Harry sat up on the bed for a couple of minutes, wandering about that strange dream, before the memories of what had happened the day before came back, filling his mind like water filled an overflowing river.
He remembered it all: the nightmare; HIS laughter; uncle Vernon coming into his room, his face turning an ugly shade of purple because of the anger; the beating; being thrown out of the house... Hedwig, laying in the middle of the street, just waiting for a car to run over her cage.
The urge to cry overcame Harry when he thought about his beloved friend. The first he'd ever had. The creature he loved the most.
The teen put both his hands on his face, not even noticing the slight pain that lingered in his body, crying and wetting his skin with his tears.
He cried and cried and cried, loosing track of time and just sitting on that bed that was, obviously, too confortable to be his own.
Not that he had noticed yet.
He didn't know how much time had gone by. He didn't care. He couldn't stop crying, trying and failing to regain his breathing and calm down.
He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard the door creak open, revealing Tom, the bartender, whom he remembered as the owner of the Leacky Cauldron from his first time in Diagon Alley.
The man entered the room, not noticing that his 'patient' had woken up.
Tom made his way towards the table that stood opposite the bed and put down the shrinked trunk he carried with him, waving his wand and muttering a spell under his breath, watching as the trunk grew back to its original size.
Harry saw him open the trunk and take out a couple of glass vials: one of them was a vibrant red, the other was a creamy yellow.
The man turned around to face the bed, seeming determined to walk towards him, but stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed that the boy was awake.
"Oh, Mister Potter! It's good to see you're awake." the man said, coming out of his stupor. He didn't comment on the fact that his cheeks were tear stained; didn't say anything about his eyes, which were probably red and puffy. He just resumed walking and sat on the edge of his bed.
Harry was very grateful for all that.
Tom gave him the vibrant red potion and Harry took it without even wincing, swallowing the next one as fast as possible, so he didn't have to taste it.
He had stopped crying, probably because of the startle the entrance of the man gave him, and, feeling his tears drying on his cheeks, he grimaced and asked for the bathroom.
The man sitting next to him pointed to the door that was opposite the bed, next to the table, asking him to return as soon as possible and, if he was confortable with it, letting him take a look at how his scars were doing.
It took him just a couple minutes to wash his face and relieve his bladder.
He went back into the bedroom and found that Tom was back to looking into the trunk - which Harry supposed was like a first-aid kit for Muggles.
The teen decided to sit on the edge of the bed and wait for the man to finish with what he was doing.
He didn't have to wait too long.
Tom turned around and Harry noticed that he held a jar in his hands, filled with what seemed like butter. He came up to the bed and kneeled in front of the boy.
"I'll have to ask you to take your shirt off, Mister Potter." the bartender said gently, speaking to Harry as if he thought he would scare him away if the spoke too loudly.
Which, in truth, would probably have happened.
Harry looked down and, for the first time, notice that he was wearing one of Dudley's oversized shirts.
He didn't even have the strength to feel embarrassed about the fact that the man had seen him in a shirt that was obviously used, judging by the rips on it. He took the edge of the shirt in his hands and pulled it over his head, twitching a bit at the pain the action produced.
Tom started by looking at his torso, nodding to himself pleased when he noticed that the scar tissue was much less than before. He opened the jar and started applying the paste where the scars were most visible. When he was finished with the front, he asked the teen to turn around and repeated the process, being careful where he knew the skin to be more tender.
When he was finished the brown haired man got up from his position on the floor and told the boy to turn around once more. When Harry faced him, his face broke into a gentle smile. "Your scars are healing nicely. Some of them have disappeared, some are just fading, but they will be a lot less noticeable when they heal completely." he announced happily.
Harry looked at him with a tired face, obviously slightly out of it. He was trying to pay attention with all his strength. Problem was: that strength was almost non-existent at this point.
