Chapter 64- and now for my next trick( part 2).

Steve chuckled appreciatively. "Yeah, that would have been good," he agreed, glancing up and catching Harry's eye. Still half-expecting some sort of scathing reprimand, Harry stood a little straighter and tensed involuntarily. He didn't quite know what to do with himself when Steve merely quirked a teasing eyebrow and poked his wife to get her attention.

"Look who's finally made it. What happened, Jim? Get caught in traffic?"

Squaring his shoulders, Harry responded with a rather sick smile, and forced himself to take a few steps into the room. Okay, this is it, he counseled himself, taking a deep breath and gripping the mantel for support. On the way down he'd decided to come clean to the Wrights-well as much as was safe, anyway. He'd been feeling bad about misleading them, and more importantly, they needed to know the risks involved in associating with him-just in case his cover was blown. If that meant they ordered him out of their lives, so be it.

This had all sounded perfectly reasonable and logical up in his room, but now that he was here facing five concerned stares, the words seemed to pile up like a logjam in his throat. All right, Harry thought, okay. Come on, Potter. You can do this. They were giving him more of a chance than he'd dared to hope for. No one was angry, no one was pushing. All he had to do was say a few measly words and it would all be over. So what are you delaying for? he grumbled. noting irritably that there was never a Basilisk around when you really needed one.

"I...I have to tell you something," he finally managed, wincing at the roughness of his voice, but determined to get it out before he lost his nerve, "and I don't expect you'll like it much."

Husband and wife exchanged a bewildered look, before glancing at Tom, who spread his hands helplessly. Even Kitty and Becky seemed shocked, watching Harry with eyes as big as saucers.

"Um, Tom told us a little about the Wizarding World and the Ministry of Magic, while you were upstairs," Janet finally offered, surprisingly sensitive to his distress when Harry couldn't find the words to start. "He also explained how you weren't sure what you were allowed tell us and how worried you'd been. Is that what you're upset about?"

"Partly," Harry allowed, studying them warily. "You're not too angry, then?" he asked hopefully.

"I think we might be able to overlook that one just this once," Steve said dryly putting an arm around his wife's shoulders. "I was in the Army, remember? Jannie and I know all about organizations who threaten dire consequences if a person doesn't follow orders."

"It's okay, Sparky," Kitty added earnestly. "I told you Mom and Dad would think magic was cool."

Yes, you did, Harry acknowledged, dredging up a nod and a wan smile for the little girl. He supposed he'd known all along that magic wouldn't be the real issue. Unfortunately, he didn't reckon the Wrights would be as calm and accepting when the topic changed to nutter evil wizards bent on world domination.

"I..." he tried again, stopping with a mortified grimace when his voice cracked under the stress. Redoubling his hold on the mantel shelf, Harry cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut for a second trying to get his wits together. When he heard footsteps he glanced up and discovered Janet had abandoned her seat, and was walking purposefully toward him. He watched tensely as she approached, reckoning she'd had enough and was either going to smack him or tell him to get on with it already, but to his surprise the dark haired woman did neither. He was further bewildered when he was taken gently but firmly by the arm.

"You need to sit down, sweetie. You're white as a sheet," Janet informed him worriedly, urging him over to the sofas where Tom was filling the last cup with strong, sweet tea. "Warm, too," she fretted, laying the back of her hand against his cheek as Tom slid the cup across the table. "Sparks, I think you're warmer than Becky. Maybe this should wait until you're feeling better."

"No," Harry argued, shaking his head. There was no way he was going to do this again. "I'm fine, really," he assured, trying to sound firm. Unfortunately the croakiness in his voice wasn't fooling anyone. Even Tom's steaming tea wasn't enough to get him talking properly. He wondered briefly if he should just leave well enough alone, but quickly dismissed the thought. Being around him was a risk, and the Wrights had Kitty and Becky to think of.

"The second bit is...harder," he finally said, glancing uncertainly between Steve and Janet. "I...well...what I mean is...if...if you don't want to see me again afterwards, I understand," he told them, not realizing he was about to touch off a minor explosion.

