Chapter 16

Meeting the Robinsons

At 5:30 that evening, Harry tried one more time to force his black hair to lie down. He was used to its constantly untidy appearance but was a little nervous about meeting Cassie's parents looking like he had never even heard of the word "comb." There was no help for it, though. It was just going to have to look like this. He stepped out of the door and hurried down the steps, hearing the house collapse behind him with a small pop. He started walking toward Cassie's house and thought back over the events of what had turned into a fairly busy day.

He had heard from Dumbledore through Sir Lionel by 10 a.m., responding to his note from the night before. Harry couldn't believe the note had gotten all the way to Hogwarts in that amount of time by owl post, but Sir Lionel had called to him from his frame before Harry had even dragged up enough energy to get into the shower. Dumbledore had assured Harry that things were going just as he had expected. The explosion had been at a small building belonging to the Ministry of Magic that was separate from the main set of offices which were located (as Harry knew well) in downtown London. Everyone knew Voldemort had been behind the explosion and most people, Sir Lionel had confirmed, believed that it had been at attempt to let the Ministry leadership know it was not untouchable. Harry could imagine that Fudge had gotten the message loud and clear. As for the pain starting again in his scar, Dumbledore had been quick to reassure Harry he was absolutely right.

Voldemort had apparently taken a bit of a "holiday" after Harry's supposed death. No one was sure why. Dumbledore explained his personal belief was that Voldemort had been very suspicious and had gone into hiding until he had felt more confident that Harry was really gone. Now, though, he seemed to be very confident that this particular thorn in his side named Potter had been removed and he was becoming active again in celebration. The Death Eaters seemed to be moving more freely now and some wizards who had been fence-sitters were joining the Dark side, assuming that now Harry was dead, it was just a matter of time before Voldemort once again would control everything in the wizarding world. Harry was not as calm about this bit of news as Dumbledore seemed to be. Sir Lionel's final words, however, had made Harry feel a little bit better. "Harry, I am very pleased with how things are going. I just want to tell you to keep up the good work Don't do anything differently than you are doing now."

Harry knew, of course, that Dumbledore was not telling him to keep seeing Cassie, but he took encouragement from the statement that he was doing all right. He decided that as long as he was as careful in the future when he was out of the house with her as he had been up to this point, he was not taking too many unnecessary risks.

Harry stopped and took a deep breath. He had arrived at his destination. He straightened his collar and out of habit double-checked that his bangs were adequately covering his scar. He supposed that it did not matter whether they saw it or not as Cassie knew it was there and may have even already told her parents about it. He rang the doorbell. He hoped that he would not embarrass himself tonight. He would undoubtedly have to carry on some conversation and he hoped he would not trip over his own words or get himself into trouble. He had tried to think about what sort of questions Cassie's parents might ask him and had even tried out a few answers, staring into the mirror above the bathroom sink and trying to look very sincere. He had felt like he had failed miserably, but there was nothing he could do about it. He could not confess to being a wizard which meant that almost everything else he was going to tell them tonight was going to be a lie. The door opened and he looked into Cassie's face. She was smiling her incredible smile and Harry knew that any risks he had to take were well worth it.

"I'm so glad you're here, Harry." She stepped closer to him, and he reached for her hand. He desperately wanted to hug her again but decided that with her parents right inside the house it might be getting dinner off to a bad start. She looked him up and down as they stood there. "I like those clothes. I've never seen you in anything but jeans." Harry felt suddenly very self-conscious. He had shopped for a new outfit that afternoon, figuring that a dinner invitation would require a more dressy ensemble than he had needed up to this point. He had gotten some dark gray dress pants and an emerald green and cream subtly-striped short-sleeved collared shirt. The salesgirl had assured him that he looked very nice in it, that it brought out the green of his eyes. She had been quite forward with him, actually, and Harry had blushed frantically several times as she kept insisting on touching him in ways that Harry found disconcerting. He had been working very hard to keep his wand concealed but if she kept putting her hands on him, she was bound to feel it and somehow Harry did not think she would be satisfied the vague "good luck charm" explanation he had managed with Cassie.

