Dear ones,

This year's Christmas story is starting a little earlier, as I will be on vacation from 2 December and the final chapter is due on 24 December in any case. I can't say exactly how many chapters there will be. Today is only 30.10, but that officially marks the start of the Christmas season for me. It's my first try in english, so be nice^^

Have fun reading

Your Anne

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Nine-year-old Harry Potter tightened his legs. Slowly, he was really starting to freeze. He buried his arms deeper into his winter jacket, which was actually much too big. He sat in his hiding place under the little bridge in a park in the middle of London. Soon it would be evening and then Paul would come to get him. The boy had been living on the streets for over a year. He had just been eight when he had run away from his aunt and uncle's house. He couldn't stand the beatings, the hunger and the humiliation any more. So he had simply left and never turned back. For the first few days he had sought shelter in abandoned houses or in the forest until he had reached London. Here he had been stranded at Kings Cross station and hid from the police. He knew they would bring him back, no one would believe him, because no one had, even at primary school. His uncle was skilled at lying and manipulating others and so no one had ever believed Harry when he had told them about his life in Privet Drive. So he had hidden, gone underground in the anonymity of the station and if it hadn't been Paul, who knows if he would still be alive.

Flashback - 1.5 years ago in Kings Cross

Paul had been living on the streets for over 20 years and he would be lying if he said he didn't like it. He loved the freedom the street offered and the community among the other homeless people here. Kings Cross station was the perfect place to beg, especially in winter or on the hottest days of summer, like right now. It was pleasantly cool here and people were surprisingly generous. By now it was late evening and Paul and his friends, Max, Andrew and Mary were packing up their few belongings to head home. Home meant the big park nearby. Here they had camped under a bridge that spanned a small man-made canal. There wasn't much going on at the station in the evenings and at night, and they knew that the men from the security company preferred them not to spend the nights here, even if they, tolerated them during the day. Paul and the others never caused any trouble, were reasonably well groomed and didn't bother anyone. Paul, soon to be fifty, thought he was too old to start trouble with others anyway. He pushed through his aching back while Max and Andrew packed up their blankets and Mary, put her dog Bone on a leash. Bone was a large mongrel who belonged to them as a matter of course. He was their guard at night, warmed them on cold days and people were even more likely to give money for him than for Paul and the others.

"I'm going to the toilet. Are you waiting outside?" Paul wanted to know.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll organise some sandwiches and a piece of meat for Bone, won't I, Bone?" Mary said and scratched the dog behind the ear, which he commented on with a quiet whimper.

"Okay do that and I'll see you outside," Paul said, shouldering his backpack and heading for the toilets while Max, Andrew and Mary walked towards the exit.
It was already very empty in the station hall, only a few cleaners crossed Paul's path and gave him a friendly nod. Paul returned the greeting and then entered the gents. He was alone, set down his backpack and stood at the urinal. When he had finished, he washed his hands and was about to reach for his backpack when he heard a soft whimper. Confused, he turned around. Where was the sound coming from? He looked towards the cabins, all the doors were open, all but one at the very back. He put the backpack back on the floor and went to the closed door. The latch was forward, but that was no obstacle for Paul. He took a biro out of his jacket pocket and pushed it into the small gap, thus opening the latch. When he looked into the cubicle, he faltered. A child was crouching next to the toilet bowl. A little boy by the look of him. Narrow, with tousled black hair and glasses. He was pale as a sheet and looked fearfully at Paul.

"Hey little one, what are you doing here all alone? Are you lost?" the child shook his head.

"Where are your parents?"

"D-dead ...", the boy stammered.

"Mhm ... where do you live then?", a shrug of the shoulders was the answer.

"Okay, there are two policemen out there somewhere, shall I take you to them? I'm sure you'll find a nice home..."

"NO," the child's call came as a complete surprise. Paul flinched.

"N-Not to the police ... please don't. They'll take me back to my aunt and uncle. Please don't, they'll hurt me. I don't want to go back, but no one believes me," the boy sobbed, tears running down his cheeks.

"Shh ... okay all right, I won't take you to them, but you can't stay here, soon the cleaners will come and they will surely hand you over to the Bobbies. Come on, I'll take you to see me and my friends," Paul said, holding out his hand. Harry hesitated and the man could understand all too well.

