Foreshadowing the Unexpected

Chapter Two - Realizations

There are two types of people--those who come into a room and say, "Well, here I am!" and those who come in and say, "Ah, there you are." --Frederick L. Collins

Rupert emerged from Ian's room twenty minutes later, looking freshly scrubbed and wearing what Zack recognized as a designer tracksuit. Zack wondered wildly what in the name of Merlin this boy needed with a tracksuit, when it was obvious that exercise was a foreign concept to him. He kept his thoughts to himself, however, and politely helped Ivy with her chair as they sat down to lunch.

Nobody really thought twice about it when Dobby appeared, levitating a platter of sandwiches onto the table, until Rupert spotted him. Not sure if the bat-eared creature at the other end of the table tended to attack when provoked, Rupert leaned toward Quentin, who was seated to his left.

"What is that?" he asked quietly.

"What is what?" Quentin replied, then followed Rupert's gaze across the table. "Oh, that's just a house elf. They're like servants, usually bound to one family and one house for their whole lives. Not Dobby, though; he's employed by the Potters."

Quentin was pleased to have done some small part to help educate this new boy, and perhaps put him in a better frame of mind. He had behaved abominably since his arrival, though Quentin reasoned that such a rough Floo experience was bound to put anyone out of sorts.

"It's a servant?" Rupert perked up at these words.

"Yes," Quentin said uneasily. He didn't like the glint in the other boy's eye all of a sudden. "He is."

Rupert nodded absently, and Quentin turned his attention away from the other boy, and concentrated on the conversation going on around the table. Ivy was talking to Connor's dad about her broom. It had been pulling downward a bit ever since a Bludger had hit it last year.

"I'll have a look at it," Harry said. "And give it a tune-up if you want."

"That would be great!" Ivy enthused. Harry's company, Dog Star Brooms, made her Sirius Elite broomstick. That broomstick was her pride and joy. She had spent all of last summer saving up to purchase it, and thought it was worth every minute of work she'd done to earn it.

"It's no problem," he assured her. "A simple Bludger hit really shouldn't have damaged it that much. I'd like to see if it's a design flaw, a faulty charm, or just a fluke. We might be able to tweak it a little bit, as well, to better suit your frame."

"Could you please have a look at my broom as well, Mr Potter?" Quentin asked. "Just to make sure it's in top shape for this season?"

"You're flying a Windblazer, aren't you? Which model?" Harry asked with interest.

"A 5000, sir," Quentin answered. "My, er, my father didn't want to..."

"Buy a broom built by me?" Harry grinned when Quentin blushed and nodded. There was no sting to his words; he understood that Draco Malfoy would rather eat flobberworms than admit that Dog Star made the best brooms anywhere. "I'd actually like to have a go on it, if you don't mind; see how it compares."

"More juice," Rupert said at his end of the table, when Dobby passed near him.

Dobby trembled slightly, but nodded and turned to summon the flagon of pumpkin juice from the counter. He filled Rupert's glass, and backed away almost timidly.

"Rupert," Harry said calmly. "This is Dobby. He works for us, helping with various chores. And," he added with a wink to the elf, "he bakes the best cinnamon bread I've ever tasted."

Dobby beamed at Harry and said politely to Rupert, "I is pleased to meet you."

"You is?" Rupert smiled nastily.

"Of course, young master," Dobby answered uncertainly.

"Well that's something, then," Rupert answered, and looked away from Dobby dismissively to drink from his newly refilled glass. "What is it you were saying? You build brooms?"

"That's right," Harry said evenly. He cast an apologetic look to Dobby, and nodded to him in a signal that meant that they could look after themselves now.

"What on earth for?" Rupert asked incredulously. "My father told me that you probably did something abnormal or criminal to support your family, but making brooms? How do you afford to live like this from making brooms?"

All of the children at the table were staring at Rupert open-mouthed. Ian looked angry, and leaned over and whispered something in Adam's ear. Adam nodded, and Ian looked somewhat relieved.

"I don't think that Rupert understands," Ginny said to the others after a pause. "Your father is mistaken," she said to Rupert. "Mr Potter and my bother, Ron, build racing brooms; they're meant to be flown."

"And they're the best brooms in the world," Lucy said aggressively. It was very odd for Lucy to be that forceful, especially around strangers, but Rupert seemed to have rubbed her the wrong way. "There's nothing criminal or abnormal about it. Professional Quidditch players wait on the list for months just to get their hands on a broom made by my father!"

The other kids were nodding in agreement, but Rupert didn't look the least bit impressed. "You're telling me that witches really do ride broomsticks?"

"And Wizards," Quentin answered.

"And what is quizzage?" Rupert asked.

"Quidditch is a Wizarding sport," Zack answered him. "It's brilliant! It's played in the air on broomsticks, and there are three types of balls, and seven players to a team, and the team that catches...."

"A sport played in the air?" Rupert interrupted. "Sounds like a lot of rubbish, if you ask me. I don't like sports, much."

"Well duh," Ian said under his breath.

Rachel and Connor tried hard not to laugh, and Quentin got his laughter under control pretty quickly. Ivy grinned and winked at Ian, and Adam still looked angry.

