H.P:the Difference Between Brothers?

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"Morning, Harry," he croaked. His voice was hoarse and scratchy.

"Morning," Harry greeted.

James didn't even glance at the paper as he set it aside. Instead, he poured a cup of tea and downed it in one gulp. Then he refilled the cup and added a splash of milk.

Harry wondered if he had ever heard of coffee before, because he didn't look as though the tea was doing him any good.

"How was your weekend?" James finally asked as he started on his third cup.

By then, their food was on the table. Mippy had added a rasher of bacon to his eggs and toast, which he was happy to have.

"It was fine," said Harry.

"And how was Alex?"

He was horrible, Harry wanted to say. He destroyed my room, he thought. Before he came down, Harry noticed the rug had been scorched and the sofa's stuffing pulled out. But Harry remembered what happened every time he tried to tell anyone about the things Dudley would do to him. "He was fine," Harry said instead.

James eyed him like he didn't quite believe it, but let the lie stand. It was a point in his favour.

They lapsed into silence as they ate. James watched him subtly. Or tried to. Harry kept track of every time his eyes focused on him. There were questions there, Harry was sure of it. And he got the distinct feeling that James didn't like silence.

Eventually, Harry asked a question, unable to take the constant looks.

"The tailor yesterday," Harry said. "He said he was fitting us for robes. I tried looking it up in the library, but I couldn't really find anything. What did he mean?"

Harry might have over explained, given more information than he wanted to, but the relief on James' face was worth it. He launched into an explanation of clothing in the wizarding world.

Wizards wore long robes, he learned. Traditional ones were closed at the front and went all the way down to the feet. From the way James described them, they sounded like a more elegant version of something Gandalf might wear. The modern style was basically trousers and a shirt with the robes being either completely open at the front or closed only to the waist in the way the ones Harry had been given were. The lengths of modern robes could vary from ending anywhere around the thighs down to touching the floor. Wizards and witches also wore cloaks over them, especially when out in public.

From there, Harry steered the conversation to Hogwarts. He listened as James described all the different branches of magic he would get to study when he started school. It all sounded absolutely fascinating.

It was an odd thing, to be included in a conversation, let alone be the sole focus of it. It was also nice, but Harry was still cautious with his questions. James was an unknown, and after Alex's abrupt change in the middle of the Quidditch match the other day, It made Harry even more wary of James.

But, he talked with James, even offering opinions here and they. By the time Alex joined them, they had found an easy rapport. Harry was actually laughing at some of the stories James was telling him.

Upon seeing Alex, James glanced down at his watch.

"I'm running late again!" he said and jumped up from the table. "I hate to ask, but please stay inside, Harry. I'll be back around five, and I'll give you a tour of the grounds then."

"I'd like that," Harry said honestly.

James grasped Alex on the shoulder and leaned down to whisper something in his ear. It made Alex frown and glare at Harry. Once he was done, James dashed out of the room. A moment later, Harry heard what he now recognized as the whoosh of the floo.

Alex glared at him as he sat down at the table.

"He'll see right through your little act," Alex spat.

Confused, Harry asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Everything you said yesterday, about how much you hate him. Now here you are cozying up to him."

"I never said I hated him," Harry pointed out.

"You implied it."

"You're delusional," Harry said and stood up from the table.

Alex growled at him.

Harry rolled his eyes. Dudley was much more threatening. "I don't have to put up with this," he said and left the room.

The storage room was exactly how he left it, down to the knocked over alarm clock on the table.

The snakes had wandered off, likely exploring more of the room. He settled in on the sofa and grabbed Potions Fundamentals, A Beginners Guide off the shelf where he'd stored it. It was the book he'd taken from the disused potions lab.

After talking to James, he was curious about the subjects he would be studying. The dry history books and confusing etiquette rules were getting a bit stale.

At precisely nine o'clock, Mippy popped into the room with a fresh pot of tea.

He sat the book aside, and asked if she could stay and help him clean out more of the room. It was cosy, but a little cramped. After a lifetime living in a cupboard, he craved space to move around.

"Of course, Little Master Harry. Mippy would be happy to help," he said in her squeaky voice.

"And could you maybe drop the little?"

"Mippy will, Master Harry."

With a snap of her fingers, the layers of dust vanished from the room. It was instantly brighter.

Together, the two of them moved more of the dilapidated furniture out of the way. It was infinitely easier with her help, as she could vanish the unsalvageable furniture or move things with a snap of her fingers.

Once all the bookshelves and overturned wardrobes were neatly lining the walls, they stacked the trunks up out of the way. It left plenty of space to move around, with more than enough space to reach everything. They even found an old rug, which Mippy rolled out beneath his little sitting area.

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