NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: CH 2
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always called him a freak when he did something freaky, like turn his teacher's hair blue without touching her, or growing his hair back overnight after Aunt Petunia cut it all off. A wide smile grew on Harry's face; this was a place for freaks like him! Here, he could do all the freaky stuff he wanted, and nobody would shout at him for it!
He looked back down at the cobblestone pathway beneath his feet, floating in mid-air. Was this the sort of stuff he would learn if he hung around here? That would be awesome!
He followed the pathway and started climbing the steps up the cloud, looking up to where they led as he did so. And he stopped climbing, his mouth dropping open on its own accord.
From the top of the clouds rose a mountain with a flat peak, the top of which was covered in snow. Attached to the side of the mountain were palaces, for the lack of a better word, all of them with multiple levels, and white marble columns and gilded terraces. Light was provided by braziers that held real fires instead of lights, braziers that edged winding roads that went in a crazy fashion up the slopes of the mountain. It looked like those pictures found in history books, built by Greeks and Romans, only shiny and new.
As Harry stared at the palatial city, he drew a deep breath and collected himself. He was going to stick out like a sore thumb, with his threadbare clothes and his lack of bathing.
Just what was he to do now? He looked back. The elevator had disappeared, obviously having been recalled to the ground floor. He realized that it would soon be returning with the man the guard was going to let up originally.
He had no choice, raced up the steps, into the city, and ducked into the nearest shadowy hiding spot he could find.
It took him quite some time to calm his racing heart, but when he finally managed to do so his stomach let him know that it hadn't eaten in quite some time. Clutching the blanket that he had managed to keep hold of in the excitement, Harry tried to figure out what to do next. The people here may be freaks like him, but their houses certainly showed that they had lots of money and they would not like him strolling through their magnificent city dressed the way he was.
He slipped from shadow to shadow, trying to explore the city without drawing attention to himself. He saw wonderful things, beautiful things, and signs of freakishness that made his heart ache with longing to try them himself.
He was sure that quit a few of the city's dwellers had noticed him, the curious eyes meeting his were a dead giveaway, but for some reason, most of them only spared him a He stayed away from the top of the mountain, where the largest mansions were. He didn't want to push his luck. He followed the small roads, trying to see where they would lead, trying to figure out a good place to sleep.
On one of those roads, he arrived in an area that appeared to have been maintained far less. There was a lot of dust on the porches of these houses, and there was nobody around at all.
look or two and then went on their way. Perhaps they believed him to be one of them, and playing a game of sorts? They certainly hadn't yelled at him to go away, thrown things at him, or turned him into a frog with their powers.
Slipping from the shadow, Harry decided to try and see what happened. He walked into the middle of the road, and acted as if he belonged there. All the people he came across, beautiful men and even more beautiful women, dressed in bright-white togas and adorned with gold, merely glanced curiously at him, and then decided to leave him be. He wasn't stopped for conversation, he wasn't shouted at to go away.
Wondering what that was about, he ignored the curious looks and followed the road he was on; to wherever it was lead him.
He arrived at a market square, filled with multi-colored tents that held vendors selling all kinds of things. His stomach rumbled, but Harry had no more money.
He watched how one man payed a vendor with gold.
Even if Harry still had some money, something told him these vendors weren't about to accept US Dollars. A pretty girl, four or five years older than him, paid with a handful of silver and bronze coins. Now what was he supposed to do?
The girl turned away from the vendor, having stowed her purchase, and looked curiously at him. He gave her a tentative smile. She looked surprised, then gave him a hesitant smile in return, and walked away.
Even if nobody talked to him, at least they weren't shouting. That was a bonus. He wondered what they were all thinking when they look at him. They certainly looked puzzled enough, but accepted him easily after a few curious looks.
Not having any money to buy food, he left the market and went in look of a good place to spread out his blanket and go to sleep. There were vast gardens, but they were filled with olive trees and rose bushes. One meant a lot of open space where he could be seen sleeping, the other means lots of thorns, so the gardens were out. CH 3
Why did Harry suddenly feel like someone patted his back in approval?
Shaking off the strange feeling, Harry examined the statue a bit better. The man looked incredibly well built, better than anything Harry had ever seen in picture books. In fact, it looked as if Michelangelo had examined this statue and made a rather poor copy of it when he sculpted his 'David'.
Looking around, he decided on a house at random, and tried the door.
Or rather, doors. Like with all other houses he'd seen, this house held a large double door as an entrance, like you'd see in a church. He tried them, and found them unlocked.
Looking left and right and left again just to be sure, he opened the door a crack and slipped inside.
He arrived in a large entrance hall that was at least two or three stories tall, and dominated by a large statue standing in the middle of it. He didn't know why, but somehow Harry felt as if the statue were glaring at him, and he felt incredibly unwelcome – a bit like opening the door and entering Aunt Petunia's house, Harry thought.
"Sorry to bother you, Mister Statue," Harry said, politely. He looked around, and found the inside of the house to be even more dusty than the streets outside had been. "But would it be alright if I stayed here for a bit?"
The oppressive feeling intensified, and Harry started to feel rather uncomfortable. He started to wonder if this statue was magical and if it were going to start shouting at him the way Aunt Petunia always did.
"I can clean the house while I stay here," Harry offered. "Aunt Petunia makes me do the house work, and I'm pretty good at it."
The oppressive feeling wavered, as if thinking things over, and suddenly Harry felt really warm and safe, and the house felt like it was welcoming him. It was something completely new to the boy, and it surprised him.
He smiled at the statue. "Thanks, Mister Statue."
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