Realizations

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Chapter 14 - Ms. Wright

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Saturday, July 15, 1995

Harry glanced around in confusion, as he tried to pinpoint the source of the crying. If anything, he was used to having to look up slightly when he greeted customers. It took a few seconds for him to realize where the sound was coming from and shift his line of vision down.

There, just inside the door was a girl of about nine or so, with straight, light brown hair and glasses. Beside her was another girl who looked to be no more than two or three. Her hair was shorter and darker than the other girl's, and hung in wispy baby-curls.

At the moment, the older girl was looking bewildered and annoyed at the same time, as she fruitlessly worked the door latch with one hand, and fought to hold onto the baby with the other. The toddler was obviously unimpressed with her current circumstances, and was letting the world know of her displeasure. Wailing half in fear, half in indignation, she called for her mother again, and tried to yank her arm out of the other girl's grip.

Since Harry hadn't dealt with someone that young since he was that young himself, he found himself somewhat at a loss--wanting to give comfort, but not quite sure how. He glanced at Tom for guidance, but the other wizard was already moving toward the pair.

Careful to keep his pace non-threatening, Tom plucked a couple of napkins off a table as he passed by and knelt in front of the girls. Calmly, he offered one of the napkins to the older one who, Harry noticed for the first time, was crying as well. She just wasn't going at it as wholeheartedly as the little one was. Harry shook his head in wonder as he watched the scene in front of him, his respect for the old innkeeper going up another notch.

"There now, what's all this noise? It can't be as bad as all that, now can it?" Tom was saying, talking to the girls in a soothing, reassuring way. The baby calmed somewhat--stopped screaming at least--when the older girl relaxed enough to loosen the death grip she had on her arm. "Now then," Tom said, as the girls wiped their tears away, and their sobs gradually tapered off to hitches and sniffles, "My name is Tom." Motioning for Harry to approach, he included him in the introduction, "and this is Sparky."

"Hi," Harry said, with a smile, as two pairs of watery eyes, one brown, and one gray-blue, turned to him. "So, what are your names?" he asked after a second, following Tom's lead, and keeping his voice gentle and friendly.

"I'm Kitty, and this is my sister, Becky," the older one supplied, studying the two wizards cautiously.

"I'm very pleased to meet you," Harry said, keeping his smile firmly in place but thinking furiously behind it. He didn't have a perfect ear for accents, but he'd almost be willing to bet that Kitty and Becky hailed from somewhere in the United States. Were they on holiday then? Sightseeing on Charing Cross Road perhaps?

Kitty hesitantly returned his smile, then tensed up again, and yanked at the door with renewed vigor. "Nice to meet you too...but we really need to get out and find Mom!"

"What happened, Kitty? When was the last time you saw your mother?" Tom asked, skillfully drawing her attention back to him.

"She left!" the little girl blurted, shaking her head in dismay and starting to tear up again. "She was right behind us! We were looking for a place to have dinner. I thought your place looked nice, and the door was open, so we came in." She pointed toward the window. "But Mom didn't stop--she kept walking! I shut the door and couldn't open it again...and...and... Mom's gonna be so mad!" she wailed.

"Shush, love," Tom said, with a rueful glance at the offending portal. The door that opened into muggle London stuck sometimes. It had been acting up today so he'd left it ajar earlier. He'd been meaning to have a look at it, or have Harry look at it, but they hadn't gotten around to it.

The door was charmed to close itself once it was set in motion. Regulars at the Leaky Cauldron were aware of the door's idiosyncrasies, and usually left it open if they found it so. If Kitty tried to close it, though, the charm kicked in and it wedged itself shut. Tom sighed softly and patted Kitty on the back. "It will be all right, you'll see. Stop crying now, you're scaring your sister," he chided gently, noticing the toddler's trembling lip and tear-bright eyes. Looking up at Harry over the girls' heads, he mouthed, "Muggleborn."

Harry's eyes widened. Oh. OH! Of course the mother would pass innocently by! The Leaky Cauldron seemed invisible to most muggles. Even magical folk almost had to know where the Leaky Cauldron was to spot it. Harry had nearly overlooked it himself the first time Hagrid had brought him here, and had long suspected the place was charmed to partially hide itself.

"It will be safer if you stay here, and let us bring your mother to you," Tom said practically. "Now then, what does your Mum look like? Don't fret, she can't have gone too far away," he added when Kitty got a pained look on her face and involuntarily glanced out the window. "I expect she's noticed you're not with her by now."

