One Family
It turns out all that time I spent trying to think of a way to tell Jack I'd gotten married was wasted. We'd hardly gone through the door of his apartment when he snatched up my left hand, ripped off my glove, and peered at my ring finger. I was just about to start an abridged version of my speech when he hauled me (by the ring finger, for heaven's sake) across the hallway to Lana and waved my left hand in her face. I yanked my hand back, then, and gave him a glare. Being Jack, he didn't notice.
"Drinks are on you, baby," he crowed. Lana shook her head gently, and her hair glinted as it swung against the sides of her face. She grinned at Jack, and then at me. "I told you," Jack went on. "I told you she stayed in Scotland for New Year's because she had a man."
"You did not," Lana laughed. She looked at me, and I imagine I was gaping back at her. Jack had known? He can't have. "Anna, don't listen to him. He said he thought you were dating someone."
"Married is close enough," Jack declared. I snorted.
"What was the bet?" I asked Lana, as I was pretty sure Jack would make himself look more like a prophet than he was.
"Drinks for tonight," she said. She finished unwinding her jewel-toned scarf from her neck and handed it to Jack, who, I noticed, already had his hand out to take it. I wasn't surprised about them at all. When I'd arrived at Jack's she'd been there, and she'd told me herself that Jack had told her I was a witch. She didn't mind. She really, actually, didn't mind.
"Scotch all around then?" I teased. Lana smiled at Jack, and he smiled back. Once he'd stowed both their coats he turned around, and I realized they were almost dressed alike. Yes, this was all going well.
"I think so. It's too damn cold for cocktails," Lana declared. Without another word from either of us, Jack headed for the side bar to pour the drinks. He even walked different. I know it sounds stupid, but he did. You could look at him and know he was happy—not just smiling. Happy.
I stopped to kick off my grimy boots before I stepped onto Jack's living room carpet. Lana went before me and sprawled on the settee Jack inherited from our grandmother. I know this sounds stupid, too, but it was good to see her there on the family furniture. I guess what I mean is this: too many of the girls Jack dated only wanted him because he was an Arthur. They were the kind of women who would look at an old settee like that and get stuck on how much it was worth. They'd never think to just sit on it and get comfortable. You know? I flicked my eyes over to Jack and found him looking at her too. At times like these I like to imagine Jack thinks what I think.
"All right, Pix. Enough mystery, witch."
"Jack," Lana admonished. He handed me my drink first, maybe as a peace offering and maybe as a way to avoid Lana's scolding look. I grinned at him.
"No, it's fair," I announced. I punched the throw pillow between my hip and the arm of the sofa and tucked my feet up beside me. "Fire away."
"Who is he?" Lana blurted. She paused and looked at me for a second. "I mean, if that's what you want to say first. I think you won't get out of the room without spilling all of it, though."
"Yeah, Pix. You know I'll just get you drunk enough." Jack lowered himself onto the floor in front of Lana and leaned back against a pillow she shoved behind him. She rested her hand on his shoulder, and he briefly put his hand over hers.
"Okay, okay," I laughed. "No threats, all right? Ask away, like I said."
"Who is he?" Lana repeated.
"He's Harry Potter, and I've taken his last name."
"Anna Potter. Damn, that's weird." Jack muttered. Lana gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Jack, did you tell Lana about the war?" I lifted my eyebrows at Jack, and he nodded as he swallowed a sip of his drink. Lana nodded as well, her face sad. "Well, Harry was the child Voldemort tried to kill."
"Holy shit, Pix!" Jack's eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. Lana gave Jack a light slap on the shoulder and nodded at me.
"He works for the Ministry now, as an Auror." Jack opened his mouth, and I held up my hand. "It's like a CIA agent, kind of."
"He's a spy?"
"No, Jack." I peered at the ceiling for a minute, trying to find the words. "I guess he's more like an FBI agent." Lana gave me an encouraging nod. I took a slow sip of my drink and tried to answer the question they weren't asking. "He is okay. He had to kill Voldemort when he was just a teenager, and he'd never say it was easy, but he's all right. He's sane."
"So how'd you meet him?" Lana put a bright tone in her voice, though her eyes still looked a little unnerved.
"That's a better story," I laughed. And against my better judgment, really, I told them the whole truth. I told them about the marriage law, and about the twins' attempts to set me up. I told them about Byron and the house in the woods, and how there was a creepy room in the basement. In fact, it was the most I'd ever told Jack about the wizarding world in one sitting. By the time I realized that, Jack and Lana both looked tired, and the booze was almost tapped.
"So what now, Pix?" Jack drawled. "Do we ever meet this Harry Potter?"
"I don't have to go," Lana said quickly, giving her head a comical shake.
"I want you to," I declared. "I want you and Jack and Max to come meet everyone. I don't want to have two families." Jack wrinkled his forehead, and Lana's eyebrows drew down. "I just want one, with all of you in it," I clarified. "I don't care that you aren't magical."
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The next morning I became Jack's hero. I produced three vials of hangover potion from my traveling case, and doled them out to each of us. Jack's face brightened instantly, and he shot up from the kitchen table with a look of purpose about him. I squinted in his direction.
"I'm getting us tickets to London." Lana brought in three mugs of coffee and set them down on the table. Jack snatched his up and strode over to his phone.
"Get a hotel, too, hon," she reminded. Jack nodded, already waiting for the travel agent to answer. I turned to Lana.
"You really could stay with us," I began. She shook her head.
"Jack told me he visited you once and couldn't turn the lights off."
