Chapter:17

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By the time he found the section with what appeared to be history and cultural books, the stack on the study table was a dozen books high. He quickly added several more. Most of the titles he selected came willingly into his hands, but both On Lineages and History and Culture of the British Wix felt as though he had to pull them through molasses to get them down. The Untold History of the British Isles wouldn't come off the shelf at all, and he couldn't even touch The Pureblood Directory. Every time he tried, his hand grabbed one of the titles on either side of it.

When he finally sat back down at the table, he had two dozen books waiting for him. There were many more he wanted to pull down, but he was running out of space on the small table. He started with Navigating Wixen Society. It was some sort of etiquette book for girls. The book was dry and spent a lot of time talking about inane things such as place settings and hosting parties, but it answered tons of his questions.

He lost himself to the books, scribbling notes into his notebook, and hunting down answers to his questions. There were technical things about spells that went completely over his head, but he continued on.

Shadows grew around him as the sun dipped below the trees in the distance. He was practising writing with a quill. He'd found a drawer in the study table filled with quills, ink, and parchment. Apparently, wizards, or Wixen according to the books, had never heard of biros or notebooks. It was awkward and he made a mess with the ink. The longer he spent taking his notes that way, the better he would get at it. He'd ruined four pieces of parchment before he managed to get the right amount of ink and stop leaving blotches everywhere.

Mippy popped into the room with a crack, causing him to scratch a line halfway down the page. When he looked up at her, she held a tray of food in her hands.

"Little Master Harry missed dinner," she said.

She placed the tray on the table, right on top of his notes and added, "Little Master Harry must eat."

"Thank You," he told her.

Her eyes widened just before she vanished with another loud crack.

It was a simple dinner, a hearty soup with a couple of rolls, and a pot of warm tea. Despite being used to not eating regularly, he was starving. He dug into the food, careful to not get any on the books as he continued reading.

Long after he'd finished eating, when he could no longer stifle the yawns, he called for the snakes. Morgan had ventured off to join them shortly after he started browsing the books, declaring it boring. As they secured themselves around his limbs, he debated on what to do with the books. He settled on taking his notes with him, but left the books neatly stacked on the table.

Unfortunately, not only was his door knob covered in some type of slime, but some type of powder glittered on his bed in the flickering light. It still smelled awful in the room as well. Sighing to himself, he went back down to the library.

The bench, while not as nice as the bed, was more comfortable than the cot mattress he'd used for most of his life. He curled up under the long jacket-like outer layer of his clothes and drifted into a fitful sleep.

Something hot smacked him in the face, waking him with a scream the next morning. Alex's laughter echoed through the room.

"So this is where you disappeared to," he said.

"What's it to you?" Harry asked, plucking what looked like a used firecracker off the floor. How…juvenile.

Alex had turned to look at the books Harry had left out, and sneered.

"Why are you reading this tosh for?" he asked disdainfully. "No one needs to know this crap."

"Considering I know nothing about being a wizard, I think I do," Harry snapped.

"Plenty of muggleborns go to Hogwarts not knowing this stuff. You don't need it."

"I'm not a muggleborn, now am I?" Harry snapped.

"Whatever. I was just coming to see if you wanted breakfast before the elves shut the kitchen down for a while."

With apprehension, Harry followed Alex to the kitchen. Breakfast waited for them on the table, a plate with eggs and toast in front of where he sat the morning before, and another plate piled high with a bit of everything in what he assumed to be Alex's seat.

The Daily Prophet sat in front of James' empty seat at the head of the table. The two boys didn't speak as they ate their breakfast.

Harry was in the middle of an article about a donation the Lord Malfoy made to St. Mungo's, which seemed to be a hospital, when he started choking on his food. Alex had dumped something onto his plate while he'd been wrapped up in the paper.

He shoved the plate away. He glared at Alex as he stormed out of the kitchen.

The overwhelming stench had somewhat dissipated from his bedroom, thankfully. But he only noticed Alex had replaced his soap with frog spawn when it turned to slimy mush under the water.

"Ugh!" he screeched, and rinsed his hand off.

Dressed in the red outfit again, he went back down to the library.

He only had an hour of peaceful reading before several loud pops went off around him. Something sharp sailed through the air and bit him.

Alex was howling with laughter. He lobbed another firework at Harry, who only just managed to keep the books away from the small explosion. They hit the floor with a crash.

"What is wrong with you?" Harry snapped at him.

He was bit again, this time he noticed it was a bright green frisbee.

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