Chapter Three: Not So Different After All
Greg resisted the urge to play with his slice of pizza as Mrs. Potter fussed over his nipotes, mothering them as if it was second nature to her and urging them to 'eat up'. He was pretty sure he'd also heard her mutter something about the kids being too thin, a comment that made him squirm, even though he knew very well that the teenagers ate well. In fact, sometimes he wondered if his nephew ate too much, except Lance never put on additional weight, no matter how much he packed away.
Like now; the Sergeant snickered under his breath as Lance cheerfully demolished his fifth slice of Meat Lover's pizza. Harry, on his second slice, hastily pushed the last slice towards the teen; he'd already figured out that getting between Lance and meat was a losing proposition. Across from her brother, Alanna nibbled on a slice of Hawaiian pizza, relishing each tidbit of pineapple and munching her way through the ham.
Parker's attention shifted back to Mrs. Potter as she leaned closer to Alanna, murmuring something to the girl, her voice too low for Greg to hear her. But he could hear her tone: affectionate and motherly. His appetite fled once more and he returned to nudging his slice of pizza around the plate, trying to look like he'd eaten more than a quarter of his meal. Had he been wrong to fight so hard to keep his nipotes? Sure, they could go to Sophie or Shelley or even Jules, but that wasn't the same as having a mother. Or foster mother as the case may be.
He hadn't forgotten Silnok's pointed remarks about how he'd really been Arthur's best option, but still…was he really the best choice for the kids? Doubt wriggled into his stomach, twisting it into knots as the Sergeant watched the red-haired woman mother his nipotes. With Harry, they'd have a house, siblings, a family. All things he couldn't give them, not in a million years. And they'd be living magic-side with their own kind. Not stuck in a techie world they still didn't completely understand. No matter how much it hurt, he should do the right thing. For them.
Just as Greg was hitting a low point in his internal monologue, Mrs. Potter excused herself briefly to head for the restaurant's restroom. As soon as she was gone, Parker found himself bracketed by his nipotes, both of them looking inordinately relieved. Lance even nudged the final slice of Meat Lover's back in Harry's direction, right before he adjusted his position to 'casually' brush his arm against his uncle's. Alanna skipped subtlety to burrow under Greg's free arm, snuggling into his chest before he could even blink.
Choice. The negotiator's appetite came back as he remembered his kids had chosen him over Harry. He adjusted his position to eat with just one hand, leaving Alanna in her place against his chest, and returned his nephew's brilliant grin with one of his own. No, he couldn't give them what the Potters could, but they didn't care. Maybe those first few days they might've, but not anymore. For some reason, he was the one they wanted over the motherly Mrs. Potter and the rich, accomplished Lord Potter. Although Greg didn't entirely understand their reasons, he wasn't about to complain or protest.
Harry's expression was a touch wistful as he watched the three of them, but the wizard didn't say anything. Not even when his wife came back with a slightly pinched expression on her face at the sight of the Calvin teenagers practically curled around their uncle. As she watched the kids, Greg recognized the expression on her face. Jealousy. The negotiator throttled his budding indignation, though there was a corner of his mind that bristled. She had her own children so why was she begrudging him his nipotes?
Harry watched as Lancelot, quite deliberately, acted up just enough for a verbal reprimand. The teenager's cheeky grin gave him away…he'd misbehaved on purpose, just so the Potters could see his uncle's reaction. By Harry's side, Ginny sniffed disapprovingly, but Harry couldn't agree with her.
She thought the misbehavior meant Parker was an unfit guardian. That he couldn't control his charges or rear them properly. But to Harry, the misbehavior meant the exact opposite. Frankly, he had a sneaking suspicion that the teenagers had read him like an open book…somehow, they'd known that Harry was educated enough in child abuse to know that rebellions, large or small, usually meant the child – or teenager – in question felt comfortable enough to push the limits. Comfortable enough to see just how far they could push before they got in trouble. And Lancelot had stopped his mischief as soon as Parker reprimanded him; if the teenager had really been out of control, he would've kept misbehaving.
Parker shook his head in fond exasperation as Lancelot and Alanna slipped off to a small cluster of video games. "Teenagers," he sighed.
"Tell me about it," Harry commiserated. "Our three aren't quite old enough for that, thank Merlin."
