Growing Pains

Harry sat in a large waiting room, flipping through a magazine, but his attention was on the little girl sitting next to him. Her eyes bounced from object to object and person to person, narrowing as they fell upon the other children in the room. She frowned at two boys playing with colorful beads, pulling them through swirling metal wire, back and forth without end. She turned to him, mouth open, but as she caught his eyes on her, her lips snapped closed, and she glared. With a harrumph, she whipped her head away, black hair swinging into her face. She pushed it away roughly, then crossed her arms.

Harry rolled his eyes. She had been giving him the silent treatment since he laughed at her.

"Mara!" a young woman called out, standing in a doorway next to the receptionist's desk. She held a clipboard and scanned the room.

Mara jumped at her name, eyes snapping to the woman, then back to him. Harry tossed his magazine onto a table and stood, waving towards the nurse. Mara quickly scooted off the chair, landing wobbly on the floor, so he put his hand on her shoulder to steady her. She pouted at him but didn't comment, whether out of gratitude or stubbornness to keep silent, he could only guess. But he expected the latter.

The nurse knelt down as they approached. She smiled at Mara, "Hello, my name is Sarah and I'll be your nurse today. What's your name?"

Mara furrowed her brows, then looked up at Harry with a frown. He cleared his throat, "She doesn't speak English."

"Oh, I see," the nurse replied, seemingly unphased. She gave Mara a bright smile and stuck her hand out.

Mara stared at it, frown deepening. He nudged her with his leg and said, "Grab her hand."

She stuck her hand out and grabbed Sarah's palm from above, holding it with just the tips of her fingers. He barely held back a snort, but Sarah just shook her hand as if all was well. He admired her nonchalance.

After taking her weight and height, 30 pounds and 42 inches, Sarah led them to a room. The walls were decorated with vibrant murals of a jungle inhabited by cute chubby animals. Harry lifted Mara onto a large metal bed. Its rubber mattress was lined with a coarse sheet of paper, and she started as it crinkled under her. She rubbed her hands over it with a frown, then peered around the room. Her feet dangled off the edge of the bed as she gazed at a tiger sleeping in a tree.

"That's an interesting language you two speak," Sarah said as she washed her hands. "What is it?"

Harry dropped into a chair next to the bed, "It's called Slytherin, few people speak it."

"Learn something new every day," she smiled as she pulled a pair of gloves on. "Could you translate my instructions for me?"

"Of course," Harry said.

Mara grew increasingly distressed as she was prodded with a thermometer, stethoscope, and ear probe, and forced through a slew of other physical tests. By the time Sarah left, Mara had turned her glare onto the ever-smiling nurse. She said, "I don't like her."

Harry snorted, "You're speaking to me now?"

"Stop laughing at me then," she said, turning away.

"Fine," he huffed. "I'm sorry for laughing at you."

Mara harrumphed and kept her attention on the mural. Harry stared at her as she gazed at two colorful parrots perched on a branch which a monkey hung from. She turned back, pouting, "What's magic?"

Harry frowned and ran his fingers through his hair, "I don't understand how the link between us works. You seem to understand some things just fine, but others not at all. How can you understand your own creation, but not know of magic?"

Her face scrunched up, "I remember searching our link to understand what was happening before I was severed away. But now, I can't do that." She closed her eyes, "I can sense knowledge flowing through still. At first, it was a bunch all at once, but now it's slow."

Harry hummed and leaned forward, "What kind of knowledge?"

"Like walking… Oh and I know that going into fire should hurt, but it didn't hurt your mean friend and it's not supposed to be green."

"Mean friend?" Harry chuckled. "She only took a little blood."

She crossed her arms, "I don't like her or the smiling lady."

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back. It seemed the girl didn't just know everything he did. He rubbed his chin, "Magic is hard to explain. It means many different things. To people like me and my friend, a wizard and witch, it's a part of us. We're born with it, or at least, access to it. But magic is also everywhere. It's a fundamental part of the world. Just as Life and Death. My friend used it to travel a far distance quickly, but we can use it to do all manner of things. The possibilities are nearly endless."

Mara's eyes were wide, and she leaned towards him, "Can you show me?"

"Later," Harry said. Then continued as her face fell, "I promise. It's not wise to use it in the muggle world, especially in a hospital. It tends to effect electronics poorly."

"Muggle world?"

"Muggles are people who don't know about or have magic. Magicals live separate from them."

"Why?"

"It's safer," he frowned. "Some muggles don't like magic, and some would exploit it. In the past, we were not separate, but it became dangerous for magicals, so we hid away and created the magical world."

"Why?"

Harry huffed but was saved from answering by a knock on the door. It swung open and a woman with thin grey hair stepped inside. She held a clipboard and wore a stern face, reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.