"I promise I won't hurt you, okay? I'm sure you have no reason to trust me, but ... OK, so my name is Paul or Pauli, and yours?"

"H-Harry ..."

"Harry? That's a nice name, so Harry you only have two choices, either come with me or stay here, but if you stay here they're sure to find you. I can try to distract them, but I'm afraid I'm not so good at that," Paul said gently, still holding out his hand. Harry still seemed unsure, but then reached for the man's calloused hand. The latter pulled the child to his feet. Harry was far too thin, the clothes he wore were ragged and several sizes too big, the trousers alone only held up with some kind of rope. It was high summer and not exactly cold, not even here, and yet the boy was shivering. Paul pulled him out of the cabin, but after only a few steps Harry's legs simply buckled away. Only now did Paul understand what was going on. The child must be starving and dying of thirst. His lips were chapped and cracked. The water here in the toilets was undrinkable and he was unlikely to get near the drinking fountains that existed at the station. Paul leaned him against the wall, hurried to his backpack and fished a water bottle out of it. He twisted off the cap and held it to Harry's lips.

"Here, drink," he said, and the boy did. Greedily, he drank half the bottle.

"That's it, when was the last time you ate something?", Paul wanted to know, but Harry just shrugged. The man nodded with a sigh. What was he supposed to do? First he had to get the child out of here, get him something to eat and then they would see. He went back to his backpack and took out the blanket.

"Okay, I'll wrap you up in here and take you in my arms and then we'll get out of here quickly. My friends are waiting outside and I promise you nothing will happen to you. You just have to be really quiet, okay?" it took a few moments, but then Harry nodded cautiously. Paul walked back over to him and put the blanket around him, put his backpack back on and lifted the child up. Harry weighed even less than he had thought. He now threw the blanket over the boy's head as well.

"Everything will be fine, you just have to be quiet now, okay?", he felt a slight nod on his shoulder. Paul took a deep breath, then pushed open the door of the toilet. The cleaners were busy at the other end of the hall. He hugged the boy to him and hurried towards the exit. Outside the door he looked around and spotted Max and Andrew standing leaning against a lantern with Bone. Looking around, Paul ran to them.

"Hey, where's Mary?" he asked hurriedly.

"Uh ... over there she comes," Max said irritably. Mary was indeed coming towards them with two paper bags.

"So I have everything that ... Pauli, what have you got there?" the older woman wanted to know. Paul pulled the blanket off Harry's face a little. The boy had clung to him and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

"Who is that?", Andrew wanted to know gently.

"Later, we have to get out of here first, come on!" said Paul and hurried towards the park. The others looked at each other in confusion, but followed.

"How do you imagine it now?" asked Max as they sat together later in their camp under the bridge. Harry was sleeping in Paul's arms, wrapped tightly in a blanket. They had gotten the half-starved child some soup and some ointment for wounds, because the little boy had wounds all over his body. Paul was glad that they had made quite a lot of money that day. Harry didn't have much, but what he had told them made the adults' hair stand on end.

"We'll raise him," Paul said seriously. Max shook his head slightly.

"How are we supposed to raise an eight-year-old? He has to go to school, needs a roof over his head and can't hang out with bums like us," he said.

"We're not bums," Mary said sternly and Bone growled in agreement.

"Yeah, not then, but do you think we're the right people to raise a child?"

"Maybe not, but ... but who does he have? I can teach him, you know I was a teacher, and he will certainly get more love from us than he has ever experienced. At least for a while he should stay with us and then we'll see. If we take him to the police in a few months, I'm sure they won't take him back to his horrible relatives, because they never looked for him either," Mary said. Max sighed deeply.

"What do you say Andrew?" the light grey mottled man sitting close to Paul shrugged his shoulders.

"My childhood was bad and if I can now contribute to the little one maybe having a better one, I'll be happy to do that," he said smiling and squeezing Paul's forearm.

"All right, I'll bow to the majority. But how is that going to happen? We can't take him begging with us, we can't even look at how fast they'll take him then," Max said thoughtfully.

"One of us could stay here with him or we could take turns. Once he gets used to it, I'm sure he can stay on his own," Paul said, stroking Harry's forehead gently.