"I think that you might change your mind when you actually see it played," Zack told Rupert, deeply ingrained manners insisting that he try his best to be kind. "It's really very exciting. Before I found out I was a Wizard, I didn't really like sports much, either, except for a bit of cricket at school, but Quidditch is different from anything you've ever seen before."

Rupert looked sceptical still, but said nothing, except that he was tired and wanted to lie down. He left the table without asking to be excused, and thumped up the stairs and into Ian's room, where he closed the door.

"I hate him," Adam said at once.

"Me too," Ian agreed. "Why does he have to stay here all week? Can't we send him back home until it's time to take him to the train?"

"Because it was part of the arrangement I made with his father," Harry answered, sounding sorry that he'd made any such deal.

"His father probably just wanted to get rid of him," Lucy said acidly. "Imagine saying that he thought you were a criminal! And did you see how he treated Dobby? He's acted like a prat since he got here!"

"He's only been here for a little over an hour," Ginny said.

"That leaves one hundred and ninety one hours left until the train leaves," Rachel said gloomily. "Maybe we could just Stupefy him, and wake him up in time to go and get our school things."

"We are not going to stun any of our guests," Ginny said firmly. "You've all said that you were going to try to be nice to him. I know he's been a little abrasive since he got here, but he's probably just testing his boundaries and trying to figure everything out. Besides, I've talked to Remus, and he said that your booklists should be here on Monday, so we can plan on going to Diagon Alley then. That will give you all something to look forward to."

"That should be fun," Connor said to his friends.

"I'll Floo all the Weasleys later and see if we can't just get everyone's shopping done on the same day. Maggie, Patrick and Rupert will all need everything from the ground up, so to speak, so it would make sense to split up into groups to get everything done faster," Harry said.

"That sounds like a good plan," Ginny said. When she looked at everyone's gloomy faces, she said, "It won't be so bad, you'll see."

"Well I'm not sharing a room with him," Ian said defiantly. "I'll stay in Adam's room until he leaves. Then he'll have his own room, just like he wanted, and we'll both be happy."

"You can have my room," Lucy offered. "I'm going to Floo Aunt Hermione and see if I can stay over there with Gwen."

"Look," Harry said at last, trying to ward off the mutiny he smelled brewing over Rupert. "It's Saturday. Why don't we all get our brooms and go outside for a bit. That way I'll be able to check out everyone's brooms, and see what needs to be done to any of them."

"That's a good idea," Ginny agreed. "That way we won't disturb Rupert while he's resting, either, and maybe when he's more refreshed, he'll have a whole new outlook on things."

Connor snorted, but otherwise kept his opinion on that to himself. If they were going to be forced to endure Rupert's presence for the entire week, then he wanted to spend as much time alone with is friends as he could. However, he thought to himself, it shouldn't be too hard to ditch him for a couple of hours each day while he and his friends explored the countryside. There was a bit of a stream not too far away where they could swim, or at least play in the water, and with any luck, Rupert wouldn't want to walk that far. He seemed to be the sort who didn't like to do things for himself if he could help it.

Everyone carried their dishes to the sink, and Ginny set them to washing themselves. They all collected their brooms as quietly as possible; they didn't want Rupert coming out and demanding to join them. Harry brought Adam and Ian's up out of his workshop, and fastened the tether that they used to keep Adam from injury should he fall off. He complained loudly that he was too old to be tied to his broom like a baby, but quickly gave in after a stern look from his mother.

It didn't matter that they had spent half of yesterday in the air; this was heaven! Quentin was thrilled when Ginny offered to share some tips from her brief time as a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. She went through some drills with him and Connor, and told them which weak spots that they needed to look out for. Ivy and Zack listened attentively, as did Lucy and Ian, who decided to play opposite them when an old Quaffle was brought out. Harry worked with Adam a little way apart from the others, schooling him on controlling his speed and stopping without being thrown (a problem the boy still suffered from). At one point, Connor flew past Ian's window to retrieve an overthrown Quaffle, and saw Rupert standing there, watching them, but when he turned around, the window was empty.

Connor watched with a smile as his father rode each of his friends' brooms around, trying different manoeuvres on them. He was especially rigorous with Quentin's broom, and put it through a series of stunts that had the children all cheering by the time he was satisfied.

Tired from a day of flying, everyone finally returned to the house when Ginny insisted that dinner needed to be started on. Lucy went to Floo her cousin Gwen, to try to wangle an invitation to spend the night, and Adam and Ian went in search of a before-dinner snack. Harry invited the others down to the basement workshop so that he could look their brooms over, now that he had seen them in action. This was a rare treat, as Harry was usually very firm on his rules of 'no kids in the workshop unless they're working.' He considered the room his private get-away, and only his best friend Ron could enter it whenever he fancied.

