure if he’d been to this street in Surrey, as he couldn’t remember ever being somewhere so busy before. The buildings were far taller than he was used to as well, in fact he wondered if they looked more like the sky scrapers he’d seen on the Telly!

“Neat lines now, fix your blazer Miss Grey.” Miss Williams said as she rounded her students up and led them toward a massive building. Harry thought about trying to snatch Miss Williams's map, but he didn’t think he could get close enough without her noticing him and he wound up splitting from their group as they passed a large sign of a dinosaur.

He gave a cursory look around and tried to guess which street they were on, but it all looked very unfamiliar. He twisted again and looked up at the massive building the school kids had gone into. It took Harry nearly a minute before he noticed it had a name and he squinted as he sounded it out.

“Natur-al His—history Museum of Lon-don!” He finished with a feeling of satisfaction for having sounded it out before horror shot through him. “London!” He shrieked!

This was terrible! Aunt Petunia was going to have a fit! Harry wouldn’t be out of his cupboard for days if he didn’t find his way back to Surrey in the next minute!

He gave himself a full minute to panic before a voice echoed in the back of his mind and reminded him that the magic potion was about trusting his gut. Harry couldn’t guess if it was really working as he’d wound up in London, but he’d had one of the luckiest days already. He’d gotten to have two snacks and meet some kids his own age, they even liked him!

By all accounts, he’d had more luck lately than ever before.

He inhaled slowly and tried to listen to his gut like the man with the mustache had suggested.

It didn’t seem like his gut wanted very much at the moment, in fact, his gut mostly wanted him to stay exactly where he was.

Maybe that was Harry impeding his own luck though. He searched the street while he waited and spied a phone booth, where he briefly entertained the idea of calling Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon, but even then, he didn’t have any spare change to operate it, nor did he think he was tall enough to reach the receiver.

Harry sighed and tried to consider his options.

It was very likely he’d caused himself this trouble by believing in magical potions and thinking he’d get even a drop of luck.

Aunt Petunia mentioned far too often that magic, and anything resembling it, didn’t exist. He knew himself well enough. He should’ve been prepared for total failure whenever he was involved, even if he’d really enjoyed having a snack and meeting those kids.

He debated sitting on the curb and waiting until the next bus came, though he didn’t know when or if it’d be able to take him to the Dursleys.

“Are you lost?” Asked a pimply man in a neat green uniform. He sniffed and settled his hands onto his hips. “I thought I saw all the student’s into the museum, but this wouldn’t be the first time I’d missed one, sneaky things, you lot are. Coming into London to mess about—”

“I’m not lost.” Harry said quickly. His magic potion began to bubble in his stomach again and he felt the oddest urge come over him. “I need to get to Charing Cross is all.” He wasn’t sure why he picked that station, though he remembered hearing its name several times from the big book of trains Dudley often forced Aunt Petunia to read.

The man blinked dumbly at him. “You look too young to be out alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’m meeting my grandad.” Harry said on the spot. He wasn’t sure why that was the thing to say, but if he was trusting his gut, he might as well lean into it. “His name’s Bill.”

“Yeah, well Bill shouldn’t let kids wander on their own. A city isn’t a daycare, especially this one. You’re twenty minutes out of Charing Cross. Did Bill give you some cash to ride the bus, or did you spend it all on sweets and other things kids slobber over?”

Harry shrugged and shivered slightly beneath his windbreaker.

“How am I always the one suckered into these things? You’re lucky I just got paid, you know that?” The man mumbled and dug through the pockets of his neatly pressed trousers. “Tell Bill to pay it forward, alright?” He added before pulling out a fiver. “This oughta get you where you gotta go, and don’t go spending it on anything but the bus!”

Harry nodded and pocketed the cash before being pointed in the direction of the bus.

“Get on and ask for Charing Cross, nothing else!” The man yelled as Harry rounded the corner. He quickly saw another bus approaching and ran toward it before it could pass him over. He wasn’t sure why his luck wanted him to go to Charing Cross, but maybe that station had the correct bus?

Harry quite enjoyed his next bus ride, as he was able to quietly sit next to the window and watch everything pass him by, whereas he’d normally have to put up with Dudley’s taunts.

