By Monday, Harry was feeling 100% better. Plus, it was July 15, which meant his birthday was in only sixteen days, and this was the first time in his life he could ever remember looking forward to a birthday. Not only because he might be getting a party and presents, but because thanks to what Sirius had told him, he knew he would be getting his Hogwarts letter any day now.
Harry was teaching Sirius about the TV. It wasn't as easy as teaching him about the phone. Sirius had thought at first that they were photographs that moved, just like in the Wizarding world.
"No," said Harry. "We have moving pictures, too, but in the Muggle world they're called videos. You play videos on the TV."
Sirius still looked confused, but he didn't ask any more questions. They were watching a "situation comedy". It wasn't like the smarmy soap operas Aunt Petunia liked to watch while Uncle Vernon was at work and Dudley and Harry were at school—it was actually funny, even though Sirius found the laugh track annoying. The episode was about one of the main characters getting married and his friends were planning a bachelor party.
"I remember your dad's bachelor party," said Sirius. "Good times."
"What happened?" said Harry.
"I'll tell you when you're older," said Sirius, and Harry was about to protest this, but that was when the doorbell rang. It was Barbara, with more brownies, on her day off. Sirius invited her inside.
"Sirius says you fell in love with my great-grandmother's brownie recipe, so I brought you some more," she said cheerfully, although her hazel eyes were on Sirius, and Harry suspected the brownies were not the real reason she was visiting.
"Thank you," said Sirius, taking the Tupperware container, which was filled with about twenty brownies, and setting it on the coffee table. Harry grabbed one triangular brownie, licked the powdered sugar off the top, and shoved it into his mouth whole. It wasn't dry like the ones Mrs. Figg made him eat, and he had eaten three of them in about twenty seconds.
"I guess he wasn't lying, either," said Barbara, grinning. She was wearing a tight pink shirt, loose denim overalls, and tennis shoes, a far cry from her red skirtsuit and matching heels; her dark hair was styled into two French braids. She looked a lot younger than she had the Thursday before last. She walked over and gave Harry a tight hug.
The last woman who had ever hugged Harry was his mother, and he couldn't remember that, so this might as well have been the first. He caught a whiff of strong lavender perfume and strawberry-scented shampoo, and he was still coughing as she let go. Barbara asked him what grade he was going into.
"Sixth," said Harry, hoping Barbara thought he was coughing only because he was getting over the flu. From her look of poorly disguised surprise, he could tell she thought he was younger than that, so he asked, "How old are you?"
"I just turned twenty-four last February," she replied, smiling at him.
"Really," said Harry. "I could have sworn you were just out of high school."
"Thanks!" Barbara beamed. "I get that a lot."
Harry couldn't like Barbara, even though she liked him. Maybe it was just because he didn't really want to share Sirius with anybody right now. She was definitely too young to be his mother or his aunt, but probably too old to be his sister. Maybe he could just think of her as an older cousin, albeit one who was not much less annoying than Dudley.
"By the way, I picked up this little gift for you," said Sirius, reaching into his pocket. Harry knew it was charmed to hold much more than a regular pocket should hold. "It's nothing much, but I thought you might like it…"
"Goodness gracious!" Barbara shrieked, as Sirius clasped the necklace around her neck. "Are those real pearls? You didn't have to do this!"
"Oh, but I wanted to," said Sirius, and Harry frowned.
"By the way…" Barbara flopped down onto the couch. "Mr. Glacier says that he'll be able to set up a court date by the end of July. So you and Harry should be discussing Harry's plans to move in."
"That's great news," Sirius replied, looking at Harry, who nodded and smiled. Soon he would be living with Sirius.
Barbara sat down on the couch next to Sirius, and Harry sat down on Sirius's other side. As the TV droned on, Barbara leaned into Sirius, and he asked her what it was like working for Mr. Glacier.
"It's nice," said Barbara. "My mother doesn't approve, though. I don't think she thinks I can look after myself. She's always telling me I should just marry into money and start a family…But I keep telling her, if I do marry, I want it to be for love."
"I can understand that," said Sirius, smiling. Harry figured that if Barbara was saying this, Sirius hadn't told her he was rich. That was confusing, because he thought Sirius would have used this to impress her.
