Questions and Answers

little_bird

Story Summary:
What happens when the past collides with the present and threatens to cast the Potters' and Weasleys' lives into disarray...

Chapter 55 - Expectations

Posted:
02/16/2011
Hits:
1,305


22 December 2019

Dear Maya,

My mum and dad say I can take you to a film next week, but we have to go with Teddy. Mum and Dad seem to think we need a chaperone, although why, I'm not sure. But that's the only way we're going to be able to go out. And you'd better hope that Teddy's available, because otherwise, we're going to end up double-dating with my parents. Please don't hold it against me...

Also, Mum and Dad want to meet your parents Friday. Try not to hold that against me, either... The excuse for being in Falmouth Friday is ostensibly because we're going to the Falmouth-Appleby game. We are going, really. And Mum says if it's okay with your mum and dad, you can come with us. We're going to sit in the press box. So we'll be well supervised...

Owl me back and let me know if all that's all right.

James

xxxxxx

Harry shuffled into the kitchen, massaging his stiff left shoulder. It didn't bother him most of the time, but it had gotten much colder overnight and he'd discovered cold and damp weather made the healed injury ache. He stopped short at the sight of James sitting at the table, his flannel-clad knees drawn up into his chest. Harry continued into the kitchen, commenting, 'You're up early. Usually we have to pry you out of bed for breakfast.'

'Couldn't sleep,' James mumbled, his hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate. He ran his hands through his messy hair several times. 'Dad, can I ask you something?'

Harry began to rummage through cupboards preparatory to making breakfast. 'Sure.'

James picked up a banana from the bowl in the center of the table and peeled it slowly, unaware of the irony of choosing that particular piece of fruit. 'Why did you tell me all that stuff last night?'

Harry measured milk and oats into a pan for porridge and sighed. 'I told you. Your mum and I don't want to be grandparents any time soon.'

'Yeah, but if nothing works all the time, why go through all that?'

Harry stilled and James thought he heard one of his father's more pungent curses. Harry opened a drawer and patted blindly for a moment. He dropped a Sickle into a nearly-full jar, and turned around, leaning against the counter. 'Because it's better than using nothing,' he told James.

'How do you know?' James muttered, taking a bite of his banana.

'Because that's how you got here,' Harry snorted. James' mouth fell open, revealing half-chewed banana. 'Close your mouth, son,' Harry chuckled. Embarrassed, James' mouth snapped shut. 'And I know that condoms don't always work because that's how Al and Lily got here...' He turned back to the stove, flicking his wand at a spoon, sending it to stir the porridge.

'I think I'm going to be sick...' James murmured.

Harry dropped into the chair next to James'. 'If you think this is bad, you should have heard the talk your granddad gave to your uncle Ron and me.' James' mouth crimped and he paled slightly. 'After he told us about the contraceptive charm, he said something along the lines of, "Think with your heads, boys, not your willies." We managed to wait until he'd left before we started gagging.'

'I think I might prefer that,' James grumbled darkly.

'Well, all right, then,' Harry said cheerfully. 'Think with your head, son, and not your willie.'

'Thanks, Dad.'

Harry patted James on the back. 'Any time.'

xxxxxx

At lunch, James sat between Fred and Jacob, his dark head bookended by their bright red ones. 'You don't look so good,' Fred observed.

Jacob peered at James. 'Look like you're going to be sick,' he added. 'Are you sick?' he asked worriedly. 'Because if you are, I don't want to catch it. No offense, mate.'

James shook his head. 'No. I'm all right. It's just that the only way Maya and I will get to go out is if we double up with Teddy or Mum and Dad.'

'Merlin, I hope Teddy's not working the evening or overnight shift next week, mate,' Jacob commiserated.

'Too right,' Fred added. 'But James, that doesn't quite explain why you haven't looked at either Aunt Ginny or Uncle Harry since you got here.' He stabbed at a parsnip and gestured down the long table. 'Aunt Ginny was talking to you and you couldn't even look at her in the face.'