"Strange scar, isn't it?" asked Mary, looking at the man, who nodded.

"Mhm ... is probably from the car accident in which his parents died," he said.

"Anyway, let's go to sleep, we have a lot of things to do tomorrow," Max said and slipped into his sleeping bag.

"I see, and what?" Andrew wanted to know.

"Well, we have a child now. The boy needs food regularly and, above all, clothes. That also means we have to go begging and I'll try to wheedle some children's clothes out of Sally, that'll work," Max said and yawned.

"Yes, you're right, so let's go to sleep then," Pauli said, laying Harry next to him on the old mattress and throwing another blanket over them both, rather pulling the boy tightly against him.

Flashback end

More than a year had passed since that day. Harry had found his way in his new life. Paul was like a father or a big brother to him, just like Andrew and Max. Mary, was not only his teacher, but also his best friend. In the first weeks, it was mainly her who stayed with him in the camp while the others begged. She taught him and helped him to slowly forget the hard years with the Dursleys. They had got him clothes and books. Almost everything through the Salvation Army. Max kept flirting with Sally Underwood, who ran Salvation Army. He had told her that they supported an acquaintance who was alone with her son, hardly had any money, but didn't dare ask for help. So Harry had something proper to wear, books and crayons to pass the time. At some point he was left alone. At lunchtime, one of the others would come and bring him something to eat, before they all returned in the evening. But for some months now, this was no longer possible. The police and the park rangers tolerated the homeless, because they also made sure to keep their camp tidy, but now they came by more often in the morning to check if everything was OK, because they knew that Paul and the others were not there. But that also meant that Harry couldn't stay there, otherwise they would have discovered him long ago. A few months ago, they had discovered a small bridge in another park, under which there was only room for one child and where no policeman or warden would pass by. Harry now hid here during the day while the others begged. At weekends, when there was no school and Harry didn't attract attention, he walked through the park, went to the playground and mingled with the other people as a matter of course. He had also begged again and again to be allowed to go to the station, but Paul had forbidden it, the danger that the police would become aware of him was too big. But Harry Potter was not wanted. There were no search reports, no advertisements in the newspaper or anything like that. It was as if he had never had another life.
But the colder it got, the more uncomfortable it became under the bridge. Harry had a blanket with him, but that soon didn't help either. It was approaching Christmas and it had already snowed. The last winter had been mild, but this year it seemed to be much colder. Harry pulled his knees in a little more and coughed slightly when he heard the whistle. Smiling, he jumped up, stuffed his book and blanket into the small backpack he always carried and climbed out from under the bridge and up the small embankment. Paul stood at the top and grinned.

"Well, little one, are you all right?" he wanted to know and reached for the child's hand.

"Hey Pauli, how was it today?", Harry wanted to know and walked next to the man, holding his hand.

"Very good! People are always very generous before Christmas. Tell me, was it too cold today? Your hands are freezing," Paul wanted to know.

"Mhm ... it was okay. Just a little at the end," Harry said quickly.

"We'll definitely get you a new scarf, the old one has holes all over it," Paul said and walked with Harry by the hand along the road to the entrance of the large park near the station. They had hardly entered the park when Paul saw two policemen coming towards them not a hundred metres away. The two were deep in conversation and in the dim light they had certainly not seen Harry.

"Quick, hide," Paul murmured and pushed Harry away from him. The boy understood and jumped behind a nearby bush. He made himself as small as possible and held his breath.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Paul said and nodded with a smile. The two Bobbies nodded as well.

"Good evening, cold today, isn't it?" one of them asked.

"Yes, but it's all right. We have warm sleeping bags and a small stove," said Paul.

"Well, if there's anything, you know where to find us," said the other and Paul nodded. Immediately the two policemen disappeared. Paul waited a few more moments, then bent over the bush and lifted Harry out.

"Well done," he said and put the woolly hat back on the child's head properly.

"So come on, let's hurry," he said, pulling Harry towards the bridge.

"Ah, there you are!" cried Mary, as Bone came running up excitedly, almost knocking Harry over.

"Hey Bone, are you all right?" he said and stroked the dog.

"Dinner's ready!" shouted Max, distributing noodles on bowls.

