Just as Harry opened his mouth, Mrs. Yardley called from another room in
the house. "Come on, kids! Lunchtime!"
Harry got up shakily from the wooden window seat in utter disbelief. How could it simply be possibly? Or was it just a coincidence? And the important part: should he tell his new foster sister that she was akin to one of his best friends?
Before he could make any decisions, Elsie, impatient with his slowness, grabbed his arm. "Come on! We have to wash hands before lunch. Mama's real strict about that."
After leaving the cramped bathroom that oddly had a theme of cats: a cat- shaped rug and toilet plunger, tacky towels printed with photos of kittens in flowerpots, and soap with the silhouette of a cat, arching its back, Elsie led Harry to the kitchen. The strange bathroom made Harry forget about the Hermione/Elsie connection for that time. Weren't cats afraid of water? His ponderings were interrupted by Mrs. Yardley's chatter.
"Do sit down, Harry! You don't expect to eat standing up, do you?"
"He might have done that in his old home, Mama," Elsie began. "Harry's told me about how badly they treated him. Imagine, he had to sleep in a cupboard! Under the stairs!" In a matter of a few minutes, Elsie had repeated Harry's life story to her mother.
"You poor boy, after all you've gone through, it's good you're here with us. It may not be exactly neat, but it's clean. And we'll treat you kindly."
"Do you know what will happen to me? How long will I stay here?"
"The man who brought you here - what was his name?"
"Mr. Wryer."
"Yes, Mr. Wryer, he should come back in a couple of weeks to check on you - how you're settling in and all... If all goes well, we might choose to adopt you."
"That would be nice. For what I know of you, you are very kind...both of you." Harry didn't really want to be adopted by them though. Let me out! His brain screamed. He was supposed to meet Cho...go to Hogwarts. How could he do any of that if he were adopted into a Muggle family? I need to escape, he thought. But when could he do it? And how? Would he climb out of a window when everyone else was asleep or what?
As much as he didn't want to admit it, Harry was starting to like life at the Yardley's house. Taking a sip of the hot soup Mrs. Yardley had made, he realized she was a lot better cook than Aunt Petunia. And of course, there was no crazy diet he had to follow here. The people weren't bad either. Mrs. Yardley seemed a warm, caring woman - closer to a mother then Aunt Petunia had ever been. Things couldn't get too boring with Elsie about, especially with that mystery about her parents...
Don't do this to yourself, Harry's mind chastised. Remember Cho. Think of Cho. Would you give up her for some Muggles who you barely know? And what about Hogwarts? How will you go? But the other side of Harry's mind battled with him. I have to find out if Elsie really is Hermione's sister! And if she is...what if she turns out to be a witch? This was too much. Harry's brain felt overwhelmed.
"May I please be excused?"
"You've only had two spoonfuls of soup!" Mrs. Yardley protested. "And after that there's roast chicken, and then ice-cream! Aren't you hungry?"
"I'm sorry to be rude, Mrs. Yardley. But I really do feel exhausted. I think I feel a headache coming on, too."
"Oh, all right. You may be excused. You can get your things unpacked and settled in. I'll save your lunch for later."
Feeling a bit guilty for the work she must have put into cooking it for him, he cringed. "I really do apologize."
"I understand. Now go and take a nap. You'll feel better, but be careful not to sleep through dinner."
Harry escaped to his new room, collapsing on the bed as he threw his glasses off. He was closing his eyes and almost felt sleep drifting him away, but then he noticed something that woke him up, made him sit right up with surprise. Through his window, he could see a familiar grinning face, waving to him. He was wearing Muggle clothes, but Harry still could recognize his Hogwarts classmate, Dean Thomas.
Harry got up shakily from the wooden window seat in utter disbelief. How could it simply be possibly? Or was it just a coincidence? And the important part: should he tell his new foster sister that she was akin to one of his best friends?
Before he could make any decisions, Elsie, impatient with his slowness, grabbed his arm. "Come on! We have to wash hands before lunch. Mama's real strict about that."
After leaving the cramped bathroom that oddly had a theme of cats: a cat- shaped rug and toilet plunger, tacky towels printed with photos of kittens in flowerpots, and soap with the silhouette of a cat, arching its back, Elsie led Harry to the kitchen. The strange bathroom made Harry forget about the Hermione/Elsie connection for that time. Weren't cats afraid of water? His ponderings were interrupted by Mrs. Yardley's chatter.
"Do sit down, Harry! You don't expect to eat standing up, do you?"
"He might have done that in his old home, Mama," Elsie began. "Harry's told me about how badly they treated him. Imagine, he had to sleep in a cupboard! Under the stairs!" In a matter of a few minutes, Elsie had repeated Harry's life story to her mother.
"You poor boy, after all you've gone through, it's good you're here with us. It may not be exactly neat, but it's clean. And we'll treat you kindly."
"Do you know what will happen to me? How long will I stay here?"
"The man who brought you here - what was his name?"
"Mr. Wryer."
"Yes, Mr. Wryer, he should come back in a couple of weeks to check on you - how you're settling in and all... If all goes well, we might choose to adopt you."
"That would be nice. For what I know of you, you are very kind...both of you." Harry didn't really want to be adopted by them though. Let me out! His brain screamed. He was supposed to meet Cho...go to Hogwarts. How could he do any of that if he were adopted into a Muggle family? I need to escape, he thought. But when could he do it? And how? Would he climb out of a window when everyone else was asleep or what?
As much as he didn't want to admit it, Harry was starting to like life at the Yardley's house. Taking a sip of the hot soup Mrs. Yardley had made, he realized she was a lot better cook than Aunt Petunia. And of course, there was no crazy diet he had to follow here. The people weren't bad either. Mrs. Yardley seemed a warm, caring woman - closer to a mother then Aunt Petunia had ever been. Things couldn't get too boring with Elsie about, especially with that mystery about her parents...
Don't do this to yourself, Harry's mind chastised. Remember Cho. Think of Cho. Would you give up her for some Muggles who you barely know? And what about Hogwarts? How will you go? But the other side of Harry's mind battled with him. I have to find out if Elsie really is Hermione's sister! And if she is...what if she turns out to be a witch? This was too much. Harry's brain felt overwhelmed.
"May I please be excused?"
"You've only had two spoonfuls of soup!" Mrs. Yardley protested. "And after that there's roast chicken, and then ice-cream! Aren't you hungry?"
"I'm sorry to be rude, Mrs. Yardley. But I really do feel exhausted. I think I feel a headache coming on, too."
"Oh, all right. You may be excused. You can get your things unpacked and settled in. I'll save your lunch for later."
Feeling a bit guilty for the work she must have put into cooking it for him, he cringed. "I really do apologize."
"I understand. Now go and take a nap. You'll feel better, but be careful not to sleep through dinner."
Harry escaped to his new room, collapsing on the bed as he threw his glasses off. He was closing his eyes and almost felt sleep drifting him away, but then he noticed something that woke him up, made him sit right up with surprise. Through his window, he could see a familiar grinning face, waving to him. He was wearing Muggle clothes, but Harry still could recognize his Hogwarts classmate, Dean Thomas.