Tom, having noticed the obvious exhaustion, looked at him with sympathy. "You better return to sleep, Mister Potter, it's still too early for both of us to be up and about." saying this he turned his back at the teen and went to pack his trunk again. When he was finished putting everything in, he shut the trung and shrinked it to be slightly larger than a jewelry box. He made his way to the door and opened it, stopping just before exiting. "I'd recommend taking a trip to Diagon Alley, when you wake up. The Leacky Cauldron will probably be closed already but there are some pubs that close a lot later than mine does." with that, the door closed behind the man.
Harry, who was a lot more tired than he had expected, rearranged himself on the bed to lie down confortably and, no more than a few seconds later, he was out cold.
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When Harry woke for the second time he felt much better than before. It had been, admittedly, the best sleep he'd had all summer, even if it could better be classified like a pain-induced comatose state.
Sitting up, he took a couple of minutes to, finally, take a look at the room he had been put into.
The room was, if he had to be honest, pretty plain. But that was to be expected, the Leacky Cauldron being a simple tavern.
There was a bed side table on each side of the bed. A wooden table stood opposite the bed, next to the door he knew led to the bathroom. His trunk, which was left open and with a t-shirt clearly hanging out of it, was under the table. There was a door on the wall to his right, a door that, he supposed, led to the corridor and, consequently, to the ground floor of the Leacky. On the left side of the room there was a window that looked over the streets of London.
It took the boy a few seconds to see that it was clearly night-time.
He went to take his wand but, when he didn't find it next to him, looked around the room once more.
He found his wand on the bed side table on his right, the one that was closer to him, and a quick Tempus let him know that it was a little past 11pm.
His once-over of the room was interrupted when his stomach growled loudly, making his hunger known.
He stood from the bed slowly, to make sure his head wouldn't start spinning, making him fall on the hard floor, and went to his trunk, picking up a pair of pants and a shirt, which he made sure didn't look like he stole it from a homeless man.
He quickly changed his clothes, taking the sachet of money he had inside his trunk as an afterthought, before making sure his trunk was closed and leaving the room.
Harry quietly make his way downstairs, so as to not wake the other people sleeping, and went to the back of the tavern, tapping the bricks on the wall and opening the passage to Diagon Alley.
He was impressed to see that the street was alight with life. Sure, there weren't as many paople as when he first entered the Magical World, but there was quite a good amount of people seeing as it was almost midnight.
The teen walked down the street, glancing at some of the shop windows as he went, and stopped in front of what seemed to be a pub, judging by the laughter and smeel of food that came from inside.
He debated whether or not to enter, seeing as the pub was a bit too close to Nocturn for his comfort, but the smell of food was too inviting to dismiss, and his hunger took over.
He entered the pub, seeing quite the crowd of people eating, talking and laughing. Making his way to one of the only available tables was fairly easy, everyone being too drunk to properly recognize him, so he sat down.
He only had to wait a couple of minutes for a waiter to come and ask what he wanted to eat and drink.
Ordering food and a cup of butterbeer, Harry contemplated his next move.
He couldn't go back at the Dursleys' and he didn't think he had enough money to stay at the Leacky Cauldron all summer. That was the best option though, so he would have to wait for the next day and go into Gringrots to withdraw some money to pay for his stay.
The teen was startled out of his thoughts when the waiter from before appeared and placed a plate of food in front of him.
Deciding that it was the best option, Harry tucked in, making all thoughts about his summer disappear from his mind as hunger took over.
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Long time no see, my little night creatures! I know it's been far too long since I posted but unfortunately I didn't have as much time to concentrate on writing my stories. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as you enjoyed the others and I pray that I'll be able to update soon enough. Thank you for reading, my loves!
Kisses - Miss Macabre🖤
Ps: Even if this story has barely started I knew from the beginning that there was going to be a sequel. This story was, thus, supposed to be purely focused on the parent-son relationship between Thor, Loki and Harry, without a Harry x (someone) love story. As much as it will continue this way, I thought about something. I'm a sucker for crossovers and I've recently been reading some Harry Potter x Tony Stark fanfics, so my question is: would you like to see some Harry x Tony action in the sequel? I know it's early but, if so, I'll use this story to build up their relationship a bit. Please answer with a comment.😉🖤