32 - Car
"I should head back," Harry said, interrupting the soft sounds of barely repressed yawns and the rustling of pages that filled the Spice Shop that was pretty much their base of operations these days. Nick's trailer was for emergencies, but most of the time he just brought over books for them to research together here. But they'd been at it for a while now, it was getting late and the wizard doubted anyone would be having a breakthrough any time soon. "I still need to do some preparations for tomorrow's baking," he added.
"You can take my car," Monroe offered, "I can get a ride with Nick and pick it up tomorrow morning." Then immediately added in a rush, "but drive carefully! It's a classic."
The man started digging out the keys and Harry frowned dubiously when Monroe held them out to him. It was a show of trust, he supposed, while he stared at the keys as if they were a foreign creature. "I can't drive," he said slowly.
That admission drew the attention of not just Monroe, but also the others.
"You can't drive?" Hank asked what they were clearly all thinking.
And yes, maybe it was strange here, in Portland, in the US. But it wasn't that out there, there were plenty of people who didn't have a driver's licence – and not just in the Wizarding World, but also in London proper.
So he shrugged, trying not to feel like the outsider that he very much was. "I don't have a license."
When the silence stretched he explained - in a bid to forge past the feeling of embarrassment that snuck up on him. "I never needed one," Harry said, then he considered that thought and corrected "Well, except perhaps that one time, when a mate and I missed the train and figured we would take his father's car to our boarding school instead."
Harry smiled at the memory now, despite the fact that it had been a rather terrifying experience at the time – both the flying car ride and the fear of getting expelled. "We crashed it into a tree."
"Ok," Monroe said, abruptly closing his hands around his keys again and drawing them back to his chest protectively, "How about I drive you home instead? It's probably a good idea to pick this up again at a saner time anyway."
"I wouldn't crash it now, you know," Harry defended himself, in an attempt to assure his friend that his trust wasn't in any way misplaced. "We were twelve."
They'd been twelve and so very young and foolish and brave. Was it wrong to miss those days - to miss that uncomplicated friendship even now, years and worlds away?
"You crashed a car into a tree when you were twelve?" Nick asked incredulously, to clarify the situation. Right, that wasn't very legal. The wizard eyed the detective and found himself wondering if the fact that the car had been modified to fly would make it better or worse in the eyes of the law.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time?" he tried. In his defence, it was rather late at night and his brain wasn't fully engaged anymore, so that was really the best justification he could come up with right now.
"I am definitely driving," Monroe repeated.
"Good idea," Nick agreed just as emphatically.
Rosalee nodded solemnly, but there was a laughing warmth in her eyes that betrayed her next words as gentle teasing, "I knew you didn't have a car, but I didn't think it was because you were a danger to yourself and those around you – not to mention the poor trees."
"He was the one behind the wheel," Harry tried once more, despite knowing it was useless. There was no arguing with these people when they got like this.
To prove his point, Nick demonstrably stood up. "Nope," the man said cheerfully, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and steering him outside, right up to the passenger's side of the wolf's small car. "You just sit tight and let Monroe take you home. We're pretty much done for today."
While Nick was being slightly obnoxious about it, Hank just chuckled lightly and smiled at him, "Never knew you had it in you, Harry. Be careful, though, because we're definitely watching you now."
The eyes on him weren't judging at all, though – just warm and fond. And these friendships were nothing like those of his childhood, nothing like the Golden Trio. Life was so much more complicated now then it was back when he was twelve and full of hope and so very certain about anything that mattered - about what was right, what was important.
He wasn't a boy anymore, desperate for friendship and willing to take a chance on trust. He held both more fears and less than back then and knew now that life was never easy or certain. But at times like this - being teased and laughed at and bundled into a car by well-meaning hands - it didn't feel very complicated at all.
(Word count: 850)
