Welcome to the Jungle

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Glee. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Part One: Fifteen

Chapter Twenty-Six: Vacation

The cabin his parents own, located in Breckenridge proper, is a three bedroom affair with an enormous kitchen and a cozy, rustic-style living room. It's a sight for sore eyes after 22 hours in the company of his parents, grandparents, and sister, and although the drive wasn't horrible as far as road trips go, it's not an experience he's particularly eager to repeat.

"Remember, we're having brunch with everyone else, so get some sleep in while you can. It'll be a long day, otherwise."

Mutely, Harry carries his grandparents' luggage into their room, and then drags his own things into the one he's required to share with Kate. It's fairly unremarkable, with a couple of single beds and a radiator in the corner, and Kate's already made herself comfortable on the bed nearest the window. SHe's awake, albeit barely, and she offers Harry a tired smile.

"It'll be good to see everyone."

"Yeah," Harry concurs.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin have been a part of their lives for as long as Harry can remember. They'd join the SAS and MI5 alongside James, had been named godfather to Harry and Kate, respectively,

Harry retreats into the bathroom to get changed into warmer pyjamas, and by the time he returns, Kate's passed out. He texts Quinn once he's comfortable, just a brief 'Made it. Hope you're okay.'

Unsurprisingly, Quinn doesn't reply. It's barely three in the morning in Colorado, two hours ahead in Ohio, and Quinn's not likely to surface until it's strictly necessary.

Harry wishes he has that luxury.

-!- -#-

They meet at a cafe near the centre of Breckenridge, the Blacks, the Lupins, and the Potters. Sirius and Remus seemed to have aged years since the summer, but their spouses, Marlene and Dora haven't changed much at all.

Greetings are exchanged, hugs and kisses on cheeks, and afterwards, Harry drops into the seat across from Leo, who nurses a cup of tea as though it's the elixir of life. Next to him, his sister, Ursa, falls into an animated conversation with Kate, and for them, it's as if no time has passed at all.

"How was the flight?" Harry greets his old friend.

"Too bloody long," Leo answers, exasperated. "And the jet-lag is a nightmare."

Over their food, conversation turns to other things - school and sports and what have you - and it's nice to catch up. Leo's a few months younger than Harry himself, so they've known each other forever. It's odd, because although they don't talk more than a few times throughout the year, Leo actually knows him better than most people Harry's met.

He can say the same for Ursa, who has featured in his memory as long as her older brother, and between the four of them, Harry and Kate and Leo and Ursa, there are hours upon hours, days upon days of time well spent, of games and fights and everything in between.

It's easy with them, free from the unending scrutiny of his peers, the expectations and all the rest of it, and Harry smiles to himself, content. He might miss Quinn, but he's going to enjoy the next 10 days.

-!- -#-

The holiday passes in a haze of early morning snowball fights with Leo, Kate, and Ursa, accompanied by 10 year olds Cassiopeia Black and Teddy Lupin, followed by daily sojourns to the Breckenridge Ski Resort. They ski for hours, and return as evening falls. Dinner is always an uproarious affair, and afterwards, they entertain themselves with board and card games, always accompanied by hot chocolate and all the trimmings, and it is idyllic.

Christmas is as well, but it's the only day that breaks from the routine. They don't meet up with the others to play in the snow, and instead, the Potters cluster around their faithful, plastic Christmas tree, and exchange gifts over mugs of tea, cocoa, or coffee. There are scones and crumpets for breakfast, with butter and cream and jam, and Kate's made up a playlist of tolerable Christmas songs. She calls it 'mood music', and they both tear into their presents without hesitation.

It's been a little different for the last few years, both of them finally old enough to appreciate the value of giving and receiving gifts. They no longer declare what they want - if they 'want' anything at all, that is - and thus their presents are a little more thoughtful, a little less frivolous, and they're appreciated all the same.

Afterwards, it's a group effort to prepare for Christmas lunch with the Blacks and Lupins, and they arrive in a group shortly before midday. Sirius, hysterically, is in a Santa costume, and even as he is mocked mercilessly for it by the adults and teenagers, the man is entirely shameless.

"God, I love your mum's food," Leo groans. He's loaded up a third serving of the roast turkey, stuffing, and the gratin, and he doesn't look to be slowing down. Harry has been a little less selective, but he's matched his friend plate for plate, and the others have begun to notice.

