Back For The First Time, Harry?

Summer at Skyreach

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"Come on, Harry," the older boy wheedled. "Let us in!" Another round of pounding rained upon the old door. Harry quickly shoved his trunk under his bed, and just in case, his wand under a floorboard.

"Let us in, freak!" Johnson hollered in that clear-as-day Cockney accent. So he had joined up arms with Bill, then. Harry sat miserably on his bed and looked up at the droopy ceiling, wishing desperately that it was already September first.

It was not, of course. Today was only June twenty-fourth and it'd been barely a week since Harry had been to Diagon Alley. Once the other boys had heard that he was off to a private boarding school come fall, they'd become relentless in their standard bullying, not to mention the new theme that Harry must be a poofter, if he was going to go to boarding school.

He couldn't exactly sit down their type and explain how bisexuality was completely fine and acceptable, when he knew from experience how that would go. The Dursleys hadn't been fond of anything different. Once, just once, Harry had defended a gay man on the telly that Uncle Vernon was verbally abusing. Had taken over a year for him to hear the end of that one.

He obviously never risked telling his relatives he was bisexual, after his rude awakening in third year. Harry'd kept it a closely guarded secret until he began to notice that that particular prejudice wasn't present in the wizarding world.

Just blood supremacy, Harry thought tiredly.

"Wait till focking dinner bell!" Bill shouted and the door shook as he kicked at it in frustration. "Lads'll give you a right good kicking for supper, how's that?" And he was clomping away with Johnson following, stampeding down the straining stairwell.

Harry waited until the sound of them had long faded before unlatching the many hooks of the door. He wondered what this room had been used for before it was an orphanage, for it to have so many locks.

It creaked open just a bit, to reveal a completely empty hall down to the disappearing stairs. Debating on how much it was worth it, he made a break for it, skidding down the four flights and into the main hall. He saw one of the caretakers, a man with the beginnings of a hunchback, lurking by the feeding hall's door. It was nearly dinnertime after all. Harry weighed his stealth abilities and again made a break for it- straight out of the main hall into the gated courtyard.

And then right out of the rusted gate into London proper.

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It was worth the walk, Harry thought as he took a deep breath of spices and warm meat.

The stalls were steamy, alluring. One man was rotating an enormous pan larger than Harry's whole body, filled with yellow rice, and another was pouring the sauce in that made the pan hiss and bubble. A third man bustled over with an apron and a large stirring spoon. It smelt spicy and rich.

A rattling, deafening train passed by overhead but that didn't interrupt the fluidity of the market.

Borough Market was one of the first discoveries Harry had made living in London, mostly because it was so infamously spoken of, and secondly because Harry was very often hungry.

Currently he was most attracted to hot, sugared nuts, only a trader away. Ah, just his luck! They were indeed handing out samples.

If you are as shameless as Harry, you can easily fill up on sampling from the many offers at Borough. With a paper cup half full of honey-roasted peanuts he began to make his rounds, managing to scarf down an array of impressive cheeses, cold meats, and a couple warm hunks of bread.