Chapter Text
- “There’s not a word yet for old friends who’ve just met.”– Jim Henson
Harry sighed and looked out over the city of Las Vegas, shielding his eyes from the sun as the taxi surged into traffic. Aunt Petunia raised an eyebrow at him and he stared back. Her eyes widened and she turned back to fussing over Dudley again.
“Do we really have to stay in this hot city for a year?” Dudley argued, crossing his arms. “I want to go back home.”
“Yes, Duddykins. Your father’s work transferred him for another year,” Petunia replied, smiling wider at Dudley. “We’re going to be making more money and that means more money for presents.”
“I get to have more?! I want more!”
Harry grimaced and turned to look out the window again as they turned into a more suburban neighborhood of Las Vegas. The City that Never Slept. At least his aunt and uncle were slightly scared of him this summer. The threat of Sirius Black had kept them on their best behavior until now and Harry hoped that the threat would stick in their minds.
The city was definitely more crowded than London though and he had never seen this many lights on at night before. The Dursley’s had picked him up from Kings Cross station at the end of the school year and then had promptly taken him to the airport, something about Vernon taking a position in Las Vegas for a year.
Harry watched as the taxi stopped at a stop sign and then plowed through the intersection when it was clear, pulling into a driveway four houses down. The house that the driveway led to was… small in comparison with the others but it looked bigger than the house on Privet Drive. It was a two story house, with several windows facing the front. And it looked very similar to the other houses in the neighborhood.
Everything was very cookie cutter like and new, not an ounce of personality to the residences. He could see a set of buildings a mile south of the neighborhood, ones that looked very much like an American high school. Of course Harry wouldn’t be attending that at all or any other schools in the country but it did make him a little curious. He did wonder what muggle high schools were like... at least a little.
As soon as Dudley and Petunia got out of the car, he slid out himself and looked up at the house that would be his home for the next three months. Hopefully there was no cupboard under the stairs in this one though he had spent last summer in Dudley’s second bedroom. He carefully reached in for Hedwig’s cage, smiling at her when she untucked her head from her feathers.
“Go back to sleep, girl. We’re just moving.”
“No funny business here, Harry,” Petunia said, drawing his attention to her as he walked up the path to the house. “Mind the neighbors.”
Harry rolled his eyes and dug his trunk out of the taxi too, passing his aunt and cousin. “Yes, Aunt Petunia. I’ll keep to myself.”
“Good.”
Harry idly walked through the open door of the house and looked around, taking in the kitchen and the living room before heading for the stairs.
He waited for Dudley to pick a bedroom before choosing the one leftover for himself and unpacking for a while. Harry made sure his trunk was under the bed and that Hedwig had a view out through the window and then walked out, closing the door behind him. Dudley hadn’t bothered him since he had first come back from his third year and he hoped that his cousin wouldn’t start again.
The lack of his cousin’s friends certainly would be difficult for him and Harry’s lips twitched up into a small grin. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with them this summer.
“I’m going out, Aunt Petunia!”
He left before she inevitably decided to not answer and walked out through the front door, stuck his hands in his pockets to make sure his wand was in one of them and took off. The sun was low on the horizon and it was a very dry summer unlike what it would be in London. There were a few clouds in the sky but none that promised rain or moisture so he didn’t take a jacket, just kept to a shirt and jeans.
He ventured north, towards the high school and looked around at their new neighbors for the summer. Some were clearly just arriving home from work while others were sipping iced coffee on their porches. The high school kids looked to have gotten out of school recently as some kids were still hanging around.
The football stadium was large and he idly wondered how it was played but then decided he didn’t care. Quidditch was fun enough for him. He walked around the buildings, a 13 year old boy and didn’t draw any attention. Lockers lined the walls and bathrooms were sprinkled throughout the halls and he idly walked over to what looked like the library, poking his head inside briefly. It looked just what a normal library looked like, minus the flying books that Hogwarts had.
He continued on, heading towards the football stadium and track field, and followed a stream of students, hearing loud shouts and yells. Harry wondered if there was a football match in session and he glanced towards the raised seats that surrounded the field, expecting to see people going to their seats. It was late in the afternoon, after the school day, so perhaps it was a game but then… There were no people in the seats and no one was wearing football uniforms.