It was significantly more pleasant to see the parks, fountains and people without being punched or having his hair pulled. He quite enjoyed when the bus waited at a light and he was able to watch a bit of a magic show being performed on the street.

Aunt Petunia would’ve shrieked if she’d so much as heard the word ‘magician’!

His stop came up sooner than he’d anticipated and he found himself standing outside of a massive train station. He wasn’t sure why his magic potion wanted him here, but he didn’t have much time to wonder about it, as the bubbly feeling erupted when he looked left. He searched up and down the street, idly looking over the large ads for perfume and movies, and other things Harry assumed ads sold until he smacked into a tall black shape.

He tipped and almost fell backwards before something caught his sleeve. He silently thanked his luck for keeping him upright, as his palms and knee still stung from when he’d fallen earlier.

“Watch where you’re going.” The black shape said sharply.

“Sorry!” Harry squeaked. He looked right and thought about sprinting down the street, but his bubbly luck didn’t appear to want him to. If anything it seemed to think the black shape was precisely where he needed to be.

The black shape leant back and Harry realized it was actually a very, very tall man wearing a trench coat. He had a crooked nose and looked as if he often smelled distasteful things.

The man’s eyes narrowed on Harry’s face and he looked oddly as if he recognized him. Harry couldn’t guess how that was possible, but he supposed the two men from the grocery store had somehow known him, so maybe this man was their friend?

His grip tightened on Harry’s sleeve. “What—”

“I have to—” Harry started, quite prepared for the bubbly feeling to take over, but it never came.

The tall man raised a thin eyebrow. “You have to, what?”

“Erm,” Harry blinked. “I have to-to find Charing Cross?” He said, trying to look as knowledgeable as he could. “The erm, the train station?”

“Are you asking me what you need to find?” The man asked.

Harry wished desperately for the bubbly feeling to take over, but it was determined to leave him to come up with something on his own, which Harry knew was a dreadful plan, in his personal experience.

The man inhaled slowly before leading Harry into a far less busy alley. He lowered himself down to one knee, but was somehow still very tall.

Harry blinked at the trash and mud on the ground and wondered if that bothered the man at all, because it bothered Aunt Petunia tremendously whenever she was forced to kneel and re-tie Harry laces. She far preferred to do them in the house, if she did them at all.

Harry felt quite proud to have figured out how to tie them on his own after weeks of practice.

“Did you sneak out of your house?” He asked coldly.

He sounded almost as if he wanted to yell at Harry for having been forgotten.

“No!” Harry said worriedly. The bubbly feeling burst through him and flooded his thoughts so quickly that he hardly thought to keep his mouth shut. “My aunt forgot me at the grocery store. I’ve been trying to find her, but I think she drove home without me, so I took the bus! I thought I knew which stop was mine, but then I must’ve gotten on the wrong bus!”

“Stop! Stop talking.” The man said as he held his hand up. “You daft thing! Hasn’t anyone taught you not to talk to strangers?” He asked as he gently shook Harry by his arm. “What if I were someone who meant to hurt you? You’ve just told me you’re alone in a massive city with no one here to find you!”

“The bubbly luck drink told me you’d be alright.” Harry said before he could stop himself.

The tall man blanched. “The what?!”

“The bubbly—”

“Who in their right mind gave you that!” He asked. “What did it look like?”

Harry pulled out the small bottle for the man to see, though he almost regretted having drank it, because this man didn’t seem half as nice as the other people Harry’d met today.

“Charming, an empty, unlabeled bottle.” The man said in an obvious tone. “Did it have a colour, or descriptor? Are you so thick you’ll drink anything a stranger hands you?”

“I’m not thick!” Harry said fiercely. “My aunt forgot me and the man said to drink it if I needed a bit of luck!” He said, feeling more upset by the second. “All I wanted was to find my aunt before she left and that didn’t even happen!”

The tall man ran a hand over his face and groaned. “Fine. What’s your name.” He asked. His eyes flickered toward Harry’s scar and lingered for a second longer than was typical. He reminded Harry of the men from the grocery store, and just like them, he probably already knew how old Harry was too.

