Sorry in advance. This is not my best chapter. Probably later on, I'll go back and edit it more to my liking. Hopefully, I'm just focusing on something small, so I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Random person: Hey, can I buy the rights to Harry Potter?

Me: I don't own the rights.

RP: How about to Disney, or "Just the Way You Are" by Bruno Mars?

Me: Neither are mine!

RP: But they're both in the story!

Me: And the story is not for profit! I own nothing!

Chapter Five

"Who's in the house tonight!" Mrs. Higgindobbins called.

"Sherry!"

"Chase!"

"Alex!"

"Mandy!"

"Your husband! Oh, and Brandon will be in later, he got held up at work!"

"Okay! Hey, I've got Harry with me! He'll be staying for dinner! Alex, are you staying for dinner?"

"No! I'll probably be leaving soon!"

Harry stared at the woman. They had just walked into a modern, two story house. As soon as Mrs. Higgindobbins called, several voices answered. The yelled conversation made Harry relook at Mrs. Higgindobbins's character. While explaining things at her work, she was professional and almost soft-spoken. Harry just learned she somewhat let loose while at home. He was not prepared for that.

On the bus ride here, he offered to help Mrs. Higgindobbins with dinner. She had laughed. "Today is my husband's day to cook. He didn't have to go to work today. More than likely, he'll already have everything done when we get home. He hates eating late."

That was also a new concept. Harry was used to only one person having the responsibility of cooking, not a shared responsibility. When he wasn't cooking for the Dursleys, Aunt Petunia always did so. Uncle Vernon could burn water, he was such a horrible cook. At the Weasleys, Mrs. Weasley was the only one allowed in the kitchen while Arthur had to work until late. At Hogwarts, house elves oversaw food preparation.

When Harry asked why they didn't use a magical mode of transportation, Mrs. Higgindobbins had to explain that American wizards hated floo travel, and she was not a travel magician. When asked what that meant, she said it was the ways Americans classified magic. Wild, wide-based, and precision-based were descriptions of the magic's natural state and how it works. Charms were split into household spells and other purposes, Transfiguration and Potions were similar to how he knew them, and DADA was split into combative and defensive magics. Harry knew he was out of his element since he was introduced to magical America, but he never realized how different the cultures were. Mrs. Higgindobbins smiled sympathetically at him, and told him he would learn with time. At least his relatives weren't sent to Mexico, where the language barrier would have made things even more difficult to understand.

Harry had never felt the need to study. During primary school, Harry couldn't study for the fear of doing better than Dudley. In Hogwarts, Harry found that theory never made sense or didn't help him with the actual casting. Magic was easy once he got the hang of it, and he got good grades in that category, but he constantly got failing grades on his papers.

Now, with this new world laid out to him, he just wanted to know everything. This world already gave him a gift he'd never be able to repay: communication with his magic.

Back in the household, there was a smattering of footsteps down the stairs. Harry swore he heard curses being traded, but Mrs. Higgindobbins looked like this was normal.

He heard a "Harry!" and felt himself being picked up and squeezed.

"Jeez, Alex, you saw Harry earlier today."

"I know, but isn't he just so precious?" Harry would have been indignant, but he had learned quickly that day that Alex only acted this way with those she considered close to her. His magic flickered under his consciousness, letting him know that Alex's magic was cocooning it in a similar manner. Harry didn't even know magic could hug!

Alex released him. He saw several people behind her. Sherry was staring at her friend with fondness. There were two others next to her. One a girl older than Sherry herself, and a boy who looked like he may be Harry's age. The girl had caramel hair and amber eyes. She had an athletic air to her. The boy shared Sherry's dark hair, and his blue eyes pierced behind his bangs. He looked like he was bored with everything around him. This must be Sherry's brother her mother was telling him about.

"Hello," he tried the polite route.

"Hi," the girl said, "you must be Harry. My name's Mandy."

The other boy looked to Harry. "Chase."

