Dislcaimer: Do you honestly think I am stupid enough to claim I own any of this? (besides Jen and her friends/family of course)

A/N: sorry if this is short, hope you like it

Jen and Harry sat at the table while Jen's mom finished up the pancakes that she was making. It was almost as if her mom had been expecting Jen to show up with Harry. Come to think of it, she probably was. Jen noticed her very tired father across the table. He had bags under his eyes and looked as if he had hardly slept at all. Unlike Jen and her mother, who were both night-owls and could do easily with only a few hours of sleep, Jen's father needed either seven or eight hours of sleep or a couple of cups of coffee to be fully awake; sometimes both. She was surprised that her parents had unpacked the hard way; usually she was the only one stubborn enough to do that. Jen's mom set a mug of coffee along with the pot down in front of her husband and set a mug of lightly steaming liquid down in front of Jen. She looked at her mother gratefully, glad that one of them hadn't forgotten.
Jen looked across the table at who Harry guessed was her father. The two didn't look very much alike, and the man seemed to have gotten very little sleep. Then Mrs. Davenport set a mug of coffee along with a pot of it on front of the man and a cup of what Harry guessed was tea in front of Jen. "Well Harry," Mrs. Davenport said, drawing his attention away from Jen, "we've got coffee, milk, orange juice, apple juice, and I think some tea to drink. What would you like?"

"Tea please," he replied. He then turned back to Jen and watched as she held her nose and downed whatever was in her mug in one gulp. She cringed a little at the taste and then grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate in the middle of the table. "What is that?" he asked, only afterwards realizing how rude it must have sounded.

"Some absolutely disgusting stuff that I have to take once a week for my allergies," she said convincingly, but for some reason Harry got the impression that she was lying. Well, if she is lying, she's a good liar. She gave him another small smile and he returned it. As he did so, his scar twinged a bit. He inadvertently rubbed at it, knowing that it wouldn't do anything for the pain. "You're head hurt?" Jen asked. She had a knowing look on her face, and Harry wanted to at least have an idea just how much she knew.

"Just a bit," he responded.

"I'm pretty good at acupressure. If you want I could try a bit to see if it would help."

"Isn't that the thing where someone sticks a bunch of needles in you to somehow relieve pain?" he asked cautiously.

She gave a small, soft chuckle and then said, "That's acupuncture acupressure is very similar, but without the needles."

Harry doubted it would help, but it was worth a try. "Sure," he replied. Mrs. Davenport then set a plate of pancakes and a mug of tea in front of Harry and a plate of pancakes along with a glass of milk in front of Jen. Jen grabbed the blueberry syrup and smothered her pancakes in it before offering it, along with the maple syrup, to Harry. He took the maple syrup and poured a bit on his pancakes.

Just as Mrs. Davenport was about to sit down and eat her breakfast, the phone rang. Harry and Jen exchanged looks, apparently thinking along the same lines. "Hello, Davenport residence, Vera speaking," Mrs. Davenport said as she picked up the phone. It was surprising how quickly her demeanor had changed. She had gone from being the odd, happy woman she had been minutes ago to a proud, somewhat snooty woman who socialized with people like his aunt.

Jen mouthed something like, "She's a good actress." She then winked and looked back at her mother.

"-Well it's nice to meet you, Petunia."

Jen looked at Harry with a questioning look in her eyes. Harry nodded and Jen got up, returning seconds later with a piece of paper and a crayon. She began writing something on it.

"-My, what an interesting way to get a phone number."

Jen added what Harry guessed were exclamation points. Either that or she's trying to stab an inanimate object with a dull crayon.

"-Dinner tonight at six?"

Now Jen began frantically waving the paper, trying to get her mother's attention with it. Her mother rolled her eyes and then returned to speaking with his aunt. Jen let the paper drop and Harry saw that it said "NO BLOODY WAY!" He suppressed a chuckle.

"-We'd be happy to come."

Jen scribbled something else on the back of the paper. This time Harry looked over her shoulder. The paper now said, "Have fun; no way in hell I'm going"

Before Jen got a chance to show her mother the new message, she said, "-Why yes, we do have a daughter around your boy's age. How did you know that?" she inquired politely.

Jen gave her mother a puppy dog look, which was returned with her mother giving her a smile and mouthing "sorry"

"-Well I'm sure she'd be happy to come."

Jen heaved a loud sigh and then let her head fall on the table as a sign of defeat. Or, at least, it would have landed on the table, had it not landed on the syrupy plate of pancakes that were still sitting in front of Jen. Jen's mum had just finished her conversation and started trying to suppress her laughter. Her father snorted into his coffee. Harry tried as hard as he could to keep a strait face, but it was no use.

"Just what I needed," came a muffled voice from Jen's direction. Now none of the other three could keep in their laughter. It was the first time Harry had really laughed in months. Jen lifted her head up; her face was now almost the color of her eyes, only slightly more purple. Now everyone laughed even harder, even Jen chuckled a bit. "So why exactly did you include me in this?" she asked her mother, who had just recovered from her laughing fit.

"That woman talked about how her 'absolutely wonderful' boy had noticed you last night as you were outside and that he 'just loved making new friends' and would be happy to introduce you to all the people your age so you wouldn't 'feel left out'. Apparently he's 'quite the little gentleman' and is 'very popular around the neighborhood'. It seemed like the best idea for you to come along; we want to start out on the right foot."

"Well I can see where he gets his modesty. And as for starting out on the right foot: I'm very likely to start out the evening by stepping on his," Jen said forcefully. Obviously she wasn't too fond of Dudley. Still, Jen's mum had a good point; they should try to put off making enemies with any of the neighbors as soon as possible. Though if they were nice to Harry, The other neighbors wouldn't like them for long.

After Harry and Jen finished eating, and Jen cleaned all the syrup from her face, Jen lead Harry into the sitting room. "Just sit down and relax," Jen instructed. Easier said than done. Still, Harry did as he was told at sat on the sofa. Jen sat down next to him, telling him to close his eyes. He was nervous about what was going on, but something about her voice calmed him. At this point he just barely noticed the pricks of pain his scar was giving him. He closed his eyes and heard Jen's voice telling him again to relax. Then he felt two soft, yet surprisingly strong, hands massaging his temples. One of the hands moved slowly to his scar, an area he had always been strangely protective of. He moved his head slightly, so that Jen's hand wouldn't touch it. He heard what he thought was a soft chuckle before the hand that had been about to touch his scar returned to what it had been doing. "It'll feel better if you let me do this without jerking around," Jen's peaceful voice said. Her hand moved once again to his scar, but this time he resisted the urge to move his head away. He felt a small tingling sensation on his scar. After a few seconds, the tingling subsided and his head felt completely clear and painless for the first time in weeks.

"How did you do that," he asked.

"Acupressure."

"Every time my head hurts I rub it, but it never does any good."

"Acupressure isn't just rubbing it. It's using pressure points to relieve tension. Also, you can't get your arms in the right angle from your head for acupressure to work on it," she countered. It seemed logical enough, and her definition of acupressure seemed accurate enough. Still, he had the strange feeling that she was hiding something from him. It wasn't that she had said it in a way that would have made it obvious she wasn't telling the truth. It was on a deeper level that he felt something. Either way, he was too grateful for the pain in his head to be relieved to care very much.

A/N: enjoy and review