"Well, she has brown eyes like me," Kitty began, but was interrupted by her sister.

"Mama gots back haiw wike Becky," she said, tugging at her own dark curls, then she pointed to her sister. "Daddy gots bown haiw wike Kitty."

Harry paused a moment, working through what she said. Oh, right. Mama has black hair like Becky, Daddy has brown hair like Kitty. Gotcha. "So is your father out there as well?" he asked.

"No," Kitty said, pouting a little. "He'll be here in a few days."

"All right then," Tom said briskly. He glanced down at the sisters, who had both unconsciously moved closer to him, then up at Harry. "Would you go, Sparky? She should be easy enough to spot. Hurry now, the poor dear's probably frantic with worry."

Harry privately wondered how on earth Tom expected him to find a muggle woman he'd never laid eyes on before with only the vague description of "black hair and brown eyes" to go by, but he nodded gamely, and shouldered the door open.

---

The light of late afternoon was casting long shadows, as Harry stepped onto the street. It would be dusk soon. Muggle shopkeepers were turning on their lighted storefronts, or else getting ready to close for the evening.

All in all there wasn't a lot of foot traffic, Harry noted with relief. Maybe he'd be able to spot "Mum" at that. Taking off in the direction Kitty had indicated, Harry walked down the street, pausing to look in shop windows, and examine faces as he went.

He really was quite surprised at the girls for wandering away from their mother. Aunt Petunia hadn't taken him on outings often, but when she had he'd always received a stern warning to stay close. Fearful that he might be left behind if he got separated from her side, Harry had always done just that.

One of his earliest complete memories was a trip to the supermarket. He and Dudley had been four, perhaps five at most. Petunia never seemed to want to hold his hand, or touch him in any way, but she didn't object to him holding on to the side of the shopping cart. Harry rather liked this, since it made his aunt easier to keep track of.

On that particular trip, he'd been with Aunt Petunia, clinging tightly to the side of the cart, while Dudley ran riot a few feet in front of them. His cousin had kicked and screamed to be let out until Petunia, never able to refuse Dudley anything, gave in and removed him from the cart's child seat. Harry remembered waiting hopefully, wondering if his aunt was going to offer him a chance to ride, but of course she didn't. The seat must remain available in case Duddykins got tired and wanted to reclaim it.

It had been about then that a stranger addressed them. Aunt Petunia had been inspecting the display of tinned vegetables, trying to decide if there was anything Dudley would eat, when another shopper stopped her own cart and reached for some corn. Glancing down the aisle at Dudley, she had tutted disapprovingly. "It's disgraceful the way some people can't control their children," she had said, then beamed down at Harry. "I think that one could take some lessons from this little angel," she cooed, gently cupping his chin and tipping his head up slightly. "You're doing a wonderful job with him, dear. He's absolutely perfect--quiet, well mannered, and such beautiful green eyes."

Warmed by the unexpected praise, Harry had smiled shyly at the other woman. When she'd made her selection and went on her way, he'd looked up at his aunt, and been surprised at what he saw. Petunia's face was pale and pinched, her mouth flattened into a thin line, and she had angry spots of color in her cheeks that always meant trouble.

Harry hadn't understood. The lady had been nice. Why was she so upset? He'd been even more bewildered when they'd returned home. His aunt had rounded on him in a fury, and slapped him just as hard as she could. He'd been knocked him off his feet by the force of her blow, and sat down with a thud on the kitchen floor.

"How dare you! How dare you! " Petunia had raged, as Harry looked up at her, tears of fright and pain filling his eyes.

"But I didn't do anything!" Harry had protested, stunned, confused, and a little angry. "That's not fair! I was being good. The lady said so. Dudley is the one who was bad! You should hit him, or yell at him or lock him in the cupboard!"

Petunia had paled, then flushed, then paled again. Harry looked at her fearfully, aware without really knowing how that he'd crossed a line. When she finally spoke, her face was drawn up in ugly sneer, and her words were cold and deliberate...

"You ungrateful, vicious little wretch! You want fair? Well I don't think that it's fair that you were dropped in my lap without so much as a by-your-leave when your fool parents got themselves killed. That "lady" is a nosey old parker who doesn't know what she's talking about. She doesn't know you like I do--doesn't have to live with your freakish abnormality every day. Beautiful green eyes indeed! And that scruffy hair! You look like a common alley cat, and are about as well mannered as one, too! It disgusts me that you, who are absolutely dependent on my charity for your very survival, have the gall to insult my own son to my face!"

