Hi, hi, it's me again. I promised several of you that this chapter would be up last Saturday, but you know me…the "Irregular Update Queen".
Here's an interesting bit of Au Pair news: the official Au Pair iMix has been posted on iTunes! The playlist is really just a bunch of songs that are vaguely related to the story, or ones I listened to while writing. Anyway, if you have iTunes you can find it by searching for "Au Pair" in the iMix category. Let me know what you think!
Glad to see you're all up on your Jewish info! Hehe. Thank you DoNtLetMeGetMe for being so dang smart. Have a good year, Abbey!
Disclaimer: Only four more of these left to go! Yes! It's not mine.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The week passed rather uneventfully, compared to the beginning of the month. Petunia's sudden bad health didn't improve very much, and she remained cooped up in her room for the rest of July, moaning or sleeping. Vernon, who had until that point been spending as much time as possible out of the house (in order to avoid Petunia, as Lily had suspected), made a complete turn-around, taking time off work to be stay with his wife. Although Lily consciously held no positive feelings for the couple, an instinctual sisterly concern of hers made her feel slightly happy that Petunia was being looked after. Not that she deserved anyone's love, after how she had treated Harry for fifteen years.
Harry himself spent the week doing homework or helping Lily with her household duties, although Lily could judge from his lack of concentration that mowing the lawn wasn't the main thing on her son's mind. Of course, Harry would be worried sick about Mrs. Weasley and the rest. They were his favorite wizarding family, according to Dumbledore, and he had spent several summers with them. From what the Headmaster had passed on to her, Molly Weasley had been sort of a mother figure to Harry during his early teenage years, and her son Ron his brother. If they ever got a chance to meet, Lily would be sure to thank her for looking after Harry.
But life went on in the Dursley residence. Vernon and Petunia were completely ignorant of Harry's problems, so they treated him just as awfully as ever. Lily wasn't sure if they would ease up on him even if they knew about the Weasleys. As for Lily – well, they continued to assign her absurdly difficult tasks that proved no use to anyone whatsoever. On Wednesday the 24th, she had to wax all the woodwork on the first floor. Even Harry, usually her sidekick in every job au-pair related, was hesitant to help her with that particular chore. Instead, he quoted the newsman they had all watched last night, and said that he should be outside enjoying the last of the week's good weather. Lily encouraged him to go – he really shouldn't be doing so much of her work for him, anyway – and watched from the curtained kitchen window as Harry pulled out a lounge chair from the garage, knowing that he was catching up with his Occlumency work.
Harry and the newsman were right, as it turned out. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday turned out to be gloomy, miserable days, both inside and outside the brick walls of Number Four. While the rain pounded down on them out of doors, Petunia threw several tantrums directed at Lily and Vernon, all over unimportant, silly things. Lily was criticized for turning down the bed incorrectly. She spent a half an hour explaining how to tuck in the sheets the right way, practically lost her voice when Lily tried to get her to lay down, and ended the fight by crying over how useless it all was anyway.
The fights with Vernon were usually over his work. Poor Vernon (did she actually just think that?) didn't appear to have fought with Petunia before, and was taken quite by surprise by her abusive hollering. His wife scolded him for not going to work enough, or going to work too often, for taking up all the time in the bathroom, for picking out the wrong tie, or for not keeping Dudley's summer occupied and entertaining.
In an attempt to calm his wife, Vernon signed his son up for a week-long boxing course at the gym where he fought. Dudley was torn over this – he would have much rather spent his summer in front of the telly or computer, but he also seemed a little scared of his mother when she was like this. Not to mention, Dudley would jump at any chance to beat someone up, and the boxing camp would provide opportunities for hurting other kids five times in a whole week.
Petunia's moods, Vernon's sudden changes in behavior, and Dudley's bloodlust made the weekend a difficult one, but Lily and Harry kept one another's spirits up with the use of humor and sympathy. Only by comparing exasperated remarks about the Dursleys and joking about them behind their backs did the mother and son team make it to Monday. With the turnaround of the weather (the temperature was in the eighties and not a cloud could be seen) came the transformation of the Dursley household. Petunia stayed quiet and mournful up in her room with Vernon cooped up with her. Dudley was at boxing camp from 8:00 to 6:00, so they never saw much of him.
Monday, the 28th, and Tuesday, the 29th, passed by more smoothly. After Lily had finished her day's work, she and Harry would walk to Shrine Park and spend a few hours on the swings. They even made a friend there – a scruffy calico with no collar or owner tag. Lily and Harry made trips back and forth from the house to the park, bringing leftover chicken and tuna for the skinny cat to devour while they sat on the park benches nearby and laughed over memories of the past two weeks.
When they came home, at around five, Harry would retreat to his cupboard and Lily would make dinner for the Dursleys. Petunia was receiving all her meals in her bedroom by now, so Lily had to learn the art of carrying soup on a dish up a flight of stairs. If she was lucky, Petunia would accept whatever Lily gave her with only a few weak complaints about serving temperature and flavor, although there was one incident on Sunday night when Petunia was recovering from her last spout of yelling. Lily considered the good points: it had only taken forty-five minutes to scrub the tomato sauce off her uniform, and Petunia had completely missed the rug this time, so she wouldn't have any major cleaning to do in the bedroom.
o-o
The morning of the 30th was a Wednesday, so normally Vernon would already be at work and Dudley at his week-long boxing camp, but the man of the house chose to stay home again, since Petunia was throwing another fit. Since his father was supposed to drive him to the gym, the complaining Dudley was forced to stay at home, too.