Connor and Rachel sat in a battered old couch against the wall, while Zack, Ivy and Quentin got a miniature lesson in broom manufacturing. Their guests listened eagerly to every word his father had to say, Connor thought as he listened with half an ear. He had heard all of this and more; even before going to work everyday at Dog Star's factory, and so he merely relaxed as he enjoyed his friend's reactions to learning how many charms actually went into each broom they built. Connor was looking forward to the day when he would be able to perform those charms himself. Dog Star's custom line actually employed only three other Charms experts aside from his Dad and Uncle Ron, and not even those three knew all of the spells used. There were several charms on the custom brooms that were only known to the two co-founders of the company, so that if another manufacturer lured any of their spell-casters away, they wouldn't be able to divulge any big secrets.

Connor watched as Harry took Ivy's broom, and clamped it into a special vice so that he could examine it. He cast a long and complicated sounding spell over it, in a voice too soft to hear. The broomstick glowed a violet colour for a moment, and then the light seemed to soak into the wood, and then Harry touched the handle with the end of his wand in several different places, causing different colours of light to appear at the point where wand met broom. He seemed deep in thought for a moment, and then declared, "There's a weak stabilizing charm on this. I can have it fixed for you by tomorrow, I think. I'm also going to look up the broom's serial number and find out who did the charm work on it, to make sure that it isn't a consistent problem. I'll make a few other modifications as well for you, just for fun."

"Thank you, Mr Potter," Ivy said with an excited smile.

"Ivy'll probably end up with a broom as good as ours once he's done," Rachel murmured to Connor. "He won't be able to resist messing about with it."

Connor nodded in agreement as he watched his dad scribbled some notes on a piece of parchment and then stuck it to Ivy's broom handle. He put it on a rack against the wall, where he normally kept works in progress.

"Now for Zack's."

Harry examined Zack's broom, which was a modified Daytripper that had been a gift to the boy from the Potters last Christmas. It was still in perfect working order, and Zack didn't have any complaints with it at all; he didn't get to ride it as often as the others did. It still didn't stop Harry from scribbling some notes on another scrap of parchment and putting Zack's broom beside Ivy's. Connor knew that his father would find something that could be done to it if he thought about it long enough.

When he got to Quentin's broom, however, Harry grinned widely and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He only chuckled at Quentin's concerned looked, and clamped it into the special vice like he had the others.

They all expected him to start performing a diagnostic charm similar to the one he had done on Ivy's, but instead he put down his wand. He scribbled some things on another, bigger sheet of parchment, and then strode to the small fireplace against the wall. He threw in a pinch of glittering power and called out, "Ron!"

A moment later, and answering voice came through. "What's up, Harry?"

"I'm giving Connor's friends brooms a look-over."

"So?" Ron's head did not appear in the fire, and his voice was somewhat muffled, as though her was eating something.

"So, Ivy Longbottom's got a faulty charm on her Elite, and I've got Quentin's Windblazer 5000 in the clamp right now," Harry answered.

"A Windblazer?" Ron's head finally made an appearance. "And he's letting you near it?"

Quentin looked as though he wanted to rescue his broom and flee, but Connor only grinned. He wasn't too worried about anything happening to his friend's broom, and if it did, he knew that his dad would replace it.

"What come over and play?" Harry asked, waggling his eyebrows at Ron.

"Give me an hour," Ron said. "Don't start without me!"

His head withdrew from the flames, and the fire died out. Harry turned back to the group looking at him with mixed expressions on their faces and smiled. "Why don't you kids go see if Ginny and Dobby need any help getting dinner on the table?" he said. "I'll have these brooms back to you in no time, better than ever."

Quentin didn't look reassured. "Mr Potter? You're not going to do anything, er, bad to my broom are you?"

"Of course not!" Harry replied, still smiling a little too blandly. "We're just going to have a look at it. See what kind of charms old Witherspoon's got on this little beauty."

Connor knew that Brian Witherspoon of Blazer Brooms was the owner of Dog Star's chief competitor, and that the two companies were constantly testing each other's newest inventions, looking for weaknesses to exploit. The Windblazer had been the one broom that had given his father and Uncle Ron the most trouble in terms of charm breaking. It was also the only one in the past three years to even come close to beating out a Dog Star broom in sales of mass produced broomsticks. It was a challenge that seemed to both infuriate and excite his Uncle Ron and his father, making them both act more like teenagers at times.

"Uncle Harry," Rachel said cautiously. "Didn't you and Dad buy five of these last year?" She gestured to the Windblazer that was awaiting inspection. "I seem to remember Mum shouting something about spending good money on competitors broom just so you could see how hard it was to strip...."

"Don't be silly," Harry interrupted his niece hastily. He hadn't missed the stricken look on Quentin's face when he heard these words. "We'll be way more careful with this one. I swear that if anything happens to this broom, I will personally replace it with the broom of his choice."

Quentin looked slightly mollified by this, but only reluctantly climbed the steps with the others. He cast a last lingering look at his broom, with Connor's father standing in front of it, before Connor shunted him out of the door.

Dinner was no more comfortable than lunch had been, with Rupert in attendance. It became obvious at once that the boy was bored, and he complained loudly about the absence of a television or video games or a computer.

"Don't you have anything around here at all to do?" he asked. Harry ignored the fact that Rupert had just shoved his plate in Ginny's direction and grunted, "More chicken."