"Me too," Harry answers.

"How can you possibly eat so much?" Ursa asks. She looks appalled, and the sight is comical with a paper crown on her head.

"I'm a growing boy," Leo answers.

"Let them be, darling" Sirius interjects, jolly with drink, "It's Christmas."

"Yeah, Sa, let us be." Leo pulls a face at his sister, who sticks her tongue out at him in turn.

Naturally, the main course is followed up with dessert, and between the pudding, the assorted cakes, slices, tarts, tortes, and pies, it's enough to lead one to a diabetic coma. It's decadent and an unreal display of excess, and they'll probably be enjoying the leftovers for the remainder of the trip.

Harry can't bring himself to be upset by this, of course, and helps himself to another serving of treacle tart. It's rare that he has access to it - only ever on special occasions, or whenever he's in the UK - and thus, he savours every bite.

Of course, he's not exactly hungry. The appetisers had ensured that he wasn't starving when he'd sat down for lunch, and he'd eaten three plates of the main course since then, but in his family, eating to excess is more or less a prerequisite for a spectacular Christmas.

So is a post-lunch nap, and he's not the only one to indulge.

-!- -#-

When he wakes, it's to find the adults have migrated outside, bundled up on the outdoor furniture, kept warm by the gas heaters, blankets, and alcohol. Nearby, Leo's produced his guitar, playing an idle, mindless tune while Teddy and Cassie watch, enraptured.

"Oh, look, it's alive," Leo greets him. He's still got sleep creases on his face.

"Good to see you too, wanker."

Harry helps himself to a handful of Cadbury chocolates, brought from England, as he approaches the table, and briefly spends some time in conversation with the grown-ups. They're all intoxicated to one degree or another, and it's an entertaining few minutes before, eventually, someone brings the conversation around to another subject, and Harry is left to his own devices.

He returns to Leo, who has returned his attention to his guitar, and they sit in an easy, companionable silence as Leo plays, and as Harry replies to the text messages awaiting him on his phone.

"You've gotten good," Harry compliments.

"Thanks," Leo acknowledges, "The lessons are paying off, I guess."

"He plays all the time," Cassie contributes, "He joined a band, too."

"Oh?" Harry's a little intrigued, "What kind of band?"

"Covers, mostly," Leo shrugs. The tips of his ears are bright red. "Not like we're performing or anything. It's just… something to do, you know?"

Harry nods his acknowledgement. "You'll have to send me a recording, or something. A band's pretty mad."

Leo's noncommittal. "Maybe."

Leo's not an athlete. He used to play football (re: soccer) when they were younger, but that's more because everyone expected it of him, rather than any genuine interest in the sport. As he's grown older, his focus has turned more towards academics and the arts - theatre, in particular - and Harry's never really seen his friend quite so settled. He's still got the brooding artist thing going on, and an introverted personality that is so completely contradictory to anything and everything in the theatre, but he makes it work.

Better yet, no one begrudges him for his interests, and Harry's glad for it.

"Do you still play?" Leo asks.

Harry shrugs. "When I have time."

Kate drops into the seat beside Leo, her hair mussed and her eyes bleary. "Harry's barely home, so basically never."

"I've cut down my hours though, so I should have more free time, maybe."

"Have you picked out a car yet?" Leo queries.

"Depends on what's available, doesn't it? I'm getting a used one, so…"

"Understandable," Leo concedes.

Time passes, and evening falls. The teenagers retreat inside, accompanied by Teddy and Cassie, and Kate produces Twister from the games cupboard. It's a laugh, and as Harry fails spectacularly, he can forget - for a while - that Quinn's got plans to meet up with Finn the following day.

Normally, it wouldn't bother him, but normally, they wouldn't be alone, either. It's ridiculous and irrational, but Finn's already made it obvious that he's attracted to Quinn, and the thought of Quinn's undivided attention on the dumbass? It's grating.

Unfortunately, they're usual group is unable to join them for assorted reasons, and Harry's not about to express his displeasure at the situation. He might dislike it, but he's not about to tell Quinn whom she can and cannot see. Instead, he'll suck it up and accept it, and he'll, also, trust that Quinn's smart enough not to fall for any of Finn's bullshit.

It's all he can do, really.