"What? Not see you again? Why?" Kitty and Janet demanded in horror, while Becky clung to his arm and wailed, "Want 'Parky! Want 'Parky stay forever!"

Brilliant, Potter. That went well, Harry berated himself as he frantically tried to calm the stricken children, and answer Janet's frightened questions. Clearly he shouldn't have put it quite like that. He raked a frustrated hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to fix his blunder, but Steve and Tom came to his rescue. The former whistled shrilly, while the latter shot several firecrackers out of the tip of his wand making everyone look up in surprise.

"Thank you," Steve acknowledged, exchanging a nod with the old wizard while Harry fidgeted nervously in the sudden silence. He squirmed even more when the Mr. Wright stood and regarded him very seriously. "Either you're more prone to adolescent melodrama than I thought, or there's something seriously wrong here," Steve commented, giving Harry a very piercing look. "So exactly what is it you've done that you think is so unforgivable?"

Rallying when confronted with a direct question, Harry raised his head and met the other man's gaze without flinching. "I've misrepresented my circumstances to you," he said quietly, rather proud of how calm and steady his voice sounded.

"Oh, you mean like the fact that you're living at the Leaky Cauldron and not with your aunt and uncle?" Janet asked from beside him, completely derailing his newfound poise. When he swung around to stare at her incredulously, she just laughed shook her head.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but people over twenty-one still have a few functioning brain cells," she chided, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "It's obvious, isn't it? No matter what time of the day or night I come by you're here or in the immediate vicinity, and Tom just sent you up to your room to bathe and change."

"Oh," was all Harry could think to say, studying her a little anxiously.

"I considered calling Child Protective Services if that's what you're worried about," Janet continued, again seeming eerily attuned to his concerns, "but...well...it-it just didn't seem like the right thing to do," she stumbled, suddenly less confident. She met Harry's eyes almost shyly, then visibly gathered herself and plunged on.

"I've learned to trust my instincts when they're that clear, because every time I haven't, I've regretted it. Besides, you seemed okay, and Tom appeared to be looking out for you, so I just took to stopping by so I could keep an eye on things myself."

Stunned, Harry blinked at her. "But the pumpkin juice!" he blurted, indicating the small, waiting-to-be-filled pitcher that was sticking up out of Becky's diaper bag. "You always came by for pumpkin juice!"

"Yes, well, I do have larger containers you know," she pointed out, grinning impishly. "You were making sarcastic observations about the iced tea in one of them a few days ago."

Harry's answering laugh was a breathy little gust of pure irony. Janet had always been so matter of fact, he'd never noticed, or even suspected ulterior motives. He'd just reckoned that was her favorite juice pitcher or maybe more would be too much for her to carry comfortably. Bloody hell, the whole thing was positively Slytherin!

Across from them Tom chuckled appreciatively. "Oh, you are a naughty one," he scolded Janet, grinning broadly all the while.

Surprisingly, given his nature, the only one who didn't join in the merriment was Steve. When Harry noted the discrepancy and glanced up at Steve again he found himself still being carefully studied. Mr. Wright's gaze was more thoughtful and less stern than before, however, so Harry took that as a good sign. "What is it?" he asked nervously, feeling rather like a bug under glass.

"Well when you started babbling about us not liking you anymore I thought you might be about to 'fess up to playing some mean tricks on Janet," Steve replied. "You know, like you gave in to peer pressure or something."

Shocked, by the indirect accusation, Harry quickly shook his head. "No, never!" He tried to think of something else to say but Steve waved him off, shrugging apologetically.

"I didn't think so. You seem to have more backbone than that," he admitted with a sigh. "Although in some ways I almost wish you had. At least then I'd have a better idea of what's going on." Shifting his focus slightly, Steve included Tom in his address. "We actually had a mission besides pumpkin juice this visit," he said, seriously. Harry watched curiously as he rummaged around in his coat pocket, finally coming up with a folded piece of paper.

No, wait, Harry realized with a blink. It was a folded piece of parchment. In fact, it looked disturbingly like common owl post stationary.