'Oh, so go join the Aurors already will you?' James grumbled. 'Bloody...' He ladled gravy over his potatoes and pork chops. 'Dad had the "talk" with me last night...'

'Ugh!' Fred and Jacob gagged in unison.

'Sorry there, mate,' Jacob murmured, as if James were ill and instead of the warm, bustling kitchen of the Burrow, they were in a hushed hospital room at St. Mungo's, patting him sympathetically on the back.

'Mum did that with us right before school started,' Fred mused. He shuddered visibly. 'Put me off thinking about doing anything with Ellie Richmond.'

'Isn't Ellie in Hufflepuff?' Jacob asked over James' head.

'Yeah.'

'Hmmmm.' Jacob examined his twin appraisingly.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Fred huffed.

Jacob shrugged. 'Just never pegged you for the safe type. Thought you'd go the dangerous route, like our good cousin here, and go for a girl in Slytherin or maybe Ravenclaw.'

James' head snapped up. 'Maya's not dangerous,' he growled.

'She is in Slytherin,' Fred pointed out. 'That means she's got a dark and twisty side.'

'So how detailed did Uncle Harry get with you last night?' Jacob persisted.

'Detailed enough,' James hissed, face flaming.

Jacob and Fred exchanged identical grins behind James. 'Yep,' Jacob pronounced. 'It was for your own good, then. Everyone knows girls from Slytherin...'

'Everyone knows what?' James snapped, his voice low and dangerous. The conversation at the children's end of the table died off.

Jacob shifted uncomfortably. 'It's just that girls from Slytherin don't have the best reputation...' James glared at Jacob for several tense moments before he shoved away from the table so violently, even the adults noticed. James darted from the kitchen and ran up the stairs. Harry started to rise from his chair, but Ginny laid a hand on his arm.

'I'll go...' Ginny climbed the stairs, all the way up to the attic. It had been James' refuge when Harry was injured last summer. Her instincts proved to be right, when she found James huddled on Ron's old bed. 'Want to tell me what that was about?'

'Not really.' James tried to burrow into the wall.

'All right.' Ginny sat on the bed next to James and gazed out the small window. 'I always thought Ron was the luckiest sod in the family having this room,' she said. 'My room... Every one had to pass by it to get downstairs or get upstairs.' A faint clanging sound drifted from the space above. 'Well, the ghoul isn't much of a selling point, but the privacy Ron had most of the time was quite nice.'

'D'you have a point, Mum?'

'It gets really crowded in this family sometimes,' Ginny told him. 'Everyone's got an opinion about what you do or say. And they say it. Whether you want to hear it or not.'

'Tell me something I don't know,' James spat.

'Sometimes you need to hear the opinions. If nothing else, than to tell you what you're going to face from people who don't know you as well.'

James' hands clenched into fists. 'They said... that Maya...'

'Jemmy, you can't control who you fall in love with. And I trust your judgment.'

'You do?' James blurted, surprised.

'Well, as far as Maya's concerned. Your dad and I have met her...' Ginny brushed James' hair out of his eyes. 'Girls from Slytherin have always had somewhat dodgy reputations. Well, at least when I was there. Mostly because of one person in particular. She was quite...'

'Randy?' James supplied.

'You could say that,' Ginny sighed. 'And I don't even want to know where you picked up that particular word.' She pulled James into a sideways hug, mindful he was feeling prickly about being hugged by either her or Harry these days. 'And I'll have a word with Fred and Jacob about spreading rumors.'

'Don't,' James begged. 'I don't want anyone to say anything about it...'

Ginny bit her lip, but nodded. 'I can't promise that your aunt Katie or uncle George won't talk to the twins, though.' She slid off the bed and looked down at James. 'Want the rest of your lunch?' James shook his head. 'I'll just leave a plate for you in the kitchen, then, if you want it later.' Ginny started to leave the attic, but paused with her hand on the doorknob. 'Oh, I understand you and Maya put on quite the display in Hogsmeade.'

James' eyes grew round. 'How did you know about that...?'

