Querencia

A decade goes by

30st July 1991, Central London.

Harry Potter hated London. The grimy streets make him cringe and the teeth chattering cold, only made worse by the constant rain and his lack of layers, made him want to shrivel up into a ball till his feet felt numb and his fingers turned blue in a hopeless attempt to stay warm.

Yet, he still came back. Every morning of every day.

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The CPS corner of the tall brown multi purpose building was a place that many had come to dread. A place where both the hopeful and the hopeless had many times crossed paths but by the end, a lucky few left the building in good spirits.

Harry Potter never had been or ever will be in his opinion one of those lucky few.

As he stood, shadowed and miniscule compared to the impending brick tower in front of him, he couldn't help but repress another shiver pulling his ratty jacket closer in a vain attempt to stop the cold from getting through.

With a old and broken phone in one hand and a small but handy bundle of cash in the other, he sighed.

It was time to face the noise.

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The pristine white walls and endless stale food smell had never been on ones favourite senses to experience and to Harry, they just felt one thousand times worse.

He felt suffocated. The spotless white walls, the uncomfortable metal grey chairs, the insistent clanking of the keyboards keys being pressed, they all seemed so fake and always seemed to drive him to the edge.

It felt like he was in a hospital.

Though, they weren't far off.

Harry slumped further in his chair. Reaching behind sighing once more, he gently massaged his aching shoulders and once again cursed himself for making the decision to carry such a heavy bag.

He had gotten kicked out of another home. Again.

Great.

It wasn't his fault. It never was yet he was always told it was. It always made him think, was it really his fault? Was he the one who had it all wrong?

Harry shook his head. No, there was no point dwelling on the past. What's done is done.

And he'd just have to live with it.

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The receptionist had sent yet another dirty look his way.

Her brown eyes had narrowed, her nose twitched and her lips curled up in disgust.

Harry had only bit his lip and looked up at the peeling ceiling.

He needed to get out.

How long would he play along?

Till however long it took to get out.

"Mr Potter." A high pitched voice called out jolting him out of his thoughts. He had only shifted and looked down fidgeting with his fingers not wanting to face the receptionist just in case she'd give him another one of her glares.. "Mr Bentley will see you now."

Harry nodded slightly. Slowly standing up, he swung his back across his shoulders and walked down the narrow corridor. Strolling past the many blue doors, he stopped and tilted his head slightly when he reached a particular one. This was it.