AN: Thanks to all of you who have reviewed this story. It means a lot to me to know you seem to be enjoying this. I hope you continue to enjoy what I have in store for this story. I know I said I might not be able to get out as quickly as my last story. I am finally able to get this to you. Please remember to read and review, for that is what keeps this story going. Thanks again.
Chapter Two
A Place to Crash
Minutes if not hours seem to pass seemingly endlessly before Harry moves from his position. The only reason he moved is because his body started to protest over its abuse. He may have momentarily forgotten about the battle he has just come from, but apparently his body has not. He slowly stands up, and for the first time he looks down at himself and gasps. He is covered in blood, bruises, cuts, and various other wounds. His cloak looks as though it has seen its better days, which unfortunately isn't saying much.
Pushing away from the wall, he heads towards the exit of Diagon Alley so he can get a room at the Leaky Cauldron, he needs rest and it looks like a lot of cleaning up. He hesitantly steps into the bar to see Tom, the old bartender at work. Harry tries to hide a gasp as he sees the older man. "Can I help you," Tom calls out with a weary smile.
"I would like a room please," Harry says softly.
"What kind of room would you like sir," Tom asks in question and Harry knows he is asking for his name.
"Evan," he answers, and Tom nods with a smile. "If the room has a bathroom and a bed it's good enough for me," he says.
Tom turns around and snags a key from the wall as Harry pushes himself up onto the stool, "I'm Tom," he introduces himself as Harry pulls out his money pouch to pay for the room.
"Hello, Tom is it okay if I sign the book in the morning," Harry asks as he counts the exact change for the room which surprises Tom because he hasn't told the young man the cost.
"That would be fine," Tom answers knowing this young man needs his rest, "Would you like a drink Mr. Evan?" Tom asks hopefully because he can see this young man means him no harm. In this day and age it is difficult to trust strangers, it's even difficult to trust friends, but there is something about this young man that puts him at ease and he hates seeing the pain this young man is obviously going through.
"A Butterbeer would be great if you could please," Harry asks with a smile, it has been too long since the last time he has had a Butterbeer that he doesn't believe he remembers what it tastes like.
"One Butterbeer coming up," Tom calls out with a return smile as he places the room key in front of the young man.
"Thank you Tom," Harry says as Tom places a mug of Butterbeer in front of him. He slowly reaches up and takes it into his hand, lifting it up he takes his first taste of a drink that seems almost foreign to him after so long of not having it.
"You are most welcome Mr. Evan," Tom smiles easily at the weary, tired, and very sore looking young man in front of him, "Mr. Evan," he says. "Are you okay?" he finally asks.
Harry looks up surprised, he looks into the concerned eyes of the older bartender, "I'm okay, just tired," he admits with a small shrug.
"Do you mind if I ask where you just came from," Tom asks as he cleans the top of the bar in front of him and to the right of Harry.
"No, I don't mind," Harry answers softly as he places the drink back down on the bar. "I just came from a place no one should ever have to be," he says in answer. "A place not too far from here, yet it seems as though it is a different world, it's hard to explain," he finishes with a soft shrug.
Tom is surprised by the honesty he sees in the young mans eyes, he knows Evan has just side tracked his question, but he truly doesn't seem to understand the answer himself. "Why?" Tom asks before he can think about what he is asking. He opens his mouth to apologize, but Evan waves the apology away.
"It's alright Tom," Harry says comfortingly, "I was sent here by a promise," he answers the unasked question. "As for why here specifically, only one person can answer that question," Harry says as he too wonders about the answer to this question.
"Who," Tom asks without thinking and he shakes his head as he realizes too late that he had said it out loud.
"Albus Dumbledore," Harry answers knowing this works two ways. One, it will tell him if Albus Dumbledore is alive or not. Two, it will tell him if Albus is the Headmaster of Hogwarts or not.
"Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts," Tom asks once again surprised. Harry just nods his head in agreement. "Are you here for the Defense position," he asks again without thinking.
"I highly doubt the Ministry, School Council or the Professors would like a fifteen year old to teach the students," Harry comments easily and amused as he picks up his mug once again.
This news surprises Tom more than any of the previous things this night. This young man in front of him is only fifteen years old. This is something he never would have guessed, he never even considered he would or could be that young. Realizing his mouth is hanging open he quickly snaps it shut, he quickly looks over the young man once again and realizes what he has been told is true. Though it is true, Tom knows this young man has seen more than he ever should have, he has seen more than most of the people he has met in all of his years as a bartender. "If you're just fifteen," Tom starts, "then why does it look like you have been thru a war?" he asks.
Harry tilts his head slightly, and then looks down at himself more closely, "probably because I have," he answers truthfully. "Probably because I have," he whispers again.
"Are you sure you're okay," Tom re-asks as he sees the dried blood and torn cloak.
Harry thinks about it before he answers, "nothing a good night's sleep and some healing potions won't cure," he finally answers. He drinks the remaining Butterbeer and places it on the counter; reaching into his cloak he pulls out the money to cover the drink. He places the money on the counter and snatches up his room key. "I think I best get to my room," Harry says softly, "I need to clean up a bit," he admits.
"Do you want me to wake you for breakfast," Tom asks.
Harry thinks about this for a moment, "Nah, that's alright. I should be up long before then. Lots to do," he says cryptically. "Lots to learn," he adds truthfully.
"Are you going to go to Hogwarts?" Tom asks as Harry slides off the stool.
"Not really sure," Harry answers, "I have to see where destiny leads me," he says with a weary look.
Tom can't help but chuckle at this, "I take it you are not into Divination then," he asks teasingly.
"No," Harry answers with a shake of his head, "Unfortunately it seems it's in me," he teases back. "Good night Tom," Harry answers as he starts to head towards the stairs.
"Good night Mr. Evan," Tom calls to the retreating back of the strangest person he has ever met. Though Tom is glad he has met Mr. Evan, something nowadays isn't common.
Harry makes his way up the stairs and looks down at the room number on his key, number nineteen. With a weary sigh he slowly makes his way to the room. As he opens the door he quickly closes it behind him. Years of training take over as he casts various security wards on the room preventing anyone from entering or listening in. He slowly slouches off his cloak and gently places it on the chair inside the room to the right of the door. "This is going to be an interesting stay," he says to himself as he starts to undress for his shower before resting for the night.