Harry flattened his fringe to his forehead. “I’m not telling you,” He said as he looked around and wondered why no one had stopped to talk with them, despite the two looking very odd, in Harry’s opinion. “What if you want to hurt me?”

The tall man scrunched his eyes shut and inhaled deeply before reopening them. “I’m pleased you’ve managed to retain even an iota of what I said, but we’re a bit past that now.”

Harry shook his head ‘no’. “I dunno know what iota means.”

“My name is Severus.” The tall man said without explaining what the word meant. “And you are?”

Harry squinted at the man for a brief moment and wondered if the bubbly feeling had lost the plot. The man hadn’t been necessarily mean to Harry, but he hadn’t been very kind either.

It wanted for Harry to answer him though.

“Harry.”

“What a pleasure.” Severus said with a grimace. “Now, would you calmly explain how you came to find the Leaky Cauldron?”

“The what?” Harry asked as he looked around. He was sure he hadn’t seen any cauldrons, though he couldn’t be too sure because he didn’t know what they looked like. In his mind, he imagined Aunt Petunia’s stew pot, but he felt that wasn’t quite right.

Severus let go of Harry’s sleeve, rose to his feet and stepped to the mouth of the alley.

He waited for Harry to catch up before pointing to the sign nearly a block away. Harry’s glasses weren’t fantastic at clarifying things over a long distance, but he slowly managed to sound out the words.

He was led back into the quiet alley before he looked back toward Severus. “I dunno.” He said with a shrug. “I was looking for Aunt Petunia.”

“You drank it and thought of finding your, aunt,” Severus repeated in a slow deliberate way. “Petunia.”

Harry blinked and opened his mouth, but Severus beat him to it.

“And instead, you found your way here.”

“Right.” Harry nodded. “Cause I got on the wrong bus and—”

Severus held his hand up again. “That,” He paused and seemed to struggle to find the right word. “Drink,” He finally said. “Has several very specific properties, one of which is that whomsoever imbibes it will find all of their endeavors succeed.”

Harry shook his head at most of the words. He wasn’t sure if Severus spent much time around kids, though Harry didn’t really spend much time around them either.

He would’ve liked to, that much was true.

“What did you want to do the second after you drank it?” Severus asked after a moment.

“Well, erm,” Harry blinked and shivered as he thought back to the chilly car park. “I really did just want to find my family. And not get in trouble, and maybe ride a flying motorbike, or bicycle. I don’t have a bicycle, Dudley has one but—”

“One thing at a time.” Severus said before pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing slowly.

“I didn’t want to get in trouble if Aunt Petunia had to come back for me.” Harry said dully. The bubbly feeling trickled through him, though Harry disliked it, as he was reminded rather harshly about the difference between himself and Dudley.

“Is it possible you just missed her?” Severus asked.

Harry shook his head ‘no’. “She’s forgotten me before. I found my way home last time.”

“Had she been worried when you arrived?” Severus asked as he held his hands aloft in a questioning wave. He acted as if he had quite a bit of experience with parents. “Frightened, perhaps?”

“She said it was my own fault for not paying attention.” Harry said, parroting Aunt Petunia’s words. He didn’t find this part of their conversation as fun as he’d found the rest of his luck. Everything else had been much nicer, with his having a snack and meeting kids who genuinely seemed to like him.

“I somehow doubt it was solely your fault.” Severus said in an awkward voice. “It’s not always a child’s fault they’ve been missed.”

Harry blinked at the dirty cobblestones and wished he hadn’t tried the magical potion. He wished those two strange men hadn’t shown up and chased him. He wished he’d just hung into the cart, even if Dudley had pinched his fingers whenever he came close. He wished Aunt Petunia had let him ride in the cart, like she had Dudley.

If Harry’d been in the cart, none of this could’ve happened. He would’ve kept his mouth shut, even if Dudley hit him or tugged on his hair.

“Now,” Severus said in an uncomfortable voice. “There’s no need to be upset.”

Harry wondered if Severus didn’t often comfort crying children. He looked almost more uncomfortable than he sounded.

“I’m not.” Harry sniffled. He rubbed his sore palms over his eyes and hoped Severus didn’t call him a liar. Harry was sure he wasn’t upset, because he had nothing to be upset about. In the past, Aunt Petunia had been very clear about Harry’s faults, and this had clearly been his fault.

