A Different Kind of Story

Meeting Harry

Nicholas Flamel was not a man to be confused easily, however on this early morning he was rather flummoxed. Upon entering his kitchen to make breakfast for his wife Pernell, he came upon a small child, maybe 4 or 5 years old, sitting at his table coloring. His home was well warded, and only those who were allowed entry were admitted to enter, and there were not many he trusted that way at his age.

The boy was small, his clothes worn and slightly faded, as if washed several times. His hair, although slightly dirty, hung down to his shoulders in loose waves. He was pale, as though he never went outside, or was rather ill. His eyes, though partially hidden by his hair and too big glasses, Nicholas could see were green. A deep almost emerald green. The child turned his head slightly, shifting his bangs enough that Nicholas could see a scar, jagged and pink, in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead.

"Pardon me childe, but how did you come to be in my home this early?" Nicholas asked, causing the child to jump and cease his coloring.

"Grandpa Albus left me here," the child said, now looking down at his lap. "He said to give you this." He handed over the paper he was coloring on, which turned out to be the back of an envelope. The picture seemed to be of a family of three, with another child in the back ith a dog. Nicholas decided it would be best to read the letter first, while he made breakfast. Waving his hand at the stove, he opened the letter while the child watched breakfast cook itself.

Dear Nicholas,

I know this may come as a shock, and I am very sorry, but I had no other choice. My grandson, Harry, has been cast from his family, in favor of his sister, Isabella. His mother planned to send him to her sister, but I cannot allow it. Her sister is an evil witch of a muggle, constantly insulting and abusing her sister at any chance. I could not allow Harry to live there, I'm sure you understand.

Please Nicholas, take him in and care for him. I know you and Pernell gave up trying to conceive, but he needs a loving family, and Pernell needs a child. I know Harry will fit in, he is such a bright boy. Please think it over, and whatever your decision, I'm honored you could consider it.

I should be back around lunch, and you can give me your answer.

Albus Dumbledore

Looking up from the letter, Nicholas saw the child, Harry, watching the stove with interest. 'Well, he certainly seems excited by seeing magic,' Nicholas thought.

"Harry, why are you watching the breakfast cook?"

"I've never seen it cook itself before, Rosie always cooked the food, but sometimes she let me help," Harry replied, but not shifting his gaze from the stove.

"Who is Rosie?"

"She's the kitchen elf, she was nice. She taught me how to make spaghetti."

"Do you like spaghetti, Harry?"

"Yeah, but I don't get to eat it alot. Bella doesn't like it." Harry said softly, turning his gaze back to his lap. Nicholas had his mind made up, he would keep the child. But he would be talking to Albus about his family. Standing up, he held his hand out to Harry.

"Would you like to help me prepare breakfast in bed? It's my wife's birthday today, and I always bring her breakfast."

"You want me to help?" Harry asked, a guarded look on his face. "What if I mess it up?"

"Then we start over again, we all make mistakes, and you won't be punished as long as it's an accident." Nicholas said gently. Harry glanced at him and back to the stove, thought for a moment then grabbed Nicholas' hand.

"Here let's pull up a stool, just to make sure you can reach." Summoning a stool over, he picked the small boy up and sat him on the stool. With a wave of his hand, all the pans settled themselves on the counter ready to be played and served.

"Ok, let's get started, if it was your birthday what is one thing you would want for breakfast Harry?"

"Uhmm, oh I'd want orange!"

"Like orange juice, or an actual orange?"

"Both, I've never had an orange before, but the juice is yummy!"

"Well, how about we get some orange juice then?" Nicholas asked, walking to the cabinet and grabbing three glasses. After setting them on the counter, he went to the cooling cupboard and grabbed a pitcher of fresh orange juice.

"What would you like on your birthday, sir?" Harry asked as he looked at everything set out.

"Oh I love cinnamon rolls, I'd want those," Nicholas said pointing to one of the pans, and handing Harry a spatula to remove the sticky treat.

"Are they good?"

"Delicious, it's very sweet, and these are my favorites. They have a small amount of orange juice mixed into the icing."

"So more orange!" Harry squealed, bouncing slightly on his stool.

"Have you never had a cinnamon roll?"

"No, mommy always said I was a bad boy, I didn't deserve special stuff."

"Well then you're going to have to try it today then. After all, we have to make sure breakfast is perfect for a birthday, right?"

"I get to try one?" The hope shining through his emerald eyes almost brought Nicholas to his knees.

"Of course, in fact you shall be the taste tester, to make sure everything tastes perfect. That way my Pernell only gets the best breakfast." Harry nodded, a very serious look on his small face, and overwhelming joy shining in his eyes.

"Then I'll do my best sir."

"Call me Nicholas, Harry. Now, try those rolls, remember they have to be very yummy." Nicholas smiled as Harry tried small pieces of every dish, and pointed at all the ones he thought tasted good. Turning back to the cupboard, Nicholas grabbed three plates, and a large tray and set them on the counter.

"Alright, now let's get these onto the plates. Then we can go upstairs, and have some breakfast. I know Pernell would love to meet the young chef who made her breakfast." Harry smiled, almost bouncing off his stool again in his excitement. He grabbed the spatula preparing to pull out the cinnamon rolls for the plates.

"Be careful, Harry!" Nicholas said, grabbing the small hand before it touched the hot pan. "The pan is still very hot, and I don't want you to get hurt. Here put this over your hand to grab the pan, it'll keep you from getting hurt." He put the oven mit on the boys hand, and cast a shrinking charm until it fit the boys hand better.

"Thank you, I'm sorry." Harry said in a trembling voice, looking down at the counter. He was sure he was going to lose the roll now, he was such a bad boy.

"Don't be sorry child, you didn't know. But now that you do, I expect you to be more careful. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Yes sir." Harry nodded.

"Now, carefully, let's get those rolls out. I'll get the juice." Nicholas watched from the corner of his eye as Harry only removed two rolls from the pan to the plate. "You're forgetting one Harry, unless I don't get one?" Nicholas pouted, causing Harry to gasp in shock and joy. He quickly plated another roll, incredibly thankful that mister Nicholas was so nice.

"Alright, let's get the rest of this served up, and then we can take it up." They piled the plates high with french toast, bacon, sausages, some cut fruits, and, of course, eggs. Nicholas placed the plates on the tray and tapped it with his finger, causing it to float in front of him.

"Alright, down you go! Now let's take this upstairs and I'll introduce you to Pernell." Harry bounced along beside him, all the way up the stairs. Finally making it back to his room, he opened the door to see Pernell was already awake.