Reviewers:
Freja! Glad you like it so far. As to the fanfiction being "about the books," or "faithful to the books," there is a surprising amount of leeway. (Just look at the slash phenomenon.) You play music? Great! What's your instrument? As for the viola jokes, they seem to be a phenomenon in their own right. You can find lots of them here: http: www. petelevin. com / violajokes . htm. There are other sites, too. Just google "viola jokes."
A teaser. What's the difference between a violist and a seamstress? The seamstress tucks up the frills, and the violist … (if you don't get it, e-mail me.) You can also find such classics as, "What do you call two violists playing in unison? Counterpoint." Ouch! LOL
Speaking as a part-time violist, I must say that the viola is an incredibly beautiful instrument, it's an honor to play it, and the best "revenge" for these viola jokes, if you're into that sort of thing, is to play well.
Wicked, I'm so glad you like! Here's more! Thanks for reviewing!
Chib! You reviewed my other story, right? Thanks for checking this one out, too. I appreciate it.
Shiba! Thankees! I'm glad you're enjoying this. Many thanks for your support. :)
On with the show! :D (Sorry this took so long, everyone.)
Chapter Three: Adventures in Babysitting
Harry privately decided that wandering away from his class had been the best decision he'd ever made. It was fascinating watching the string quartet rehearse. He felt privileged to be so close to the action, while other people could only hear the music from across the lawn. Small crowds would gather to stare and point, and then walk away again.
He stared around at the instruments while the quartet played. He liked the big, deep tones of the cello. And the violins sounded sweet, if a little squeaky. But the instrument he liked best was the viola. Its notes sat solidly in the middle of everything, and there was just something about the way Jo played it that made him feel warm and cozy inside. And when the music got really good, he would dance, hopping from one foot to the other across the stone floor of the Temple, flailing his arms like a small bird, trying to stay upright and keep in rhythm.
Jo explained to him that they were going to run through all the music they had to play first, and then see what they had to fix. So Harry sat through some sad music by a man called Chai-Cough-Ski, a small, fast piece by an "our time" person whose name he didn't catch, a medium-speed "minute" dance by some man named Bay-Toe-Van, and the last part of a quartet by some mysterious bloke named Hide-In. The quartet had the name of some bird, and Jo told him the title at least twice, but he couldn't remember it. The music sounded like a bird, though. Lisa was playing her squeaky, sweet violin blindingly fast.
Harry danced around in time to the music, lost in his own little world, clapping his hands. When the quartet took a short break, he clambered into Jo's lap and she showed him what her music looked like. Harry scratched his head and tried to make sense of all the funny lines running every which-way, finally turning a page upside-down to see if that helped. Jo laughed.
The rehearsal finished up and the rest of the quartet handed money to Jim (Harry watched it change hands with interest), who, as promised, went off and brought back lunch for everyone. Jim handed food to Jo, and she in turn handed Harry a capped cup of milk, a tuna fish sandwich, and a Mars bar for dessert. Harry was just about to accept it, when he realized something awful. How foolish he'd been!
"Jo…" He licked his lips and felt his cheeks get hot. "Jo, I … I can't take this," he said softly.
"Why ever not?" she asked.
"Because," he said, still feeling very embarrassed, "I haven't any money to pay you."
Jo looked at Harry, and then looked round. Her friends were all occupied eating and talking to each other, getting ready to leave and walk around the gardens with their food. She leaned into Harry and smiled.
"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered.
He nodded.
"Even if you did have money to pay me, I wouldn't let you. I'm your friend, right? Well, friends share with friends, and money isn't an issue." She ruffled his hair gently. "Drink your milk, love. We'll be leaving in a minute, and you can eat your sandwich along the way."
Harry, now feeling much better, did as he was told.
The quartet locked up their stuff inside the Temple and took their walking lunch. Harry trotted along beside them, delicately eating his sandwich and Mars bar and staring round at everything. Jim and Jo fell into step beside each other, talking animatedly and letting Harry run ahead slightly to things that caught his eye. Neither let him out of their sight.
Aidan and Lisa were up ahead with Harry, who was peering intently at some bushes, when Jo felt something warm clasp around her left hand. She looked down for a moment, pleased, and yet not surprised, so see that Jim had taken it in his right.
And Harry looked back at them with a sudden smile. Jim didn't appear to see this, but Jo did. She returned it, and he ran off again.
They all walked past the decrepit, decaying Palm House (under renovation), and into the Rose Garden, where Harry dashed about, looking at plants and frequently finding interesting things on the ground – mostly dead petals. He kept filling his pockets with them, for some reason. No one did anything to stop this, and Aidan seemed to get a kick out of chasing Harry around and scooping him up to show him huge blooms that were out of his range of vision.