"Well Harry, how was your day?" Andrew wanted to know after the boy had sat down with him on one of the mattresses and accepted a bowl of food from Max.

"Quite good, a bit boring. Got my book out," he said, chewing.

"Then I guess Santa will have to bring you a new one," Mary said with a smile.

"Mary, Santa doesn't exist," Harry said.

"What? Well, I don't see it that way. I've already seen him," the woman said cryptically.

"You're crazy," Harry said and laughed.

"Me? Never! I'm telling you, it exists and it gets you something. Last year you got something too, didn't you?"

"Yes, but ...", Harry said thoughtfully. Indeed, on Christmas morning, crayons and a colouring pad had been lying in front of the stove. Both were wrapped in newspaper and Paul, Max, Andrew and Mary had denied that she had put them there.

"You see. So what do you wish for?", Mary wanted to know, while Paul ate his noodles, smiling mildly. Of course, they had got the crayons and paper, but agreed that they wanted the little boy to believe at least a little that there was such a thing as Santa and magic, because reality was dreary enough for a child like Harry.

"Mhm ... I don't know. I ... I've never had a teddy bear or something like that before ... well, Bone is okay, but one of those I could take under my bridge would be great," Harry said hesitantly.

"Sure, that sounds good. Tomorrow we'll write a wish list together and then I'm sure Santa will bring you one," Mary said.

"Don't look so offended Bone, you can still cuddle with him here," Max said and stroked the dog's head.

"Yes, speaking of which. It's time to sleep, off you go," Paul said.

"Already?" whined Harry.

"Yeah, it's really late and we have to get up early tomorrow. The holidays have started and that means there are more people at the station," Paul explained as he put some fresh water on a piece of fabric and washed Harry's face and hands with it before putting a toothbrush in his hand.

"Right holiday!" said Harry, brushing his teeth after a stern look from the man.

"Can I come with you, please ... please!" he pleaded after rinsing his mouth.

"What?", Paul wanted to know.

"Come with you to the station. It's the holidays, please take me with you. I won't attract attention!"

"Gnome, of course you stand out when you hang out with four old bums," Max said.

"You are not bums, you are my family. Please, Pauli, please! I'll make myself invisible too," Harry continued to beg. Paul sighed, took off Harry's jacket and put a hoodie over him, then sat him on his mattress, took off his shoes and put him in the thick sleeping bag.

"Oh kiddo, turn invisible, you know you can't," he said, stroking Harry's forehead.

"Please Pauli ...", the man took Harry's glasses from him and put them on the side. Then he bent down and kissed the boy's forehead.

"We will see and now sleep," he said.

"I love you," Harry said, yawning and turning on his side.

"Me too little one," Paul said.

"Go on Bone," Mary said and immediately the dog trotted over to Harry, lay down beside him and rested his head on his legs.

"Maybe we should," Paul said when they had sat in silence for a while.

"Take him with us?" Andrew wanted to know in surprise.

"Yes, it's getting too cold in his hiding place. When I went to get him, he was freezing. It's warm in the station. Last winter he was always here in the camp by the stove, so it was different, but now."

"But what if Sally or the cops ask who he is?" mused Mary.

"Maybe my nephew. We'll say we're just looking after him while my sister works or something."

"Oh yes, very inspiring. Do you have a sister at all?" Max wanted to know.

"Yes I did," Paul said sadly. Andrew slid closer to him and gave him a gentle kiss.

"Don't worry, darling. We'll take care of it," he said. Paul nodded and stroked his boyfriend's grey stubble.

"All right then, it's decided, we'll take him with us. If necessary, we'll throw a blanket over him if someone comes, we'll think of something," said Mary, standing up and stretching.

"Sleep well," she said and crawled into her sleeping bag.

"You too," Max said and followed suit, while Paul and Andrew lay down on another mattress next to Harry. Andrew wrapped an arm around Paul, who put two thick blankets over them.

"I know you're afraid for him, but ... but we can't always protect him, you know that," Andrew whispered. Paul turned in his arm and kissed him again.

"Yes I know, but I can try," he said and Andrew nodded with a smile. Soon only Bone's light snoring could be heard as white flakes covered the ground around the lonely bridge.