"Someone's been sending Jannie...well, let's just say they aren't invitations to tea," Steve was saying as he held up the letter. "The short story is, Janet found several of these on the front step last week-"

Catching on, Janet looked up from re-tying Becky's shoe. "Steve!" she groaned in exasperation. "I can't believe you brought that thing here. Tom and Sparky aren't responsible! Besides, it's been days since that one came!"

"What is it?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself, but Janet just shook her head.

"It's nothing," she insisted, setting Becky on the couch by her sister. "Just someone being a jerk!"

"You may be right, but there's no harm in making sure, is there?" Steve pointed out. "Come on, aren't I allowed to worry about you? If you're right and this is just some idiotic prank, or maybe one of the locals being an ass, that's one thing. If it's more serious, we need to know. I just thought Tom or Jim might be able to give us some information. I'm certainly not accusing them of anything."

Relenting, Janet sighed. "Fine, but get your facts straight. There were three letters, total. You made it sound like there were more."

"Okay," Steve said, picking up his story without missing a beat. "Janet found three of these on the front step last week," he corrected himself, while Janet nodded.

"I got one a day for three days, and then they just stopped," she said with a shrug. "There was no postmark and no address. Just my name and 'London'."

"If I had to guess, I'd say someone sent you an owl," Tom theorized, echoing Harry's suspicions. He chuckled warmly at Steve and Janet's blank faces, and obligingly sketched out the basics of the wizard postal system for them.

When he finished, Steve looked a little happier. "So there's a chance the sender may not know our house's physical address?" he asked hopefully, relaxing visibly at Tom's verifying nod. "Well that's something, anyway. I was afraid they, whoever they were, were just walking up to the house and tossing them on the porch. Not a very comforting thought."

"I rather doubt it," Tom said reassuringly. "Post owls are very good at what they do. May I?"

"What? Oh, sure. Sorry," Steve said, passing the letter over. Curious, Harry watched as he unfolded the letter and glanced at the note, frowning uneasily when his boss's face darkened like a thundercloud.

"Rubbish!" Tom scoffed angrily. "Absolute codswallop!"

"Yeah, that's about the size of it," Steve replied dryly. "What about you, Jim? Does this mean anything to you?"

Surprised and pleased at his inclusion, Harry leaned forward and accepted the page from Tom. The note was very short, so it didn't take long for him to discover what everyone was upset about.

Begone, Muggle, and take your brats with you.

The Leaky Cauldron's too good for your kind!

"Prats," he muttered, shaking his head in disgust at the "your kind" reference.

"Yeah, I know, it doesn't make sense," Janet commented. "At first I thought it might be some kind of 'Yankee Go Home' thing, but all the people I've met have either been friendly or indifferent."

"Could it possibly be fear talking?" Steve wondered. "You said the magical community keeps itself hidden, and 'Muggle' means people like us, right? Well, like Janet and me, anyway," he amended, smiling proudly at his daughters. "Do you think this person simply sees Jannie as a security risk?"

Tom frowned, considering. "It's possible," he admitted, "but I get Muggles in here from time to time. The most common lot are Muggleborns like Kitty and Becky here, but occasionally a Muggle without a speck of discernable magic will wander in. It's been a problem since Daisy Dodderidge built the place almost five hundred years ago.

"To get around the problem without posting a guard, some clever soul built a secondary defense," Tom continued. "The mechanics of the spells are rather complex, but essentially what occurs is any person entering the Leaky Cauldron sees what they expect to see. Witches and wizards expect to see the Leaky Cauldron, so they do. Most Muggles at least perceive it as a pub, but not always. One old dear who was a regular before she passed away was convinced this was a very fine tearoom.

"I was actually quite happy when Sparky told me your children were magical. The odds of the two of you perceiving the pub in the same way were next to nothing so it was just a matter of time before the inner defense was breached. As you found out today, the second a person doubts what they're seeing, the illusion crumbles."

"What do the kids have to do with it?" Janet asked.