Connor watched his parents, amazed that they were not reprimanding Rupert for his poor manners, but could see that his mother was distinctly thin-lipped. His father's jaw was working slowly, though he hadn't put a bite of food in his mouth in the past few moments, and it was becoming quickly obvious to him that his parent's patience was wearing thin. He was about to say something to Rupert himself, when Ian spoke up.

"What is your problem?" Ian demanded loudly from the opposite end of the table.

"My problem is that there's nothing around here to do," Rupert answered back, turning red in the face.

"I'm not talking about that," Ian said. "You've been sitting here in our house, at our table, acting like you own the place. You haven't said 'please' or 'thank you' to anyone, and now you're moaning because you cant find a way to entertain yourself?"

"That's enough, Ian," Ginny said quietly. She didn't need to raise her voice, as her children all recognized the tone.

"If any of us acted that way, you'd...." Ian began hotly, only to be interrupted.

"Maybe," Zack said, loudly enough for everyone to hear, but looking at Ian. "He doesn't know any better. Maybe he never learned how to behave properly."

Connor looked at his friend in admiration for the subtle put-down. He was glad that someone had finally spoken out, and decided to add his own opinion into the mix.

"Zack's right," he said to Ian, talking as though Rupert weren't sitting right across from him. "If the Dursley's never taught him any manners, or how to be a proper guest, we can't really get mad at him for being beastly. It might not be his fault."

"I'm sure that my mother has a book on etiquette that she could send over for him to read," Rachel added, with a devilish gleam in her eye. "So that he won't embarrass himself again in the future with inappropriate conduct."

Connor snuck a look at his parents, who were both looking torn between amusement and disapproval. Ginny was still holding the plate that had been shoved at her as she bit her lower lip and waited to see what would happen next. Rupert was the colour of a beet now, and his small eyes were narrowed as he looked at them all. It looked to Connor as though the boy was unsure of what he should say or do now. He was clearly outraged at what they were saying about him, but loathed to admit that his behaviour had been anything short of perfect. Finally, he chose to go on the defence.

"Why should I be embarrassed?" he asked. "I'm the guest here. They should be doing everything they can to make me feel welcome and comfortable."

"And as a guest," Quentin answered first, speaking directly to Rupert, "you should be doing everything in your power to make it pleasant for them to do so. You are not the only guest here this week, and it is each of our responsibilities to make sure that we are not an undue burden on our hosts. I don't know what kind of upbringing you've had up until this point, but you're in a whole new world now. I confess that I don't know much about Muggles, but I am fairly certain that it is still proper to show gratitude for kindness. I, for one, respect the Potters very much, and would very much appreciate it if you could practice the common courtesy that they deserve while you are here."

Everyone was silent at this extraordinary lecture. Quentin had never so much as raised his voice, and even kept his tone pleasant, as if he were doing nothing more commonplace than discussing the weather. It was obvious that Quentin's privileged upbringing had been much more cultured than Rupert's had been, and that he might have been quoting at least part of that speech from a book very like the one Rachel had just offered. Connor felt that an adult really couldn't have said it any better, and hoped that Rupert would understand what was expected of him now.

Rupert opened his mouth as if to retort, but found no words to express whatever he was feeling. His face was still flushed, and his round jaw set as he tossed his napkin onto the table and marched from the room. They could hear him pounding up the stairs and then the slam of a door, and then silence.

Everyone looked at his vacant seat for a long moment, then at each other's surprised faces. It was Adam, who finally broke the silence.

"Mum," he said sweetly. "May I please have some more potatoes?"

Ginny's lips twitched, as she set Rupert's plate aside and took Adam's plate. "Of course sweetheart," she answered.

"Thank you very much!" Adam said promptly as she set his plate down in front of him again.

"You're welcome," Ginny said with a wink.

The rest of the meal continued on as though Rupert had never been present. Ron arrived toward the end of the meal, and joined them for dessert; bringing some much needed levity to the group. He looked puzzled when everyone giggled when he said a fervent, "Thank you!" to Ginny for the large slab of cake, but didn't mention their odd behaviour.

Harry and Ron disappeared down into the basement with a look of anticipation on their faces. Ginny had gone out to the school that was situated behind the house to fetch a lesson book and to feed the class's pet plimpy. She announced that she would be going over some lesson plans in preparation of the new coming term if anyone needed anything. Connor and the others helped to clear the dishes from the table, and Dobby appeared to take over soon after, so they escaped to the living room.

"Look guys," Connor said as they all flopped down into armchairs and couches, "I'm sorry about Rupert and all. I wanted our last week of summer together to be fun."

"Don't worry," Ivy said brightly. "It will be. He's bound to be better tomorrow once he has a chance to think about it all."

"I wouldn't count on it," Rachel said darkly. "After all of the stuff we said to him at dinner, he just stormed off. He didn't even ask to be excused, two seconds after being asked to mind his manners!"

"You know," Quentin said. "I think that Zack might have been closer to the mark than we might have thought."

"What do you mean?" Ian asked. He was sitting on the floor, setting up a chessboard.

"I don't think he really knows better," Quentin said. "As strange as it seems, he really might be acting the way he always acts, and no one has ever told him it's rude. He actually seems to believe that it's a parent's job to be at his beck and call and to cater to him."

