Chapter 55- be careful of what you ask for (part 2).

Sneaking a glance at the dark-haired toddler, Harry was pleased to see she was smiling and laughing again. Truthfully, he didn't know if being able to sense things sometimes was a blessing or a curse, but it had certainly come in handy in this case. When he'd made eye contact, suddenly he had known exactly what she was feeling-no guesswork necessary. Affection, remorse, fear of rejection, concern for his hurt... It had been amazing-quite possibly the clearest "reading" he'd ever had. He'd almost been able to pick out actual thoughts!

She'd probably insist on tutoring him personally. Oh, well. It could be worse. It could be Snape, he reasoned practically, then considered his companions again.

The Wrights had initially subjected him to loads of 'get to know you' questions about home, friends, school and the like, but eventually they'd tapered off and were mostly ignoring him at the moment.

Well, not ignoring exactly, Harry amended absently. They were just chatting amongst themselves about various topics that he could contribute very little to, like Steve's trip over, local places Janet had scouted out, and the work left to do on the house.

Harry didn't take offense, though. They'd been apart for at least two weeks, so naturally they would want to catch up. Besides, his relatives had never included him in their mealtime conversations, preferring instead to pointedly ignore him. He was more than used to this sort of thing. In a really twisted sort of way, it was almost comfortingly familiar. "Homey", even. Much more so than earlier when they tried to draw him in-Whoa!

Harry blinked in surprise, stopping his ramblings cold when he realized where they were going. Bloody hell, Potter, that's just wrong! he thought with a slight shudder. The fact that everyone was sitting at the breakfast table pajama-clad and barefoot was proof that the Wright House was quite different from the Dursley's! He smirked a bit, imagining Aunt Petunia's reaction. "I set a civilized table, thank you very much," she'd say with a disapproving frown. "At the very least dressing gowns and slippers should be worn!"

Oh, yes. Much too casual for her tastes.

Trying not to snicker aloud, Harry glanced at Becky again, noting as he did so that she was pulling on her father's sleeve with a very sticky hand. "'Parky let Becky do ice," she informed Steve seriously, pointing at her cup once she had his attention. "I puts free pieces in alla cups."

"Well, so you did," Steve said, picking up his juice cup and taking a peek inside, after trying in vain to brush the mess off his sleeve. Including Kitty in his address, he invited, "So, speak to me daughters. What did you do last night?"

Kitty and Becky didn't need to be to be asked twice. Brightening at their father's request, they practically tripped over each other trying to tell him everything at once. Grinning at the girls' chatter, Harry listened as they told their parents about some of the things they'd done that morning and the night before. Since he wasn't being maligned too badly and no mention was being made of how he'd "cleaned" the living room, he left them to it, listening with half an ear, and letting his mind wander back again.

Maybe he was so accustomed to the Dursleys' fearful loathing that he was automatically expecting the worst and creating problems where there were none. The lingering hint of unease and confusion might have something to do with the parents being startled awake by their youngest child's panicked cries. It could also be a few stray "first meeting" nerves, or perhaps he was simply feeling echoes of his own stupid insecurities.

He hadn't said as much to anyone, but Harry had been horribly nervous about meeting the man of the house. He'd grown rather fond of his new friends in the short time he'd known them, and had been irrationally convinced that Janet's husband would hate him on sight.

Happily, all his fears had proven groundless. His aunt and uncle had always adopted a "guilty until proven innocent" stance with him, so he'd recoiled instinctively when Becky's horrified wails rang through the house, fully expecting the elder Wrights to burst into the kitchen flinging accusations and assuming the worst. Even in the midst of trying to calm Rebecca he'd been braced, primed and ready for a confrontational, negative reaction...

...so naturally the opposite had occurred.

They'd come rushing into the kitchen as expected, but the overall attitude had been one of concern, not condemnation. Steve had initially hung back, for which Harry was grateful, letting Janet handle the initial assessment and offer, erm, "medical aid" before announcing his presence.

Smiling softly, Harry touched his nose where Janet had, then sobered again. His reaction to Steve and his girls had been rather unexpected. Well, okay, not really unexpected, just stronger than normal. He usually did a fair job of accepting the fact that others had loving families and he...didn't, but today it had been harder.