Long fingers gently pulled at his hands and turned them over. Harry blinked through his tears to find Severus giving his palms a concerned look. His eyes slowly trailed over Harry, stopping briefly on his windbreaker and dirty jeans.

“I didn’t see her leave and I tried to find her, but she was gone.” Harry said.

“By your own logic, you did all you could.” Severus said softly. “What could you have done differently?” He let go of Harry’s hands and sank a bit lower, meeting Harry’s gaze head on.

Harry paused and rubbed at his eyes once more. “Erm, maybe, I could’ve found some help, but—”

Severus nodded and waited patiently for Harry to continue, which Harry found odd. He wasn’t used to having a moment to think about his answers.

“But Aunt Petunia would be angry if someone called her to the front of the store for me.” Harry said. She wouldn’t have just been angry, she’d have been furious. Harry was already looking at spending several days in his cupboard, if he’d called for her, he might be spending a week there. “She’d have been really nice to whoever called her, but she’d have been angry with me for making a scene.”

“I should think she’d be making a scene, seeing as her nephew had been missing before then.”

Harry shook his head. “That’s not how she’d see it.”

“What’s the worst that would’ve happened then?” Severus asked in a soft voice. “If you’d found help?”

“Well, she wouldn’t have let me eat when we got home.” Harry said. He didn’t fancy explaining everything to Severus, but aside from when Harry’d bumped into him, he’d been quite calm, and he asked helpful questions. His bubbly luck pushed him to answer as well, despite how Harry felt. “She’d probably have told Uncle Vernon, and then I wouldn’t have been let out of my—'' He was distinctly aware that normal children didn’t sleep in cupboards. Aunt Petunia made it glaringly apparent. She gave Harry loads of reasons for why he stayed there as well, ranging from Harry’s inability to tidy up after himself to the madness he might create if he had so much space to himself. Harry didn’t think of himself as untidy, though Uncle Vernon called Harry untidy every other day. “Room.” He finished blandly.

Severus raised an eyebrow again. Harry couldn’t tell if he’d liked his answer or not. “No supper and being sent to your room may be a bit strict, but you said you’ve found your way home alone before, is it possible this was a deterrent from the previous outcome?”

“What’s deterrent?” Harry asked.

“The act of discouraging misbehaviour with punishment.”

“Oh.” Harry said curiously. “I dunno then,” He said as he shuffled in place. “It’s the same punishment for everything.” The bubbly feeling fizzled through him once more. “It’s sorta just how my aunt and uncle are. It’s normal for some things, like when I pushed Dudley.”

Severus clicked his tongue. “Bullying your cousin, are you?”

“No!” Harry snapped. “I only pushed him once. He hits me all the time, I just wanted him to stop.”

Severus closed his eyes and gave an odd shiver before he looked down again. “Apologies, Harry. Continue your explanation.” He said.

Harry blinked and tried to remember if anyone had ever apologized to him before. He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe Mrs Figg had once, but it’d probably been over something truly accidental, like if one of her cats had scratched him.

“Erm, well they always use that as a derrant.” Harry said, remembered the word at the last second.

“Deterrent.” Severus repeated in a slow, clear voice.

“Deterrent.” Harry nodded. “They use it for normal stuff, like I said, but for everything else too. Like when I forget to empty the bins or fold the towels.”

“Do you often forget them?” Severus asked curiously.

“No, I do them all the time.” Harry said with a sharp look. He disliked the route his bubbly feeling had taken him on, but he’d make sure Severus knew he wasn’t a slacker. “But they always keep food from me. I forgot the bin in Dudley’s room the other day and I didn’t get anything all day.”

“Dudley doesn’t empty his own bins?” Severus asked with a sneer.

Harry shook his head ‘no’. “It’d get in the way of his Telly time.” He said. “Or his homework time, but he doesn’t really spend a lot of time on his homework at home anyway.”

Severus sighed and his eyebrows furrowed. “Now, when you swallowed that drink,” He began. “You wanted to find your family. That’s what you endeavored to do.”

“What’s endeavored?”

“It means an act you try very hard to succeed at.”

