REVIEWERS!

Shiba! Thanks again for your reviews. Sorry this update didn't come so fast.

thehappydementor: Thank you SO SO MUCH for calling that to my attention. I am not English. It's the kind of thing I desperately need to be told. What word would you suggest in place of "spunk?" Aidan was attempting to say that Harry is very lively. If you give me a better word to put in, I'll fix it in the final update.

Destiny13: Many thanks for your support, and for noticing that Harry occasionally acts a bit older than six. He's actually meant to. The way I figure it, his home life is rough, and acting a bit more mature, at least for now, is one of his survival techniques.

PlatoDan: Thanks for weighing in. Alas, this is almost the last chapter, and I don't feel comfortable making this an AU. Sorry, dude! But fear not, it's a happy ending.

wolfawaken and Grimdownsizer: THANK YOU!!! :D

Gia: Whoa! You have the power to let other people hear about this? Please do, if you can. I'd appreciate it. Thanks for reviewing! :D

Azula: Your spelling is terrible, but I luv ya anyway. LOL I think you will be very pleased with the epilogue. Thanks for reviewing!

Freja: Thanks for the input! I appreciate it. Glad you're enjoying the story. Have you looked up any viola jokes yet? Pianist, eh? Sweet!

Spezlee: That's a terrific connection. If only I had spelled Lisa's surname differently! Darn it. Ah, well. Can't have it all, I suppose. Thanks for your review!

And now …here's more. :)

Chapter Four: Forever Changed

Jo didn't even know what made her do it. She and Jim each had Harry by the hand, and they were all on their way back to the Temple for more rehearsal. Harry started yawning after they passed the Pavilion Restaurant, by the time they reached the Berberis Dell, an explosion of yellow on every bush, he was stumbling. He looked happy and full, and quite tired.

"All right there, love?" she asked.

Harry mumbled something incoherent and really tripped, like he would keep going and hit the pavement.

"Oh!" Jo said. She caught him before he fell and hefted him up onto her hip before Jim could even react.

Harry knocked his face into her striped shirt, threw his arms around her neck in an inborn, natural gesture, mumbled something else, and went quiet. Lisa looked at Jo with concern. And then without a word, she took off her jean jacket and covered Harry with it. With a solemn nod, like everything was now in its proper place, she moved back to Jo's right and fell into step again. The rest of the walk back to the Temple was silent.

Jim and Aidan cleared a spot on the couch where they'd been storing a few of their cases and left Harry there to sleep under Lisa's coat. He didn't wake up until almost three, but when he woke up, he seemed to be all right. He watched, apparently with interest, as they tweaked bowings and negotiated fingerings, tried different tempos and did slow tuning work.

At half past four, they realized their time was up, and that somehow, amazingly, they'd actually gotten their pieces to where they should be. They also realized that it was nearly time to say goodbye to Harry.

It was with a very heavy heart that Jo wiped down her instrument and packed it up. She shared a brief look with Jim, who gave her a look that went deeper than just sympathy. Even Lisa and Aidan looked glum. Nobody was looking forward to five o'clock.

They all slung their cases on their backs, except Jim, who'd installed wheels on his so he could roll it along. Jo helped Harry put on his jumper, but in the end ripped it off him in disgust and threw it in the nearest bin – it was so full of holes that it was useless. Lisa let Harry wear her jean jacket, instead. It fell to his knees, which caused a few smiles. Prim as usual, Lisa knelt in front of Harry and did up the buttons, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Jo took him by the hand and they made their way back to the main entrance, hurrying along so as not to make Harry late. Their pace was such that Harry had to trot in order to keep up, but they made it to the main gate just in time.

The place was crowded. Trams were arriving to take away the droves of visitors to Kew. The quartet looked a bit bewildered by all the people, and Harry was scanning around. Finally he tugged gently on Jo's trouser leg, and pointed. His class was over on the right, queuing up.

Harry looked at his class, and then back at Jo, and at his class, and then back at Jo again. Jo squatted down next to him. Harry very solemnly took off Lisa's coat and handed it to her, an implacable sadness in his green eyes.

"I don't want to go back, Jo."

"I know, dear," Jo said.

Harry had to queue up before the teacher saw him. She wanted to do something for him, though, before he had to leave.

She looked up at Jim and said, "Give him a card, would you? That way he can stay in touch," she said.

The cellist snapped to life, mumbling, "Right, right." He dug around in his pockets and came up with several small white cards. Peeling one away from its mates, he handed it to Harry. Harry read it.

"The Wooden Box Quartet," it said. "Lisa Prewitt, Violin. Aidan Trask, Violin. Josephine Weitzel, Viola. James Morris, Cello." It listed all of their telephone numbers, and said at the bottom, "Exquisite music for any elegant engagement. Price on request."

Harry looked up at all of them happily.

"If you ever want to call us, just to say hello, you do that, all right? And don't hesitate," Jo said. "I want to hear from you."

"I won't," Harry said quietly. "Hesitate, I mean. I'll call if my uncle lets me, but well…"

His dejected tone told her right away that this would probably be goodbye forever. Jo brushed aside her sudden, inexplicable moment of panic, smiled, and drew him in for a hug. "Goodbye, love. You take care of yourself, now, all right?"

He nodded solemnly. Jim picked him up, gave him a hug too, and simply handed him off to Aidan, who hugged him as well. Lisa wiped under one eye very fast and drew him into a final embrace. She swiped one calloused finger across the tip Harry's nose.

