I think we all know that I don't own Harry Potter.

For clarification, jelly shot = jelly in a little shot cup, not actual alcoholic jelly, in shot cups.

Edited 07/07/17

Chapter 4: Weird Things Happen Around Jelly

"Jewwy!Jewwyjewwyjewwy!" a little voice cried.

Janelle raised a brow at the little black-haired leech hanging off her leg. Harry's small arms were wrapped around her calves as tightly as he could hold them, his chin resting upon her knee as he looked up at her imploringly, eyes widened. His cheeks were flushed red, and the scar on his forehead flashed against his tanning skin.

"Jelly," Janelle corrected, pouring the hot green, sugary liquid into tiny shot cups. "and not yet, we need to let them cool down in the fridge first."

Harry frowned. She knew he didn't understand all of what she'd said, he'd just gotten the basic idea like usual. The basic idea this time being 'later'. "Jewwy now."

Janelle gave him a bemused smile before awkwardly making her way to the fridge nearby, the tray full of jelly shots in her hands. It wasn't particularly hard, but Janelle fancied that it'd be much easier if Harry wasn't hanging off her like a coat. She didn't want to accidentally spill the liquid before they even got a chance to solidify again. She cast a sad look in the direction of the kitchen bin, where a pink soaked piece of baking parchment was scrunched inside.

Janelle was starting to get a little tired of all this green food.

At least they weren't vegetables, she mused.

"How wonger?" Harry asked, bringing her from her depression with his adorable face. She unlatched his arms and pulled him into her chest, cleaning up the counter as she did so before entering the hallway and then the living room.

"Few hours maybe, we'll just have to play with the blocks, yeah?"

Harry let out a put-out sigh, that left her shaking her head, lips upturned.

The living room was a right mess; an indoor metal clothes line stand was in the far corner, doing its job in slowly drying out Janelle's collection of short frilly and long layered skirts; the couches were pushed off to the sides so that there was more room in the centre, cushions, pillows and small blankets were strewn all over the place and there were two oddly placed stools, the remnants of a cubbyhouse that was ordered to be taken down by the vicious Gwen Bannister, Queen of No Fun and Raining on Parades.

The beige carpet floor was littered with toys; some old and new stuffed animals lay on their backs or on the couches, multi-coloured medium-sized wooden bock pyramids sat next to the racing track mat, where toy cars lay mid-race. The telly was on, playing the rock music channel softly.

Janelle moved to the very centre of the room, promptly sitting on the floor, legs crossed, and let Harry down. He wobbled on his legs a bit, arms waving around as Janelle held his torso before she slowly let him go, letting him get used to suddenly standing up without support. She watched amused as he toddled his way over to the pile of building blocks, one of the first few toys she had introduced him to.

As she watched him play, her mind churned. Harry was a little... weird. Is that the right word for it? It's not that he was retarded or anything, or that he was creepy and did freaky things, like having an odd fixation on violence and car crashes and the death of many of her old barbies like that one seven-year-old a few houses down had, it was more like things just... happened, when he was around.

Janelle was pretty sure that the wooden building blocks Harry was currently creating a tower with were beige. Or, they had been beige. A nice, soft brown that was explicitly the colour of wood. Now some of them were emerald green, buttercup yellow, and baby blue. If Janelle thought hard, she would distinctly remember turning around to tune the radio because it had gone static again, and in doing so clumsily knocked over the tower a slightly younger Harry had proudly built, all because her dry and tanned legs were growing and she hadn't yet gotten used to being tall. In fact, she was still kind of having a bit of a growth spurt right now and had become generally clumsy and uncoordinated all around. Harry had thus let out a shrill scream, and so startled she ended up kicking whatever had remained of the tower down on reflex.

Janelle wasn't entirely sure how he had calmed down so quickly, because right after she fell onto her bottom he was suddenly happy and laughing and acting like nothing had happened at all, attention short and distracted once again by the building blocks. The newly coloured building blocks. She was dumbfounded, left to stare incredulously as Harry set to remake his tower.

There had been many other accidents and strange instances, like that one-time Mrs. Dursley had asked Janelle if she could cut his hair as it was getting awfully. The blond woman was always trying to gently push her responsibilities onto Janelle. She still did it, of course, because if Mrs. Dursley couldn't bring herself up to caring for Harry than Janelle surely would, but there seemed no point anymore when after the first few times Janelle tried cutting his hair to a respectable style it was always grew back the very next day.

Touching his ears, the nape of his neck, in an unruly, sticking up in random places style that it had been before she cut it.

Janelle rubbed her head, watching as he made car noises as he drove faded painted toy cars around his legs. It wasn't a bad look, she supposed, if anything it endeared him to her even more. They'd just have to figure out a way to cut his hair in the future.

Sighing, Janelle hopped back onto her feet, walking on the tips of her toes around the living room until she found her school bag. If there was one good thing about babysitting, it was how it helped her focus on doing her homework. Watching toddlers and little children do nonsense did tend to get boring at times, but she couldn't just leave them on their own without supervision to do whatever she wanted. Because what was the point of babysitting them then if she did that? Janelle could easily divide her attention between watching Harry and doing homework, and there really wasn't much else you could do when babysitting besides watching telly, but that got boring fast. With one last glance at the enclosure she'd strategically built around Harry and herself, and then one at Harry who was now preoccupied with singing (badly) along to the rock star on the telly, she sat before the low coffee table and immersed herself in her science homework.

A few hours and a delicious dinner later, all her set homework finished, fed Harry his dinner that Mrs. Dursley had at least provided, the Jelly shots were ready.

Harry squeaked in his throat. "Jewwy." he whispered solemnly, eyes glued to the fridge.

Janelle met his eyes with the same amount of solemnity. "Yes." she whispered.

Harry covered his mouth and nose excitedly.

She pulled out the tray of jelly shots, sliding all the tiny little cups onto the counter. With the tray in the sink she grabbed two small spoons and some strawberries, hoping to at least get something healthy into his tiny body.

She turned around. "Okay, since there's roughly around twenty-two we both get–"

Harry was midway eating his third cup, his tiny fingers glistening with globs of green jelly. Something clacked on the ground. A shot cups. He'd just gotten right into it.

Janelle stared. Her forehead crinkled. "Oy, use some manners, yeah?"

Harry just let out a refreshed sigh, slamming the shot cup on to the counter, and puckered his lips.