Harry shook his head slightly, and sighed as he continued up the street. That had been perhaps the first time he'd understood that something wasn't quite right--the first time he'd fully grasped that gaining acceptance would be difficult if not impossible in the Dursley household. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always doted on their only child, and one of the unspoken rules of the house was "what Dudley wants, Dudley gets," but this--even in Harry's young mind--seemed far more serious than simple favoritism.

Harry had spent most of his subsequent time in the cupboard mulling over the event, and trying to make sense out of what had just happened. Then, as now he came up empty. Petunia's behavior was just plain weird.

Still, he didn't regret the incident. He was actually rather grateful to the stranger for her kind words, even if he had gotten in trouble. Chance encounters like the one in the tinned vegetables aisle, people like Mrs. Figg, and some of his more compassionate muggle teachers had given him something to hang on to. A second opinion of sorts. Any act of kindness or acceptance, no matter how small gave him hope that things could be better.

Through his strange awareness, Harry sensed early on that Vernon and Petunia resented his presence, but as a young boy, he had dared to hope that he could win his relatives' love if he just tried hard enough. Unfortunately, nothing he did seemed to please them. Oddly, his accomplishments seemed to annoy his aunt and uncle to no end, and heaven forbid if he excelled at something! When he held back a bit, it was better. The tension eased, and Petunia could happily heap loads of praise on Dudley. Finally, after years of striving toward an impossible goal, Harry had regretfully admitted defeat. He abandoned his dream of being accepted by the Dursleys, and began to simply stay out of their way.

Okay, that's enough. You're supposed to be looking for Kitty and Becky's mum, not feeling sorry for yourself! Pulling himself forcibly back to the present, Harry realized he'd reached the corner and stopped. He was just debating on which way to go, when the sounds of running footsteps and a woman's voice made him look up. This looks promising, Harry thought, observing a rather laden-down woman as she tore frantically up the side street to his right. He couldn't see her eyes or make out what she was saying at this distance, but her hair was dark. She was also pushing an umbrella stroller which had several shopping bags in the seat, and carried a diaper bag on one shoulder.

"Oh! Hello, excuse me," she called, spotting Harry, and running up to him. "Please! Have you seen two little girls?" She had a frantic, Oh-My-God-this-can't-be-happening air about her that Harry instantly sympathized with. He reckoned he had probably looked remarkably similar when he found 4 Privet Drive empty.

"Are you Kitty and Becky's mum?" Harry asked. He suspected that she was, judging by her possessions, and speech patterns, but had to make sure. Naming the girls would save time.

"Yes." The woman closed her eyes for a second in obvious relief, then opened them and peered anxiously at Harry. "Do you have them? Are they all right? Where are they?" she asked rapidly.

"They're just up the street," Harry said, pointing over his shoulder. "They wandered into the little pub and inn where I work--a place called the Leaky Cauldron," he elaborated, suddenly glad he hadn't bothered to remove his apron. "Mum" was eyeing him cautiously now, and the garment clearly stated he'd been working somewhere. After a few seconds she seemed to relax a bit, and allowed him to lead her back the way he'd come.

"I don't remember a place called The Leaky Cauldron." the woman finally ventured with a thoughtful frown after they'd walked a short distance in silence. "You'd think a name like that would stick with me."

"It's a small place--easy to miss," Harry shrugged, thinking furiously. How was he supposed to get "Mum" here, into the Leaky Cauldron if she couldn't see it? No, really ma'am, it's there. It's just invisible to non-magical folk like yourself. Yeah, right, Potter. Somehow I don't think she'd buy that. He wondered if he could just ask her to wait outside while he ran in and fetched the girls. Or maybe Tom would see them through the window, and let the kids out.

"Book store, book store, music store, theater, restaurant," his companion was muttering, obviously ticking off landmarks she remembered as they hurried up the street. Harry held his breath as they neared the pub. "Big book store, record shop--wait!" "Mum" stopped with an arrested expression on her face. " There it is! Cripes, I must have walked past it three times! Maybe I was looking at the map or something," she speculated, glancing at the hastily folded London street map that was untidily stuffed into one of the diaper bag's outer pockets.