“Oh,” Harry said before nodding. “Yes, I wanted to find them.”

“Let’s see if we can’t find our way to your aunt’s house then.” Severus said as he stood. A thin black stick dropped out of his sleeve.

“What’s that!” Harry asked excitedly.

Severus blinked once at Harry. “It’s a wand.” He said in an obvious tone. “Through which, magic is performed.”

“What!?” Harry asked as he peered closely at it. “Where did you get it? From a witch?”

“From a wizard, actually.” Severus said as he held it up for Harry to see. “You’ll get one when you’re eleven, or has your aunt neglected to help you with that as well?”

Harry stared at the wand for several more seconds while his brain made slow, stupid circle around what Severus had just said. The bubbly feeling rushed through him once more and Harry realized what sort of luck he’d truly been granted today.

“She has, I take it?” Severus said, though he phrased it like a question, Harry somehow felt it wasn’t one.

“Does she know about magic?” Harry asked.

Severus stiffened and Harry almost wished he hadn’t asked. In his defense, Severus spoke about it as though Aunt Petunia must’ve known.

“Is it really?” Harry asked after realizing he’d best change the conversation. He didn’t think he could handle it if this was all a strange dream and he was actually asleep in his cupboard. “Is it really a wand that you got from a wizard?”

A curious look flickered over Severus’s face and he knelt back onto the ground. “Yes, it truly is a wand, just as you truly are a wizard.” He added before letting Harry look a little closer, though he pulled it back before he was able to touch it. “Having magic is not a deformity, a word which means not normal.”

He liked that Severus explained what he’d said so easily, because neither Aunt Petunia nor Uncle Vernon had ever helped Harry understand what they’d said.

“So,” Harry paused. “It-it’s normal then?”

Severus nodded. “Very normal.”

Harry wished quite suddenly that Severus would tell Aunt Petunia. She would never believe Harry if he told her that other people thought of magic as a normal thing. “Can you show me something?” He asked.

He wasn’t sure if that was the sort of thing people could ask for, but Harry hadn’t ever met a wizard before, so he wasn’t sure how to act.

“I suppose, if you truly want to see.” Severus nodded.

Harry nodded wildly. He had a feeling Severus didn’t often do magic just for the fun of it and he tried to reign in his excitement, but it was rather difficult. It wasn’t very often that someone offered to show Harry magic, in fact it’d never happened before.

Severus flicked his wand in a smooth movement and Harry jerked as his windbreaker shivered on his shoulders and was transformed into a thick, warm coat.

It was far softer than anything Harry was used to, and thick as well. He gently touched the fabric, unsure if it was actually real.

Severus slowly reached down toward Harry and silently asked for his hand.

Harry held it up quickly and flinched when a tingle ran over his palm. He pulled it back and searched it over after excitedly realizing that it no longer hurt. Less than a second later, his left hand felt equally painless, as did his knee.

The small blood stain lingered, but Harry wasn’t bothered by that.

Severus looked as if he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it. Harry couldn’t guess why, but a strangely guilty look flickered across his face. If anything, he felt Severus should feel great, because he’d made Harry feel great!

“And you think I’m a wizard?” Harry asked when it seemed Severus wouldn’t speak.

“I’m sure you are.” Severus said. “You look rather like a few people I knew, relations certainly, though I am not the person to tell you that story, perhaps at a different time.”

“Did my luck just not work then?” Harry asked. “I didn’t find my family, just someone who might’ve known them?”

He supposed that made sense, he’d already been far too lucky. Discovering he was magical was almost unbelievable, having found the family his luck wanted would’ve been truly unbelievable.

Severus frowned. “You’re far luckier than you think, for had you bumped into me on any other day, I doubt our interaction we’d had would’ve gone so smoothly.” He said softly. “And you’re luckier still that I’m qualified to perform house visits on muggles, a word which means a non-magical person.”

Harry whispered the word beneath his breath. “Is Aunt Petunia a muggle?” He asked.

“Decidedly.” Severus answered.

“And Dudley and Uncle Vernon?”

“I cannot speak to your cousin, but your uncle, yes.”

Harry hummed and almost wished for his aunt or uncle to be magical, as he was sure it’d make them less obsessed with hating magic.