Tom looked uncomfortable. "They will be offered magical training at some point, either through the British or American school system-possibly both. In other words, you just found out about magic a little earlier than you might have otherwise. As the parents of magical children you have the right to know, and I'm sure you can see it's in your family's best interest to keep the secret. If the girls had been Muggle as well the Ministry would have stepped in and things could have gotten...more complex."

"Sounds like there's some tension with regard to 'Muggles'," Steve commented shrewdly.

"Yes," Tom admitted with a sad sigh. "The magical community isolated itself hundreds of years ago, and a lot of the old families still cling to the belief that Muggles shouldn't be tolerated for any reason. Some even claim 'Muggleborns' are somehow inferior to 'Purebloods' which is rubbish, of course. Children all have their strengths and weaknesses regardless of heritage, and no one, not even our top researchers have been able to fully explain why some humans can perform magic and others cannot."

"Do you think it could be genetic?" Janet asked, intrigued in spite of herself. "Like Steve and I are carriers or something?"

"That's possible. It's also possible that they weren't singled out for schooling for some reason or another, or perhaps their parents couldn't or wouldn't allow them to attend."

Becky by this time was drowsing, but Kitty was still keeping up with the conversation. "Mom?" she asked finally, "Dad? Would you like to try my ball? Sparky could make it change color. Maybe you can, too."

Tom beamed at her. "Excellent! Mind if I have a go?" he asked, smiling as she shook her head and held out a ball.

"Just think of a color," she instructed, glancing over at Harry for support. "Right Sparky?"

Harry nodded. "That's right," he agreed, smiling with everyone else when Tom turned his ball lemon yellow. Steve seemed uncharacteristically hesitant when Kitty moved in front of him, so he Harry reached over and turned the ball red. "There's nothing to it," he encouraged quietly.

"Sparky!" Kitty scolded, giving him a little shove before turning back to her father. "Here, Dad," she said sweetly, snuffing the red ball and creating a fresh one.

"No pressure," Steve grumbled lightly, noting how closely he was being watched. Gingerly he reached out and took to the ball his daughter was holding out, balancing it on the palm of one hand.

"Try blue," Janet suggested when nothing noticeable happened.

"I am trying blue," he returned, frowning at the ball like it was being difficult on purpose.

"Oh." Janet watched quietly for a minute then offered, "I think it turned a little bit."

"Nah," Steve disagreed, trying not to be disappointed. Ah, well."

"I think it did a little, Dad," Kitty said, holding up a fresh white ball for comparison. Sure enough, there was a faint tinge of blue, but it was nowhere near the deep, rich shade Steve had been envisioning. Kitty gave her dad a hug and assured him she still loved him before turning to her mother.

"Mom?" she said, holding out the white ball she'd created for comparison purposes.

"Oh, honey, if Dad can't do it what makes you think I can?"

"Actually," Tom put in with a wink before Kitty could respond, "I think you might be surprised."

"Uh-huh," Janet replied, sounding supremely unimpressed. "Oh, fine," she gave in, dutifully extending a hand, only to snatch it back a second later when the ball Kitty was holding turned bright green. "Oh my God," she gasped in shock, covering her mouth with one hand. "Oh my God!"

"That's my girl," Steve whooped, sharing triumphant looks with the others, but Janet didn't seem to hear him.

"No! It can't be!" she whispered desperately as her face lost all color. "Thu-they said...they said..."

Frowning, Steve put his hands on her shoulders. "Jannie, we just told the kids they weren't going to get kicked out of the family. That applies to you too," he teased gently, but instead of being pacified, Janet only got more agitated. Knocking Steve's hands away, she made a grab for the diaper bag and pawed through it until she found her cell phone.

"Oh, my God, I can't believe this! All this time..." she babbled desperately, shaking the instrument angrily when she couldn't get it to connect. "Damn thing, I can never get a signal in here..." she growled, rising from her seat and pacing the room.

Kitty looked like she might burst into tears any minute, so Harry rose and stood behind her offering what comfort he could. "Easy," he said quietly, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I don't know what your mum's on about, but it's not your fault."

"Janet," Steve said uncertainly, before his voice took on a scolding tone. "You forgot to take your medicine today, didn't you!"

