Chapter 38- Converging lines ( part 2).

Of course the learning was a two way street. Just recently, they'd been trying to arrange a visit, and had been having difficulty determining what time she would come by to collect him. Janet had laughed until tears ran down her cheeks, when Harry had finally shrugged and told her to just "knock him up" whenever it was convenient.

When he finished measuring out the juice, Tom snapped the lid back on the pitcher, and wandered back to the bar. "Thanks, Tom," Mrs. Wright said, handing him a few pounds. "It's nice of you to cater to us like this."

"My pleasure," the innkeeper replied, pocketing the muggle bills, and smiling at them. He was just about to ask if he could get them anything else, when Kitty smiled and waved, and Becky clapped and giggled. "'Parky! 'Parky!" she crowed, holding her arms up in an irresistible demand for attention.

Tom turned, and saw Harry standing in the kitchen doorway, a look of pleased surprise on his face. "Just in time, Mr. Patterson," he said with a flourish. "These lovely young ladies have been waiting to have a word with you."

When he finished measuring out the juice, Tom snapped the lid back on the pitcher, and wandered back to the bar. "Thanks, Tom," Mrs. Wright said, handing him a few pounds. "It's nice of you to cater to us like this."

"My pleasure," the innkeeper replied, pocketing the muggle bills, and smiling at them. He was just about to ask if he could get them anything else, when Kitty smiled and waved, and Becky clapped and giggled. "'Parky! 'Parky!" she crowed, holding her arms up in an irresistible demand for attention.

Tom turned, and saw Harry standing in the kitchen doorway, a look of pleased surprise on his face. "Just in time, Mr. Patterson," he said with a flourish. "These lovely young ladies have been waiting to have a word with you."

Harry smiled at what was fast becoming one of his favorite muggle families (along with the Grangers.) He grinned at Janet, then scooped Becky up, and tugged playfully on one of Kitty's pigtails. "Hey, Kit," he said to the brown-haired girl. "Hi Snidget," he greeted the blue-eyed toddler.

Janet watched the way he interacted with her children, and smiled fondly. Kitty, bless her, was not an unattractive child, but all too often she was overlooked because of her sister. One of the things she liked most about Jim, and Tom too, was the way they could divide their attention between the girls, so no one felt left out.

"So is there anything I can do for you, or is this a social call?" Harry asked, wincing as Becky grabbed a lock of his hair, and extracted vengeance for her sister. "Ouch! Not so hard, Becky," he admonished lightly.

Janet shook her head and rolled her eyes at the effect his gentle rebuff had on her daughter. She was instantly contrite in a way she never was with mere parental scolding.

"I wanted to know if you would be available to babysit for me on Saturday evening," she informed the boy, watching, amused, as Becky kissed her fingertips then pressed them against Harry's head to 'make it all better.' "I apologize for the short notice, but it just dawned on me that I had someone I could ask to watch them. Steve's flight gets in a little late in the evening, and it's going to take a while to get to and from the airport. It's going to be a long trip, and the kids will be tired and crabby. I'd rather not drag them out if I don't have to."

"Well, I'd like to help, but I've never done that before," Harry said uncertainly, setting Becky back down next to her mother. "What would I be expected to do?"

Janet shrugged. "Same thing you did the other night when you distracted the kids so I could unpack in peace." She started ticking off choices on her fingers. "Read, color, play games, watch videos... I'll make sure they've had their dinners and baths before I leave. You make sure the house doesn't fall down, entertain them for a little while, then put them to bed."

Harry shrugged. He could do that. "Okay," he agreed, while the girls voiced their approval.

When they quieted down, Janet became all business. "Great. How much do you charge?"

"Charge?"

"Yeah. What's the going rate here in London?" When Harry continued to stare at her blankly she prompted, "People usually get compensated for their time when they look after other people's children."

"Uhhhh..." Harry was lost. She wanted to pay him for playing with her kids and watching movies?

"Well, you can ask all your girlfriends what they charge. Just go easy on me, okay? I just moved and I haven't started my new job yet," Janet said, eyes twinkling with amusement. "As a matter of fact," she went on a second later, "I imagine we'll be getting back fairly late. If you want to, you could just bring a change of clothes and crash on the couch. I know Tom has you up with the chickens getting everything ready for breakfast."

Harry wasn't sure about that. What would happen if he had another nightmare? "Let me get back to you on that," he hedged. "I need to see what my schedule is."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Spark. I appreciate it."

"Anytime."

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Petunia Dursley sniffed discontentedly at the state of her living room, and doggedly reached for another box. The last six weeks or so had been the most frightening, turbulent, and topsy-turvy days she had ever experienced.

It had all started back at the beginning of June. Vernon had come home with the news that Grunnings was expanding, and he had been offered the chance oversee one of the new sites. At the time it had seemed terribly exciting. It was a wonderful opportunity for Vernon, after all. There were several sites available in Britain, so they would not disrupt Dudley's schooling, Vernon would receive a promotion, and Grunnings would pay all their moving and travel expenses.

Although staying in England was an option, they had toyed with the idea of living abroad as well. If they didn't go too far away, Dudley could come stay with them for his Christmas and summer holidays, and perhaps spend Easter with his Aunt Marge. Vernon had always wanted a vacation home in Majorca, so they had considered Spain, France, and Northern Africa. Any of those places would allow them to pop over to Majorca for an odd weekend holiday, and they wouldn't be straying too terribly far from the United Kingdom.