Harry raised an eyebrow, gripping onto his wand in his pocket and moved through the crowds as the jeering grew louder. The crowd ended up stopping in front of a goalpost and Harry stood on his tiptoes to see what was going on and flinched, his eyes narrowing at the sight. There was a kid tied to the goal post, ropes tied tightly around his waist, ankles and wrists. The kid didn’t even look like a high school student; he was definitely younger than 16 and perhaps even a year younger than Harry.
The boy had shaggy brown hair and bright brown eyes and his skin had gone pale, his legs shaking. Harry grimaced and turned to the other kids around him, the bigger, bulkier boys who were clearly on the football team and the girls as well. None of them took note of him as they were yelling at the boy that they had tied to the post but as Harry looked back at the boy, their eyes met. Green to brown.
Harry sucked in a tight breath, looked around for any adults and gripped his wand tighter. He idly wondered what the limits on underage magic were in the US and he hadn’t heard anything from MACUSA yet but he didn’t want to take any chances. The hooting of an owl drew his attention over to the tree a few feet away, behind the bleachers, and he grinned. Hedwig stared right down at him, her golden eyes dark and rather annoyed.
Harry gestured at the crowd of high school students then at the boy tied to the goalpost. Hedwig hooted louder, this time she definitely sounded amused, and then ruffled her feathers, extending her wings out and jumped off the branch she was perched on and flew low.
The students on the perimeter of the crowd yelped, stumbling back a bit as the owl flew close to their heads, its claws out. More cries rang out in the football stadium and Harry let out a surprised snort of laughter as Hedwig dive bombed a particularly broad boy and then pulled off at the last possible minute. The boy screamed and ran off and that was like the first domino in a group. All of the students ran off, covering their heads with their arms and yelling about freaky birds.
Harry’s lips twitched in amusement and waited until all was clear before running over towards the goalpost. The boy’s brown eyes were wide as he stared down at him, his mouth slightly open in surprise.
“Hey, you alright?” Harry asked, as he walked right up to the post and started to untie the boy. He started with the boy’s arms and worked his way downward, meeting the boy’s eyes as he did. Hedwig hooted quietly as she landed on top of the goalpost, peering down at him.
“Owls are active at night and snowy owls aren’t native to Las Vegas. There are 16 species of owls in North America and that owl is in the wrong place.”
Harry paused from where he was untying the ropes around the boy’s waist. “Hedwig’s… special.”
“Hedwig?”
“Uh… She’s mine,” Harry replied, glancing down to the well tied ropes and then sighing. He curled his fingers through the hardest knot and pulled, watching it fall loose to the ground. “She’s my companion.”
“She’s yours?”
“Well… if you could ask her, she’d probably say I’m her’s,” Harry offered, grinning a little and holding out a hand to the boy.
The boy’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Harry and Harry looked at him. He didn’t have to look up or down as they were the same height though the boy was a bit skinnier than he was. There was something in the boy’s eyes, something like what he saw in Hermione’s eyes. A thirst for knowledge or something like that or perhaps it was the need to solve the puzzle in front of him. Harry had the feeling that he was the puzzle and grinned a little. The boy glanced to where Harry’s outstretched hand was but kept his own hands to himself and Harry withdrew his.
“You have an owl for a pet?”
“Uh… I guess. She doesn’t like that word though,” Harry whispered, tipping his chin towards her. “What’s your name?”
“Spencer.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Harry. Why’d they tie you up like that?”
“They’re bullies.”
Harry tilted his head as he looked at Spencer and then nodded. “I got that much. Bullies. They’re common enough everywhere. My cousin is one.”
Spencer’s eyes narrowed at his words and then he shook his head, his cheeks going a little pink. “You’re from England, aren’t you? Your accent is not from Scotland or Ireland.”
“You know where each accent is from?” Harry questioned curiously, raising an eyebrow.
“I know where each accent is from,” Spencer said, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug and then curling in on himself. “It was my last day here. It was a… going away gift.”
Harry stared at Spencer, his eyes widening. “Your last day here. You… You’re a high school student?”
“I was. I’m going to CalTech in Pasadena this fall.”
Harry blinked and Spencer stared at him, his eyes narrow, almost daring him to comment. Spencer couldn’t be more than 13 years old and yet if he was telling the truth...
Spencer stared up at Harry and looked into the other boy’s green eyes. The scar on Harry’s forehead drew his attention and he wondered what could have made that kind of scarring. Harry’s owl was still staring down at them from the top of the goalpost and Spencer’s eyes widened as Hedwig looked right at him, her golden eyes narrowed.
“You’re… smart then.”
Spencer tilted his head. “Yes, I’m smart. Why are you here?”