"What? No! I just...I just need to call my folks. I have to get this straightened out. Just...just stay here. Watch the kids for a second. Shouldn't take long. I...I'll be right back," she said, darting out of the parlor before anyone could stop her.

"Janet, wait!" Steve hollered after her but she'd already cleared the door into Muggle London. Instinctively he took a couple of steps forward before remembering his daughters and swearing softly.

Harry shook his head when Steve turned back. "Go on," he said, holding up a hand. "We'll be fine."

Steve eyed him uncertainly. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll fill the pitcher and then we'll follow you to your place. Don't worry, I'll watch them until you two get this sorted."

Steve appeared to argue briefly with himself, then nodded tersely. "Thanks. I owe you."

___________

Janet Wright shook her head angrily as she tore up the street. That was what was so familiar about those letters. It had been bugging her for days. She had received a postageless postmarkless letter right after her tenth birthday.

"Look Mom! There's a letter for me!"

"That's nice dear. Who's it from?"

"I don't know...it says The Salem Witches' Institute across the top..."

"WHAT?"

"Dear Miss Andrerson, Congratulations and welcome! You have been accepted into the Salem Witches' Institute..."

Oh my God, Janet thought again, before settling into a more satisfying mantra of Damn...damn...damn... in time with her pounding footfalls. She had a rather ground-eating stride despite her small frame, so it wasn't long before she was leaning against her front door and swearing roundly because she'd fled from the Leaky Cauldron with nothing more than the cell phone that was still clenched in her fist.

Curbing a wild urge to throw the device as hard has she could, Janet closed her eyes and leaned her back against the door and trying to catch her breath. Sanity was returning now, and with it, the undeniable fact that she'd made a complete and utter fool of herself. How was she going to reassure Kitty? And how would she ever face Tom and Jim again?

"Forget something?" a voice asked out of nowhere, making her eyes fly open again.

Oh, great, and let's not forget Mr. Show-Me-Hard-Facts-Not-Vague-Feelings, Janet thought a bit uncharitably as she accepted the diaper bag with a sigh. Since she was obviously all right now, Steve had his arms folded on his chest and was regarding her with his best "You Got Some 'Splainin' To Do" expression.

Steve.

Alone.

"Steve! Where are the kids?" she almost shrieked, her fragile calm cracking.

He was beside her in a blink. "Shh, it's okay. They're with Sparky. He's going to give us a few minutes then bring them here," he said, reaching into his jeans pocket for his housekey. "So would you mind terribly telling me what the hell that was all about? You scared poor Kitty to death, not to mention the rest of us," he scolded as he unlocked the door.

Shamed, Janet lowered her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry. I just..." She stopped and took a deep breath.

Relenting, Steve laid his palm between her shoulder blades and gently steered her into the kitchen. "Here, sit down."

When he had taken the chair beside her, Janet haltingly explained how the odd letters she'd gotten had seemed vaguely familiar in looks if not in content, and how turning Kitty's ball green had finally enabled her to recall the letter she'd received from the Salem Witches' Institute.

"I hadn't thought about it in years," she admitted. "I still don't remember it clearly. I just remember Mom taking it away from me. She was angry-I guess she thought I'd been targeted by some scam artist or weird cult."

"Well your folks have always been hyper-protective of you, Jannie," Steve commented carefully. "Although under those circumstances I can't say I blame them."

Janet shrugged. "I guess. Some people showed up not long after that, claiming to be representatives of the school. They talked to my mom, telling her about their school and asking her if she'd ever noticed any out-of-the-ordinary behaviors from me." She paused and flicked Steve an ironic look.

"Of course they never had," she continued after a second. "If this gut feeling I get from time to time is actually some kind of...ability...she wouldn't have. I never did anything obvious, I was always just a really good guesser."

"No, Janet," Steve disagreed. "It's more than that. Look, I've lived with you now for a number of years, and if I've noticed, your folks must have. You do things without even realizing it sometimes, like just now when you asked Jim about his aunt and uncle and mentioned Child Protective Services. He wasn't giving a lot away. I had no idea that was what was bothering him, but you zeroed right in on it. I think you freaked the poor kid out."