Ginny laughed and patted her son's cheek. 'The Harpies were having their Christmas party at the Three Broomsticks in one of the upstairs rooms. They saw you through the window. Gwenog came by the Prophet office a few days later, and wanted to know if I knew what my oldest sprog was up to.'

'I'm never going to be able to kiss a girl ever again...'

'Well, not in public, anyway.' Ginny grinned at James, then left the room.

James flopped back against the mattress, flinging an arm over his eyes. He drifted off, his sleep filled with half-formed dreams and images he couldn't remember later, even if he'd wanted to. Hunger pangs prodded him awake after a few hours, and James emerged from the attic, cross and groggy. He slipped into the empty kitchen, in search of the plate Ginny had promised him and was greeted by an odd, muffled silence. He saw movement from the corner of his eye, and through a small window set in the scullery door, glimpsed George standing in front of Fred and Jacob, gesticulating wildly. The Silencing charm his uncle had undoubtedly cast on the scullery wasn't able to withstand the verbal onslaught George poured forth on his sons.

George was livid. As soon as Ginny returned and whisked James' untouched plate from the table, covering it with a clean serviette, he glared at Fred and Jacob, making them both wilt a little. They both managed to avoid him, by darting into the back garden for a boisterous snowball fight, sledding, a game of Quidditch, until at last they could no longer evade George's simmering wrath. 'He's supposed to be able to count on you!' George yelled, face going redder and redder. 'Haven't either of you two idiots ever met the girl you're so busy disparaging at the table?' He was met by a wall of silence. 'Well? Haven't you?'

'Yeah...' Jacob admitted grudgingly.

'And has she ever given either of you - or anyone in the family for that matter - the impression she's no better than some... some... randy tart?'

'No...' Fred whispered, his chin nearly against his chest, his head hung so low.

'Look at me when I'm speaking to you!' George demanded, making Fred's head jerk upright.

'Slytherins aren't nearly as nasty as they were when I was your age,' George huffed, feeling the blood pound inside his ears, even his mangled one. 'Taking the mickey out of James for dating a girl - fine! Taking the mickey out of him for what House she's in is unacceptable.'

'But, Dad,' Jacob began hesitantly, 'you always tell Uncle Percy he ought to have been Sorted into Slytherin... And you've been taking the mickey out of him for Parker being Sorted into Hufflepuff for ages...' he finished sullenly.

'But I'm also not spreading vicious gossip about Percy or Parker. You just hit James below the belt, and if he doesn't want to talk to you after the two of you apologize, then you'll just have to live with it, won't you?' The twins nodded, their faces shuttered in matching expressionless masks. 'I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that.'

'Yes, sir,' Fred and Jacob chimed darkly.

xxxxxx

'Don't you think we've gone a bit overboard?' Neville asked Hannah.

Hannah fashioned a bow from the ribbon she had wrapped around a brightly-wrapped package. She looked at the pile of gifts under their tree and the gaily decorated sitting room. 'Oh, no more than everyone else did when their babies had their first Christmas.'

Neville bounced Eric lightly on his knee, making the boy giggle gleefully. 'Erm, Hannah, I hate to break it to you, but this isn't Eric's first Christmas...'

Hannah shrugged. 'I know, but it's his first Christmas with us. And his first birthday with us will be next winter...'

Eric grunted, wriggling from Neville's grip. He slid down Neville's shins until he was balanced on the floor. Eric toddled toward Hannah, his eyes fixed on the tree, one hand outstretched toward the sparkling decorations and fairy lights. 'No, Eric...' Hannah slid an arm around Eric's waist, anchoring him to the spot. She grabbed her wand and flicked it at the tree, sending the more delicate items to the branches out of Eric's reach. She flinched at the sound of an imperious knock she had come to dread. Hannah's lips clamped shut, suppressing the curse that rose to them. It would be her luck that Eric would merrily repeat anything she said when the Ministry witch was there.

Neville repressed a sigh and opened the door. 'Miss Rodding,' he murmured.

'Hello!' Cary trilled. She strode into the flat, followed by a green-robed Healer, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall on their heels. 'I've brought Healer Patterson to give Eric a complete medical evaluation.'