“I heard the noise,” Harry offered, his eyes narrowed. “My uncle got a temporary job here so he had his family move here too but I’m only here for the summer.”
“I have to go,” Spencer said, pointing in the opposite direction of where Harry’s temporary home was.
“Would you like a buddy?”
Spencer blinked, stared at him. “Sure?”
Harry watched him go, seeing Spencer’s shoulders curl even further inward, and then hurried over to fall into step next to him. “Sooo… what do you do around here for fun?”
Spencer turned to look at him and nodded. “I’m already late. My mom knows I’m usually home by now.”
“Don’t let me keep you. I don’t know anyone here anyway.”
“Is your cousin 13 too?”
“Yeah,” Harry answered, looking up into the sky as they walked and spotting Hedwig following them from above. She kept her distance, to make it appear that she wasn’t following them exactly. She hooted quietly and flew higher into the sky as he watched and then he turned back to Spencer. “I’m not friends with him though. My friends are back in England. One of them is a little like you, I suppose. She loves to read.”
“Does she have an eidetic memory too?” Spencer questioned, his eyes widening as they headed out of the high school campus.
“No. She just really loves books. She’s saved my life a few times too,” Harry said. They headed north, whereas Harry’s temporary home was south of the high school, and turned left onto a much different neighborhood. This one wasn’t cookie cutter houses and perfect lawns. These houses didn’t look very expensive, no perfectly cut lawns or water features. They were ordinary. “What’s an eidetic memory?”
“I can remember everything I read and see,” Spencer explained wearily. “Everything.”
“Everything. That must… come in handy, I suppose.”
“I guess. The other kids think I’m a freak.”
“You’re not a freak, Spencer. You’re your own person. Everyone’s different in their own way,” Harry offered, shrugging a little as they continued to walk. “My aunt and uncle call me a freak sometimes and my cousin does too. It doesn’t mean that I’m a freak.”
Spencer stopped and turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Your aunt and uncle call you a freak? Why do you live with your aunt and uncle in the first place?”
“You want to know a secret?”
“Does it have something to do with Hedwig?” Spencer asked, gesturing up at the bird with a hand.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t look like a freak.”
“You don’t either.”
Spencer stared at him, his eyes flickering before he glanced to the snowy owl flying in the air above them. “What’s your secret?”
“I’m a wizard.”
Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “Like Merlin?”
“Yes, like Merlin. He actually lived hundreds of years ago,” Harry whispered, grinning a little. “But don’t tell anyone. I’m not actually supposed to tell people.”
“You don’t look like you’re lying.”
Harry legitimately did not look like he was lying and Spencer studied him closer, his eyes narrowing. Harry was standing in front of him, his arms loose at his sides and his shoulders relaxed and open. He was breathing normally, slow even breaths making his chest rise and fall.
“I’m not. Hedwig’s my familiar,” Harry replied. “Or something like that. She’s my best friend. The wizards in Britain use owls to get mail. I don’t know if wizards in America use owls.”
Spencer nodded and looked to where his house was a few homes away, wondering if his mom was still caught up in reading her books.
“Is that you?” Harry asked, drawing his attention back.
“Yes. You’re a wizard.”
Harry nodded in reply and drew out a thin stick from a pocket, flipping it between his fingers. “This is my wand. 11’’ holly and phoenix feather.”
Spencer’s eyes widened and he tentatively reached out to touch it. Harry handed it over without question, keeping his green eyes on him. Spencer traced over the smooth wood of the stick, the wand, and watched as sparks of blue left the tip of it. Harry sucked in a tight breath but didn’t comment.
“Magic is real,” Spencer murmured, his heart racing within his chest. Magic and he couldn’t tell his mother about it, even without Harry’s words of warning. His mother would explode with conspiracy theories. And it seemed like the governments were actually keeping the fact that magic was real from civilians. His mother would… not like that but his heart was pounding in his chest. “Are there books?”
Harry’s lips twitched up into a small grin and he nodded. “Yeah, there are books. I don’t have a lot with me but I can come by in the next few weeks.”
Spencer slowly grinned and watched as Harry took a step away, waved and then headed back the way they had come.
Spencer hesitated briefly a week later as he walked up to the front porch of Harry’s home. He could hear yelling through the door and open windows at the front of the house but nothing else. Spencer ended up knocking on the door and stepping back, rocking back on the heels of his feet and waited.
The heavy set boy who opened the door wasn’t familiar to him and nor was the older man behind him.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Spencer. Harry’s friend?”