Before the conversation could continue, Mrs. Higgindobbins ushered them to the dining room. "Harry, this is my husband."

The gulp in response made complete sense to Harry.

The man's bulging muscles were bigger than his head! He had a buzz cut, the little hair being salt and pepper. He was well over six feet tall; most of that height, from what Harry could see, was covered in tattoos. He exuded strength, something Harry knew Uncle Vernon would kill for. Uncle Vernon was a bully like his son; this man was a warrior.

The man smiled. "Hello, Harry. It's nice to meet you. Alex has already told us so much about you. Girl doesn't know when to shut up." He smiled teasingly to the girl in question with a small wink sent her way when he heard a scoff.

A kind warrior, Harry corrected.

Harry quickly adjusted to the easy feel of the family around him. They interacted randomly, yet they were all respectful to each other. They accepted him, and he found himself… almost at home. Chase was even more soft-spoken than his mother. Mandy, Harry found, was adopted. Biologically, she was cousin to Sherry, Chase, and the yet-to-arrive Brandon on their mother's side. Her parents were in an accident when she was little, and this family was the only one she knew. Unlike Harry and his "family," she was welcomed with open arms. Mr. Higgindobbins was actually a muggle, but his brother was a wizard. His brother actually introduced the two adults. Mr. Higgindobbins worked as a personal trainer, and Mandy worked as a broomstick gymnast. "Why don't I show you the ropes sometime?" she had offered. Brandon, who still hadn't arrived, was a magical tattoo artist.

Unlike the Weasley family, which was chaos and noise, the Higgindobbins were mostly a soft-spoken bunch. They didn't like chaos, although already Harry had seen two lively debates in the thirty minutes he had been there. They were all snarky, and gave as good as they got. Even the adults got in on the action. While Harry liked the Weasley family, he found he fit in better with the Higgindobbins.

Alex left halfway through, saying her mom would worry if she didn't leave soon. She pranced over to Harry, only to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek with a giggled "See you tomorrow." He knew she was playing with him, but Harry couldn't help the heat spreading over his face.

Surprisingly, Harry got along best with Chase. Although the other boy didn't speak much, what he did say was meaningful. Chase didn't know what he wanted to do, but he wanted to try healing magics or maybe music. He 'heard' magic, although his sensing was different than other audio-sensors. Most heard magic in pitches, Chase heard magic as actual music. Rock, classical, pop, he heard them all, he just didn't hear lyrics, so rap was out. When asked, he said Harry's magic was like a percussion solo. He would also be learning how to be a spiritualist with Harry. Harry felt himself and his magic calm around the boy.

Ever since Harry first opened himself to his magic, his magic always kept a running commentary to him. It wasn't distracting. It was calming, if Harry was honest. However, his magic was hyperactive, and it was almost like an overactive puppy, playing with whatever magic it touched. When it touched Chase's, though, it relaxed. Harry liked it as it was, but he couldn't complain with the new sensation.

The door opened. In walked a dark haired nineteen-year-old. Harry would guess this was Brandon.

His build was like his father's, although he wasn't as muscle heavy, and he seemed to have even more tattoos than his father. Brandon shared Chase and their father's striking blue eyes. He held a plastic grocery bag in his hand, which when Mr. Higgindobbins saw he groaned, "Seriously?"

Mrs. Higgindobbins looked suspiciously at her husband, "What?"

"Well, dear," he might have been muscle bound, but Harry now knew who wore the pants in their relationship, "we didn't have anything to make with the chicken except for alfredo ingredients. The only issue was, we didn't have that much, so I also…maybe made… mac-n-cheese?"

"So, you're telling me, you made two pasta dishes? Why didn't you just make mac-n-cheese, then?"

Mr. Higgindobbins deer-in-the-headlights look was spot-on. "I-I don't- "

"Oh, never mind. You weren't thinking, like usual."

"Hey! You said we had chicken! I learned a long time ago that meant you wanted chicken!"