'And then I shall do my own examination!' Madam Pomfrey said indignantly. 'I've been submitting weekly reports to your office ever since Eric arrived here, and suddenly they're not good enough!'

'Now, then Poppy,' McGonagall began, 'let's let this... witch... do her job, and we'll do ours.'

The Healer gave Neville and Hannah an embarrassed shrug and held out her arms for Eric. Hannah reluctantly handed him to her, and Healer Patterson began to croon softly, while she waved her wand over the boy's head. Too many symbols and words floated over Eric's head, glowing with soft green light, before the witch flicked her wand at them, and they flew to a file Cary held. 'He seems to be in excellent health, Mrs. Longbottom,' she told Hannah quietly. Eric babbled and patted Patterson's face with both hands. 'And happy as well.' She made as if to hand Eric over to Madam Pomfrey. 'If it's quite all right with you?' she asked Hannah. Hannah nodded and Madam Pomfrey repeated the process, then set Eric on the ground so he could make his unsteady way to Neville, who squatted on the ground, with his arms held out.

Cary pursed her lips and took in the sitting room. She made an indeterminate noise and jotted a few notes on her clipboard. 'You will ensure that the smaller items are moved out of Eric's reach?'

McGonagall snorted. 'Unless the boy grows two feet overnight, Miss Rodding, I don't think he's going to reach anything.' She jabbed her wand at the door and it swung open. 'After you,' she said to Cary, whose brows knit briefly, but she swept from the room.

Healer Patterson waited until Cary's footsteps faded. 'It wasn't my idea to come here. I keep telling her that the spells Madam Pomfrey uses cannot produce fabricated results, but I believe she's going to bring me with her every so often, just as a second opinion.'

Hannah began to laugh. 'Fine! Bloody fine! We haven't anything to hide. Let her throw whatever she can at us. I'm not letting her ruin my holiday with Eric.'

'That's the spirit,' McGonagall murmured. 'We'll see you at lunch on Wednesday in the Great Hall?' She tickled Eric under his chin, her face split into a wide grin unaware of the looks of shocked disbelief Neville and Hannah sent her. 'There ought to be enough students staying on this year who will be more than willing to let the two of you eat a meal in peace, while they dote on young Mr. Zhao.'

'Thank you, Prof--er, Minerva...' Neville said softly.

'It's lovely to have a baby around,' Madam Pomfrey said. 'Especially during the holidays.'

Loud throat-clearing from the end of corridor made Healer Patterson, Madam Pomfrey, and McGonagall's shoulders hitch toward their ears irritably. They sailed down the corridor, clucking amongst themselves in a manner that reminded Neville of the chickens that Molly Weasley kept at the Burrow. He shook his head and closed the door to his quarters. 'On the first day of Christmas...' he sang to himself.

xxxxxx

The holidays turned the pub into a madhouse and as a result Francesca Hytner was in somewhat of a tizzy. So when an unfamiliar screech owl fluttered into the pub with a letter addressed to Maya, she barely noticed. Until she took the letter from the owl, with a distracted murmur of thanks. As she offered the owl water, Francesca glanced absently at the sender's name and her eyes widened. 'Maya!' she shouted. 'You've got a letter!'

Maya pattered down the stairs, shifting an armload of towels to one side. She picked up the letter from the counter and smiled.

Francesca stood in the middle of the kitchen, directing various pots and pans in a complex dance of cookery, while managing to send stacks of plates and bundles of cutlery around the kitchen with the deft touch of an orchestra conductor. 'Is that really from the Potter boy?' she asked wearily.

Maya nodded. 'Yeah.'

Francesca blinked once. 'Harry Potter's eldest boy...?'

'Yeah. So?' Maya ran her thumb under the seal and pulled out the single sheet of parchment. She scanned it quickly, her straight brows arching in surprise. 'Oh, bloody hell,' she sighed. 'His mum and dad want to come meet you. And Dad.'

Francesca paused in the middle of the steamy, hot kitchen, pushing her hair from her face. 'Whatever for?'