"Well he's going to have a very long week, then, " Ian answered tartly. "Even if Mum and Dad let him get away with it, the rest of us won't, will we?"

"No, we won't," Quentin agreed. "But we don't have to be mean about it, either. Maybe if we just politely remind him when he says or does rude things, he'll get the point. We can't keep riling him, or we'll all end up miserable."

Lucy appeared in the room after that, carrying a duffel bag. "Well, I'm off!"

"Got Aunt Hermione to take you in?" Connor asked, scratching at his hands again. They were still itching from the steam room this morning, even though he had scrubbed his hands with soap and water.

"Yes," Lucy said cheerfully. "With Rachel over here for the week, it's an even trade."

Everyone said good-bye to her as she vanished through the Floo, and Adam muttered, "She's so lucky," as he watched her go.

"At least I won't have to share a room," Ian said cheerfully enough. "I'll just sleep in Lucy's."

Ian finished setting up the chessboard, and Ivy settled opposite him, while Rachel sprawled on the floor beside them to watch, and offer Ivy advice. Ian was quite good at chess, and these particular chessmen were very devoted to him. Adam came over to watch as well; with a couple of custard coloured fur balls in his arms. They were all glad that Snowball was not brought out as well, since Adam seemed to be the only one who didn't find the mutant Puffskein unsettling.

Quentin, Zack and Connor sat together, idly shuffling through stacks of the ever-popular chocolate frog cards, and talking about the fact that they would be allowed to visit Hogsmeade this year on certain weekends. Occasionally there was a loud crackling sound, or excited voices heard coming from the basement, and after the third time that Connor's uncle shouted, Quentin got up and went to listen at the door of the basement.

"I'm never going to see my broom again, am I?" he asked mournfully. A sudden whoop of laughter floated up to their ears from the other side of the door, and Quentin absentmindedly began chewing on his thumbnail.

"Sure you will!" Connor said with an evil grin. "Parts of it, anyway."

When Quentin blanched, Rachel looked over and said, "Don't worry Quint. My dad and Uncle Harry are the best. If they break it, they can fix it."

"Or at least replace it," Connor said with a chuckle.

"You're not helping," Zack admonished, reaching over and shoving Connor's shoulder in admonishment.

Quentin stepped away from the door when he heard the thunder of footsteps coming up, just in time to avoid being hit as it crashed open. Ron was standing, holding Quentin's broom over his shoulder with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Say, Quentin," he said cheerfully. "Mind if I take your broom out for a bit of a test run? It's all in the name of progress."

"Oh Merlin," Quentin said sadly. "What have you done to it?"

"Oh nothing too much, yet," Ron answered breezily, as he walked toward the front door.

Harry was right behind him with another broom slung over his own shoulder, looking determined. Quentin was just about speak out against the possible mistreatment of his broom, but the door closed behind the two men before he could get any words out. The last thing he heard before they kicked off into the air, was Harry saying, "Come on, I'll prove it. I'll bet it can't reach..." His voice faded away as they disappeared into darkness outside.

"Look on the bright side," Rachel said to Quentin as he sat heavily back on his chair. "Uncle Harry did say he would get you any broom you wanted."

Quentin's moan of loss was cut short, as Rupert came into the room and asked, "Why would he buy you a broom? I was just looking at a magazine about them in Ian's room, and they're really expensive. At least I think they are; I have no idea how many pounds a galleon is worth."

"Oh, Dad probably wouldn't have to buy one for him when he could make one," Connor answered. He knew that Quentin had been right; Rupert might just need some gentle lessons in manners to become tolerable, and so determined to do his best to be civil. "Dad and Uncle Ron, er, borrowed Quentin's broom for a little research, and promised to get him a new one if anything happened to it."

"Oh. I rather thought that if he would be buying anyone a broom, it would be me, since I'm the only one here without one, and I am his blood relative, and all," Rupert said.

Connor bit back a retort, having to remind himself already that he needed to have patience. Rupert may have been terribly spoiled at home, and given expensive gifts often, for all he knew.

"You don't even know how to fly," Adam said from his spot on the floor. "You thought making brooms was stupid."

"That was before I knew what they were for," Rupert said, sitting on the couch with a grunt. "How was I to know that they were so important to magicians?"

"Er," Zack said, feeling the need to correct Rupert, without upsetting him. "We don't call ourselves magicians. We're wizards or witches; saying magicians will probably earn you some strange looks."

"He's saying that people will laugh at you," Ian put in bluntly, moving one of his pawns as he spoke.

"Well it was an honest mistake," Rupert said testily, turning a bit red in the face.

"You're right," Quentin said easily. "It was. That's why we're telling you now, so you can avoid being laughed at."

"Oh," Rupert said, deflating a bit. "Mrs Potter said that I should come and find all of you to ask what there is to do around here."

"There's loads of stuff to do," Connor said. "It's too dark for anything outside, unless you like stargazing. We've got tons of books, there's another chess set here if you'd like to play, there are board games and cards; take your pick."