They wound up discussing several branches of magic, which Harry learnt was a term meaning something like sections, as well as Hogwarts, the school where Harry’d learn magic just as his parents had, before they found themselves in Little Whinging. He’d nearly exploded with questions when he discovered that Severus truly had known Harry’s parents, but he hadn’t been able to answer any of Harry’s more pressing questions, despite how he tried.

He’d only been able to promise Harry that they’d loved him very much.

Worry grew in Harry’s stomach as they neared Privet Drive. He felt sure his bubbly luck would come up with something to make the interaction go smoothly, though he couldn’t guess what might happen. He could never have guessed how his day would’ve gone just by judging his afternoon.

He spotted Uncle Vernon’s car in the driveway and wondered if he really had just missed it when he’d tried finding it at the store. It didn’t look any worse for wear.

Actually, nothing looked out of the ordinary. Aunt Petunia’s flowerbeds were in the same perfect condition they’d been in when Harry’d left this morning, though it did look as if Dudley’d been and gone. His sidewalk chalk was scattered over the lawn and half coloured superheroes littered the pavement.

Severus rang the doorbell and Harry tensed as a strong sense of nervousness rushed through him.

They heard a few things knock about from inside the house before the lock clicked and the door swung open to reveal Aunt Petunia.

Harry wondered if she’d tried to search for him, because it didn’t look like she’d been overly bothered. Her apron was stained with what might’ve been brown sauce and she was rubbing her hands on a dirty tea towel.

“Tuney.” Severus said with a raised eyebrow.

Harry jerked upwards and wondered how Severus knew Aunt Petunia’s nickname? He’d only ever heard Uncle Vernon say it, and even then it wasn’t often. He far preferred to call her ‘Pet’.

“You’d never believe the day I’ve had—”

Aunt Petunia moved to slam the door shut, but Severus flicked his wand and the door jerked to a stop. It looked impossible to move, or at least Aunt Petunia made it appear that way.

“Go away.” Aunt Petunia said coldly.

Harry pushed closer to Severus for fear that she’d notice him and accuse him of bringing someone she apparently hated to her house.

“How did you even find this address?”

“The school has it on file.” Severus said. “Seeing as Harry here, will eventually attend it.”

Harry swallowed heavily and slipped behind Severus’s long black coat.

Aunt Petunia looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon. Her eyes dropped down to Harry’s height and her face only grew more pinched.

“I tried,” Harry said before coughing around his dry throat. “I tried to find you.”

“Isn’t he lucky? He found me instead.” Severus said. “He’s raised a rather interesting line of concerns in the last hour, and I’d like to address a few of them with you.”

“Write Dumbledore,” Aunt Petunia said. “I won’t have you trailing mud on my carpet.”

Harry wondered who Dumbledore was and if that was who’d given Severus his wand.

Severus tossed a sour look towards Aunt Petunia. “Any mud I track can easily be cleaned,” He said before dangling his wand between his fingertips. “Any good opinion on your child rearing however, cannot.”

Harry tried to pick his way through Severus’s complicated sentence, but gave up when he started talking again.

“Did you at least attempt to find him?” He asked as he tilted his nose upward.

“Of course I did.” Aunt Petunia snapped. “I waited an extra ten minutes at the checkout and another five in the car!”

“Fifteen extra minutes for a five year old.” Severus said cooly. “Generous.”

“Keep your big nose out of our business.” Aunt Petunia sneered and flapped her tea towel at Harry. “He found his way back, didn’t he? I knew he would.” She snapped her fingers at Harry, who jerked and very nearly ran into the house.

The bubbly feeling pushed him to grab Severus’s hand instead.

Severus flinched, though he didn’t wrench his hand from Harry’s, instead sighed and gave Aunt Petunia a firm look.

“I can’t let you watch him without having checked if the house is safe for child—”

“Keep him then.” She hissed before spinning on her heel and storming down the hallway. “If you really care, send Dumbledore to do a check, but I won’t have you in my house. Until then, he’s yours.” She said over her shoulder.

Harry was positive his luck had run out and now began to plunge full steam ahead into horrible unluckiness.