“My cousin already made a friend? Are you another--”
“Dudley! The neighbors! Potter!”
“At least he doesn’t look like his other friends, dad.”
“Why are you here anyway?” the boy asked, crossing his arms and glaring at him. “Harry doesn’t have any friends here.”
“He’s loaning me a book,” Spencer said, his eyes narrowing as he looked between who was probably Dudley Dursley and Harry’s uncle, Vernon. “Why does he live with you guys anyway?”
Vernon Dursley spluttered and crossed his arms. “It’s none of your business, boy. Potter!”
“Another nerd,” Dudley muttered, smirking at him. “Predictable. Another freak too by the looks of you.”
Spencer stared at him, raised an eyebrow. “Kids who bully others are more likely to have criminal convictions and traffic citations as adults. They are also more likely to drop out of school and abuse drugs and alcohol.”
Dudley and Vernon both stared at him, blinking.
“He’s another freak,” Vernon whispered, glaring at him. “We don’t want your kind on our doorstep again!”
“Oh, hey, Spencer! Sorry about the wait!” Harry called out, pushing his uncle and cousin out of the way and meeting him on the porch. “You want to go to the Natural History Museum with me?”
“Sure. What… You don’t drive, do you?”
“No, but we can take the bus,” Harry said, turning around to look at Vernon and Dudley. Harry blinked at the expressions on both their faces, raising an eyebrow before shrugging. “I’ll be back later, uncle. No need to worry. Not like you will anyway.”
Harry gestured for Spencer to move and he fell into step with his new friend as they left Harry’s house.
“Sorry about them,” Harry muttered once they were out of ear shot. “I’ve gotten used to them unfortunately.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”
“Harry, why do you live with them and not your parents?”
Harry turned to look at Spencer as they walked out onto the sidewalk, the nearest bus stop two blocks away. It wasn’t very hot today luckily and Spencer watched as Harry sighed and flinched. The sun beat down on them, moving occasionally underneath clouds. He was probably used to the climate of London, not Las Vegas. Harry was wearing jeans and a short sleeved shirt while Spencer wore his glasses, a plaid button up shirt and soft pants.
“It’s… not a very pleasant story,” Harry finally offered, quietly.
“Your aunt and uncle are not very pleasant.”
Harry snorted. “That’s an understatement. What did you tell them to make them look like that anyway?”
“I just told them what I knew of bullying.”
Harry blinked and then let out a quiet laugh, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “That’s why. You must know a lot about bullying.”
“I know enough to see that your cousin bullies you and that your uncle is afraid for his job.”
Harry raised an eyebrow and then his lips twitched up into a small smile. “Huh. Well, let’s go. I don’t want to be around for more yelling.”
“Here. It was one of my first textbooks,” Harry remarked, handing over the book in his hands to Spencer. “It’s on the list of required books for first years really. At least at Hogwarts it was.”
Spencer’s eyes widened as he took the thick book. History of Magic by Batilda Bagshot. He traced the cover, watched as it moved underneath his fingers. The letters of the title flickered and moved around wherever he put the pad of his fingers. “Is this really for me?”
He gently opened up the book and read the publication date, taking in the table of contents. Published in 1947. Goblin war #1. Goblin war #2. His eyes widened as he continued to trace his fingers over the letters, the very existence of magic proven within his fingertips.
“Yeah. You said you love to read.”
“I did. I do.”
“Just take care of it.”
“I will.” Spencer pressed his fingers to the first page, already down to the bottom of the page.
Harry grinned as he watched Spencer’s eyes move down the first page, watched as he turned the page within a minute of Harry giving the book to him. “I don’t have any other books with me as I left them back in London but…”
Spencer didn’t reply for another minute and Harry smiled wider before reaching out a hand to gently grasp Spencer’s shoulder. The other boy shivered slightly at his touch, his blue eyes widening before he went with it and let Harry steer him to a chair.
“See you whenever I see you next? Hopefully we’ll see each other again,” Harry asked, glancing at Spencer. The Dursleys were already in the car, packed up after two weeks in Las Vegas, and glaring at him for having them wait. Though he did think he saw a flicker of fear in Vernon’s eyes and Harry struggled not to grin. The threat of Sirius coming to visit still worked.
Spencer looked between Harry and his family, seeing the look on Dudley’s face before straightening his shoulders and focusing on Harry. “You’ll bring more books?”
Harry grinned and nodded. “Next time, yeah.”