"Isn't there anything like television or the wireless or computers?" Rupert asked, almost sounding desperate.

"Well there is the Wizarding Wireless. I'm not sure how it works, to be honest, but you can listen to music and news and such on it. I think there's even some shows like Muggles used to listen to before they had television," Zack said. "I don't think you'll find it very much like the Muggle version, though; it's all Wizarding bands."

"I'll play you a game of chess, if you'd like," Connor offered. Chess seemed to be a safe game to challenge him at, since most of the time was spent in silence, and concentrating on his moves would leave him little time for caustic remarks.

"I don't know how to play," Rupert sulked.

"Would you like to learn?" Quentin asked.

"No," Rupert answered with a disinterested air.

"You will get used to living without electricity and Muggle contraptions," Zack assured him. "Electricity and magic just don't mix. I don't think I'd want them to. It didn't take me long at all to learn to live without them, once I learned how magic can replace most things."

"Like what?" Rupert asked, sounding curious now.

"Like light, for one," Zack pointed out. "There's light everywhere in here, but not a single light bulb or switch. It's all magically generated lamps and candles or torches."

"What else?"

"Well how about travel? Do you have any idea how far you travelled to get here?" Zack asked.

"No," came the answer. "I don't even really know where we are."

"We're near Warwickshire," Connor supplied.

"Well, I live in Surrey," Rupert said.

"That's quite a long way," Zack said. "It would have meant at least an hour in a car or on a train, but you made the trip in less than a minute."

"I didn't like that much," Rupert said darkly.

"No, well, you had a bad experience," Quentin said in a placating tone. None of them had forgotten his ill temper upon his arrival that day. "You'll find it much easier next time, now that you know what to expect. Plus, there's apparition that you can do in a few years, and that's almost instantaneous."

"And brooms," Rachel put in, wincing as one of Ivy's chessmen was bludgeoned. "Lot's of Wizarding folk travel by broomstick."

"The point is," Zack said. "The magical world has lots of things to make up for the things it doesn't have. If I had to choose right now which world I was going to live in for the rest of my life, it would be no contest. Once you realize the magic you have inside of you, you'll never be the same again."

"Have you ever done any magic?" Connor asked curiously. "You know, accidentally?"

"I made the kitchen table disappear," Ian announced in an off-handed way.

"I made our kneazle go bald," Ivy offered. The others laughed appreciatively.

"I don't think so," Rupert said, thinking about it. "I thought my Dad was going to have a fit when an owl came to the house with a letter from a Wizarding School."

"What made you want to come so badly, if you've never even seen magic before, and your parents were so against it?" Connor asked. Now that he thought about it, Rupert hadn't seemed all that surprised at the magic he'd seen performed so far, and he wondered why.

"I wanted to be able to do something that no one else in my family could," he said immediately. "I want to learn how to make stuff disappear, and how to make my own money, and to just be... the boss for once."

"Oh dear," Ivy said, looking up from her game. She was losing miserably anyway, now that Rachel wasn't giving her advice. "You're bound to be disappointed. You won't be able to make your own money. Not the way you mean, anyway. And if you mean by being 'the boss', that you want to use magic to use people or to make them do what you want, that's pretty much illegal."

"Magic isn't a cure-all," Zack said quietly, feeling suddenly sorry for Rupert, suddenly. Magic wasn't some new wonder for Rupert that had swept him away with the amazement of it all, as it had been for Zack. "It won't give you power. Not the way you're thinking. It's a lot of hard work, and it's amazing, but it's not a guarantee of a better life. That part is up to you and what you choose to do with it." He had heard a similar speech from one of his professors in his first year, and it had stuck with him.

Rupert didn't seem too pleased with that, and sat sulking for a moment, before saying, "Then what good is it?"

"It's just what you are," Ian said, as if this explained everything.

"Why didn't anyone tell me all of this before?" Rupert demanded.

"We can't read your mind," Rachel said. "If you don't know something, you have to ask about it."

"So I won't be able to just wave a wand or my hand or something, and conjure up what I want?" Rupert asked, beginning to sound petulant again.

"Well eventually, you'll be able to conjure some things, but they don't really last. You can transfigure stuff too, that's changing one thing into something else," Ivy added, seeing the confused look on his face. "But that's not usually permanent either. It can be useful, though. Transfiguration is one of the classes you'll take at Hogwarts."

"I saw that there was book on my list like that," Rupert said. "And Charms and History of Magic, and some others."

"You see," Connor said. "There's a lot to learn, but once you do, you'll see how great it is."

"I didn't think it would be quite so much work," Rupert admitted with a furrowed brow. "My dad said that it was all just a bunch of wand waving and silly words."

"Well," Rachel pointed out, "Your father is a Muggle, isn't he? And he hates magic. He wouldn't know much about how it all works."

"Maybe my Dad was right," Rupert said. "Maybe I shouldn't have come."

"Then why did you?" Ian asked.

"My brother told me I should," Rupert mumbled.

"You have a brother?" This surprised Connor; his father had never mentioned it. But then, his father had never talked about the Dursleys much before, and never in a happy or cheerful way.