Back at the apartment that afternoon, Harry had thought over what the salesgirl had said and done. He had never considered himself particularly good looking and was pretty sure most girls of his acquaintance agreed with his assessment. They often laughed and teased with him but he was hardly fending off love-struck girls with a stick. However, he recalled, people who had known his father often talked about how popular he had been when he was Harry's age. They also said that Harry looked just like him except for his eyes. Harry had therefore come to the conclusion, after considering this line of thinking, that he must be fairly acceptable looking. That thought had made him blush and pace around the apartment for a while, full of energy that he could not expend.

So, with Cassie here and his feelings of confidence greatly increased today, he smiled down at her and bent low to whisper next to her ear, something he normally would never have been brave enough to do. "I'm glad you like them. You look pretty fantastic yourself." She was wearing some sort of shimmery red sun dress that fitted her slender curves nicely down to her waist, after which it dropped into a swishy skirt that ended right below her knee. Her arms were bare and her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail which left her neck completely exposed and Harry had a crazy desire to touch the pulse that beat right above her collarbone; he only just managed to keep his hand under control. She was wearing flat sandals and Harry was reminded again just how much taller he was than she. The top of her head reached just to his ears and Harry knew from past experience that if he pulled her close enough, her cheek would fit perfectly against his shoulder. They both seemed unaware of the fact they were standing out on her front porch with her family watching through the windows and were instead just concentrating on each other.

After a moment or two, Harry felt a small body throw itself against his legs; he stumbled backward and the connection was broken. "Harry. Mum said I could sit next to you at dinner. I did good at swimming lessons today and Mom said I could if I behaved." Harry was surprised at John's enthusiasm about his presence. Yesterday afternoon, he had practically ignored Harry, concentrating instead on trying to talk his sister's ears off. But despite that, John's slender body was pressed up against Harry's legs, holding on to him like it was for dear life. He picked John up and carried the giggling boy into the house, following Cassie.

"Mum, Dad, I'd like you to meet Harry. Harry, these are my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Robinson. Of course, you met Mum yesterday." Harry held out his hand to her father. "Hello. I'm Harry Evans." He had practiced saying this new name over and over again today. He had decided his mother would be happy that he had reverted to using her maiden name for this foray into the Muggle world and he thought this sounded better than other possibilities. He had tried a variety, Black being his first choice; he had decided against this as it made him melancholy. He had also tried Weasley (too unusual), Granger (uh, no), Longbottom (he had laughed out loud), and Lupin (just sounded like a werewolf). He had finally settled on Evans and liked to think the warmth that filled his chest as he had practiced saying the name over and over again was his mother telling him that he was perfectly wonderful.

His hand was swallowed in a very large hand with a firm grip and Harry immediately felt comfortable with this man. He was as friendly and open as his wife had been yesterday, and they both seemed to feel that if Cassie liked Harry, than that was about as good a recommendation as he could get. Harry also met the other brother, Matthew. He was 11 and Harry was forcefully reminded of how small and scared the first years, also 11, always looked as they came into the Great Hall at Hogwarts for the sorting. Had he really been that young once? It seemed like an eternity ago. But Matthew was friendly and curious, seemingly anxious to get in a teasing remark or two about Cassie that he had prepared carefully in advance. In fact, he reminded Harry a great deal of the Weasley twins, except that there was only one of him. Probably safer that way.

Mrs. Robinson announced that dinner was ready right now and that they should sit down if they wanted it while it was hot and Harry was led into a very attractive dining room which seemed to have absorbed the warmth and friendliness of this family and enfolded Harry into welcoming arms. He had only felt this at home this quickly in one other house and it certainly wasn't the Dursley's stuffy surgically clean residence on Privet Drive. It was the Burrow, and the feeling of homecoming was so reminiscent of that first-ever step into the Weasley's kitchen that Harry would not have been at all surprised to see any of the red-headed Weasley clan bound in at a moment's notice and take a seat, waiting to be fed.