CHapter 54- Be careful what you ask for (Part 1)

Sunday, July 23, 1995

...

"You saw that, right?"

Janet Wright glanced into the kitchen, then met her husband's eyes again.

"Tell me you saw something, at least," he tried again, his whispered tone almost pleading, "because if you didn't I'm more jet lagged than I thought and may require hospitalization."

That earned him a nervous chuckle. "No, I definitely saw something," she verified. "I just can't explain it offhand."

"Oh, good. I was worried for a second there." He paused briefly then tried, "Is that some new toy?"

She shook her head. "Nothing I bought for her."

"Could he have given it to her?" Steve asked next, nodding in Sparky's direction.

"Jimmy?" Janet glanced into the kitchen, then shrugged. "It's possible, I guess, but I don't think so. Besides, Becky didn't act like it was anything new."

"She got rid of it awful damn fast. Where did it go?"

"I don't know. She doesn't have any pockets in those pajamas, and it isn't on the floor."

Husband and wife shared a long, searching look.

"So by all appearances," Steve stated at length, "our oldest daughter can produce and dispose of a white light on demand."

"Um, yes. I'd say that's a fair statement," Jan agreed faintly.

"And the babysitter can make it change color."

She nodded slowly, feeling a little dazed, then added, "Becky, too if I'm reading her reaction correctly."

"Hmm. Good point," he concurred, then frowned. "Was it my imagination or did Kitty act like she doesn't want us to know?"

"No, she definitely seemed nervous."

"Why would she hide something like this from us?"

"How should I know?" she hissed, frustrated and stung by his words. "I found out about this exactly when you did."

"True."

"So what now?"

"Well, they're expecting us to come down, and we're going to look awfully silly if they find us lurking in the hall like this," he pointed out reasonably. "Let's back up and make some noise so they know we're coming in, then we can get this all straightened out."

"Okay."

Janet followed her husband back a few paces, then both of them hurried back, making more noise than before. Impatiently trotting ahead, she reached the kitchen first. "Is everything all right in here?" she called as she hurried in, not quite keeping the anxiety out of her voice.

"Mama!"

Janet smiled gently as she watched Becky run toward her, arms outstretched. Sparky had evidently gotten up in the interim, and was replacing the ice in the freezer while Kitty refilled the sugar bowl. Leaning down she tried to pick up the agitated toddler, but Rebecca shook her head. "What is it, sweetheart?" she asked, frowning, when her daughter latched onto her hand instead and tugged insistently.

"'Parky gotta boo-boo," Rebecca said, dragging Janet over toward the uncertain-looking teen. "Look!"

"Yeah, Becky whacked him in the face with the broom," Kitty clarified, putting the lid on the sugar bowl and joining them.

"Didn't mean to!" Becky returned angrily.

"Of course you didn't," Janet soothed, shooting the older girl a quelling look, and frowning a bit when Jim seemed to reflexively tense at her approach. "Are you all right, Sparks?" she asked concernedly, noting that the boy seemed unusually nervous.

He blinked at that as though taken by surprise, and his wariness diminished a jot. "Yes, ma'am," he responded at length. "It was nothing-just a little accident," he went on, seeming to gain confidence when Janet just looked at him questioningly. "Becky got upset when she realized she'd hit me is all."

Nodding, Janet lifted her younger daughter and propped her on one hip so she could see the object of her concern properly. "He's all right, darling, see?" she coaxed, putting her free hand on Sparky's shoulder when Becky still didn't look completely convinced.

"But I made him cwy!" she confessed miserably.

Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't you dare laugh! Janet ordered herself, struggling mightily to keep from doing just that. Becky was completely serious, and poor Jim already looked like he wished there was a convenient hole he could crawl into. Laughter probably wouldn't be taken well by either party. Even Kitty, who was prone to nervous giggling seemed to realize this, remaining silent as she came over and patted her sister's leg.

"When someone gets hit on the nose it usually makes their eyes water," Janet casually supplied, noting the red mark on Sparky's face and speaking to him as much as Becky. "They taught me that in my self defense class. Now, do you think there's anything we can do to make things better?" she asked, trying to hint to Rebecca that an apology might be in order.