"Kyle." Rupert nodded glumly. "He's four years older than me, and my Dad's favourite. He's a boxer, and he's really strong and athletic and he's everything I'm not. He said that maybe I should think about going to Hogwarts when the letter came. Said that I should do something for a change."

Rupert saw the almost pitying looks the others were giving him, and seemed to think he'd said too much. He looked now like he regretted sharing such a private detail, and his face began to turn red. He stood up quickly and began to leave the room without another word.

"There's still time to change your mind, if you want to," Quentin said to his retreating back.

Rupert stopped for a moment and nodded without turning around.

"But I think you'd regret it," Quentin finished, and watched the boy disappear into the other room.

"What do you think he'll do?" Ivy asked once Rupert left. But no one knew the answer to that question.

"At least he was nicer this time," Connor said. "Maybe there's hope for him."

"We'll see," Ian said sceptically.

Everyone was tired by the time they all went upstairs. Quentin looked at the front door longingly, wondering what had become of his broom, but followed the others easily enough. Ian went into his room briefly to get some things, and told Rupert that he would be having his own room after all. With an armful of clothes, he retreated to Lucy's empty room for the night, shutting the door behind him. Ginny came and checked on everyone a few minutes later, and warned them not to stay up too late, or wake up too early, since tomorrow was Sunday. Ivy and Rachel were both giggling together and yawning widely by the time they closed the door to the guest room.

The boys were a little cramped in Connor's room, but none of them minded. None of them wanted to share a room with Adam, Rupert or Ian, for fear of missing out on something one of the others said. When they settled into their beds, they had thought they would end up talking late into the night, but the flying must have taken it's toll, because before long, Zack and Quentin were fast asleep.

Connor found that he couldn't fall asleep, even after practicing his Occlumency. His hands were itching again, and so he crept quietly out of the room and down the stairs thinking of asking his Mum for some salve. Maybe Dobby had left some of his iced oatmeal biscuits in the larder as well, and he could have a snack before trying to go back to sleep. His mother's door was open, and she was sitting up in bed, reading. She spotted him outside the door, and had a look at his hands when he told her about the itching and the magical steam. Though she couldn't see any rash or other sign of irritation, she rummaged in a drawer and came up with a small pot of cream that smelled faintly of cedar and chamomile. It was strangely soothing as he rubbed it in.

He thanked her, and snuck down the staircase instead of heading up while she had her back turned to put the cream away. He stopped when he heard voices coming from the kitchen, and recognized them as his father and Uncle Ron. Connor reckoned they must have finished with Quentin's broom for the evening, and he wondered if it had survived. He was about to go all the way down and ask about it, when he heard his father talking about Rupert. He inched forward, and could see that both of them had their feet propped up on the table, and each had a bottle of ale in front of them, along with a big plate of the biscuits that Connor had originally come down to pilfer. He eased back and sat on a step to listen, wondering what his father really thought of his cousin's son.

"I don't know what I was thinking, Ron, I really don't," his Dad said tiredly. "I got that letter, and all I could think of was Dudley beating up on some poor scrawny kid, and locking him in the cupboard under the stairs, the way Uncle Vernon did to me."

"You thought you would rescue him the way Hagrid did for you," Uncle Ron's deep voice rumbled. "You thought he needed saving."

"Merlin, was I wrong!" came the reply. "He's like a duplicate version of Dudley at that age, but a lot smarter than Dudders was. I got there, and Dudley actually acted like he was happy to see me. It was bizarre. Then I met the older son, Kyle, and he's nothing like Dudley was at all. He was tall and wiry and physically fit, and when I met his mother I could see why. I don't know how Dudley managed it, but his wife is a nice looking, trim woman. She didn't really talk much while I was there, though I got the impression from talking to my cousin that he married the first woman that came along, during the height of his boxing days."

"What happened to your aunt and uncle?" Ron asked. "I thought that if Rupert got a letter from Hogwarts, they'd have had a fit and rushed over to put a stop to it."

"They probably would have," Harry said, "But they were on holiday at their summer place in Majorca. They gave the house on Privet Drive to Dudley as a wedding gift, and moved into a flat in London. I think that Dudley was hoping that I could 'fix' his son before they returned."

"So what happened when you talked to Dudley?" Ron prompted.

"Basically it was like watching twins have a temper tantrum together," Harry said. "Far from being scrawny and abused, Rupert is just as fat and spoiled as his father was, and he was screaming at the top of his lungs that he was going to go to 'magician school' whether his father liked it or not, and that no one was going to stop him. Dudley was shouting loud enough that I thought the neighbours would call the police. He was saying that no boy of his was going to go to some freak school in the middle of God-knows-where and learn magic tricks. Then they rounded on me."

"Oh boy," Ron chuckled. There were sounds as though both men were pausing to take drinks from their bottles.

"Dudley started shouting about how I must have done something to his son, and that I'd better just take whatever curse I'd put on him off. I asked him if Rupert had done anything unusual, but they said he hadn't, so I don't think they had any inkling that he would be getting a letter. I explained about bloodlines and such, but as usual, Dudley wouldn't listen to anything I had to say. In the end, his wife, Pearl, just stood up and said, 'Dudley, be quiet,' and he just shut up. It was amazing. Then she asked Rupert if he really wanted to go, even against their wishes, and the kid said yes. He said that he was tired of always being second to Kyle, and that he wanted to be someplace where no one knew he had a brother who was better than him."