Plans set for two possible scenarios, they had begun casual preparations. Once Vernon had told his superiors that he would be agreeable to such an arrangement, they had begun packing seldom-used items, and identifying items for disposal. Always organized, Petunia had drawn up a schedule of things that had to be done, assuming they would be leaving at the end of Dudley's summer holiday.

Harry, she hadn't worried about. He didn't bother coming home for Christmas and Easter, which she was frankly glad of, and he hadn't spent the entire summer holiday with them since he'd started attending that freak school. She had planned to get as much work out of him as possible, while he was there, then he would probably want to go visit that horrid red-headed family again.

Actually, she hadn't been inclined to let those destructive animals anywhere near her household ever again, especially after what they did to poor Dudders last summer, but she and Vernon had been faced with the problem of what to do with Harry when they moved.

As distasteful as it was, she and Vernon had decided to have Harry write that gang of ruffians, and inquire as to whether he could stay with them next summer. The summer after, he would turn seventeen. He would be of age in that freak world of his, and would no longer be her concern.

Then it had arrived. That damnable letter. The letter that informed her that Harry had been forced to participate in some insane tournament, one of his classmates was dead, and the monster that killed her sister had been reborn.

The monster that had a deep abiding hatred for half-bloods and muggles.

The letter had gone on, discussing safety precautions and the like, but Petunia had barely registered it. He would be after Harry in an instant. She and her family would never stand a chance! They had to run! Hide! The boy could no longer stay with them.

After that things had happened very fast. Suddenly it had been not just important, but imperative that they get themselves and Dudley as far away as possible. Equally important, they had to get their hands on and destroy as many of Harry's legal records as possible. The boy must not be traced back to them!

Actually, it had been amazing how conveniently things had fallen into place. Vernon had rushed to work the following Monday to see if it was possible to move up their timetable. As if by providence, a time-sensitive position in had come open, that had to be filled immediately. Something had happened to the person who was supposed to run the site. For once in her life, Petunia neither knew nor cared what had happened.

Vernon had snapped it up, of course, and had been given a bonus and a Special Recognition Award for his trouble. The fact that it happened to be in Australia was so much the better. Petunia wanted as much distance between her and Britain as possible at the moment. She wasn't sure if Vernon understood properly, but he was happy to be getting rid of the boy.

The next few days had been a blur. Packing and cleaning had been done in one mad rush. Most of the little improvements they'd planned on making to the house over the summer had been abandoned, since they no longer had two months to prepare. Everything had to be done right now, and most of the work had fallen on Petunia. Besides packing and cleaning, she'd dealt with estate agents, asked for the utilities to be disconnected, hired movers, and made travel arrangements. Her husband and son had been of little help, since Vernon was trying to get his affairs in order at work, and Dudley hadn't arrived from school.

As it was, they'd barely had time to see the movers off, leave the key with the company selling their house, meet Dudley's train, and get to the airport in time to catch their plane. When Dudley had asked after Harry, he'd been told that his cousin would no longer be staying with them. Shrugging, Dudley had accepted their story without comment. They'd taken off, heading for the Land Down Under at approximately the same time Harry would be arriving at King's Cross.

Petunia had felt a small niggle of guilt, which she'd squashed ruthlessly. Harry would either go directly home with that Weasley family, or else he had his owl. He could write to his blasted godfather to come and collect him. One way or another the boy would be looked after. Those freaks always looked after their own. It was the nonmagical folk who were left to their own devices. All Lily's fancy powers hadn't been enough to save their parents, and now she was gone.

Arriving in Australia had been a shock. Petunia knew about the weather phenomenon, of course, but it still hadn't prepared her. They were experiencing winter still, and Dudley had been less than pleased to learn that he'd be starting school again once they got settled. Grunnings had arranged for them to view several houses in Perth's many suburbs, so they'd spent about ten days looking at properties. Once they had selected one, they'd seen to the business of enrolling Dudley in one of the finer private schools. It would be a change for them all for Duddy to be returning home from school each day instead of living on site as he had at Smeltings.

Petunia sighed as she poked though a hopelessly disorganized box. Toward the end, they'd been literally throwing anything and everything in whatever container they could find. There simply hadn't been time to do a proper job of it. She sighed, thinking longingly of the way she'd planned to have Harry help her pack, organize, and catalog the contents of every box. The boy might be an abnormal freak, but he did have his uses. The unpacking wasn't going as smoothly or quickly as she wanted, but all things considered, she was making good time.

A knock on the door made her look up. "Who on earth could that be?" she wondered aloud as she went to answer it. When she opened the door, she found herself facing a sandy-haired man in khakis who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties.

"G'day!" he greeted her brightly. "The name's Nathaniel Baker. I'm trying to locate Vernon or Petunia Dursley."

"I'm Petunia Dursley."

"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Dursley. Welcome to Western Australia."

Relaxing a bit, Petunia nodded graciously, then accepted the man's proffered hand, and shook it. "Thank you, Mr. Baker," she said sneaking a quick look at her disheveled living room. "I'm afraid I'm not prepared to entertain. I'm in the middle of unpacking and really quite busy."

"No worries, miss," Nate said amiably, waving off her concern. "I'll just take a minute of your time. I've come 'round to fetch young Harry Potter as a favor to one of me mates in the International Confederation of Wizards. If you'll kindly direct me to the lad, his presence is required at Hogwarts."

Petunia closed her eyes and paled.

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