Barbara watched TV with them for a while, and then she cooked them a late lunch, which redeemed her a bit in Harry's eyes—she was a fantastic cook. She whipped up a heavenly meatloaf, of which Harry had three slices, as well as mouth-watering, lump-free mashed potatoes. For dessert, she baked them a chocolate cake from scratch, right down to the icing.
After lunch Barbara said she really must be going.
"I'll walk you to your car," Sirius offered. Barbara smiled, took her hand in his, and they walked out the front door.
Harry went back to the table to get another piece of cake. Sirius was taking a long time, though, so he went to go look out the window to see what he was doing. And…why was he surprised? Sirius was passionately snogging Barbara, gently pushing her back onto the hood of her red car. It seemed like forever until they finally stopped. Sirius held the car door open for Barbara, and Harry quickly darted away from the window.
Sirius walked in moments later, his eyes a little overbright. Harry pretended he hadn't seen anything.
"So, let me get this straight, Sirius," he said. "You haven't let on that you're rich?"
"I didn't think it was necessary to mention it." Sirius shrugged. "Besides…would she really believe me if I did tell her that? My flat is a right hole in the wall. We went to her place the Saturday before last, and of course she cooked us dinner…I didn't know you could cook a meal that delicious without magic. I offered to do the dishes—she couldn't figure out how I finished cleaning so fast. I was also able to Apparate to the bakery the next morning, to get us bagels for breakfast."
"So if you did marry her, would you be allowed to tell her you were a wizard?" Harry asked.
"Yes, as long as she didn't tell anyone," Sirius replied. "Usually we aren't allowed to let the Muggles know of our existence, but if you're married to one you're allowed to tell them your true identity. I would be allowed to hook up Barbara's fireplace to the Floo network, and I could practice magic in our household, as well as teach any children about our world—although our children wouldn't be allowed to tell their Muggle friends about their unusual father."
"If you had a baby, would it be a wizard baby?" asked Harry curiously.
"Probably," said Sirius. "If a Muggle has a child with someone who carries a magic gene, ninety percent of the time the child will inherit a normal, working magic gene and be classified as either a Muggle-born or a half-blood, depending on the magical parent's blood status. If not, the child will most likely be born a Muggle and that's that. The third thing that could happen is that the child will inherit the magic gene, but it won't work—that's what a Squib is, and that has nothing to do with one parent being a Muggle, anyway. Squibs are really rare, though. You only get about two or three of them every seven generations."
"So how do you know all this?" said Harry.
"Regulus and I had to learn Wizarding Geneology before we went to Hogwarts," Sirius explained. "I'm sure you know by now that my family placed a lot of emphasis on the purity of blood. It was a lot simpler for me—just marry a pureblood woman and have a pureblood baby. It isn't so different for women, either. Two of my cousins, Narcissa and Bellatrix, were married with dowries to two important Wizarding families, Malfoy and Lestrange, respectively. But the third, Andromeda, ran off with a Muggle-born named Ted Tonks. So they disowned her. She was a bit like Barbara, I suppose…she wanted to marry for love, not money, status or blood purity. Lucius and Rodolphus were both filthy rich, of course."
"Is everyone in the Wizarding world so hung up on this blood stuff?" Harry asked worriedly.
"Luckily, no," Sirius said calmly. "Those who do are just clinging onto a time that's long gone. If you meet someone like that, you should just ignore them. Old blood is counting for less everywhere. What matters is your magical ability, and your blood status doesn't make a difference at all. For example…Lily was a very powerful witch, and her parents were Muggles."
"But don't kids from Wizarding families like yours get a head start?"
"Not really," said Sirius. "Some magic is harder than others. You're not going to be conjuring stuff out of midair your first day of school, you know. Besides, no witch or wizard is allowed to buy a wand before their eleventh birthday. So even though we purebloods witness more magic growing up, that doesn't mean we'll be any better at it. And like I said, my parents mostly used Dark Magic in front of me and Regulus, so that didn't help us at school. Hogwarts doesn't teach Dark Magic, just regular, non-Dark subjects. They tell you everything you need in your school letter."
"I thought I would be getting mine by now, though," said Harry wistfully.
"Well, you can never predict exactly when—" Sirius was cut off when they heard a sharp tapping on the living room window. Harry was confused at what he saw, but Sirius's face broke into a wide grin. There, beating its wings to stay airborne, was a large barn owl, a heavy parchment-paper envelope tied to its leg.