"No! That means I only knew that we had chicken!"

The children all rolled their eyes. It seemed this was normal. Harry thought it was funny.

"Okay, children, grab what you want!"

With that call, everyone went to the kitchen. Unlike in England, where people set the table before putting the food on the table, this was a buffet style, kinda. The Higgindobbins family was grabbing utensils straight from the drawers and the bowls from the cupboards. When they set those in their place, Harry hearing a "Hey, you got to sit on the corner last time!" along the way, the kids went into another cupboard that had the cups. Sherry poured water from a filter, Brandon reached in the refrigerator for a jug of tea, Chase reached in the cupboard for a can of root bear (to the calls of "Gross!" and "Why do I have a brother that likes warm soda?"). The adults waited for the craziness to calm down before they went in. Never mind, these people were much crazier than the Weasleys!

Harry decided to just get water to drink, along with mac-n-cheese to eat. He wouldn't tell anyone, but this was his first time eating this particular dish.

They were all seated around the table. Most of the food had been eaten, and Mr. Higgindobbins, who got back up for seconds and thirds ("What can I say, Honey? I'm an excellent cook!"), was rubbing his stomach contentedly. There had been minimal conversation while they ate. Now, everyone was curious.

"So, Harry," Mr. Higgindobbins started, "how have you liked America so far?"

"I've enjoyed my time here."

"Hey, Harry," Brandon interrupted, "have you ever seen a magical tattoo?"

"No."

"Brandon, you better not be trying to get Harry to buy anything," Mrs. Higgindobbins warned.

"Mom, relax. I'm just curious. So, I'm gonna guess you don't know the different types you can get, right?"

"Correct," Harry was curious. Maybe he could get his own tattoo?

"Well, there's 'manipulative,' that's where the ink can shift into something else. I knew a mute who got a line of ink, which she manipulated into words so others could understand her. Then there's 'personality.' If you've seen the Disney movie Moana, it's like that. The tattoo, when magic is applied, has a personality that can actually interact with a person. I actually have one of those, Candy?" A fox head popped out from under his shirt collar. "Then, there's the common ritual tattoos. They're normally runes, and they help redirect magic in certain ways. They're popular for wide-based magicians like you. They make it to where you don't have to worry about a focus, and the magic actually likes being projected through them."

Harry was interested. Tattoos that could help him cast magic?

"What he's not telling you," Sherry sounded resigned, "is that magical tattoos are illegal to get without a medical condition before your magic finishes growing."

"Ah, you're no fun. Besides, I could always give him a nonmagical one that could be charmed later."

"Brandon?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Harry laughed. The by-play between these two was hilarious.

"Hey, Harry," Mandy was next to talk to him, "how would you like to see our spirit animals?"

"Sure."

Mandy whooped. Harry thought he heard Chase mutter, "Show-off," but he got up along with the rest of the family.

Harry followed them through the house to an indoor greenhouse. There was a large clearing in the center. Harry knew the house wasn't logically big enough for this. He also knew that magic was awesome.

"First, you'll see our nonmagical forms," Sherry told him.

He stood next to Chase and Mr. Higgindobbins. First to change was Mandy. Not surprising, she seemed the most excited to change. She turned into a large, fox/wolf hybrid looking creature with almost too-long legs for its body. Next was Mrs. Higgindobbins. She turned into a silver fox with harsh red eyes. Sherry turned into a black and white fox, and Brandon turned into a black, white, and red fox.

Mr. Higgindobbins told him what exactly they were. "Mandy's a maned wolf. It's not an actual wolf or a fox, but it definitely looks like one, eh? My wife's a silver fox, Sherry's a marble fox, and Brandon's a red marble fox. Hey guys," he turned his attention to the playing foxes, "you can turn into your magical forms, now."

