Going to bed early meant waking up early, especially for someone who was used to waking up early most of the time anyways. When Jack opened his eyes next, it was early – even for him – and he knew without even looking that Daniel was asleep, still. Mainly because he could hear him snoring. He lazed in bed for a few minutes, giving his body the opportunity to go back to sleep if he needed more rest, but his bladder told him that sleep wasn't the most important thing just then, and he felt a bit scruffy from sleeping in his clothes, which meant changing and showering. But maybe he wouldn't shave – just because.
He rolled out of bed, feeling stiff and a little achy, although the headache that had plagued him the night before was gone. Scowling at Daniel – who, if anything, was snoring even louder than he had been when Jack first woke up – O'Neill crossed the room and headed for the bathroom, stopping only long enough to grab his bag so he wouldn't have to turn the light on in the main room to search for clean clothes.
He didn't sing in the shower – he rarely did – but he did shave, and he felt a lot better when he finally got out, dried off and dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. Socks and shoes and his wallet, and Jack was ready to go find some breakfast. A larger breakfast to make up for not having a large dinner. He tossed another annoyed look at Daniel – not that it was his fault, since everyone knew Daniel had allergies and snored – and closed the door behind him, heading for the elevator.
And found himself face to face with the Harry Potter kid once more when the door opened.
Just as startled as Jack was, Harry gave him a somewhat shy smile and moved to the left to make room for him.
"Are you following me?" Jack asked, feeling pretty good and more than ready to enjoy a little banter – even if it was with a teenager.
Harry's smile widened, and he didn't look quite so uncomfortable, now.
"I was here, first," he reminded Jack.
Oh yeah.
"Meeting your friends?"
Harry shook his head.
"They're all asleep."
"Playing on the elevators?"
He smiled, again.
"I thought I'd get some breakfast."
Jack nodded, and the elevator came to a stop.
"That's where I'm going. Care to join me?"
"You're not meeting anyone?"
"They're asleep."
Harry hesitated, and then shrugged.
"If you want company, sure."
"I do."
They walked to the restaurant, and were shown to the same table they'd sat in the last time. Given menus and water glasses, they were quiet for a little while as they made their choices, and when the waitress brought Jack his coffee and Harry a cup of hot chocolate they ordered – Jack insisting that he would buy breakfast, since he had been the one stalking Harry.
When the waitress left them once more, Jack took a sip of his coffee, and watched as Harry scooped some whipped cream off the top of his hot chocolate.
"So…" he said, finally. "You're really Harry Potter, huh?"
Harry blushed, now, and Jack saw his hand move as if to brush his hair forward over his forehead.
"Yes."
Jack smiled an apology for embarrassing him.
"Minerva told me," he said.
Harry nodded, and hesitated again.
"I know who you are, too, now…" he said.
"Yeah?"
"Mr. Weasley told me…"
"Ah."
Jack wondered what he'd been told. But only wondered it for a moment, because Harry's next question answered that.
"Is… Voldemort really your brother?"
Jack shrugged.
"Apparently. I don't see much resemblance, myself, but I didn't have much of a chance to talk with him." He frowned. "We don't choose our relatives, Harry… so don't hold that against me, okay?"
Harry shook his head.
"I never would."
He'd be the last one to hold a relative against someone, after all – although Colonel O'Neill didn't know that.
"Do you really go to other planets?"
Jack looked around, and frowned.
"That's classified stuff, Harry…"
"Sorry."
He smiled to soften the rebuke. Harry Potter was a teenaged wizard – or a wizard-to-be, or whatever they called neophyte wizards. He was close enough to the age that Charlie would have been – although Charlie would have been a couple of years older – that Jack wondered if the two of them might have ever met had things been different, and wondered if they would have been friends. He felt that familiar ache at the thought of his son, but once more also felt that it wasn't as agonizing as it once had been.
"So… you go to wizard school, right?"
Harry smiled, his green eyes twinkling in good humor.
"That's classified stuff, Colonel O'Neill…"
Just then a little boy walked by with his mother, waving a stick and chanting nonsense words that were obviously meant to be spells of some sort. Jack and Harry both watched him walk by and then O'Neill looked at Harry.
"My secret's a lot better kept than yours is."
Harry laughed.
"What do you want to know, Colonel O'Neill?"
Jack shrugged and took another sip of his coffee.
"Whatever you want to tell me. And just call me Jack, okay?"
"Okay."
So he did.