Becky had something else in mind, however. "Kisses," she declared, beaming. "Mama kisses."

Oh. Of course, Janet thought, glancing between the perfectly earnest baby, and the rather horrified-looking young man in front of her. Any calamity capable of producing tears automatically demanded lots of TLC as far as Becky was concerned. Still, Jan hesitated. It wasn't that she minded granting her daughter's request, but something about the boy's demeanor told her that he probably wouldn't tolerate a sudden invasion of his personal space.

Deciding to take a less intrusive route, Janet brought her free hand to her lips, planted a tiny kiss on her index finger, then slowly reached out and transferred the "kiss" to the injury. He stayed still and allowed the touch, but she couldn't help but notice how he tracked her hand with his eyes. "There," she declared brightly. "Better now?"

"Erm, yes. Thanks," he said, sounding a little bewildered, but playing along. Probably for Becky's benefit, Jan mused, wondering again about the cause of his upset. Trying to lighten the mood, she waggled her eyebrows and commented, "Great stuff, mommy spit, wouldn't you agree, Spark?" When he blinked in confusion and looked questioningly at her, she elaborated, "all purpose healing agent," finally earning a chuckle and a small smile.

"And let's not forget 'emergency facial cleanser'," Steve remarked from the doorway, making his presence known for the first time.

Janet jumped in surprise along with the kids, then immediately felt foolish. She'd gotten completely sidetracked, darn it! This certainly wasn't the longest time she'd ever been separated from Steve, but it was evidently going to take a day or two to get used to having him around again. Grinning sheepishly at her husband, she shrugged apologetically while the girls squealed in delight. "Daddy!"

Wasting no time, Kitty dashed across the kitchen at a full run, while Becky struggled to get out of Janet's arms. "Wan' down, Mama!" she fussed impatiently. "Wan' down!"

"All right, all right," Jan chuckled, setting Rebecca on her feet while Steve caught Kitty in a big bear hug and swung her around. "Head's up, Dad," she warned playfully, as Becky made a beeline in his direction. Not missing a beat, Steve set Katrina down then swooped the toddler up in his arms, tossing her in the air and making her shriek with laughter.

Smiling indulgently, Janet stood aside and looked on while her daughters basked in their father's attention. They really had missed him, poor things. As mom, she was the parent of choice when they were tired or ill or otherwise out of sorts. Steve was the one they went to when they wanted to play.

Shaking her head fondly, Jan looked on a little longer then sniffed questioningly. Apparently whatever Sparky had in the oven was pretty close to being done. She turned slightly, intending to ask him how much longer it needed to bake, but the question died unasked when she spotted him standing off to one side with a sad little smile on his face.

Over the course of their acquaintance, Janet had "caught" Jim watching her interact with Kitty and Becky several times, but hadn't thought much of it. She'd always been distracted with the kids, and he always noticed immediately when she looked back, smiling as though merely amused by her family's antics. This time, she'd obviously intruded on a private moment when he thought himself unobserved.

Unsure what to do, she stayed half-turned, watching the boy with her peripheral vision. The unconscious longing in his eyes was painful to see, but mercifully brief. Abruptly he seemed to snap out of it, giving himself an impatient little shake, and casting around for something to do. As Janet continued to observe, he bent to retrieve the forgotten broom, and set about sweeping up the spilled sugar.

Deciding this would be a good opportunity to talk, she went to fetch the dustpan. "Here," she said, holding it for him, and ignoring yet another look of bewildered surprise. "So, how did everything go last night?"

"It went well, I think, all things considered," he replied with a mysterious little smile, then his expression became more guarded. "I'm afraid I did let Becky get overtired, though."

"It happens," Janet shrugged, dumping the sugar into the trash. "That suggestion was more for your sanity than anything else. She can be a handful once she gets past a certain point. There have been a few times when I've considered rocking her to sleep-with real rocks," she teased outrageously, grinning impishly when she startled a laugh out of the boy.