"You do what Jo says, all right? Be good."

Harry nodded.

"Then away with you, lad," she said softly, and gently shooed him off to join his class.

The quartet watched as Harry ran to the back of the line and joined his class boarding the tram that would take them to the nearest station. He kept looking back as the line moved forward.

Just as Harry boarded, they heard Mrs. Bloom say, "There you are, Potter! I called your name twice just now, why didn't you answer?"

And the tram pulled away. Jo watched it go, quite sad. Jim threw an arm around her. Aidan stared at the ground, his red hair hanging in his eyes. Lisa's bottom lip was quivering violently. And as soon as Harry was out of sight, twin tears coursed down her cheeks and plopped onto her pink blouse.

Aidan turned to her and saw she was crying. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I miss him," Lisa said simply.

After the concerts and the hustle and bustle of final exams and recitals, Jo was sprawled on her bed in the dormitory, relaxing and staring up at the ceiling. It was four o'clock and Jim would be along later, as they were going to dinner with Aidan and Fred. She had a feeling it would be a very interesting evening.

The phone jolted her out of her reverie. She crossed the room and picked it up. "Hello?" she said.

"Hello," said an unfamiliar woman's voice from the other end. "I'm looking for…" There was the scuffling of paper. "Josephine Weitzel?"

"Speaking," said Jo. "Who's calling, please?"

"My name is Emma Bloom. I teach primary school, first year, and one of my students turned in the strangest report to me yesterday about this class trip we took to the Kew Gardens. I'm so happy I reached you, Miss Weitzel."

Jo blinked. "I'm sorry, what's this about a student?"

"No, I apologize. I'm talking out of order. He's a small boy named Harry. Harry Potter."

Jo had to sit down. "Yes, I met a small boy named Harry at Kew, Friday last. Is he all right?"

"He's fine, miss. Why would you think otherwise?"

"Oh, I don't know," Jo said. "It's just, well, he spent the day with us, you know, and when he left he seemed so abominably sad. He also said he probably wouldn't be able to call … something about his uncle?"

"Ah. Well, I've heard some rumors about his home life," Mrs. Bloom said. "His cousin seems to be a bit of a bully. But please believe me that he's all right, and I will pass on your concern. Anyway, I … I'm sorry. This must sound so ridiculous. You see, I called to verify you were real. Harry is frequently by himself on the schoolyard, and he seems to have developed a habit of daydreaming, and, well, making things up."

"I see," Jo said, suddenly affronted and irritated with this woman for not believing Harry. "Well, I can confirm that I am not a figment of a six-year-old boy's imagination. How did you get this number, anyway?" she finished. It came off a little clipped.

Mrs. Bloom didn't seem to notice. "It was on his art project. I asked the whole class to write draw a picture of something they liked at the Gardens. He made a collage – glued rose petals and cherry blossom petals to some paper, and he drew what looks like a cello, I think, it's hard to tell. And he also glued your business card on there."

"Ah," said Jo. She didn't know what else to say.

"I also asked the students to write three paragraphs about their day at Kew, and cite one thing they learned," Mrs. Bloom continued. "Would you like to hear what Harry wrote?"

Jo was not really in the mood to talk to Mrs. Bloom anymore, considering she'd been the one to lose Harry in the first place and, to cork it all, had just accused the little chap of "making up" a homework assignment. But there was something in the teacher's voice that invited an affirmative, so Jo gave it.

"Of course," she said, and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Excellent." Mrs. Bloom cleared her throat, and began to read.

"My Day at Kew, by Harry Potter.

I got very lost at the Kew Gardens, but then I met Jo and Aidan and Lisa and Jim. They were very nice grownups from the University, and I spent the day with them. They are a string quartet. Lisa and Aidan play violin. Jo plays viola. Jim plays cello. They made lots of good music, and I danced, and nobody minded.

They took me around. I saw roses, and cherry trees, and all different kinds of flowers in the Temper House." (Mrs. Bloom laughed a little at this.) "I had a Mars bar and a sandwich. We saw a funny garden full of rocks from Japan and Aidan said he was going to do very little for a very long time." (Jo smiled.) "We went back to the music place and they played some more, but as I was so sleepy, I didn't dance again.

And when it was time to go, I was very sad. I liked the flowers, but I liked the grownups better. Jo was my favorite. I wonder if she would teach me viola. Its sound is the best! Uncle Vernon will not let me ring anybody, so I cannot ring her to say hello, but I will miss her quite a lot. I will miss them all quite a lot.

I learned one important thing at Kew. There are good people all around. If you are lucky, you find them. And if you are really lucky, they find you first. "

There was a very long pause. Jo felt her breath catch in her throat. "Erm," she said, her voice shaking, "That was lovely. And I can assure you that he made none of it up. Would – would you please tell him that we all miss him as much as he misses us?"

"Of course," said Mrs. Bloom. "You know, I feel quite horrible for losing Harry in the first place, Miss Weitzel, in fact, worse for not even noticing I lost him 'till he turned in this report. But thank you for taking care of him. Something tells me he needed it very badly."

A tear got free, and Jo tried valiantly to compose herself. "We were all happy to stay with him, Mrs. Bloom. And thank you for calling."

They said goodbye and hung up, and Jo sat there, staring out the window, lost in thought. She was still sitting there when Jim came by.

Hang on, everybody. An epilogue should be up in a few days.