"Ouch," Ron said with a sympathetic tone in his voice.

"Yeah," Harry said. "That was what got me, I think. I told them that there was no 'cure' for magic, and that they either accepted it, or they didn't. I told them that McGonagall had asked me to act as their Muggle Liaison, and to tell them anything they needed to know. I gave them the books and pamphlets, too, and told them to read up on it. I said I could come back the next day, and maybe take them to Diagon Alley to get his school things so that they could see for themselves, or I could come get Rupert and take him with me and they could trust me to see to getting what he needs. Then I offered to answer any questions."

"What did they say to that?"

"Rupert's mum just said, 'You come back tomorrow and pick Rupert up. He'll be packed and ready to go.' Not exactly what I meant."

"No, really?" was Ron's sarcastic reply.

"I tried to tell them that I had only meant I would take him shopping, but they just rolled right over me. Dudley said that I had to take Rupert until September first. He said that once Rupert saw what kind of freaks we actually were, he'd stop this nonsense and beg to come home; then they'd take him to Smeltings like they had planned."

"I can't believe you agreed to that," Ron said with a laugh. "Well, actually, I can, Mr Hero, but you got played like a violin."

"Tell me about it," Harry said. "I went and got the boy this morning, and he must have had every single thing he'd ever owned packed up. I had to explain to him that he couldn't bring his television or cell phone or computer, and that he'd really only need some nice warm clothes and basic toiletries. He still ended up with a huge trunk, stuffed full! He's either going to have to thin it out, or we're going to have to put some serious charms on that trunk."

"So what has he thought of everything so far?" Ron asked, sounding as though his mouth was stuffed with a biscuit.

"He's been a little berk since he arrived," Harry said bluntly. On the stairs, Connor grinned widely. "I made Dudley drive us into London, and took Rupert to the Leaky Cauldron so we could Floo here. I explained how the Floo worked, and how to stand and what to say, and told him that I'd be there at the other end to catch him when he came out."

"Let me guess," Ron said. "It didn't go so well?"

"Got it in one," Harry said. "You remember how big Dudley was before he started boxing, don't you? Well let's just say that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. When I made sure he got the Floo address right, I apparated straight into the living room, and he came out looking like he'd been painted black and dragged through a hedge backward."

Ron laughed loudly at this, and Harry joined in briefly, remembering the image. "I'll bet he wasn't happy about that!" Ron said.

"That would be an understatement. From that point on, things went downhill," Harry said ruefully. "He's been as unpleasant as he possibly can, his vocabulary doesn't seem to include the words 'please' or 'thank you' at all, and he treats everyone like his personal servant. He was rude to Ginny tonight at dinner, and I was about to lose it, but the kids took care of it. Ian exploded, and the all of the other kids put in their opinion. He stormed out the room, and when Ginny went to talk to him, he was ordering Dobby around, making him unpack and iron his clothes! That boy needs to be taught a lesson, and I'm going to be the one to give it to him if he doesn't start to show some respect. We'll see how things go tomorrow, and when we go to Diagon Alley on Monday."

"Well I'll wish you good luck on that one, I have a feeling you're going to need it," Ron said.

There was sound as though they had tapped their bottles together in a toast, and Connor stood up and was about to retreat, when his Uncle Ron spotted movement on the stairs and called to him.

"Hey Con," his Dad said, when he came into the room. "What are you doing up?"

"Hoping for some oatmeal biscuits," he answered easily, snagging one off of the plate. "I couldn't get to sleep."

"Pull up a chair," Uncle Ron invited. "Want a Butterbeer?"

"No thanks, I'll just get some milk." Connor poured himself a glass, and joined them at the table.

"Your occlumency exercises didn't help?" his dad asked with concern.

"Nah," Connor said. "I think I'm just too wound up from having my friends here and stuff. How did Quentin's broom do?"

"I'm a genius," Ron announced proudly, thumping his chest.

Both Connor and Harry rolled their eyes and chuckled.

"I thought Quentin was going to cry when you took off on it," Connor said with a grin.

"No worries," Harry said, picking up a biscuit and dunking it in Connor's milk. "We won't let him go back to school without a broom."

"Without a broom, or without his broom?" Connor asked shrewdly.

"A fine distinction," Ron agreed.

"The Wizengamot's still out on that one," Harry smiled. "We did get Ivy's broom fixed, and made some adjustments to Zack's. If your Aunt Hermione will let Ron come over again tomorrow, we'll do a bit more tinkering."

"Speaking of which," Ron said, dropping his feet to the floor and standing. "I'm already in the doghouse for being out so late, and now I'm coming home with ale on my breath. I'd better go make nice."

They both said good night, and watched as Ron disappeared with a loud pop.

"So do you think you could get to sleep now?" Harry asked as Connor yawned and nodded. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Harry slung an affectionate arm around his son, and they climbed the stairs together.