"Yes, well, fortunately it didn't come to that," he remarked dryly, looking up when the kettle whistled and moving toward the stove. "I think everything should be ready now," he commented, changing the subject.

Janet nodded, watching while he took the kettle off the heat, and removed a pan of cinnamon rolls from the oven. She turned to call the rest of the family, but there was no need. Something, probably the kettle, had caught their attention, because Steve and the girls were coming over.

"Cocoa!" Kitty grinned, as she neared. "Dad, will you please make me a cup of hot cocoa?"

"Sure, sweets," he returned with a grin and a flick of his fingers. "POOF! You're a cup of hot cocoa!"

"Daaaaaad!"

Janet rolled her eyes at the two of them, and turned back to the stove when she heard a muffled snort. Steve's moldy old joke had evidently tickled Jim's funny bone, but he was trying very hard not to show it for some reason. Probably thinks it wouldn't be proper, Jan speculated, watching in amusement as the boy picked up the spatula and poked at the bacon, obviously trying to distract himself.

"Well, if your mother will kindly show me where she put everything, I'll be happy to oblige," Steve was saying in response to his decidedly unappreciative audience. Taking her cue, Janet gathered some cups, a spoon and the cocoa mix and arranged them on the counter in front of her husband. "Thanks," Steve said, then lowered his voice. "So, did you ask him?"

"No, he's unusually jumpy today," she murmured in response, standing beside Steve and sliding her arm around his waist while they were talking. "I think he's nervous about meeting you. Let's get him settled down first, then we can see what's going on. There has to be some explanation."

""Okay," Steve said agreeably as he finished spooning the brown powder into the cups. "I'm ready for the kettle now. Shall we?"

Nodding, Janet went back to the stove. "Jimmy, I'd like to introduce you to my husband, Stephen Wright," she said with a smile, indicating the man beside her. "Steve, this is Jim Patterson, otherwise known as 'Sparky'."

_________

"Minerva!"

The Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress looked up in surprise, then put down her quill and hurried over to the fireplace in her office. She didn't even have to look to know the identity of the caller. The "Min-NOI-va!" pronunciation gave it away in an instant.

"Abigail Penstone!" she greeted, gracing the calling witch with a warm smile. "What brings you to my Floo?"

"Well, I wanted to see how you were holding up, and I had a little registration matter that I need your advice on," the little blonde replied, studying her friend with concerned blue eyes. She was a Bronx-raised witch who was currently Head Registrar at the Salem Witches' Institute.

"How can I help, Abby?" she asked curiously, wondering what the matter was.

"Well I was just going over my list of potential Muggle invitees for the next couple of years. One of them moved recently, and will be living in London for a time. I was going to send the standard letter outlining the educational opportunities here in the States, but I thought I might include Hogwarts as a possibility if you don't mind. Her parents might be more agreeable to the idea if she attended school locally."

Minerva shrugged. "I can speak with Albus if you like, but I see no problem with that."

"Fine. I didn't think you'd mind, but I didn't want to assume," Abigail smiled. "Maybe we can arrange to send out a joint welcoming committee-bring out the big guns. Rumor has it that this family may be tough to convince."

"Really?" McGonagall asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep. We approached the family of one of the parents back when they came of age and were turned down flat."

The Deputy Headmistress frowned lightly, considering this. While not unheard of, it was uncommon for Muggle parents to refuse magical training for their children. As a rule, they were usually rather taken with the idea, and enormously relieved that the oddities they'd been trying to rationalize away had an explanation.

Of course, for every rule there was an exception. Occasionally magical educators ran across parents-and children for that matter-who had to be convinced. In these cases, the children generally had fewer magical "accidents" for a variety of reasons. Some were late bloomers, others were rather weak magically, and still others had an intrinsic degree of control. The worst-case scenario by far was when a child had been traumatized somehow. They were the ones who instinctively shied away from magic as a result, burying it deep in their psyches, often with the memory that caused the fear.

In any case, parents who had observed no strange events or behaviors were naturally more difficult to convince than the poor souls who were sometimes literally beside themselves with bewildered confusion and helpless frustration.