Feeling inexplicably bereft and very much the outsider, he'd had to stifle an envious sigh and grimly battle down a surge of wistful longing when Steve twirled Kitty around and tossed Becky in the air. He'd told himself that he was being stupid of course, but hang it all! It was bloody hard to be on the outside looking in all the time! It seemed like he'd been there his whole life.

Because of the time he'd spent in the cupboard, or perhaps in spite of it, Harry had developed a rather vivid imagination, and had a tendency toward daydreaming. When he was very young, one of his most cherished dreams had been for some loving long-lost relative to come and take him away from the Dursleys. Later, especially after being introduced to Hogwarts and the Burrow, he'd consoled himself with Ron and Hermione's friendship, and the secret, treasured goal of having a family of his own someday once he'd finished his schooling and established himself.

When Sirius had come into his life Third Year, it seemed as though his childhood fantasy might come true after all, but now... Now, living with Sirius and having a family of his own seemed very far away indeed. Voldemort's return further complicated matters. In his more pessimistically morbid moments, Harry sometimes wondered if he and Sirius would both survive long enough to see either dream become reality. It wasn't something he'd ever discussed with anyone, but sometimes even the idea of living long enough to finish his schooling seemed highly unlikely.

Stop it, he chided himself impatiently. This seemed to be his morning for melancholy introspection. Voldemort will win for sure if you keep that attitude. You've had a good time here, focus on that.

Good advice, but awfully hard to follow, Harry thought with a small sigh, smiling slightly as the family laughed at something in the girls' recount. At least he'd been able to shake himself out of his reverie before they caught him staring.

Once the initial hubbub died down, Janet had brought Steve over. Harry had tried to play it cool during the introduction, but had ruined the effect he was shooting for when he turned to shake the man's hand...without putting the spatula he was using down first. He'd cringed and flushed in embarrassment, but Steve had merely chuckled and brought his own hand higher, clapping Harry on the shoulder as if he'd meant to do that all along. "I see we use the same tailor," Steve had said, indicating his own sweats and t-shirt, and the awkward moment passed.

It hadn't been a flawless meeting, Harry supposed, but it could have gone much worse. Stephen Wright was just a shade under six feet in height with Kitty's light brown hair, and Becky's gray-blue eyes. His manner was friendly enough, but he seemed to be reserving final judgement with regard to the young man in his kitchen. Harry could live with that, though. Janet's husband wasn't hostile, just...wary. Wary and protective of his family.

As he should be, Harry approved, subconsciously passing his own masculine judgement. Can't be too careful, you know. It was all right, really. One of the most profound experiences he'd had this summer was the satisfaction of being judged by his own merits and failings rather than prejudices or preconceived notions. If Steve was willing to give him a fair shake, Harry was fairly certain he'd win him over. Besides, Stephen Wright couldn't be much pickier than Flourish and Blotts' manager, Geoffrey Reed, could he?

Abruptly realizing that everyone had stopped talking, Harry looked up questioningly. Oops, what'd I miss? he wondered, glancing at Steve and Janet, who had identically contrite looks on their faces. When they noticed he was looking at them, they both smiled apologetically. After casting around for something to say, Janet broke off a piece of her cinnamon roll and popped it in her mouth.

"Mmm. This is wonderful. Absolutely marvelous," she grinned brightly, bringing the conversation back to more common ground. "You kids really did an excellent job with breakfast," she continued, beaming proudly at all three children before favoring Harry with a broad wink.

"I'll second that," Steve chimed in, catching Harry's eye and raising his cup in a subtle "toasting" motion before taking a cautious sip of the steaming cocoa inside.

Heartened, Harry acknowledged their tacit praise with a little nod and a look of pleased embarrassment. Steve and Janet were still looking a little chagrined, he noted, like they were afraid they'd insulted him by allowing themselves to get so sidetracked. If they only knew, he thought ironically. Compared to the Dursleys this is better than exemplary behavior!

Steve, meanwhile, set his cocoa down, and continued his earlier thought. "After living on fast food, airplane food and my own cooking, almost anything would be an improvement, but this beats my wildest dreams by a mile and a half," Mr. Wright declared, getting a mischievous glint in his eye. "Becky, my girl, when did you become such a fantastic cook?" he teased, kissing her hand and making her giggle happily.

Harry smiled as he watched their antics, relaxing further as the underlying tension slipped another notch, and a tremulous feeling of well-being began to take its place.