Maya shoved the parchment back into the envelope and tucked it into her pocket. 'He wants to take me to see a film... I think that's what it's called... And his parents want you meet you before.' She scooped up the pile of towels and headed back up the stairs. 'And we won't be alone, either,' she added.

'Did he tell you when they were coming?'

'Friday.'

'But that's the Appleby game!' Francesca gasped. 'It's going to be insane!' She turned back to the dinner on the stove muttering grumpily, 'Must be nice for some people... Haven't any consideration for anyone else.'

Maya angrily tossed the towels to the floor. 'They're not like that!' she protested. 'They've never asked anyone to treat them any differently than other people.'

'According to them,' Francesca sniffed.

'Would you expect them to sit up all night in a chair next to their kid's bed, like everyone else?' Maya snorted. 'I've seen that myself. They're normal!'

'Pick the towels up,' Francesca sighed.

Maya stood on the step, glaring at her mother, then turned around and stalked up the stairs, without saying a word.

'Maya! Come back and pick up those towels!'

Maya's only reply was to slam the door to their small living quarters.

Francesca bent to pick up the pile of towels, her jaw clenched. She strode to the scullery and threw them onto the pile already there. More work. It never stopped. And now she was going to have to play the gracious hostess to Harry Potter and his privileged family. It made her head hurt. She'd been amused initially, when Maya talked about her budding friendship with a Chaser from an opposing House's team, but when word reached her that Maya was often in the company of Harry Potter's son, she became worried. How would their blunt, decidedly unfrilly Maya fit into the pampered life of the child of celebrities? She was bound to be hurt in the process. And furthermore, Maya had been Sorted into Slytherin, while the Potters were Gryffindors through and through. Francesca was more than aware of what people said about women who had been in Slytherin, and unfortunately for all of them, the example Pansy Parkinson displayed on the society pages of the Daily Prophet put all of them in a bad light. Francesca didn't see any of it ending well for Maya.

xxxxxx

Al arranged the pillows behind his head and propped himself up against them. 'How was it at home?'

Scorpius leaned against the wall, hugging his pillow to his chest. 'Just like always,' he told Al. 'Mother was great and Grandmother sent tickets for a Montrose game for next summer. She preferred to stay in Nice this year. Didn't want to fuss with Portkeys to just stay here for a few days. Mother promised me we'd go there when school's done or Grandmother will come here.'

'And your father...?'

Scorpius shrugged. 'Just like always. Locked away in his study for hours at a time. Doesn't talk to me. You know. The usual.'

'Barrel of monkeys, then.'

'Yeah.'

Al smoothed the bedding over his bent knees. 'Listen, mate, I told my mum and dad about you needing somewhere to stay...'

Scorpius' face showed shock for several moments, then he managed to stammer, 'I'm not planning on doing a bunk next July.'

'I know, but whenever you need it - if you need it - you can stay here, no questions.' Al rolled the edge of his sheet between his fingers. 'So what's going on with Lily?'

'What makes you think I know?'

'Because she talks to you, and she won't talk to James or me. She's gone all weird and secretive. Learning how to pick locks the Muggle way...'

'I don't know,' Scorpius admitted. 'Well, I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete. It's not dangerous. I think. I don't think it's just a phase, either...' He took a deep breath, unsure of whether or not to reveal his theory to Al. It felt as if he was betraying Lily. But he didn't want Al to worry needlessly. 'She's just trying a few things out. So she can decide what she wants to study,' he said finally.

'But why would she need to know how to pick a lock?' Al asked, perplexed.

Scorpius rubbed his forehead. 'Right... I don't want to say,' he said reluctantly. 'Because you and James might try to talk her out of it, even though I'm pretty sure Lily doesn't pay a whit of attention to a word you say.' He fiddled with the toe of his sock, picking at the beginnings of a hole. 'Just think... What could Lily possibly want to do where she might need to learn how to get out of sticky situations where magic might not be a good idea?'

Al's brows knit together and as realization dawned, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open. 'Mum and Dad will go spare!'

