Save The Date (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Six (III)

III

The cuckoo clock on the bedside cabinet began to rattle as the gears and levers sprung to life, announcing the impending chime of the hour. But Harry was already awake, and he rolled over heavily to watch as the small bird burst forth from behind his little door, chirping eight times as the tiny bell rang in time over his head. "Morning Harry," he said once he was done, hopping on his perch.

Harry rubbed his eyes and sighed. He'd been half awake for quite some time, dozing in and out of a fitful night's sleep. "Morning," he mumbled, managing a partial smile. It wasn't the cuckoo's fault after all that he was in a bad mood.

The bird though seemed to guess Harry wasn't feeling like having a chat, and with a nod and a flutter of his wings, his perch retracted into the clock where he would wait for another hour. Harry had once asked him what he did in between announcing the time, and had been subjected to a full hour of looking through miniature scrap books of different types of bird seeds. He'd never asked again.

Right then, all he wanted to do was snuggle back down under his thick, comfy duvet, all warm and toasty, but his mind was so fractious after sleeping so poorly he knew he'd just lie there getting grumpier if he didn't do something. So he sighed, flung the covers back and stretched with a big yawn. His feet found his big squishy slippers, shaped like Christmas puddings, and he slid out of his bed to open the fluffy red curtains. Bright sunshine spilled inside his small bedroom, and he looked out over the snowy landscape, feeling a bit more like himself again.

He had a beautiful view from every window in his cottage, either of the forest on one side, or the mountains on the other. It was mostly just him at the moment there to appreciate it, but he hoped that would change before too long. He'd love to share his home with someone else.

As he stood at the window though, that thought made him frown again. Had he been dreaming of a 'someone else'? If so, why hadn't that left him feeling happy? He shrugged, and plodded across the room, opening the door to head into the open kitchen and living area in his mince-pie patterned pyjamas.

Several mice were busy on the counter top, scurrying about with eggs and milk and shakers of cinnamon. One was tending a frying pan on the hob, whilst another was juggling metal cutters shaped like holy and snowflakes. Harry stopped short in surprise.

"Guys," he said fondly. "You didn't have to make me breakfast!"

They all froze and looked up, then all started squeaking at once.

"You were snuffling!"

"And shouting!"

"And having bad dreams!"

"We wanted to help, but didn't know how!"

"Food helps though!"

"Oh yes, food helps!"

"Are you hungry?"

"We made pancakes!"

"Sooo many pancakes!"

Harry had to laugh as he noticed the big wooden table, which was heaving with several stacks of pancakes, like his housemates had said, but also bowls of chocolate sauce, marshmallows, hundreds and thousands, and all kinds of brightly coloured sweets. The smell of honey and nutmeg filled the house alongside the fresh batter that was being poured into the hot pan; several of the mice working together so they didn't spill a drop.

One of the older mice crept up, wringing her hands in concern. "Elves do like pancakes, don't they?" she asked worriedly.

Harry's face broke into a huge grin. "Absolutely, of course they do! Thank you." He smiled warmly at his friends. "And I know for a fact mice like cheese." He crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a special block of aged gouda he'd been saving, and unwrapping it for all the mice to smell.

"Oh heavenly!" the older mouse chirped amongst several cries and squeals of delight, before one little mouse actually swooned and Harry had to catch her before she tumbled off the counter.

They all sat down at the table together and had a hearty breakfast. Harry must have eaten ten pancakes, all with different toppings, and he had to stop himself before he ate any more. He wouldn't want to be too full for elevenses after all!

The mice promised to do all the washing and tidying up, it was in their nature after all, but Harry still felt a twinge of guilt as he was shooed off into the bathroom. He had to admit though, he very much enjoyed his cranberry scented bubble bath, and by the time he was putting on his uniform he was in a slightly better mood than when he had been roused by his cuckoo clock.

He was still troubled though as he pulled on his snow boots and gloves, thinking of why he had slept so badly. He was sure he had had a nightmare, but what it had been about, or why it had left him feeling so uneasy, he really couldn't say.

Strings of multi-coloured lights lined his walk into town and reflected off the fresh snow. Harry almost felt bad as he walked along, leaving deep footprint blemishes in his wake. The sun was shining brightly and the comforting scent of baking cookies wafted through the air, but Harry was still glum as he made his way to work.