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 Forty-Six: Leaving on a Jet Plane

The last week and a half of Harry's winter term passes by in a blur of tests, reports, and project deadlines. The next thing he knows, school's out for Spring Break, and Dorea and Charles are ready to return to Britain. James is heading back with them, not only to ensure his parents make it back in one piece, but also to attend the funeral of an old friend and former colleague, Alistair Moody*.

Meanwhile, Harry's got two days until he and his Euro Challenge team members are due to make their way to Columbus for their State Finals. The plan is to drive down with his mum, Lily, who has promised to allow him some time behind the wheel, but with so much other matters to concern himself with, Harry can't muster up as much enthusiasm for the prospect as he would otherwise.

He's a wreck, actually, nervous about the Euro Challenge, worried about his family, wrung out after his last two weeks of school - and he's more or less ready to sleep away the rest of his year. Kate's in similar shape, for mostly identical reasons, and it is, therefore, no surprise that they've started taking all their stress out on each other in loud, frequently scathing ways.

The thing about having a sister so close in age is that Kate always knows his weaknesses, and in an argument, she has no qualms about using them against him. Admittedly, it goes both ways, but it doesn't make Kate's words hurt any less, and at the end of the day, making her cry just makes him feel like an ass.

In any case, Harry's taken to just avoiding her. Their parents and grandparents probably appreciate the ceasefire, but quite frankly, Harry just doesn't have it in him to maintain a grudge against his sister. He's tried over the years - God, has he tried - but Harry's never been able to forget that Their are always others who deserve his ire a lot more than her, and at the end of the day, he and Kate are family, and that's important. Not everyone thinks so, but Harry does, and it's not something he'll soon forget.

It's such that he's sprawled out on the couch in the entertainment room the evening of term's end, attempting to distract himself with another viewing of 'A New Hope' and determinedly avoiding thoughts of, well, everything. He's been invited to a few end of term parties, but the last thing Harry wants to do is socialise with people, and he's not the only one. Kate's hammering away at the piano, venting the only way she's ever really been able to, and not even the floors and walls between them can drown out the sound of her emotional outpouring.

"No plans for tonight?"

"Didn't feel like it," Harry shrugs. His dad shifts his feet from the end of the couch, and Harry sits up with a begrudging sigh. The man sits in the space subsequently freed, and briefly contemplates the novel Harry had set on the end table earlier.

As fond of the franchise he is, 'Star Wars' had not been Harry's first resort for distraction.

"The Grapes of Wrath?"

Harry shrugs. "Why not?"

"What do you think?"

"I couldn't say," Harry answers, "Haven't gotten very far."

His dad sets the book aside, considers the film playing out on the TV in front of them, and observes, "I can't remember the last time you didn't have plans for a Friday night."

Harry scowls. "So, what, you want me to go?"

"That's not what I said, Harry," James sighs wearily. He's always tired these days, and Harry sardonically wonders if he regrets starting the conversation. "I just wanted to know if everything's all right with you."

"I'm fine."

He's really, truly not.

-!- -#-

Charles, Dorea, and James leave on Saturday evening. They all make the trip to Dayton, squeezed together in James' Escalade, and the drive lasts an age.

"You'll take care of yourselves, won't you?" Kate pleads.

"Don't worry about us, Katherine," Dorea replies. "We'll be just fine."

Harry bites his tongue. He understands his grandparents have responsibilities in Britain they can't avoid forever, not the least of which is Peverell Industries, but damn, he wants them to.

Unfortunately, it's not just their professional commitments that motivates their return to Britain. Charles and Dorea are both exceedingly proud, and neither of them can abide by the thought that they've been chased from their homeland by a nameless, faceless danger. They'd tried, and it had chafed at them both for weeks and months on end.

In some respects, Harry can understand it. He's stubborn and proud too, in his own way, but he doesn't want it to be like this.

He doesn't want his grandparents to die for their pride, or duty, or whatever else it is that gives them the strength and courage to return to a place in which someone wants them both dead.

As Harry hugs them both, his grandparents somehow seem even frailer than when they'd arrived.

Once more, he's reminded that they're not getting any younger, and he doesn't want to lose them as he'd lost Grant and Rosemary Evans.,

"Best of luck with your presentation," Charles gives Harry an encouraging smile, "I'm sure you'll do well."

"I hope so."

"Look after yourself," Dorea adds, "We're very proud of you."

Harry's not sure what he's done to be deserving of their pride, but he doesn't admit that. Instead, he hugs them both once again, and slings an arm over Kate's shoulder as their own father approaches them, and as Kate tries hard not to cry.

"Best of luck with the Challenge," James claps Harry on the shoulder, and then tugs both of his children in for a hug, "Take care of yourselves, you two. I'll be back soon. Look after your mum, as well."

"We will," Kate swipes roughly at her cheeks, "Make sure Nain and Taid will be safe."

"I will."

They part, and his parents embrace. It lingers, longer than is probably socially acceptable, and certainly long enough for Harry and Kate to feel awkward about it, but his father and grandparents' flight is called to board, and they part reluctantly. They retreat down the air-bridge soon thereafter, and disappear out of sight.

Harry, Kate, and their mother linger until the plane's taxied down the runway, far out of sight, and then slowly make their way out of the airport.

"Do you want to drive home, Harry?"

Harry nods. He's still new to it, but he's gotten pretty comfortable thus far, and quite frankly, his mother looks like she's about to burst into tears. It's been a long time since his father was part of MI-5, and she's grown comfortable and complacent in their regular, if not entirely 9 - 5 jobs. The throwback to wherein her husband's life was often at risk is jarring, evidently, and she's not coping well.

Kate certainly isn't, and if Harry's honest with himself, he's not, either.

They'll be okay though - they all will. Anything less doesn't bear consideration.