"I have the information here," Abby said, flipping rapidly through a file and interrupting the Deputy Headmistress' musings. "The record cites health concerns as the main issue for refusal. The parents were uncomfortable about sending their child so far away, especially since it didn't seem necessary. Even the satellite school in their region was too far away for their liking. We might have to deal with a similar attitude now that they have magical children of their own, especially if the condition was hereditary."

"A joint effort might be best, then," Minerva agreed. "Hogwarts is primarily a boarding school, but arrangements have been made in the past for children with special needs. We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Sounds like a plan, Minnie. Thanks."

"Anytime, Abby-oh, wait! Speaking of Muggleborn students, you might be interested in these. I just got them back from the printer," Minerva said, hurrying back to her desk and grabbing one of the new 'Muggleborn Guides.' "Take a look, you might find it good enough to modify for your own program," she said, handing the booklet into the fire with a pair of fireplace tongs.

"Really? Better than the last one, I hope," Abigail teased, accepting the booklet, and laughing at the pointed look McGonagall gave her. "Oh, lighten up, Minnie I was only kidding. I'll be in touch about my wayward student, and thanks again."

"I look forward to it," McGonagall said, nodding as Abigail winked out.

__________.

Harry Potter sat at the Wright's kitchen table and regarded the family with equal parts amusement, fondness, and confusion.

Something's...up, he thought, as he glanced discreetly around the breakfast table. Well, maybe not "up" but there's a definite difference this morning, he went on, regarding the adults in particular. It wasn't anything huge or obvious, more of a subtle shift in mood, really, but it was there all the same.

Whatever it was.

Munching thoughtfully on a bite of bacon, Harry considered this odd new circumstance. At first he'd simply dismissed the change, blaming it on the excitement surrounding Mr. Wri-no, Steve's arrival. Kitty and Becky were practically bubbling over, and admittedly, the presence of two parents instead of just one was having a slight effect on the household dynamics Harry was used to. That part didn't bother him. What did was the subtle undercurrent of...something he was picking up from Janet and Steve in particular. Frowning lightly, Harry tried to identify the sensation. Anxiety, maybe? Confusion? Concern?

Of course, it was altogether possible that nothing was amiss. Everyone was being as friendly as ever. Nobody was carrying on like he'd suddenly contracted the plague... No one else seemed bothered at all. Maybe everything was normal. Maybe it was just him. He was dealing with a little more than he was used to, after all.

Feeling a little better, Harry considered this new option. He'd picked up the knack of assessing the mood of others around him while he lived with the Dursleys, but even then he had to wonder if he would have noticed anything out of the ordinary this morning if Becky hadn't walloped him with the broom handle. He wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but when he'd been struck, his awareness had kicked in very suddenly and clearly.

The hypersensitivity was fading now, almost completely back to normal, but he was still picking up subtle nuances-like this slight tension-that completely contradicted the obvious atmosphere. Harry wasn't sure he would have noticed anything amiss under normal circumstances, and wasn't quite sure how to interpret this additional input. Unfortunately, he had just enough information to be bloody confused by it.

And speaking of bloody...

The young wizard made sure no one was looking in his direction then scrunched his nose experimentally. It was still a little tender, but his discomfort was fading fast. Thank goodness! Harry thought wryly. Perhaps if he was lucky, it wouldn't leave a noticeable mark. He'd be teased for days if Tom-or worse, Cassie-found out the tiny girl had very nearly bloodied his nose for him!

Still, it had been a close thing. Becky hadn't intended to hurt him, of course, but she'd landed a pretty solid blow all the same. Thanks to Dudley and his gang, Harry was intimately familiar with the telltale liquid feeling that typically heralded a nosebleed. At the time he'd been quite sure he could feel one coming on.

On balance, he decided his nose must have just been running a bit in response to his watering eyes. When he'd reflexively brought his hand up to pinch his nose shut, it hadn't been necessary.

Good thing, too, Harry mused. If Becky got that upset over a few tears, she probably wouldn't take the sight of blood very well at all.

********