"That must be it," Harry agreed trying not to sound too relieved. "Shall we?" he asked, opening the door, and gesturing for her to precede him.

The brunette nodded, and thanked him sincerely, before entering the pub and becoming the absolute center of attention.

---

Kitty and Becky brightened and shrieked "Mama!" when the jangling bells on the door caught their attention. Tom had settled them at a table with small glasses of pumpkin juice. Harry smiled as he watched the girls' mother hurry over and scoop them both up in her arms. When she had assured herself that her children were indeed fine, the dark haired woman shifted abruptly into "mommy mode." After settling the girls back in their seats, she stood with her arms akimbo and gave them a withering glare. "Katrina Nicole and Rebecca Marie Wright! What have I told you about staying close and not wandering off?" she demanded furiously.

Harry and Tom exchanged an amused look as Kitty and Becky shrank miserably in their seats. The whole scenario was eerily reminiscent of the time Fred, George, and Ron had fetched Harry from Privet Drive summer before second year. The Weasley brothers had worn similar looks when their mother, Molly Weasley, came stalking across the yard to meet them once they'd arrived at the Burrow. Harry had been a little unnerved, and had not known what to make of Mrs. Weasley. In his experience, angry, raised voices were never a good sign.

After staying at the Burrow for a few days, Harry began to realize that the Weasley's handled crime and punishment differently than the Dursleys did. Harry had observed other families of course, but since he didn't have any muggle friends to speak of, this was the first time he'd ever seen this kind of parent-child interaction over a long period of time. He'd found it much more to his liking, but since he had very little to compare it to, he had reckoned it was unique to the Weasley household. A Molly thing.

Now, however, he was beginning to wonder if it was actually a Mummy thing instead. Unbidden, an image of Lily Potter filled his head. It wasn't the gentle, loving, parent he'd always envisioned, but the very picture of maternal ire--face flushed and green eyes snapping angrily. Harry shuddered slightly, and wondered how many times he would have faced his mother's wrath...or would James have been the primary disciplinarian...or would they have worked as a team?

A small sound drew his attention back the girls' table. Becky and Kitty were looking anxiously at their mother, who now had her head in her hands. She had evidently spent her anger, and now appeared to be on the verge of tears. She was trying very hard to keep herself together, but her success in the endeavor was far from assured. Again, because of his own experience a few days ago, Harry had an idea of what was happening. Now that the crisis was over, and the need to stay calm and act was gone, reaction was setting in. Hmm. Perhaps "Mum" needed a few minutes to herself...

Quietly, he walked to the table, and stood between Kitty and Becky's chairs, while Tom spoke quietly to "Mum" and guided her into a third chair. "I think your mum could do with a spot of tea," he suggested casually. "Perhaps a few biscuits. Why don't you come with me, so you can tell me what she likes."

He wasn't really sure if they'd consent to come with him, but Kitty and Becky had evidently deemed him trustworthy. They nodded solemnly, and stood, surprising Harry when they both reached up and grasped one of his hands like this was the most natural thing in the world to do. Well, okay, Katrina held his right hand, and Rebecca had his left index finger, and maybe it wasn't so surprising given the lecture they'd just received, but still! It was a completely foreign sensation, but not an unpleasant one, Harry mused, smiling down at their expectant faces. "Right, then," he said, unnecessarily, turning toward the kitchen.

---

"I don't like it," Sirius Black declared suddenly, scowling mistrustfully at the plan of operations for the attack on Privet Drive.

Remus looked up from helping Severus Snape draft interrogation questions for Peter Pettigrew. "What don't you like, Padfoot?"

"The plan is quite sound, Sirius," Dumbledore added. He, Arabella, and Arthur Weasley had been discussing the ramifications of Malfoy's report to Voldemort, and how to best protect the Burrow and the home of Amos Diggory.

"Well, yes, except for one complication," Sirius agreed, poking the parchment with his finger. "We've covered every last detail except how we're supposed to know when to act. Unless Voldemort is good enough to keep us up-to-date, all this is useless! We can't very well camp in the backyard until the bad guys show up, now can we?"

"Mmm," Snape said, frowning thoughtfully. "As much as it pains me to admit it, Black may have a point. The Dark Lord has been very secretive about his plans. Even the Death Eaters in his inner circle haven't been told when the attack will be." He shrugged, then continued. "There's every possibility that we won't be told. He could summon us, and dispatch us to Potter's home with no advance warning. If that happens I don't know if I would be able to spread the word."

