Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Hidden Family	By : vinsmouse Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > General - Misc Views: 17507 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Biggles, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Chapter List
- 7
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Chapter VIII
The remainder of the summer was spent learning something of his heritage from Amelia Bones alongside a smattering of Wizarding law. This kept him quite busy, though not so busy that there wasn’t time for fun.
8th August, 1987
Most afternoons found him in a nearby park with his grandfather and at least one of the others as he learned to ride his new bicycle. Possessing unusually good balance, it didn’t take Harry long at all and soon he was speeding up and down the paths set aside for bikes.
Ginger enjoyed these outings as much as Harry did. Each moment spent with his grandson sewed another stitch in the tear Rose had left on his heart and soul those many years ago. To see him grinning with joy had Ginger laughing along with the boy.
There were darker moments too. Moments in which he would think of the fearful child he’d found hidden away in a cupboard and he would once more be fighting the urge to strangle the Dursley’s and Dumbledore.
The worst moments, by far, were when his little Harry would flinch back from him or one of the others. The Wizarding healers assured him that this would lessen in time. He knew himself, from his own history, that they were right. In the meantime it was exceedingly difficult to see. All he could do, all any of them could do, in those moments was reassure the boy that while they might be a bit upset they would never resort to violence. Though they had all been brought up in a time when physical punishment was the norm, Ginger had vowed that Harry would never be punished in this way. He knew, as they all did, that a simple spanking was not the same as a beating. However, given Harry’s history Ginger thought it best, and the others agreed that any punishment come in the form of losing privileges or an extra chore.
10th August, 1987
Harry giggled, hiding his face in Paddington’s fur. “Did you really dress like a lady Grandfather?” As they did many evenings, Algy and Bertie had once more been regaling Harry with tales from their younger days, suitably edited for their young audience of course.
“What have you been telling him now?” Ginger demanded, glaring at his friends.
Harry’s giggles stopped. He hadn’t meant to make his grandfather mad. He blinked back the tears that wanted to fall. He shouldn’t have said anything.
A pointed look from Algy had Ginger turning his attention back to his small grandson. He’d forgotten for the moment how any show of anger, even playful anger, could hurt the lad. “Well if they’re going to tell tales on me I think it only fair that I return the favour don’t you Harry, lad?”
Harry shot his grandfather an uncertain look. “Are you mad?”
“Not really, just a bit embarrassed,” Ginger was quick to reply. Any hesitancy on his part would have the boy worrying again. Sitting down he patted his knee, inviting Harry to join him. Once the lad was settled, he cheerfully began his own tale telling, much to the chagrin of Algy and Bertie.
15th August, 1987
“Mr. Biggles,” Harry said “would you help me with my model?”
“Of course laddie,” Biggles easily replied. “Have you got all your things?”
“Yes sir, they’re on my table,” Harry replied. Upon furnishing the child’s room they had provided, upon the advice of the salesman, a small table with chairs. This would give Harry a place to work on whatever he might want to, be it drawing, his models, or later his schoolwork.
“Lead on laddie,” Biggles grinned. He had to admit, though he would never tell Ginger, he had been uncertain about bringing a child into their home. He had, of course, brought Ginger himself into his home as a child. He, however, had been a nearly grown lad of fifteen, not a small child of seven. He had worried that they were too advanced in age to keep up with an active child. Happily he had been proven wrong. While they might not move as quickly as in their younger years, it seemed it wasn’t the problem he had feared it would become.
25th August, 1987
“Grandfather, would you read to me?” Harry asked once he was ready for bed. Never having been read to before, not that he could remember, nor tucked in for the night; Harry had quickly decided this was his favourite part of the day.
“Of course Harry, lad,” Ginger smiled. Taking the Paddington book in one hand and Harry’s hand in the other, he led the boy to his bedroom. “In bed with you lad,” he said as he pulled back the covers.
Where many children would argue, Harry happily complied with the instruction. Snuggling down under the covers, he grinned up at his grandfather as the man gently tucked the blanket around him. “I like when you tuck me in Grandfather.”
“Oh and why is that Harry, lad?” Ginger asked with a smile.
“It’s feels like a hug and when I’m sleeping it’s as if you’re hugging me, keeping me safe,” Harry seriously replied.
Ginger was taken aback at the response. He didn’t know what he’d expected but it certainly hadn’t been the answer he’d received. “I’ll always do my best to keep you safe laddie,” he said after a momentary pause. Swallowing the sudden wave of emotion, he brought the book to his lap, opening it to the place last marked. “Now then, what do you say we find out what Paddington will get up to next?”
“Yes please,” Harry replied, a happy smile spreading over his face.
1st September 1987
Harry Potter, known in the muggle world as Harry Hebblethwaite, stood uncertainly in the play-yard. The morning had been pleasant enough. His new teacher Mr. Lowell was a nice man and here there was no Dudley to tease and bully him. Now though, now he was in the play-yard alone with the other children, with only one teacher to watch over them. Harry knew from his old school that even if the teacher were nice she couldn’t be everywhere at once.
“Hello, my name is Hermione Granger,” a bushy-haired girl from his class said.
Harry startled, he’d been so lost in his worries that he hadn’t noticed her until she spoke. “Hello, I’m Harry Hebblethwaite. It’s nice to meet you Hermione,” he politely responded, stumbling a bit over her name.
“Are they ignoring you too?”
“I don’t think so. Are they you?”
“They often do.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“It’s alright really,” Hermione assured him. “I don’t like to play some of the games they do.” She didn’t tell Harry that the usual reason for their behaviour had to do with her love of books and learning.
“Oh,” Harry said. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Would you like to swing?” he asked after a moment.
Hermione smiled her entire face lighting up. “I’d like that.”
They spent the rest of the break playing together. By the end of the period they were fast friends, swearing to remain friends forever.
TBC...
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A/N: I don't of course know if the park near their flat would have bike trails. If it doesn't please ignore the inaccuracy and chalk it up to dramatic liscence.
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Hidden Family