Scorpius nodded. 'And that's why you need to keep it quiet.' He threw the pillow to the head of the camp bed and flopped down. 'I hate keeping all these secrets... That's why my family's gone barmy.'

Al sat with his arms wrapped around his knees. 'I don't know,' he said doubtfully. 'Your family was barmy way before that.' He was rewarded with a ghost of a smile from his friend. 'But as far as Lily goes... Better to ask forgiveness than permission, eh?'

'Something like that.' Scorpius slid down in the bed, pulling the bedding over his shoulders. 'So why are we going to Falmouth, exactly?'

Al began to snicker. 'The cover story is that we're going to see the game. But really, we're going just to meet Maya's parents.'

'The parental seal of approval, hmmm?'

Al snorted. 'Not really. As long as you've been coming here, you still think my parents would judge anyone by who the rest of their family is?'

Scorpius rolled to his side to face Al on the other side of the room. 'No, I don't suppose they do... It just seems like such an odd charade for them to go through.'

Al shrugged with one shoulder. 'I think it's more so Maya's parents can meet Mum and Dad to be honest. Just to reassure them that Mum and Dad are completely normal...'

'Could you define, "normal", Mr. Potter?' Scorpius retorted in an excellent imitation of Professor Trentham.

Al's eyes closed as he considered Scorpius' question. They popped open, wide green pools in the dim light of the lamp next to his bed. 'When you're just as mad as everyone else.'

xxxxxx

Maya wrung her hands nervously, pacing. The pub had emptied of most of its customers several minutes ago, and she was waiting for James and the rest of his family to arrive. Her mother leaned against the long bar that ran down one side of the room, warily watching the door. Maya flipped her hair over her shoulder and resumed her anxious vigil near the door. She had heard her parents the past few nights in whispered discussions, but had angrily dismissed them, figuring they were merely trying to figure out how to avoid allowing her to go to the game with James and his family or out with him next week.

The door opened, bringing in a swirl of cold wind and snow. She could hear Al making soft catcalls behind James, earning a firm smack on the back of the head from Harry. 'Sorry,' Harry said apologetically to Francesca, then turning to Al and eyeing him beadily. 'Normally he behaves as if he's been in public before.'

Francesca twisted a towel in her hands. 'We were expecting you earlier,' she began uncertainly.

Ginny stepped forward, extending a hand to Francesca. 'Hello. I'm Ginny, James' mother. And I thought you had owled Maya to tell her what time we were coming...' she added, giving James a look similar to the one Harry had just given Al.

'I... erm... I did...'

'Did you tell her we'd be here at six-forty-five or did you say we'd be here before the game started?' Harry sighed.

'Erm...' James' cheeks, already pink from the cold wind outside, reddened even more in embarrassment. 'Before the game,' he mumbled.

'It helps if you give people details, Jemmy,' Ginny told him. 'I figured this would be a good time to stop by,' Ginny said to Francesca. 'I remember when I lived at the pub in Holyhead, most of the patrons there for the game cleared out around a half-hour before the first whistle.'

Francesca grasped Ginny's hand in hers, surprised at the calluses on Ginny's fingers. 'It's nice to meet you,' she stammered. 'Maya speaks very highly of you.'

'Maya's a lovely girl,' Ginny said.

Hugh, Maya's father, limped into the front room from a private parlor, where he'd been clearing the remains of Bernard Calhoun's dinner party that he routinely held before a Falmouth home game. 'Oh, hello.'

'Dad, this is James Potter, and his parents, Harry and Ginny Potter,' Maya said in an undertone.

'Ah, well then.' Hugh held out a hand to Harry unthinkingly. Harry appeared startled momentarily, but took the older man's hand in his, giving it a firm shake.

'Pleasure to meet you,' Harry murmured.

'We'd love to take Maya to the Falmouth game with us, if it's all right with you.' Ginny was saying to Francesca.

'If it's not a bother,' Francesca said reluctantly.

'No bother at all,' Ginny said blithely. 'If the game's running long, and you want her home by a certain time, one of us can bring her back, too.'