"I am hopeful that Mr. Potter or yourself will be able to intercept the precise date beforehand," Albus responded, "but if you do not, the wards surrounding the property at 4 Privet Drive have not been dismantled. Arabella will know immediately if an unauthorized witch or wizard is in the neighborhood, and can sound the alarm with Flitwick's charmed parchment.

"You'd be essentially trapping Arabella in her house, Albus," Arthur pointed out. "Besides, she has to sleep sometime. If we aren't notified instantly, the Death Eaters could figure out that the house is unoccupied, and Disapparate."

"There are anti-Apparation wards that extend 50 meters from the house itself, but you have a valid point," the headmaster muttered. He frowned thoughtfully, stroking his long beard, then addressed the room at large. "Comments? Suggestions?"

Remus shrugged. "Post a guard. Have a rotating shift. That's essentially what Sirius and I have been doing since the last Order meeting. In fact, unless you have something else in mind for us, we could help out with this."

" The mirror in my lounge is charmed to show the exterior of the Dursley--uh, of 4 Privet Drive when requested. We could use that to keep an eye on the place. I justified it to the ministry because Harry spent a lot of time in the yard," she added, responding to the unspoken question from her companions, "I wanted to charm it to show me the interior from time to time, but I couldn't get permission. Unnecessary invasion of privacy."

"That shouldn't matter," Snape said dismissively. "According to Potter, the structure is vacant."

"Actually," Dumbledore said, peering through his half-moon glasses at Harry's letter, "Harry said 'my aunt and uncle have sold their property on Privet Drive. The house is currently vacant.'" He turned to Mrs. Figg. "You said you met an estate agent there today, is the house for sale, or sold?"

"The property was just for sale when I stopped by this afternoon," Arabella responded firmly. "The agent was in the middle of showing it when I arrived."

"Good," said Albus, looking grimly pleased. "A new family in that house would be an unqualified disaster. Arabella, when you return to Surrey, verify that the house has not yet sold. If it has not, cast a few aversion spells and muggle repelling charms. We need to make sure that house doesn't sell before Voldemort's minions show up. Once the attack is over, we will need to remove the charms and dismantle the wards in Surrey."

"And if it has sold?" Arabella pressed.

"Then we will allow the media to know that Harry's guardians have relocated."

"Is that wise, Albus? The Prophet has already started printing little digs about Harry and yourself."

"Let's hope it does not become necessary," Dumbledore said calmly.

Snape stood abruptly. "If we are finished here, Headmaster, I should be going. He will know if I kept him waiting without good cause, and I have finished the questions for Pettigrew."

"Very well, Severus. Good luck," Albus said, watching as the potions master stepped into the fireplace and was whisked back to his lab. "Perhaps we should adjourn for the evening and rest while we can," he suggested, turning back to the others. "We have reached a point where there is nothing to do but wait."

Arthur Weasley nodded tiredly. "All right, Albus, but please, make the call to Australia as soon as possible."

"I shall make the call in approximately four hours," the old wizard promised. Reassured, Arthur threw floo powder in the fireplace, and called for home.

"We'll need to pick up something to eat on the way," Arabella told Remus and Sirius, as they too prepared to leave. "I didn't visit the supermarket before I came here, and there isn't a speck of food in the house."

"You may stop by the kitchens if you wish," Albus offered helpfully, an amused twinkle in his bright blue eyes. "I believe Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin know the way. If that is not to your liking, there's always the Three Broomsticks, the Lion's Head, or the Leaky Cauldron."

Arabella's eyes lit up. "The Leaky Cauldron! Oh, I haven't seen Tom in ages!"

"Right then," Remus grinned. "Paddy, why don't you go back to the Dog Pound and get some clothes and things for us. Belle and I will get some take away at the Leaky Cauldron, and we'll meet back at her place."

Sirius didn't look altogether happy, but he nodded and moved to the fireplace. "Sounds like a plan."

---

"Wow," Kitty commented as they entered the kitchen. Harry grimaced a little, wondering if this had been such a great idea. Too late, as he was leading the girls across the dining room, he remembered that Tom's kitchen wasn't exactly normal by muggle standards. Oh, well. At least the dish brush isn't going.