Once the screaming had passed upstairs, Harry left his cupboard to help Tabitha with breakfast. However, he instead found a bowl of cereal on the kitchen table and Tabitha bent over a cookbook, mixing bowl in hand.
When she heard his footsteps, she turned and smiled. "Good morning, Harry! Your breakfast is on the table. I'm sorry; I really didn't have time to make anything special, I wanted to get this done by the afternoon."
"What are you baking?" Harry asked, taking a seat and tucking into his cornflakes.
"A cake for a certain soon-to-be sixteen year old who neglected to mention that his birthday is tomorrow," she said teasingly.
Harry dropped his spoon. "How do you know about that?"
Tabitha paused. "Petunia told me." She changed the subject just as one last painful scream sounded from the second floor. "Speaking of, it doesn't seem like the rest of the Dursley family will be joining in on the festivities tomorrow, so it'll just be you and me eating this cake."
Harry reddened. "You really didn't have to…"
"What do you mean, 'I didn't have to'? What boy doesn't deserve a cake on his birthday? By the way, what do the Dursleys usually do for your birthday?" Tabitha asked lightly.
He bought some time by inserting a particularly large spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "Mummph…" Harry swallowed. "Not much."
"Don't talk with you mouth full," Tabitha scolded. "'Not much', eh? Well, this year you can at least be certain that you'll get a rice chocolate cake."
"So can I help?"
Harry tried to time Tabitha's peals of laughter, but he lost track after five minutes.
"You can't be serious!" She choked out later.
"Come on! I promise – I won't touch the flour or any of the other powdered stuff, and I'll leave all the measuring up to you. I can just mix and crack eggs if you really want me to!" He persisted.
"Alright, alright. I suppose you could help. A little." Tabitha rolled her eyes. "Actually, before you came in here, I was looking for a recipe. I don't like many of the ones in this cookbook, though. Would you mind going up into my room and fetching the Guide to Fine Cuisine? I think I left it on my dresser."
Harry hurried upstairs and into the guest bedroom on the far left. He took a moment to look around his old room. Not much was different from when he had lived there; it was still stiff and clean, although the random touches of personality that Tabitha had apparently added, like the candles on the night tables and the cosmetic boxes on the dresser, did help.
Harry spotted the heavy cookbook on the table, and lifted it into his arms. He was just exiting the bedroom when he heard a loud and irregular screeching noise coming from the window outside. He swiveled toward the window and saw an owl flapping frantically and looking desperate. Its wing looked like it was caught on one of the broken bits of metal that used to be bars.
Harry dropped the cookbook and hurried across the room. He opened the window and reached down to the rough edge that the owl's wing had snagged on. The creature squealed in protest when Harry reached for its wounded wing, but dodged its snapping beak and slid the feathers out of the metal. The owl hooted deafeningly, and went limp as if it fainted, but Harry caught it and pulled it inside.
He carried the owl over to Tabitha's bed and set it down on the blanket, trying not to touch the damaged area too much. The bird was definitely unconscious.
Poor thing, Harry thought sadly. Let me see what I can do for it…
He gently pushed a finger against the wing joint to see if it was broken. It didn't seem like any bones had cracked, and there wasn't any blood, but the wing was twisted a bit too much, and several feathers had been bent. Harry decided to leave the owl where it was , since he was afraid of causing it any more pain. It could recuperate at Number Four and then return to wherever it came from when it was better.
Harry took a minute to observe. The bird was a large, regal-looking barn owl, and not one that Harry recognized from any of his friends, though he supposed it could be from someone in the Order, checking up on him again.
Turning back to shut the window, Harry spotted a letter on the ledge, probably where the owl dropped it. It must be for me, he assumed. Although, why didn't the owl bring it straight to my room? They usually have such a good sense of direction… Harry shrugged and ripped open the envelope.
Tabitha,
The potion is complete! I have one final adjustment to make regarding the consistency, but the entire process will be finished once the Side Effect Reversal cools. I will be contacting you in an hour or so. Be prepared.
A. Dumbledore
Harry gawked at the parchment in front of him. Tabitha…? Potion…? Dumbledore…? Tabitha? Tabitha was a witch? All this time, and she never told him…?
Footsteps clonked up the stairs, and Harry heard her voice.
"Harry? Are you still in there? I know my room is a disaster, but you must'vefound the book by now!"
Tabitha entered the room, and Harry still hadn't moved. He was rooted to the floor, mouth opened and letter loose in his hand.
She looked worried once she saw his expression. "What's the mat –"
The owl hooted feebly from the bed, and Tabitha's head snapped toward it. Harry watched her eyes dart from the owl to the letter in his hand. Her face lost color rapidly.
"I – I, I… I can explain –"
"You're a witch?" Harry interrupted disbelievingly. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
Tabitha's lip quivered. She looked alarmed. "Well, you see – "
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" Petunia's loudest scream ever broke her explanation.
A white-faced, panting Vernon raced into the bedroom.
"It's coming! The baby's coming!"
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
(A/N) And the cliffies keep on comin'…
Just a tiny note: this chapter wasn't edited properly, so please excuse any errors or rough parts you might find. It was late. I was tired. I have no better excuses.
Trivia: Hehe…your reactions to this will be enough for me!
Review replies are on the profile.
You know you hate me,
LaRohaZeta