All, excluding Mandy, grew in height. The grey of Mrs. Higgindobbins's fur became a light silver. She was the tallest of them all. Other than that, their colors stayed the same. The major difference? Each gained at least one extra tail. Mandy and Sherry had two tails, Brandon had three, and Mrs. Higgindobbins had six. Kitsunes! They were all kitsunes! Harry was in awe. According to The Monster Book of Monsters, kitsunes were extremely rare, and only found in Asia.

Chase explained, "You might think we should be an Asian family for this form, but magic doesn't care where the form originates, it just has to match close enough. It's rare for a family to all have even similar forms, but we've found we don't do normal."

"Sounds like my kind of family." It slipped out, but Harry was serious. Normal wasn't even possible in his life.

The kitsunes were wrestling, with momma kitsune keeping watch. Now her magic calling him 'kit' made sense. His magic leaped up, and he could feel it jump into the fray. Mandy-kitsune played with it, nipping and jumping. Chase and his mother stared at Harry.

"What?"

"Magic normally doesn't come to the mortal plane like that. It plays in the magical plane, but it doesn't like bothering with the actual people."

"Is it bad?"

"I don't think so, it's actually pretty cool."

Mr. Higgindobbins turned to him, "You'll find that American magicals enjoy trying and seeing new things. From what I understand, English wizards have more firm-set rules. Around here, few magics are illegal or considered truly evil."

Harry looked at him. What did he mean?

"Dorothy was telling me about how you survived that curse. I think all of my children had school projects trying to figure out how you did it. The curse is actually commonly used in healing around here."

"Wh-what?"

"The curse doesn't actually hurt the victim, right? I know they use it for humane deaths. Necromancy is common, as America has several ghosts and ghouls that have previously gone through Satanic rituals, which nonmagicals can easily do. What else… Torture magic is used for paralyzed victims. Everything has a chance for positive uses just as much as negative, so rules are based on the effects of magic rather than what you're using. At least, that's how my wife explained it."

All those magics he listed were against the law to cast in Britain. Harry liked the idea, though. Magic that harm can also help.

Harry sat in his hotel room in contemplation, magic dancing around him. Finally, he turned inward, focused more on his magic.

What do you think about this? Magic being used differently than we realized.

…Harry. I'm magic. I knew that. I just couldn't tell you. Are you mad?

If there was one thing Harry knew, it was that he would never blame his magic. What do you think? You know I just found you. Why would I be mad?

You're a moody human, I've found.

What?!

Laughter. Don't worry, I'll be the happy happy happy one of us two! It started singing. Because you're amazing. Just the way you are!

Okay, okay, Harry laughed. …Thank you. The for staying with me went unsaid and unneeded. His magic was connected with him. Technically, he didn't need to have this conversation with his magic. They knew everything about each other, and they were, in a way, one and the same. But they were also two. The paradox made Harry's head spin. He needed this conversation, though, for his sake of mind.

Harry, his magic laughed, if you're talking to yourself, aren't you considered crazy?

Shut up. Although Harry would never mean it.

Thanks for all the positive feedback, guys! Congrats to geekymom and Nocte Furorem for getting it correct. Not just Mrs. Higgindobbins is a kitsune, though, everyone in her family is (excluding Chase, of course)!

The maned wolf is a real animal. It's indigenous to South America, and it's a marsupial. Google it if you don't believe me. I like these animals, though, and I thought it would work with the parameters I already set.

Now, you know everyone has a magical and nonmagical animagus (Do you know how many times I tried to put that instead of spiritualasis! Put it on myself...), and you (hopefully) can guess what Harry's magical form is. Now, here's the chapter's big question. What do you think his nonmagical form is? And be specific! If you just say 'dog' or 'wolf' or something, you won't get counted! You have to say something like 'grey wolf' or 'labrador.' Hint: it's not commonly known.

If anyone has any suggestions for improvement or ideas (even if I can't use it), feel free to share them with me!

Review, follow, favorite, whatever suits your fancy! And if you haven't, and you like my writing style (for some reason), check out my other full-fledged story: Children Are Beautiful Creatures!