Where would he live without his family? He didn’t realize how easily she could drop him, and how little she truly wanted him.

He swallowed back a lump in his throat.

Severus flicked his wand and the door squeaked as it slid on it’s hinges. “Do you have a change of clothing you can collect?” He asked in a quiet voice. “I shudder to imagine what living conditions you experienced if your luck wound up removing you from your aunt’s house.”

Several tears trailed down Harry’s face when he realized that Aunt Petunia had truly meant for him to leave.

He knew she didn’t love him, but he’d hoped she cared just a little about him.

A large hand gently nudged Harry forward.

“Grab a few of your things, I’ll wait here.” Severus said.

Harry pushed the door open before slipping down the tidy hallway and into his cupboard. He could hear the Telly playing a loud commercial for washing up liquid and wondered if either Dudley or Uncle Vernon had asked where Harry was.

He didn’t think they’d asked the last time Harry’d gotten lost.

He tossed a few hand-me-downs into his backpack as well as his homework, workbook, and school uniform. The small space felt oddly uncomfortable as he stood in it. He didn’t think he’d ever felt that way about it before, as he’d grown up in it. He knew each crooked corner as well as where he could hide snacks and broken toys or crayons. His bubbly luck didn’t seem to feel the same way as Harry did, as it pointed Harry towards the nest of spiders above his head and the chemicals and cleaning products on the shelves.

Those had always been in the cupboard though, and weren’t strange enough to make Harry feel as uncomfortable as the bubbles wanted.

Harry twisted back around and made his way back on the stoop.

Severus hadn’t moved except to pace a bit. He gave Harry’s backpack a distasteful side eye before offering to shrink it as soon as they weren’t surrounded by muggles. “We’re going to need to apparate.” He said moments later. “Which has the closest meaning to the muggle word, teleport.”

Harry couldn’t guess what teleport meant, but he was far less interested in learning new words than a few minutes ago. He wished again that he’d wanted to find his uncle’s car, or searched harder for the grocery cart, when he’d drank the magic potion, rather than wanting to find his family.

Severus’s hand appeared before him and Harry grabbed hold before he was led to a quiet alley near Mrs Figg’s house.

“Apparating will be unpleasant, you’ll feel as if you’ve been sucked through an extremely thin tube, but rest assured that you will be completely fine afterwards.” Severus said as he shrunk Harry’s backpack with a wave of his wand.

Harry nodded weakly.

Severus paused and watched Harry for a long moment. “It may be easier, if I hold you.” He said softly. “Though if you dislike that idea, say so.”

Harry shrugged but truthfully wasn’t sure which way he felt about being carried. The bubbly feeling fizzled through him and encouraged him toward it, but Harry could only imagine all the times he’d seen Dudley and Aunt Petunia argue after she’d tried to carry him. They both clearly loved it, but either Dudley squirmed too much or Aunt Petunia wanted to look at things Dudley had no interest in.

A soft sound whispered past Harry’s ears and he found himself carefully held Severus’s arms. It wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as when Aunt Petunia picked Harry up, or as terrifying as when Uncle Vernon did, as neither were very gentle whenever Harry moved. They weren’t very gentle regardless though.

It was far more comforting than he’d anticipated, and though he wasn’t quite prepared to acknowledge another difference between himself and Dudley, he understood why Dudley’d liked this.

Severus, while not loving in the same way Aunt Petunia was with Dudley, was warm and kind.

“Ready?” Severus asked.

The bubbly feeling pushed Harry to nod, and Harry paused for just a moment before doing so.

He’d trusted his gut the way the man with the mustache had told him to, and each time found himself both better and worse off for it. He wasn’t sure if that was a part of magic, but it seemed more and more likely after each instance Harry had with the bubbles.

They’d taken him in the wrong direction home, tossed him lost in London without any help aside from whoever he stumbled into and pushed him into Severus, who hadn’t been the most pleased when they’d first begun to speak.

They’d also brought him a bus, snacks, friends, money, magic, and again, Severus.

Arguably, the luckiest thing that’d happened was finding Severus.

He decided that despite how the day had gone, and despite how he felt about his family, he was glad to be with someone who the bubbles believed to be family.

Harry nodded and tried to prepare himself for whatever came next.