'Eleven is fine,' Hugh said to Ginny. 'Go get your things, Maya,' Hugh said. Maya didn't need further prompting. She dashed up to their quarters and tumbled down the stairs, pulling her coat over her arms.

'I'm ready,' she panted.

Hugh hooked his wasted left hand through Maya's elbow. 'Now then, I want you to be on your best behavior, mind. You're a guest,' he said into her ear.

Maya began to roll her eyes, but a warning nudge from Hugh stopped her. 'Yes, sir,' she mumbled. 'Bye, Dad. Mum.' It was with relief that Maya followed the Potter family out of the pub.

James eyed her for a moment, as they trudged to the Falcons' stadium. 'So what happened to your dad's hand...?'

'Last wizarding war,' Maya supplied. 'He was caught helping smuggle Muggle-borns out of the country by a Death Eater. He wasn't sure what the spell was they used, but there wasn't anything the Healers could do after. He couldn't go to St. Mungo's until it was all over and by then it was too late, anyway.'

James felt his stomach lurch, as memories of what his own father faced during the last war raced through his brain. 'I'm sorry,' he said sincerely.

Maya shrugged. 'He's learned to handle things quite well. He doesn't feel sorry for himself. Or at least not anymore.' She grinned slyly. 'So... -Jemmy...'

James blushed. 'It's what my mum and dad used to call me when I was small. They don't do it very often,' he coughed.

'It's cute. I think I might start calling you that.' Maya laughed when James pulled a face. 'So, do my parents pass muster?'

James reached for Maya's hand. 'I could ask you the same question. Your mum seemed positively... Uncomfortable.'

'She wasn't too chuffed about your lot coming here,' admitted Maya. 'She... Well it doesn't matter what she said.'

'Let me guess,' James began. 'She thought there would be a great deal of fanfare and Mum and Dad would make lots of unreasonable demands, as befitting the Auror Head and the Quidditch editor of the Prophet.' Maya nodded, unwilling to look James in the face, and tried to pull her hand out of his. James tightened his fingers around hers, refusing to let go. 'Loads of people who don't know Mum or Dad very well tend to think that at first. Makes Dad crazy. He wants people to think he's just like everyone else. And he is,' James added quickly. 'Just with a slightly interesting history.'

'That's one way to put it,' Maya said wryly. 'Your whole family has a slightly interesting history.'

James shrugged. 'Would it help if I told you the summer after my second year, Dad made Al and me clean out our tool shed and paint the broom shed, just because I had to tease Lily? Or that the summer before Al's first year, we drew on Dad's face while he was asleep on the sofa with markers? He went to work with a butterfly on his forehead for three days. Mum reads these Muggle novels that are so ridiculous she hides them behind the towels in the cupboard in the bathroom. Every year for Christmas, she knits us a matching hat, scarf, and set of mittens.' He pointed to the boy walking between Al and Lily. 'Scorpius, too. Has for the last three years.'

'My mum doesn't mean anything by it,' Maya said, a little defensively. 'It's just that you're...' She hesitated, frowning. 'You're the son of the man who saved the wizarding world, the youngest Auror ever, and arguably one of the best Chasers to play the game, if she hadn't quit at her peak, and I'm the daughter of two people who keep a pub...'

James began to laugh. 'I'm sorry,' he gasped. 'It's not funny, but really... Both my parents grew up with nothing. None of it matters. I really like you, Maya. And my mum seems to like you.'

'Oi!' Al called from a side door of the Falcons' stadium. Ginny talked easily with the wizard at the press entrance, stuffing her credentials back into her bag. 'Come on! The game's about to start!'

'And then there are some whose world revolves around Quidditch,' James muttered.

'Does Al know girls exist? Or does he fly the other way, do you think?' Maya murmured.

James gazed at the back of his brother's head. 'I don't think so... About flying the other way... And I'm not sure he knows girls exist yet.'

'And I'd like to keep it that way for a while,' Ginny commented from behind them. She reached up and patted James' cheek. 'You're growing up so quickly...'