Chapter five.

"Nell, dear!" exclaimed the woman. "And who's this?" she asked, twinkling kindly down at Harry.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand, snuffled a bit, and then stood up straight and said, "I'm Harry, m'm. Harry Potter." He held his hand out, and she took it and gave it a quick shake.

"Well, then, Harry Potter, would you like to come in and have a nice cup of hot cocoa while my daughter explains what's going on?" She held the door open and waved Nell and Harry inside.

He nodded before he came inside, but he missed the look Nell and her mother exchanged. Harry was quite tired, actually. It had been rather a long drive around London, and he had, after all, just been given away by his only relatives. Nell, watching him, could see an underlying strength, though, in the way he held himself and kept his chin tilted up. He'd need that fortitude, certainly, dealing with her as a mother.

Mother. Mother. Mother. Nell still hadn't absorbed the implication. At twenty-one and change, one impulsive decision had left her with an eight-year-old son.

"Do you want to help me make the cocoa, Harry?" asked Nell's mother gently. He nodded and followed her into the kitchen, while Nell sank down onto the sofa, trying to decide how to describe this situation to her mother.

When Harry and Mrs. Burton returned with a tray of hot cocoa and biscuits, Nell had composed herself somewhat.

But when her mother sent her that amused, inquiring look, Nell couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. It was either that or cry, and she didn't think she should subject poor Harry to that. He was already looking rather hurt and shocked, and while she couldn't stop laughing, she pulled him close on the couch and gave him a tight hug. That calmed her down enough to sip at her cocoa, calming her further.

"Mum," said Nell, "This is my son, Harry." She deliberately didn't explain the strange statement, watching for her mother's reaction.

Her mother only blinked. "Ah. Was this a very well-kept secret, or a recent development?"

"As of," Nell checked her watch, "Seven this evening, I suppose. You see, Harry had just spent a week with me, and when we went back to his relatives' house –"

Harry interjected quietly, "They didn't want me."

Nell didn't know what to say to that. It was, after all, true. So she just pulled Harry close for another squeeze.

Her mother looked at them. "You seem to have things well in hand, dear. If you need my help with anything, of course I'd be more than happy to do what I can, but it seems that if you've managed a week, you can manage a month. And if you can manage a month –"

Nell chorused with her, "—you can manage a year. And then the rest of your life." She looked down at Harry. "It's something of a family motto: to remind us to take life in bits and bobs instead of great big unmanageable chunks."

Harry looked at his hands. "Am I unmanageable, then?"

Nell, shocked at what she'd implied, hurried to deny it. "No! No, Harry, that's not what I meant. I just meant, I'm a bit afraid of trying to be a mum, so I'm trying to think of it of simply a lot of weeks like the one we just had rather than ten more years, that's all. You're a blessing, I swear, Harry." Harry gave a small smile. Nell smiled shakily back.

Nell looked back at her mother. "Advice is all I'll need, I think. I only have one semester left at uni, and then I should be able to get a job. Dr. Carlson knows someone who's interested in having me there, and it seems an excellent opportunity. I just wanted to introduce Harry to his grandmother, I suppose."

Harry clearly hadn't thought about this angle. "Grandmother?" he said rapturously. "Really? Do I have a grandfather, too?"

Nell's eyes stung suddenly. "No, I'm afraid not, Harry. My father died several years ago."

Harry nodded. "So did my parents. They had a car crash."

Nell hugged him even closer, and Mrs. Burton leaned over and squeezed his thin shoulder. Then she gasped. "My word, you're skin and bones, boy!" she exclaimed. "Here, biscuit, biscuit!"

And the sad moment was broken for the time being. The three laughed like old friends.

But only a few minutes later, Harry was yawning widely two and three times in a row, and Mrs. Burton shooed him off to Nell's old bedroom, bustling around to get him an extra blanket and glass of water and last biscuit. But when she finished fussing, she returned to the lounge where she had directed her daughter to remain.

Stopping in the doorway, she glared. "What on earth! Nell Katherine Burton, I cannot believe you! What were you thinking? You aren't ready to care for a child right now, and certainly not a child as damaged as I'm sure Harry is after an experience like that! What were you about, you little daftie?"

Nell threw up her hands. "I had to get him away from them! You wouldn't believe it. They locked him in the cupboard under the stairs. For days, mum. They call him a useless freak; they talk about how worthless his parents were. I think once he implied that it would have been better if he had died in the crash as well! You can't tell me that's normal!"

"No," conceded her mother, sighing, "but why you, Nell? Why not simply call the authorities and have him taken into care?"

Nell sighed. "Well, for starters, they have money. Not like Money or MONEY, but they're comfortable. You'd be surprised what authorities overlook in the wealthier homes," she added bitterly. "Plus, have you seen him? Talked to him? Then you know. Something about that boy just draws you in. I'd known him for about ten minutes and I was devoted. Why else would I drive all the way out to Little Whinging to that odious Dursley house? It certainly wasn't for the 5 pounds an hour!" She sighed deeply and looked imploringly up at her mother. "I can't describe it. Do you know what I mean?"

Her mother said lightly, "Unfortunately, yes." Nell's head jerked up and her eyes asked a question. "I say unfortunately, because it's how I felt when I first saw you, and hearing you describe it has reminded me just how old I am. Dear me, I have an eight-year-old grandson!" she said, as if she was having trouble absorbing the idea.

"Oh, mum, I hadn't even thought about that!" said Nell with mock sympathy. But she couldn't help laughing when her mother met her eyes.

"Will you stay for a few days?" her mother asked.

"Tonight, definitely," said Nell, grateful for the chance to avoid driving back to her flat that night. "But I should really get Harry back home on Sunday so that getting off to school on Monday isn't a problem."

Her mother nodded. "That makes sense, dear. Look, you're already thinking like a mother." She smiled when Nell looked up at her in alarm. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it," she said.

Nell sighed. "Can I go to bed, Mummy?"

Her mother sent her off to the guest bedroom with a hug and an extra biscuit, just as she had with Harry.