Home.

(1.2) Harry

A/N: You'll notice I'm trying to write how Harry would think—British spellings, single quotations, etc. I've also tried my hand in British slang. I apologize in advance because it did not always work. If you're British and could help me out by correcting my more awkward uses of certain words/phrases, that'd be great.

***

Aunt Sally looked almost the opposite of Aunt Petunia. She had kind blue eyes, soft facial features, curly brown hair, and a loving smile.

'You must be Harry', she said with a warm grin, 'I'm your Aunt Sally and this is my husband Paul.'

If the differences between my two aunts weren't obvious by now, they certainly were when Aunt Sally embraced me in her arms. The hug was not too tight but firm enough that I knew she cared. It was easily one of the best hugs I'd ever received.

'Pleased to meet you both', I told them after being released from the affectionate gesture.

'Oh, so polite too. Percy could learn a thing or two', she chastised, but there was a twinkle of mirth in her eyes that told me she was only joking.

'Learn something?' Percy said with mock horror. 'The only thing I've learned is to never bet against Annabeth.'

'That's the only thing you've learnt?' I questioned amusedly. I wondered who Annabeth was. Probably a girlfriend or something. I'd ask later.

Mr Blofis laughed at his stepson's response. Or should I call him Uncle Paul? I figured I should wait to see what he's like and then decide.

'Why don't we head home?' Aunt Sally suggested.

Percy eagerly agreed. 'Sounds good to me. I could go for your lasagna, Mom.'

So we hopped into a cab and headed to a nice place just outside of Manhattan, or 'the City' as Percy only ever referred to it by.

When we got into the apartment, which was larger than I thought it'd be, you could smell the dinner in the oven. An old lady came around the corner.

'Ah, you're back. Is this the young lad you had to pick up?'

'Yes, this is my nephew Harry. Thank you so much, Mrs Kemp, for keeping an eye on the place while we were gone.'

'Of course, Sally dear. Anytime.'

'Would you like to stay and join us?' Aunt Sally offered.

Mrs Kemp politely refused. 'No that's quite alright. Your lasagna is good, but Howard made his chicken pot pie for tonight.'

'Ok then. Well, tell Mr Kemp we say hello. And if you need anything, don't be a stranger.'

'Of course not. Enjoy your meal.' And then Mrs Kemp left.

'Let me take your stuff, Harry', Percy told me, 'I'll bring it to your room. The table is already set. Take a seat anywhere.'

I handed him my backpack and made my way to the dining table. My mouth started salivating at the aroma of a good home-cooked meal. I hadn't eaten anything in a long while. The Dursleys were on this diet before I left, which meant I always got the smallest portion of whatever food they had. Usually, it was less than a quarter of a pomegranate or a single piece of lettuce or something like that. The prospect of actual food was extremely enticing.

Aunt Sally must've noticed because she served me a large helping and ushered me to dig in. I didn't hesitate before having a go at it. I tried to restrain myself from eating like Ron, but it was so good I'm sure I lost myself a few times. No one seemed to care. In fact, Percy was eating it even more fervently than I was.

We made small talk and got to know each other some. While I was only 13 going on 14, Percy was 17 and going to turn 18 by the end of the summer. He had just graduated high school and was headed off to Uni with his girlfriend, who was confirmed to be the Annabeth he mentioned earlier. He said he usually goes to this summer camp, but he decided to take a break this year. Then I described what it was like to live in England and they told me some of the cool stuff to do in America, specifically New York and even more specifically Manhattan.

Halfway through my third helping, I started to become very nauseous.

'Excuse me, where's the toilet?'

'Just down the hall on your right.'

I nodded in thanks quickly before getting up and almost running to the bathroom. I definitely ate too much. Probably should've thought of that before consuming more food than I've eaten in the past month. I thankfully made it to the toilet as I vomited into it. I couldn't hold anything down. It all came out with vigour.

I heard faint footsteps down the hall. I instantly grew anxious. What would they say? What would they do? I just threw up in their bathroom. Would they be angry or concerned? They seemed like the type to be genuinely concerned, but the Dursleys would've punished me for something like this, so I was still worried.

That's when Percy came through the slightly ajar door. He assessed the scene before him and knelt down next to me. I felt a caring hand on my back, but it was quickly pulled off in surprise. I averted my eyes in shame and embarrassment. I knew I was very bony—no muscle or even fat to be found. The Dursleys had starved me so much it showed in my physique. I thought Percy was going to be disgusted and run out of the room, but to my confusion, he grabbed a wet washcloth and knelt beside me again. He wiped my face clean and then pulled me closer to him in a protective manner.

I didn't realise I had tears streaming down my face until Percy wiped them away with gentle fingers. I saw his bright sea-green eyes filled with compassion and understanding. Without having to say anything, he knew what was going on—I was sure of it. Those eyes flooded me with a calm aura. At that moment, I broke down. I cried into his shoulder as he held me comfortingly. At some point, I was cleaned up properly, guided to a bedroom, then laid down and covered with a warm quilt. I felt the bed dip as Percy sat down and continued to rub my back. He let me cry unabashedly. I must've fallen asleep because when I woke up, the sun was just starting to rise above the tall buildings around us.

***

The clock read 7:30 am. I took a look around the room and found my trunk by the foot of the bed and my backpack on top of it. There was a nice side table with a lamp and a closet for my clothes instead of an armoire. The window overlooked the busy street below. People were hustling to and fro. It was very different from the "perfect" neighbourhood the Dursleys lived in. What else would be different in the 'city that never sleeps'? I'd find out soon enough.