This often got a long, low, "Wow!" in response, and the first time Aidan caught a happily shrieking Harry and picked him up to show off some enormous roses, Lisa laughed. It was a startling, pleasant sound that Jo had never heard from the normally stone-faced violinist. Really, she thought, she'd never seen her group behave so strangely. It was a bit like they'd all adopted Harry for the day. Or perhaps Harry had adopted them.
If he had, he didn't seem to realize it. His mind was mostly on the plants and the music he'd heard them play (he seemed particularly excited about the last movement of the Lark, even if he couldn't remember the title). Jim had finally broken his hold on Jo's hand. The other three players had wandered ahead.
Jo was hanging back with Harry, when their talk turned to family. Jo told Harry that her parents lived in London, and then asked where Harry's parents lived.
"They don't live at all," Harry said abruptly. "I live with my aunt and uncle."
"Oh my, I'm sorry. Well, I'm sure your aunt and uncle love you very much."
"Not really," Harry said, as though he were talking about a stranger's life, and not his own. "My uncle isn't very nice, and he's always horrible about my mum and dad. He says they're 'six feet under and good riddance' when anyone asks about them."
Jo gasped.
"Oh, but I don't believe him," Harry responded, seeing her stricken face. "I don't think they're six feet under and good riddance, I think they're with Stripes." He smiled a little.
"S-Stripes?"
"He was my cousin's kitten. He got hit by a car. Aunt Petunia said Stripes was a good kitty, so he got to go to heaven. I think my parents must be in heaven, too."
It seemed that was all Harry wanted to say, and Jo didn't press him any more. Instead, she surreptitiously plucked a rose bloom off a bush and handed it to him to distract him. Harry took it and quickly began to amuse himself with the flower, trying to balance it on his head while hopping on one foot. It fell off him almost immediately. He laughed, put it back on, and started hopping again, completely forgetting about the conversation.
They walked away from the Rose Garden and down the Cherry Walk, where everyone delighted to see the cherry trees in bloom, raining light pink petals down on them all. Harry, predictably, crouched at intervals and stuffed fallen petals into his pockets. Lisa, mostly in an effort to get him to stop picking things up off the ground (which she finally realized was quite unsanitary), distracted him for a bit by showing him the Japanese names of some of the trees. Harry tried to repeat the Japanese words and mangled them, to everyone else's amusement.
They wended their way through the Cherry Walk, past another garden, and into the Temperate House, which was full of light and interesting plants. The quartet, all having been here as children, kept commenting on how small the place seemed now. Harry had the opposite opinion, but he was quite satisfied with his situation, since there was no shortage of people willing to pick him up and show him things.
So he began to ask for it, stopping at exhibits and tugging randomly on the trouser legs behind him, inquiring politely if he could please "be taller." Lisa and Jo both did this a few times, and Jim hefted him quite a bit as well. But oddly enough, it was goofy, giggly, hair-in-his-eyes Aidan that seemed to be Harry's most frequent lift. He picked Harry up so much, and pointed out so many things, that Jo began to wonder when his arms would fail.
And then Aidan did something which surprised everyone. While Jim was explaining to Harry how the Proteas had gotten here all the way from Africa, Aidan stopped by a rubbish bin and dropped his still nearly-full bottle of "apple juice" into it. Lisa's mouth dropped open.
"What are you doing?" she asked. "Isn't that your secret sauce?"
"Well, there's no point carrying it around all day. I haven't had a drop since this morning, and anyway, it seems like all I do is put it down and pick Harry up!" Aidan said. He didn't seem to be the least bit sorry about this.
Harry began to get fidgety after a bit, so they left the glass house and kept wandering until they reached a lovely, ornamental Japanese gate and rock garden. The view was gorgeous.
"This is so … inspiring!" Aidan said. "It's so absolutely fabulous, and yet so simple!"
"Oh Lord, I think feel a minimalist composition heading our way! Run for your lives!" Jim said.
Jo and Lisa laughed, Aidan looked cross, and Harry chirped, "What's minimism?"
"Minimalism," Jo said, "Is the greatest thing. It means you do very little, for a very long time!"
"Oh," said Harry, not really understanding.
"Don't worry, love," Jo said, seeing his confusion. "If you go into music, they force you to learn all about it."
And the troupe began the long walk back. Jim took one of Harry's hands, Jo took the other, and Aidan and Lisa fell into step on either side. It was the oddest, happiest little parade you could imagine.
Oh, yes, Jo thought. Harry had definitely adopted them.
After a bigger lunch than he was used to and wandering around looking at so many plants, Harry felt very sleepy. Feeling sleepy in the afternoon was not a foreign feeling. Nor was stumbling, he tended to do that when he was very tired. But he'd never had someone pick him up like that.
He tripped, he remembered that much, but someone had scooped him up and settled him on something warm and solid that moved. A hip, he realized. He hardly had time to think about this before something heavy was draped over his back and he fell asleep.
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