As early as he'd gone to bed, it was no real surprise that Jack woke up well before the others the next morning. He had eventually fallen asleep still wearing the slacks and shirt he'd been wearing the night before, and when he woke up he couldn't help but feel just a bit rumpled and out of sorts. Which came from going to bed fully dressed and annoyed. A quick shower did a lot to take care of that annoyance, however, and he came to the realization that Daniel was right and he probably had been a jerk to Carter the day before. He'd try to do better that day, and maybe find a way to make it up to her. Or at least not be such a grump. He also decided that he'd try to find that kid whose stick he'd broken and replace it – even though the odds of that were pretty slim. It wasn't like there probably weren't going to be 400 kids running around the hotel all wearing exactly what that kid had been. Maybe he'd look for the only one not carrying a wand. Or the depressed looking one.

Shaking his head, he shaved and then got out of the shower. A change of clothes (jeans and a flannel shirt) took care of the rumpled feeling, and he was feeling a lot better by the time he decided he was hungry.

He went out into the main room, but Daniel was still asleep, snoring lightly with his glasses skewed on his face and a faint line of drool running down the corner of his cheek. Jack debated waking him up; decided he didn't feel like a lecture – just in case the archeologist was still miffed with him – slipped on a pair of loafers, grabbed his wallet and headed for the door. A minute later he was standing by the elevators, pushing the button to the main lobby. The hotel restaurant would be open he was sure – and hopefully it'd be too early for most of the kids to be awake, because he doubted that the bar and grill would be open this early and wouldn't be able to find a sanctuary away from them.

Then the elevator door opened, and Jack gave a purely mental groan. Standing there, looking a little rumpled himself, was yet another kid. This one was dark haired, wearing glasses – like all the others – and had a scar on his forehead. Like all the others. Amazingly, as Jack got on the elevator, the young man actually tried to smooth his hair flat, covering the scar, although it immediately flipped up once more.

Remembering his promise to himself to try and be a little nicer to the kids today, Jack gave him a tight smile as the door closed behind him.

"I'll bet your name's Harry Potter."

The boy started, and his hand went to his hair once more to push it down, but he stopped and put his hand in the pocket of his jeans instead.

"How did you know that?"

Jack detected a British accent, and wondered if it was real or if the kid was imitating it because this Potter kid went to school in England, too. He gestured to the scar.

"Lucky guess."

The boy blushed, and looked down at his feet for a moment, and then back at Jack, who felt like a heel for embarrassing him.

"I'm Jack. Jack O'Neill."

Harry nodded a greeting, and Jack saw what had to be a wand in the back pocket of the kid's jeans.

"Nice to meet you."

There was an awkward pause as the two of them stared at the closed door, and Jack spoke up again.

"So… you here for the convention?"

Jeeze! Of course he was here for the convention! What? Did the kid run around every day with a stick in his pocket and a scar drawn on his head?

Harry smiled, though, and nodded.

"Yes. For today, anyways. We've never been to one."

"You're here with your parents?"

The smile faded, and suddenly the boy seemed even younger than the fourteen or so that Jack had assumed him to be.

"No… I'm with some friends."

He didn't say it, but Jack had a feeling that there was something either wrong with the boy's parents, or worse.

The elevator door swooshed open, and O'Neill almost cheered. He waited just a moment to give the boy a chance to step out first and then got out himself. Amazingly, they both headed for the restaurant.

"I'm supposed to meet my friends," Harry told him, almost apologetically, as if he was worried Jack would think he was following him.

Jack nodded.

"I am, too, but I think they're probably all still sleeping."

The boy nodded, too, and they walked side by side into the restaurant. Only to find it completely empty.

"I guess my friends are asleep, too."

Jack nodded – again – for lack of anything better to do, but before he could say anything they were met by the hostess, who had a very large smile on her face and looked far too chipper for that time of day.

"Table for two?" She asked.

"Actually," Jack said, "We're meeting people…"

"So… a bigger table?" She asked.

"Separately," Harry said.

"Oh."

Jack shrugged. What the hell, he could use a little awkward company while he waited for the others.

"Why don't I buy you a cup of coffee, Harry, until your friends come down?"

It wouldn't really make up for breaking that other kid's stick or for being a jerk to Carter, but it was an attempt.

"I don't drink coffee, Jack."

"Hot chocolate, then."

Harry hesitated, but then shrugged.

"Okay."

Why not? He didn't like sitting alone any more than most people did.

Jack turned to the hostess.

"A table for two – for now – but we're going to need other tables later."

"That's fine, sir," she told him brightly. "Come this way, please." And she led the two of them to one of the booths against the wall – which would be perfect for watching for the others. As they sat down, the hostess handed them menus, and told them a waitress would be right with them, and then she vanished.

"Are you here for the convention?" Harry asked.

Jack smiled, and nodded.

"Kind of."

"You brought your kids?"

This time it was Jack who looked just a little vulnerable and hurt, and the boy seemed to realize immediately that he'd hit on a sensitive subject.

"Sorry."

Jack waved off the apology, giving him a half-hearted smile.

"Don't be."

The two of them stared down at their menus, not really looking at them, just not really able to look at each other for a moment, and it was Jack that finally spoke up.

"I'm here with a fewfriends… one is turning into a huge fan, and I'm hoping to keep it from becoming an obsession."

Harry nodded, looking up from his menu.

"You're not a fan?"

"No. Not really. You must be, though, huh?"

The boy smiled, and Jack thought maybe he was blushing just a bit.

"I'm not all that big a fan, really… I never knew about how famous Harry Potter was until only a few years ago."

"You're a step ahead of me," Jack said. "I didn't know until a few days ago."