"We helped, Dad, but Sparky did most of it."

Ah, Kitty. Harry rolled his eyes at the younger girl while her parents exchanged a fond look. The Literal One. Her desire for fairness was equaled only by her desire for correctness. The Sorting Hat was probably going to have a hard time choosing between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, he theorized, before addressing the brown-haired girl.

"Why'd you go and spoil it? We were having them on!" he teased, breaking into helpless laughter with the rest of the family when Kitty crossed her arms and shot him a credible imitation of her mother's "I-Wasn't-Born-Yesterday-You-Know" look.

"Well if that's true, then I must offer my congratulations on a job well done," Stephen grinned at length, tipping an imaginary hat in Harry's direction once everyone had calmed down. "My culinary skills are limited to ground meat and barbeque grills-and no comments from the peanut gallery," he warned, shooting playful glares at his daughters and his wife.

"I didn't say a word, dear," Janet said innocently, while Kitty rolled her eyes and Becky laughed into her hands.

"Pfft. You don't have to. I can hear you thinking all the way over here."

Join the queue, Harry mused wryly, then looked up when Mr. Wright addressed him directly.

"So, Jim," Steve said conversationally, "my loving wife tells me you play on your house team."

"Yes, sir."

Steve waited a bit for Harry to elaborate then prompted, "So what's your sport? You look a little small for caber tossing or rugby...cricket, maybe? Soccer?" he speculated, studying the boy appraisingly.

"Uhhhh," Harry stalled, thinking furiously. "What do I say now?" he wondered frantically. Janet had just accepted "Sports" and "house team" and left it at that. Ironically, it was she who came to his rescue.

"What Spark's too polite to out and out say, is 'Soccer' is called 'Association Football' here," she corrected, then giggled ruefully. "Some people are very emphatic about that," she added, as though speaking from experience.

"Oh, yeah," Steve said, frowning and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "This is going to take some getting used to, isn't it? So what do they call American football here?"

Janet's smile grew positively wicked. "Ridiculous?" she suggested impishly, her manner suggesting that this was her opinion, no matter what the British population at large thought.

Harry glanced uncertainly between the two, but this was evidently a rhetorical argument. Instead of being angry or upset, Stephen heaved a long-suffering sigh and shook his head mournfully. "This is proof that you only have so much influence over those you love," he lamented, raising his eyebrows at Harry and gently shaking Janet's shoulder. "I've been working on this girl for twelve years or more, and she still doesn't have a sports-loving bone in her body."

Having no reply to that, Harry simply shrugged and smiled in a "Her loss" sort of way while wondering what Steve and Janet would make of Quidditch. He wasn't sure about Kitty, but Becky... If today was any indication, she had the makings of a brilliant beater-unless she ended up playing Quodpot, of course.

"Now me, I love sports," Steve went on, ignoring Janet's martyrish eye-roll. "I like to watch, I like to play-I've even coached." He looked Harry over again, and speculated, "Football, eh? So what position? Forward? Midfielder?"

"I play either, but a friend of mine says I'm a better Forward," Harry replied, thinking of Dean Thomas. His Muggleborn housemate was a huge West Ham fan, and liked to organize casual games on the school grounds in good weather.

"Mmm. Sounds like a lot of running. What kind of summer training program do you have?" Steve asked.

"Training program?" Harry echoed questioningly.

"Yeah. Your coach doesn't want you to get out of shape, right? Aren't you supposed to do some sort of conditioning over the summer break?"

"There isn't an official one, I'm afraid," Harry admitted, finally catching on. "My friends and I play practice games and work on our basic skills when we can, though."

"Ah, well, that's too bad," Steve sighed, sounding disappointed. "I was hoping you'd know where some good jogging areas were around here. Jannie hasn't had a chance to look into it. Something about being too tired to run after all that unpacking. I ask you," he teased, earning a playful cuff on the shoulder from his wife.

"So you like to exercise, I take it?" Harry asked, grinning.

Steve shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I do. I was always getting "volunteered" to lead P.T. when I was in the service. I was a trainer full time at one assignment."

Now it was Harry's turn to eye the other male appraisingly. "Cool," he grinned. "So do you hire out?" he asked, only half teasing.

"Oh, I'm sure something could be arranged," Steve grinned after pretending to consider it. "Don't worry, kid, we can fix you up."

