Chapter 45-Childcare 101, does this thing comes with instruction?

Harry looked up from the list he was reading, and smiled at the splashes and squeals and good-natured squabbling drifting down from the upstairs bathroom. Currently, he was seated on the sofa in the Wright's living room, waiting for the "all clear" so he could go up and have a practical lesson in the fine art of diapering. The boy shook his head fondly, as he continued to read. At first glance, babysitting had seemed fairly simple, but he was quickly finding out that there was much more to it than he thought.

It all started yesterday when the Wrights had stopped by the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had expected to sit down and sort out a few last minute details, but Janet had surprised him. She and Tom had obviously put their heads together at some point, so instead of tying up a few loose ends, Harry had essentially been presented with an itenerary.

The teen rolled his eyes at the memory. His plans, it seemed, were entirely too simplistic. He'd expected to walk to Janet's, stay a while, and walk back to the Leaky Cauldron. Their version of events was a bit more detailed. First, Janet would be picking him up and taking them all out to eat, before returning to the townhouse. Once there, she'd bathe the girls and get them ready for bed before handing them over to his care, and departing for the airport. Instead of returning to the Leaky Cauldron when she returned, Harry had been informed that he would be staying overnight, and furthermore, since the next day was typically Harry's "day off," Tom told him he didn't have to hurry back.

Caught between amusement and exasperation, he had cocked an eyebrow at the two of them and dryly asked if any input was needed from him. Janet had looked a little taken aback, but Tom theatrically slapped himself on the forehead and quickly stepped in before Harry could say anything further.

"This is my fault, Sparky," he declared, seemingly abashed. "Janet was fretting about how to get you safely home if you didn't want to spend the night at her house. She doesn't know how long she'll be gone, and she wasn't sure when your guardians should come by to collect you."

Oh. Struck speechless, Harry simply blinked in surprise. It had never occurred to him that Janet would worry about how he would be getting "home." He'd assumed he'd be expected to make his own way back, just as he'd expected to walk to her place from the Leaky Cauldron. Looking at the agenda in his hands, Harry was suddenly grateful for the lengths Tom must have gone to in order to insure Janet was comfortable with the babysitting arrangements without revealing anything Harry didn't want people to know.

"Now we're all aware of the fact that you can look after yourself, and if Janet's husband was expected earlier in the day this wouldn't be such an issue," Tom continued smoothly, as though refuting an argument Harry had voiced. "If you'll recall, we discussed the possibility of you walking back to the Leaky Cauldron and spending the rest of the night here, but considering the late hour, it just makes more sense for you to stay put at the Wrights' and walk back in the morning. I was supposed to have told you, but it completely slipped my mind," he finished apologetically.

Harry had been forced to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Considering they'd never had any such discussion, his respect for Tom's storytelling abilities grew tenfold.

"Tom said the late hour was a cause of concern, and your guardians asked if I was still willing to keep you overnight. I thought you knew, Jimmy," Janet added earnestly, reaching out a hand. "We didn't mean to hurt your feelings or leave you out. Forgive?"

As soon as he'd realized how Tom had been trying to keep Janet from finding out awkward facts Harry had been pacified. Tom's story was actually pretty accurate, come to think of it. Had he procured this job while staying with the Dursleys, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia almost certainly would have wanted him to stay overnight. The fact that they would have been more concerned about their own rest than his safety didn't need to be brought up.

Still, he'd played the part of "disgruntled teenager," rolling his eyes dramatically, and sighing "O-kay," in his best "put-upon" voice before relenting and clasping Janet's hand with a grin.

Frowning a bit, Harry raked his free hand through his hair, and blew out an aggravated breath. He couldn't deny that the "plan" made a good deal of sense, and skirted around some sensitive issues, but it still felt wrong to mislead his new friend this way. Trying to ignore his nagging conscience, the boy re-focused on his paper. He knew Janet found the way he rather stringently avoided discussing his "family" odd. She hadn't forced the issue, though, and for that he had been grateful. The fact was, she was very easy to talk to and entirely too quick on the uptake. If he slipped up and revealed the truth, he wasn't sure she would keep his secret. In fact, it seemed much more likely that she-in all intended kindness-would turn him over to the authorities.