Casting around for a distraction, he settled the girls at one of the worktables, and set to work. Well, that's one thing British wizards and muggles have in common, he reflected absently, thinking of Aunt Petunia on Dudley's eleventh birthday, Hagrid when Buckbeak had been condemned by the ministry, and the first Quidditch game he'd ever played for Gryffindor. When someone's upset, make strong, sweet tea.

The girls seemed more at ease now, and chatted happily with him until the subject of biscuits came up. When Harry had listed the choices currently available, the sisters had looked at each other, then back at him. "Um, Sparky," Kitty said uncertainly. "Those are cookies. "

Harry had barely been able to bite back his laughter. She was obviously confused, and just as obviously afraid she was going to hurt his feelings or insult him. "Cookies are more commonly known as biscuits here," he explained patiently, still smiling broadly. "I believe American biscuits are more like what we call scones here in England."

"How did you know we're from America? Are you magic?"

Harry nearly dropped the cannister of ginger snaps he was holding, then gave himself a mental slap. She didn't mean it that way, idiot, he scolded himself. Recovering, he replied, "Nothing special, I can tell by the way you talk." While the girl digested this, he set the tea and biscuits on the tray, and added a small flagon of pumpkin juice for Kitty and Becky. "Well I think that should do it. Shall we?"

---

As they re-entered the dining area, and approached the table where Kitty and Becky's mum was, Harry was gratified to see that the she had rallied admirably while they'd been in the kitchen. "Better now?" he asked, setting the tea and cookies on the table, and refilling the girls' juice glasses.

"Yes, thank you," "Mum" said, looking a little embarrassed. Recovering, she held out her hand and smiled. "I don't believe I introduced myself to you earlier. I'm Janet Wright."

"Jim Patterson," Harry replied, taking the offered hand and giving it a firm shake, "but everyone calls me Sparky."

There weren't very many diners at the Cauldron just yet, so in between waiting on the other customers, Harry and Tom chatted with the Wrights. The family was indeed American, and had only just arrived in the U. K. Janet had accepted an overseas assignment with her company, and was due to start work in August. Her husband, Steve had been delayed, and would be joining them in a few days. She and the girls had decided to have an outing to escape the mess their new house was currently in. "We're hip-deep in boxes," Janet said with a sigh, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "One of the many joys of moving."

"Have you moved around a lot then?" Harry asked. He found he rather liked Janet. She was open and friendly, and surprisingly easy to talk to.

"Yes, actually. My husband was in the military until just recently." Janet smiled at her daughters. "Kitty and Becky were born in two different states, but this is our first time overseas. I have to admit, I was thinking I'd made the worst mistake of my life earlier," she admitted. "You don't know what real fear is until you think your children may be missing. Thank you both so much for all your help."

"Think nothing of it, dear. We were happy to be of service," Tom said warmly. "This wasn't the first time a child has wandered in, and it certainly won't be the last. Now then," he said, standing and placing a companionable hand on Kitty's shoulder. "This fine young lady mentioned dinner. Can I interest you in something?"

"Mmm. Yes. I suppose I should act like a responsible parent and feed my children real food before letting them have cookies," Janet said, taking a sip from her mug. "What's available this evening?"

---

By the time Harry returned with the Wrights' order, the Leaky Cauldron's dinner and pub patrons began to trickle in. Harry had been a little concerned--afraid that the Wrights might be startled by the Cauldron's normal clientele--but Janet had seemed more amused than anything.

"Big city living," she had commented, shaking her head with a smile, when Harry brought out three plates of Tom's savory Shepherd's Pie. "You must get all kinds here."

"You have no idea," Harry had replied, smirking slightly. Actually, the Wrights had picked a good time to stumble onto the Leaky Cauldron. This evening's customers were more-or-less human in appearance, there hadn't been any floo arrivals, and comparatively speaking, it was a fairly slow night.

Regardless Harry found himself on edge. Tom surely knew what he doing, but Harry still wondered what the other wizard was playing at. This had to be some violation of at least one wizarding bylaw. Then again, the Leaky Cauldron was a doorway of sorts between the muggle and magical worlds. Maybe Tom had muggle customers, or perhaps it was all right for the Wrights to stay because one or both of the girls showed signs of being magical. Or maybe Tom simply thought it better to serve them like any other customer because treating them otherwise would raise their suspicions.

Gah! Too many questions!