"You do realize you've just signed on as his latest victim, don't you?" Janet remarked dryly, ignoring her husband's indignant protests, and seeming to verify Harry's growing suspicion that he might have gotten more than he bargained for.

"I don't want to be a bother," he hedged.

"No bother," Steve assured him with a shrug. "It'll be fun."

"So, Spark," Janet broke in, changing the subject, "what sights would you recommend as a native?"

"Sights?"

"Yeah. You know, touristy places," she clarified. "I only have so long before I have to start my job, and we want to make the best use of our free time. After I start working the schedule will be a little more constricted. I was just wondering what your opinion was on some of the places you've visited. Which ones are worth the trip, and what ones aren't all they're cracked up to be?"

Ah, Harry thought, pondering her question for a second before coming up empty. "I haven't been to a lot of places so I really can't help you," he admitted without thinking, then cringed and hastily tried to cover his slip. "What I mean is, my aunt and uncle never liked to take me sightseeing. They were always afraid something strange would happen," he adlibbed, hoping they'd think his relatives were just wary of being mugged or something. "I might be able to get some recommendations from some friends of mine," he offered hesitantly when Steve and Janet shared an undecipherable look.

Janet gave him a searching look, then reached out and gave his hand a little squeeze. "I'm sorry to hear that, Jim," she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

Harry noted absently that she tended to call him "Jim" rather than "Sparky" when she was being serious about something. "They did take me to a little zoo in Surrey once," he pointed out. "There's a nice reptile house there."

Brightening, Janet nodded with growing enthusiasm. "That might be nice, the girls like zoos." She glanced at him uncertainly, then shrugged. "If we can work around your schedule, maybe you'd like to see a few places with us. Once we figure out where we're going, of course."

"No museums!" Kitty piped up, seconded by Becky who agreed, "No zee-ums!"

"Hey, now wait just a minute," Stephen objected. "What do you mean 'no museums?'"

"Museums are boring, Dad!"

"Museums in moderation, just like everything else," Janet said firmly, heading off a squabble. "Besides, we aren't going anywhere until the house is finished. There are just a few boxes left in the living room."

Steve grinned guiltily. "And a few more coming in the mail," he admitted. "Hey!" he said, brightening suddenly, and jerking a thumb in Harry's direction. "Does the kid hire out?" he asked, trying to-

"Steve!"

-no, make that successfully getting a rise out of his wife. "Kidding! Just kidding!" he hastened to clarify, holding up his hands to ward her off when it looked like she might just strike him. "I'll deal with it, already! Sheesh!"

"Sorry, Spark," Janet chuckled. "People usually get one or two free visits before being subjected to the Wright Family Insanity."

"Yeah, well, a good sense of humor never hurt anyone," Steve retorted, grinning at his wife. "Besides, judging from your calls and e-mails, I figured you'd adopted him already."

"Well no, actually," Janet played along, winking at Becky and Kitty, "but that's a great idea! What do you say, Sparky?" she said, giving him her most winsome smile. "Can we keep you?"

Harry blinked a few times, stunned. He knew she didn't mean it in a "legal and binding" kind of way-but still! He'd never been formally asked before-well, except for Sirius, of course. George had sort of "dubbed" him an official Weasley at King's Cross, and before that it had been somewhat implied, but that wasn't quite the same.

Of course after last night it was entirely possible that neither Sirius nor the Weasleys wanted anything to do with him.

Stifling a sigh, Harry floundered a moment then decided he was being ridiculous. It was only a game. It wasn't like he was betraying Sirius or anything, and today had reminded him very clearly of how badly he'd always wanted to be part of a "real" family. Seeing no harm in it, he grinned and said, "Sure," in what he hoped was a playful way. "Sorry, you just took me by surprise."

"Well, nothing about this morning has been exactly normal I guess," Steve said, sharing an ironic look with Janet. "Welcome to the funny farm," he joked, reaching a hand across the table.

__________________________________________________________

Quodpot is a variant of Quidditch, played in North America. - Quidditch Through The Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp (J.K. Rowling)

This is a guess on my part since the zoo Harry, Piers and the Dursleys visit in HPSS is not specified. HPSS does state that Harry had never been to London before traveling there with Hagrid, so the London Zoo is eliminated. In light of that, I simply assumed proximity and moved on.

**********************