Frustrated at the circular problem, Harry shook his head then chuckled when Becky's indignant "My duckie! My duckie!" brought him back to the present. He was being stupid. Janet liked him and all, but she probably wouldn't involve herself in his affairs. She had her own family to worry about, and anyway it had been a nice evening so far. There was no sense in borrowing trouble.

Relaxing a bit, Harry continued to replay the evening's events in his head. Dinner had been quick and casual. After a short discussion, (where he'd been allowed to vote!) they'd stopped at one of the hamburger restaurants located between Janet's house and the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had enjoyed himself immensely. He hadn't been out for Muggle fast food since Hagrid had taken him to Diagon Alley on his eleventh birthday. Besides which, with very few exceptions, he'd had nothing but "pub grub" at the Leaky Cauldron since the beginning of the summer holidays. It shamed him, and made him feel like the most spoiled, selfish prat on the planet, but after three solid weeks Harry found himself craving a little variety. Tom's food was good, and better by far than what he was used to dealing with in the summer, but he was grateful for the change of scene nonetheless.

The return to the Wrights' townhouse had also been a pleasant surprise. The first time he'd been over, Janet had been pleasant and hospitable, but hadn't exactly gone out of her way for him. Of course the fact that she'd been trying to unpack as many boxes as possible at the time might have had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, this visit was slightly different.

As Janet showed him around, making sure he remembered the lay of the house and pointing out where things like first aid supplies were kept, Harry couldn't help noticing that she'd taken some time to prepare for his arrival. It wasn't anything flashy or overt, but little signs of welcome were present nonetheless; from the cozy-looking bedding stacked on one end of the couch to the newly-purchased package of his favorite biscuits sitting on the kitchen table.

Harry laid his paper aside with a bemused half-smile. Janet knew he had no previous experience, and was a little nervous about being left alone as "the big person on the scene." She'd lightened his mood and calmed him significantly when she'd presented him with the colorful pre-printed form he'd just finished reading. It was a witty little paper entitled "The Babysitter's Crib Sheet," that had spaces for parents to list contact numbers, routine and emergency instructions, and any additional information they cared to share.

"Cute, huh? I found those a couple of years ago, and all my sitters have liked them," she had said, grinning at his reaction when he read the title. "Take a look at that while I bathe the girls and see if you have any questions." She'd started to leave, then paused and faced him with an embarrassed grin. "Sorry if I got a little carried away," she said, nodding at the paper which was filled from top to bottom, front and back with her neat handwriting. "I wasn't sure what you needed to know, so I figured too much was better than not enough," she said with a shrug. "Just take what you need and leave the rest."

She'd obviously been afraid he might be insulted, but Harry could have kissed her. He had loads of questions that he wanted to ask, but every time he'd tried, the words all seemed to get hopelessly muddled. He didn't even know how to properly phrase some of them. Her paper had addressed a lot of his concerns-well, enough that he thought he could get through the evening anyway. Even better, the instructions were clear and detailed without talking down to him or being patronizing. A definite plus.

A fresh round of giggles and splashes could be heard upstairs now. Harry glanced up at the ceiling and grinned again. The duck issue had evidently been resolved, and by the sound of it, a good time was being had by all.

Well, okay, almost all, Harry amended with a smirk, when Janet squawked in surprise, and told her daughters to kindly keep the water inside the tub. The scene upstairs was a far cry from what he remembered bathtime being like when he was small.

Aunt Petunia had always avoided touching him as much as possible, so bathing him had always been a chore she especially detested. She'd been rough out of pure resentment, and it was a wonder she hadn't drowned him in the process. In all honesty, it was hard to say who had been more relieved when he'd finally been deemed "old enough" to bathe himself unsupervised.

Huffing impatiently, the boy forcibly shoved the thought out of his head. He paused and regarded the stairs again when he caught some new sounds: draining water, followed a couple of minutes later by the whir of a hair dryer. Shouldn't be much longer now, the boy thought glancing reflexively at the clock.

Searching for a new distraction, he rose from the couch and wandered aimlessly around. Janet had certainly been busy since the last time he'd been over. There were still a few random boxes stacked off the the side, but on the whole it looked like the downstairs was mostly in order. This is a nice place, Harry thought, absently reading random titles from the Wrights' media collection, and looking at the decorative items on display. I wouldn't mind having a place like this someday...