Harry decided he'd ask Tom if about it later. In the meantime the boy decided to keep an eye on the fireplaces, and the door that opened into Diagon Alley. A floo arrival, for example, would probably defy explanation. Hoping to be able to distract them if the need arose, Harry tried to busy himself as much as possible with chores near the Wrights' table. They had only just met, but he rather liked the family, and had no desire to see them Obliviated.

What Harry hadn't counted on was people from the Alley noticing his deferential attitude, and drawing entirely the wrong conclusion from it. Erin, the blonde clerk from Flourish & Blotts had been the first to comment. He'd just finished taking her and her friends' order and was walking away when she called after him, "It's nice that your family came to see you tonight, Sparky!"

Shocked witless, Harry had chosen to simply keep walking, pretending he hadn't heard. Erin's assumption wasn't unreasonable, he supposed. His dark hair and eyes gave him at least a superficial resemblance to Janet and her girls, but he hadn't expected this! It soon became obvious that he'd made a tactical error by not acknowledging Erin's comment, and correcting her straightaway. As he continued his circuit of the dining room, several witches and wizards who had overheard, smiled brightly at him.

"Lovely family, Sparky..."

"The little ones are just adorable..."

"Dad tied up tonight, Jim? That's a shame..."

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry finished checking his tables, and gratefully escaped into the kitchen.

This was a fine mess. A really fine mess. Any second now someone would probably want an introduction. Irritably, he slapped down the paper he had written Erin's table's order on, and stalked around the kitchen gathering items to fill it.

"Alright, Harry?" Tom asked, studying him curiously. "You look a little stressed."

Flustered, Harry put an order of Shepard's Pie on a serving tray, and flapped a hand in the direction of the dining room. "They think they're my family!" he finally blurted, with a pained look on his face.

"Sorry?" Tom said, confused.

"Some of the customers in the dining room think the Wrights are my family," Harry elaborated, fetching some chilled mugs and bottles of butterbeer. When the other wizard failed to look properly scandalized, he prompted, "Tom, this is bad!"

"Harry, it's a simple misunderstanding. I don't think Janet would hold it against you. I certainly didn't when she asked me if we were related."

"She asked...?" Harry swallowed and tried again. "You didn't mind?"

"Why would I mind? She and I talked a bit when you took the girls to the kitchen. She thought it was unusually perceptive of you to notice she needed a chance to collect herself, and I must agree. Why I would think anyone would be proud to claim you."

The boy shrugged noncommentally, recalling the Dursleys and how they reacted when asked if he, Harry was their son. He stood there, sad-eyed and thoughtful for just a second, but Tom caught it. "Harry..."

"I should take this out," the Gryffindor said softly but firmly, cutting off Tom's comment. One side of his mouth quirked up, as he began to regain his normal good humor. "Erin will think I got lost," he quipped, turning and leaving the frustrated innkeeper in his wake.

---

After delivering the order, Harry noticed Janet trying to get his attention, and hurried over to her. "Ready to go are you?" he grinned. Kitty had scooted her chair over beside her mother, and was leaning heavily into her side, Becky had clambered onto Janet's lap, and was already sleeping deeply.

Janet nodded tiredly. "Yes. I need to get these two into bed, and I'm not far behind them." She glanced up at Harry and gave him a small smile. "I was going to unpack a little more, but I expended entirely too much energy being upset."

Harry nodded his understanding. "I'll just go get your tally, then," he said, wondering belatedly how, or even if muggle transactions were handled. Spotting Tom servicing another table, Harry went over to him.

"I keep it as simple as possible," Tom explained quietly, when Harry requested instructions. "Add up her order, round off to the nearest Galleon, and multiply by five. There's a bit of muggle money in the red box behind the bar if she needs change." Harry nodded and busied himself with re-writing the Wrights' order, and converting the wizard totals into pounds.

"Thanks, Spark, you're a prince," Janet said gratefully when Harry returned. "And even, too! How lucky is that!" she mused, digging through the diaper bag for her wallet, and counting out the required number of pounds.

Harry accepted the bills, then stood in front of the table, watching uncertainly as Janet tried to juggle bags, stroller and children without waking them. It was painfully obvious that she had more than she could comfortably handle since Kitty was asleep. "Erm, Janet, not to be pushy or anything, but could you use a hand?"

Janet glanced at the mostly asleep child to her right, and the unconscious toddler in her lap, then looked up at the anxious teenager in front of her. Grinning wryly up at him she said, "Actually, that would be wonderful, Sparky. If you don't mind that is."