Janet mulled this over, jumping when someone rapped twice on the door before cautiously opening it. She started to get up, but Steve held her in her seat. "It's probably the kids. Stay while I make sure," he said, disappearing into the living room and re-entering a few minutes later with the pitcher of pumpkin juice. "They're fine," he assured Janet as he put the jug in the refrigerator. "They're going to watch a movie."

Janet watched as he reclaimed his seat and took her hand. "I suppose the school delegation will be visiting us soon," she commented with a shaky little laugh. Steve nodded.

"Yeah, we'll have some chioces to make soon," he agreed. "One of which might be where Kitty goes to school. Jim might be helpful to talk to. He's obviously still in school and can tell us about the one he goes to."

"But he said he goes to boarding school," Janet objected, sounding almost comically aghast. "I don't want to send Kitty away."

Steve sighed. "Look, we don't have all the facts, so lets not go borrowing trouble. It's a good bet that Kitty will be getting a letter from somewhere at some time in the near future, so let's just wait and see what our options are, okay?"

"Okay."

"So, ready to go check on the kids?" he asked after a few minutes of silence, chuckling at the nervous look on her face. "Come on," he chuckled, rising and extending a hand.

Janet allowed him to haul her to her feet and lead her into the living room, already trying to decide how on earth she was ever going to explain herself. I've probably scarred Kitty for life and Jim probably thinks I'm a complete moron...oh! Oh, how cuuuuute!

Steve grinned and shook his head as he considered the pile of sleeping kids on the couch. Poor Jim was scrunched up against the arm of the sofa with Becky in his lap, and Kitty huddled against his side. "I didn't figure they'd last long," he commented softly. "Jim's looked fit to collapse since he fell out of the fireplace."

"Yeah...and he never did tell us what he was so worried about, did he? We got to talking about the letters instead," Janet mused absently, spying the camera and squeezing off a quick shot before moving over to the couch. "Come on, lets get the girls upstairs so Jimmy can stretch out."

Steve nodded, lifting Kitty while Janet stopped the tape and plucked Becky out of Sparky's lap. When the girls were snugly tucked into their beds and the baby monitor was on, they returned to the living room.

Sparky was still as they'd left him, only now he was shivering a little. Janet knelt by the couch and frowned when she laid her hand against his cheek.

"What is it?" Steve asked, noting her concern.

"Fever," Janet sighed, tugging Sparky's headband off so she could reach his forehead. "Steve, he's really hot. Maybe we should set up the new air mattress for him. It might be more comfortable than the couch," she suggested, pulling a crocheted afgan off the back of the couch and wrapping it around her charge.

"It might," Steve agreed. "I'll set it up in the study."

"Where?"

"I thought we could turn that little spare room into a study or a library," Steve shrugged. "Extra bedding is in the hall closet, right?"

"Yeah, the bed's there too-but I thought that was going to be our guest room!"

"Well then I guess we should put the matter to a vote. Wanna flip for it?"

" Steeeeeve! "

"All right, fine, we'll discuss it later. Where's the pump?"

"It's one of those new ones with the attached pump, remember? All you should have to do is plug it in."

"Right. No, I can set the bed up," he said when she rose and started to follow him. "You do a quick check of the pantry and the medicine cabinets and see if we need to run to the store. I'll help you get him up to the study once the bed's made."

"Okay...wait a minute, you mean our guest room don't you?"

"Fine, fine, the study our guest room," he returned with a dismissive wave. "One of us has to go let Tom know what's going on, so it might as well be me. Make a list of anything we're out of and I'll stop by the store on my way back," he instructed before disappearing up the stairs.

___________________________________________________

According to the Harry Potter Lexicon, Daisy Dodderidge built the Leaky Cauldron in 1500.

I'm basing this off the "Aerobed" brand mattress which I believe came out in the mid-1990s. If my memory is not correct, call it artistic license. I like the fact that this particular product is raised off the floor somewhat. I also find it more comfortable and easier to deal with than a traditional air mattress.