"Believe me, they'll get there," the Muggle opined. "I'm just lucky that Sophie already volunteered to do The Talk with Alanna when she hits her next birthday."
Harry shuddered violently at the thought of doing The Talk with his little girl, casting a hopeful look at Ginny; she giggled at him before trailing after the teenagers, muttering something about keeping an eye on the 'children'. Both men watched her leave, a bit bemused. Then Harry arched a brow at Parker. "So. What do you lot do when you aren't being Aurors?"
Amusement flashed. Then Parker shrugged, so innocent that Harry tensed. "Oh, not much. Hostage crises, bomb calls, high risk warrants. You can never tell how a shift will go, even with preplanned warrants on tap."
Harry leaned in, fascinated. "So you're the Canadian equivalent of PT17 (1)?"
For a moment, Parker's expression was confused, then it cleared and he nodded once. "It's a bit more than that with us, but yes."
The wizard cocked his head to the side. "How is your unit different?"
Parker considered the bespectacled, messy-haired raven, then he started explaining the ins and outs of the Police Strategic Response Unit to the Auror.
For the first time ever, Harry was actually feeling comfortable around someone without magic. By the time Ginny and the two teenagers came back to the table, the wizard and the Squib-born were trading tips on investigating and catching criminals, after thoroughly exploring their observations and opinions on the differences between magical and non-magical crime, as well as the training cops received versus the training Aurors received.
The two men looked up simultaneously at Alanna's muffled giggle, prompting a brief snort from Lancelot and a tolerant, annoyed yet affectionate look from Ginny. "Having fun, dear?" Ginny teased.
Harry's expression turned a bit sheepish. "Time to go?"
Lancelot nodded as his uncle checked his watch and made a brief exclamation of surprise. "School tomorrow," he explained as Parker rose and started herding the group towards the door.
Outside, Harry and Ginny declined the offered ride back to their hotel, but Harry did pull Parker aside for one last question. When he fidgeted, Parker questioned, "Yes?"
The wizard shuffled his feet a few seconds more, then asked, "Why didn't you remove me as the Calvin Family proxy?"
The Squib-born studied him, then shook his head. "I'm not happy you tried to take mio nipotes away from me."
Harry's gaze fell to the ground, a slight flush rising.
"That said," Parker continued, "Arthur chose you as his Family's proxy. I'm not going to question my late cousin's judgment on that score; he wanted you and that's the way it's going to stay." One shoulder hiked in a shrug. "Besides, I have no idea who a good alternative would be."
Ginny would've been offended, but Harry, well aware that Parker still didn't completely trust him, refused to flinch or take offense. Instead, he looked up at the other man, firming his jaw. "I won't try to take them away again, Sergeant Parker. You have my word on that."
The stocky man's expression was skeptical, as if he would believe it when he saw it and not a moment before. But he didn't say anything more on the topic. Instead, he extended his hand and shook Harry's. "Safe trip home."
"And to you," Harry replied. He gathered up Ginny and the pair watched as Parker's car pulled out of the parking lot, heading back to the Squib-born's apartment. Ginny's expression was slightly bereft; Harry squeezed her shoulders. "Ginny?"
Ginny sniffled. "They're happy with him, Harry."
Harry nodded agreement. "You wanted him to be a monster, didn't you?"
"No!" After a few seconds, Ginny reconsidered. "Well, enough of one so we could get them back," she admitted. Silence hung between them, broken only by another sniffle. "But he's not."
"No, he's not," Harry whispered. "Ginny, I think… I think we have to trust that Arthur knew what he was doing when he picked Parker. He's a good man, Ginny. And they do have a family here, even if it's a bit odd."
"But who will Parker choose if it comes down to it?"
"Lancelot and Alanna." Harry's confidence rang. "It might rip him apart, but he'll put the kids first, always." He looked up at the night sky. "We can come back again sometime, Ginny."
Ginny leaned her head into Harry's chest. "Yes," she replied. "We'll come back."
As the couple made their way to the hotel they'd booked for the night, Harry asked, "So…how'd you like the pizza?"
~Fin
[1] Although Britain's SWAT currently carries the SCO19 designation, during the 1980s, when Harry was growing up, it was referred to as PT17. In 1991, the unit traded PT17 for SO19, but since Harry started Hogwarts that year, he still uses the older name.