"No trouble," Harry shrugged, with a tentative smile.

"Okay, first let's get Becky settled..."

Under Janet's direction, Harry laid her payment on the table, then removed the shopping bags from the umbrella stroller, lifted Rebecca, and strapped her into the conveyance.

"Poor things. Completely done in, aren't they?"

Janet looked up at Tom, and smiled ruefully. She had been trying without success to rouse her older daughter. "Wiped out," she agreed, before turning her attention back to Kitty. "Come on sweetie," she coaxed, trying to pull the sleepy child to her feet. "We have to go home now."

"Here, Janet, don't wake her," Tom said. "Sparky or I will be glad to help you get her out to your car."

"Thanks, but we're on foot," Janet said with a grimace, glancing at the dark street beyond the Leaky Cauldron's front window. "I didn't plan to stay this long, but I've just been enjoying being out. We don't live that far away, but I don't think I can carry the bags, and Katrina, and push Rebecca's stroller."

"We could phone for a cab, you know, or I could help you if you'd like," Harry offered quietly. Aware of Janet and Tom's amused looks he flushed slightly and mumbled, "Sorry, my aunt is always very fussy about propriety and manners. I meant no offense."

"None taken," Mrs. Wright was quick to assure. "I just find it amazing that you're so willing to help someone you don't even know."

Harry just shrugged again, looking rather abashed. How could he explain it? He did always seem to go rushing to the defense of others, but it was mostly because he knew how it felt to be bullied, trapped, and overwhelmed. He'd reacted without hesitation, almost without conscious thought when Draco Malfoy tried to take Neville Longbottom's Rememberall during their first flying lesson. Second year, he'd gone charging into the Chamber of Secrets when Ron's sister Ginny was in danger. Third year he'd run after Ron when Sirius (in his Animagus form) had dragged him into the passageway beneath the Whomping Willow. And with Janet...well Harry knew what it felt like to have more than a body could easily manage as well.

Tom pretended to appraise the dining room, then broke the awkward silence. "All right, I think I can spare you long enough to escort the ladies home...if that's agreeable with you of course?" he said addressing Janet. Harry squirmed under another one of her appraising stares, then she smiled, and nodded her consent. "Excellent! Come back to the kitchen for one quick minute Sparky," Tom said, walking in that direction and motioning for Harry to follow.

"Be right back," Harry told Janet, scooping up her payment, and trotting after Tom.

"Come here, lad," Tom said kindly, when Harry hesitantly entered behind him. "I just want to put a small tracking charm on you before you leave."

Harry paused in the act of removing his apron. "Tracking charm?"

"I don't expect you'll have any trouble, but if you do I'll be able to find you much more quickly. I'll just use a simple one that reports your location and status."

"Oh. Okay," Harry said uncertainly, as Tom took out his wand and tapped him on the head with it, then pointed the wand at the wall. Harry watched wonderingly as writing appeared:

Sparky:

Location: Leaky Cauldron (kitchen)

Status: Normal

"Alright?" Tom asked. "Nothing too personal, you see. Status will be 'Normal' unless you're in some sort of trouble."

Harry considered this a minute, then nodded. "Thanks, Tom. Oh, here," he said handing over Janet's money.

Tom accepted the bills then frowned at the boy. "Make sure you take care, Harry," he warned. "I'm not keen on you walking back by yourself after dark."

---

Janet had pulled Kitty into her lap, and was absently stroking her hair when Tom and Harry returned. She grinned sheepishly at the two wizards' amusement, and indicated her sleeping daughter. "Have to enjoy her while she still fits. Pretty soon she'll be Sparky's size, and much too cool for laps and cuddling."

After a little discussion about the best way to proceed, Tom lifted Kitty onto Harry's back, piggyback style, while Janet threaded the shopping bags onto the stroller's handles. Kitty protested a little at the shift, but was soon snoozing contentedly again on Harry's shoulder.

"Ready?" Harry asked. Janet nodded and started pushing the stroller towards the door. "Thanks again Tom," she threw over her shoulder. "You're a real lifesaver."

"Any time, dearie. Come again soon."

As Harry followed her, he heard the telltale popping that heralded a floo arrival. Close one! I couldn't have timed this better if I tried, he thought ironically, not knowing that Arabella Figg and Remus Lupin had just arrived.

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