Surprised by his own subconscious admission, Harry cocked his head thoughtfully to one side, trying to determine what struck his fancy so. Before now he'd only known what he didn't like, specifically the stuffy formality and unrelenting perfection his aunt had always favored. Her rooms, while aesthetically pleasing, had a "showplace" atmosphere that tacitly demanded propriety and decorum. Everything had to be "just so" at all times.

Maybe it's because magic is okay here, or fantasy at least, Harry mused, peering through the glass door of Janet's curio cabinet, and grinning at the rather varied collection inside. His Muggle relatives probably wouldn't find fault with the Russian nesting dolls, sea shells, and "normal" knick knacks, but Aunt Petunia would have sniffed disdainfully at the old and "much loved" stuffed bear that sat proudly on the top shelf, and Janet's assortment of dragon and unicorn figurines probably would have driven Dudley from the room at a run.

No, Harry decided. That wasn't quite right. Janet could have had a bunch of rocks in her cabinet and it wouldn't have mattered. It was the general feel of their home rather than the possessions in it. There was a cozy, welcoming quality to the room, that was completely unlike the prim little lounge he'd known on Privet Drive. Janet's living room, while attractive and tastefully put together, was meant to be used, not merely admired.

In a weird sort of way, it actually kind of reminded him of the Burrow. Janet Wright and Molly Weasley both favored comfortable, overstuffed furniture, and there was a certain quirky eclectiveness to both houses that he found endearing. Janet place was just...calmer. The Burrow, while no less friendly and inviting, had a frenetic, always-on-the-go quality that was lacking here. And face it, Kitty and Becky had their moments, but they were no match for the Weasley siblings.

Speaking of whom...

More giggles and scampering footsteps overhead made Harry glance at the ceiling again, then he stopped short and rolled his eyes in disgust. Waiting was definitely not his strong suite. Come on, Potter, get a grip! he silently chided himself, impatient with his own jittery quailing.

"Hey! Ready?"

Even though he had been expecting it, Harry jumped like he'd been shot at Janet's cheerful summons. When he jerked around to face her, he saw she was standing on the top step, looking shocked and properly ashamed of herself. "Jeez, Spark, I thought you heard us. I didn't mean-" she began, but he waved it off.

"I did hear you," he admitted, mounting the stairs and trotting up to meet her. He opened his mouth to explain, then closed it and smiled sheepishly when words failed him. "Don't mind me, I'm just being stupid," he said instead.

Janet didn't reply, just reached over and patted him between the shoulder blades, amusement and a touch of sympathy in her dark eyes. "It's really nice to know you care," she stated finally. "I think you'll do just fine. I'm just a phone call away if you have questions, and if things really go weird on you, Tom said you could go back to the Leaky Cauldron and he'd put the three of you in a room for the night."

That's true, Harry thought, nodding and offering her a lopsided smile. I also have Silas' mirror, and Dr. Granger's number if I need them. It was a weird feeling, really. He hoped he wouldn't need to use it of course, but he had more potential "help" at his fingertips for this one small job than he'd ever had for anything else he'd ever attempted.

"Thanks," he said aloud.

"No problem, but if you do leave, make sure to leave a note," Jan said, guiding him over to one of the bedroom doors. Knocking with her other hand, she called, "Hey, are you all decent in there?"

__________

Minerva McGonagall hurried toward the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, enchanted quill in hand, and a slightly confused frown upon her face. Albus hadn't been terribly forthcoming when he'd contacted her by Floo just now, but she'd learned to decipher his subtle mannerisms over the years.

He didn't say as much, but something was up.

Something he didn't feel comfortable discussing over the Floo Network.

Minerva shook her head distractedly. That was never a good sign.

"Ice mice," she said, upon reaching the gargoyle statue that guarded Dumbledore's domain. As she went up the spiral staircase and knocked on the door, she wondered again what calamity had arisen, and why on earth he wanted her to bring her registration quill of all things!

No one responded to her summons, which Minerva found odd. Albus normally seemed to get a great deal of enjoyment out of trying to unnerve his visitors. He'd call them in-by name-even before they'd had a chance to knock! McGonagall frowned, wondering if the Headmaster had stepped out for a moment, but no, she could hear the murmur of voices coming from inside. When she rapped again, and still no one answered, the Transfiguration professor cautiously pushed the door open, and found herself in a veritable beehive of activity.