"Oh yeah," I laughed. "He couldn't unlock his door, either." Jack shot me a look while he sat on hold. Lana and I started cracking up as quietly as possible, but I'm pretty sure the travel agent could hear. Fortunately for him we were interrupted by the arrival of a barn owl. I wrenched open the kitchen window with some difficulty, and the owl gave me an irritated glare when it swooped in to land on the faucet. I handed it a crust and untied a small package and a scroll from its leg.
"That's the owl post, isn't it?" Lana's excitement reminded me of the first-year kids at Hogwarts, and I grinned at her.
"Yes. That one was a delivery owl, not a personal one." I untied the string around the package and started to unfold the brown paper around it.
"We're on for two days from now, babe," Jack announced. "I'm going to call work on my office phone. You can use my cell if you want." He shoved the phone across the table next to her mug and winked at her. She smiled at his back as he walked toward his office, then turned back toward me.
"Is it from Harry?" She pried. I chuckled.
"I don't know yet," I said. I'd been in America for a while before I got up the nerve to go see Jack and Lana. Actually, I'd taken the week to be with Harry after our wedding. I'd then returned to Hogwarts for the rest of term, where, according to Hermione, I 'avoided the subject' of telling my family. I then spent a week with Norm before finally going to New York. Jack and Lana, of course, weren't aware of this saga. But everyone at home was.
I flicked open the scroll and was only a little surprised to find Ginny's scrawl on the inside. There was about a paragraph of greetings from everyone I knew in the UK, then this: I've sent some bits of fabric. Don't you dare come back without choosing one. I've got to get your dress made for your reception, and everything else depends on your dress. But don't worry—once you've chosen a fabric, I'll do everything else.
I let out a little choking noise. Lana gave me a worried look. Then I started laughing. I explained Ginny's demand and we cracked open the parcel of fabric swatches. We'd just chosen one when Jack returned, having made all the arrangements for their visit.
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I arrived at Hogwarts that evening to find Harry fast asleep on a chair in my study. His glasses had sunk down his nose and one side of his hair was flared upward. I snuck over to the side of the chair and was bending down to kiss his forehead when his arm shot out around my waist and pulled me over the arm of the chair. I landed in an undignified heap and floundered around trying to right myself while Harry laughed.
"Little help here…" I grunted.
"Like this?" Harry shot to his feet, picking me up like a new bride. I squealed and grabbed his collar.
"What's gotten into you?" I squirmed. He tightened his grip.
"I missed you." He dropped a kiss on my collarbone. "Hang on," he commanded. I looped my arms around his neck just in time; he dropped the arm that had been holding up my shoulders and fished out his wand. He shut the floo and locked my chambers, then looked at me as though I should congratulate him for being clever. I raised an eyebrow at him.
"What are you doing at Hogwarts, anyway?" I teased. He started to stride toward my bedroom.
"I knew you'd be too tired to come home," he paused to kick the door open a bit farther before angling us so we'd fit through the doorframe.
"But you were too tired to come here," I protested. He set me on the bed and sat beside me. I ran my fingers through the most chaotic section of his hair. I guess I was undercutting my protests by grinning at him like I was, but I decided after we'd been married for two weeks that I'd stop caring about that kind of thing. It's for the best. I smile at him a lot. Really a lot.
I gave him a quick kiss and slid off the bed, pulling the pins out of my hair as I went. I heard him stand, then felt his fingers join mine as I took out my braids. I closed my eyes as he ran his hands through my hair. "Don't fall asleep standing up," he teased.
"Can't," I murmured. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. "I spent ages in the New York apparition office today; I feel disgusting." His quiet laugh followed me as I walked into the bathroom, shedding clothes along the way. "What about you?"
"What do you mean?" I barely heard his response over the shower I'd just started. I could hear his clothes piling on the bathroom floor, then the tap of his glasses frames against the countertop. He slid in behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist.
"Why were you asleep in my chair?" I didn't bother twisting to face him. Instead I brought my hand over to his and traced the arc of his wedding band with the tip of my finger. The palm side of it was cool against the skin of my waist.
"Long day." I tensed, and he leaned down to kiss my neck. "No, I did not hurt my shoulder."
"Is everything all right?" I turned to face his chest and craned my neck back to see him. He gave me a crooked and tired grin. "It's not the press…"
"No," he soothed. He reached behind me and started to wash my hair. We'd got into the habit of showering together during that first week at the house, and I could barely keep my eyes open as he went through the familiar motions. He was practically holding me up by the time he finished rinsing all the conditioner from my hair.
"Love?" His voice was gentle and close to my ear. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and pulled them open. He gave me another tired grin.
"M'sorry…" I muttered. He shook his head. I pulled myself fully upright and managed to get myself dry and in one of Harry's old shirts, but stopped short of drying my hair. I curled tight against Harry's chest between the chilly sheets and peered up at him. He looked a little humored, and I could tell he was watching me nearly fail to keep my eyes open. "Can't stay awake," I managed at last.
"It's all right," he drew his thumb down my hairline and over the edge of my ear, then tilted my head up toward him. He flicked his eyes over my face, then kissed me deeply. He'd waited, I knew. He pulled back and smirked at me. "I'll just wake you up early tomorrow," he leered. I didn't even manage to elbow him before I fell asleep.
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Before anyone gets skittish, allow me to reassure you that there will be flashbacks to cover some of the high points during the end of term. Never fear. And while you're at it, please drop me a review if you're still reading.