Dumbledore was standing by the fireplace talking to one of the Hogwarts House Elves and an Order member that Minerva recognized as Kingsley Shackelbolt. Shackelbolt was an Auror, and conveniently enough, he was assigned to the case of the fugitive Sirius Black.

Professor Snape was sitting off to one side, scowling at several pieces of parchment.

Remus Lupin was writing what appeared to be an outline on a large blackboard while Sirius Back dictated.

Oddly enough, Arabella Figg, Molly Weasley, and Mr. Ronald Weasley were sitting around a table with three small Pensieves before them. Arabella and Molly were dropping silvery strands of thought into theirs, while Authur Weasley gently coached his youngest son through the procedure so he could do the same.

While Minerva was taking all this in with a growing feeling of unease, the fireplace blazed, and Filius Flitwick, the Hogwarts Charms professor, came tumbling out. He glanced around at the people inside, looking as bewildered as she felt, before spotting her and hurrying over.

"Minerva!" he said by way of greeting, then gestured at the room at large. "What's going on?"

McGonagall spread her hands helplessly. "I only just arrived, Filius, but I think we'll know shortly," she said, nodding in the headmaster's direction. Professor Dumbledore had finished his conversation and was heading in their direction. Shackelbolt and the house elf both nodded politely at them before taking their leave. Shackelbolt threw a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace, and the house elf disappeared with a loud crack!

"Thank you for coming so quickly," Dumbledore greeted the two professors as he neared. He summoned an envelope from his desk, then turned all his attention to his deputy headmistress. "Minerva, would you be so kind as to address this to Mr. Harry Potter?" he requested, handing her the envelope.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, but she complied without comment. Everyone on the teaching staff was accustomed to receiving rather odd and confusing instructions from the Hogwarts Headmaster from time to time. It was something of an inside joke amongst the faculty, and they'd often chatted about adding Can follow odd instructions without hesitation or complaint to the list of requirements for new professors. Stifling a sigh, Minerva accepted the envelope and laid it and her quill on a handy table. It was usually best to act first and ask questions later, so she drew her wand and did as he asked. Obediently, in response to her spell, the quill drifted over the envelope and wrote Mr. H. Potter

Then it stopped.

It hovered over the place where the address should be written for several seconds, before writing Unknown and skipping down to the next line. Flitwick and McGonagall exchanged confused glances, then looked to their employer for an explanation. They were slightly surprised to see Dumbledore watching the quill with what seemed to be undue anticipation. Even now, he was staring at the struggling quill intently, as though trying to will it into divulging useful information.

Thinking it best not to say anything just yet, Minerva returned her attention to the paper. The quill was writing again, but seemed to be fighting against some unknown force. Laboriously it scratched out England, then floated gently down to the tabletop looking quite exhausted.

Dumbledore, Minerva noted, seemed disappointed but not overly surprised by the quill's behavior. She exchanged another look with Filius, then ventured a question. "Albus, what is going on here?"

Sirius, meanwhile, had noticed the two newcomers and hurried over to investigate. "Anything?" he demanded tensely, making all three professors jump.

"I'm afraid it isn't much, Sirius, but we do have another small clue," Albus replied, recovering quickly and indicating the envelope.

Sirius glanced down where Albus was pointing. "Oh, brilliant!" he snorted derisively, when he spotted the envelope. "That certainly narrows it down!"

"Better that than 'The United Kingdom' or 'Europe.'" Dumbledore pointed out mildly.

"Or the planet Earth, yeah, yeah I know..." Sirius sighed, then visibly gathered himself, and quirked a half grin at the newcomers. "Professors," he greeted, before hurrying back in the direction he'd come.

Albus watched him leave, shaking his head in light exasperation before returning his attention to the two dumbstruck faculty members. "As you have probably deduced," he explained quietly, "a few things have come up with regard to Mr. Potter. I sent for Mr. Weasley by Floo, and I have owled Miss Granger. I am hoping they can provide some additional hints and clues. All we know at this point, is Mr. Potter is not with his Muggle relatives."

McGonagall glanced over to where Ronald Weasley sat with his parents then looked at the envelope and shook her head in confusion. "Albus, that quill should have been able to pinpoint his location in an instant!" she hissed in alarm.

*********