Harry snapped straight in his seat at her voice, "Mr. Potter, your. . . ward is in good health, but her weight is low. Increase her meal size for a few weeks and if it remains an issue, make an appointment so we can ensure there isn't a deeper issue. Any other concerns?"

"Uhm, just the blood test," Harry said.

"Right," she said, peering at the clipboard. "I'll need a sample from both of you and the results should be ready in a few days. We will call you."

"Why so long?" he frowned.

"The samples must be transported and processed in a laboratory. There are many samples tested every day. It will take time." She rolled her eyes. "It's not magic."

He coughed, "Of course, my apologies."

"We'll start with your sample, it tends to ease children to see an adult go through the process first. Trade places."

Mara was not eased. After many tears and hisses of dislike, they walked out of the hospital, both sporting small bandages in the crook of their elbows. Harry didn't enjoy it either. Between the graveyard ritual and writing lines with a blood quill, he'd developed a rather strong possessiveness for his blood. He looked down at the frowning girl and said, "You know, I don't like her either."

Mara started and looked up. She looked away and nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.

—

"What is it?" Mara said, staring at a small bowl filled with a gooey white substance.

"Ice cream," Harry said, lifting a spoon of it into his mouth. He swallowed and grinned, "I thought we could both enjoy a treat after our harrowing hospital experience."

"Oh," she said, unsteadily lifting a spoon of it into her mouth. Her eyes widened, then her face scrunched up. She quickly swallowed and said, "It's cold!"

"It is," Harry chuckled. "It's good though, right?"

"You should have warned me," she pouted, but scooped more onto a spoon.

Harry watched as Mara made a mess of her face, scoop after scoop. She seemed unphased by the mess as she scanned the other patrons in the parlor. When her spoon scooped up nothing, she frowned at her empty bowl and pushed it away. Her eyes returned to the room, narrowing as they flickered from person to person. She turned to him, "How come no one wants to look at us?"

"Ah, you noticed that did you? It's a spell. Gives us a little more privacy. Your nurse might not have thought much of Parseltongue, but it's best not to stand out too much."

"Spell?"

"Hmm, it's a type of magic that wizards and witches use. We take magic and imbue an intent on it, then we get certain effects. Spells can do a lot of things, make things float, create light, or like this one, make people ignore you."

"I don't like it," she said, frowning at the room.

He furrowed his brows, "Why not?"

"It's not nice to be ignored."

Harry frowned. He wondered if memories of being Death had created the desire, perhaps driven by pride, she did seem to have that in spades. Though fear seemed just as likely. She must have been terrified when becoming aware, alone in a world of nothing and no one but herself. In the end, she even mutilated her own being to escape. Seeing her sitting tense, he pushed the concerns aside and said, "Alright, just let me clean your face and I'll drop the spell."

Mara rubbed her hand across her lips and looked at her ice cream-stained palm with a frown. Harry kept his hand behind his bowl and flicked his wand out. He gave it a discreate swish, and the mess of ice cream vanished from her face and hands. She started as it vanished, "Was that a spell?"

"Yes, a cleaning spell." Harry said, giving his wand a final flick before slipping it away.

"How come I couldn't feel anything?"

"Not all spells can be felt, but if you practice, you can learn to sense magic a little."

"Oh," she said, looking back to the room, where a few people looked at the two of them with furrowed brows. She seemed to relax at their stares and turned back to her bowl. She said, "I want more."

"Not today," Harry chuckled. "We still have some things to do. We should get going."

She pouted but followed him out of the parlor. They stepped onto a busy street, and Harry kept his hand on her shoulder as they moved with the crowd. They walked a few blocks before stepping into a clothing store. After awkwardly explaining to the store clerk, a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair, that Mara only had the clothes on her back, the woman spent two hours pushing Mara in and out of a changing room. The woman managed to hold enough enthusiasm for three people, which worked out well because neither Mara nor himself wanted to be there after the first fifteen minutes.

By the time they walked out, Harry laden with bags, Mara's eyes had grown heavy and her steps less stable. He led them to an alleyway and shrunk the bags into his pocket. Mara seemed to get a burst of energy at the display, but her shoulders slumped as he led them back to the street. She shot him a few glances as they walked, mouth opening only to press shut into a thin line. As she started to slow, he peered down at her with a frown, "You okay?"

She nodded jerkily and tried to walk faster but tripped over her own feet. His hand shot out to steady her, then he scooped her up into his arms and leaned her against his shoulder, "Don't force yourself, I can carry you."

She stiffened, then relaxed and pressed her face into his chest, "Tired."

Harry shook his head and smiled, then set off down the street.

By the time he finished shopping, his smile had long fallen. Mara slept peacefully, unaware, and uncaring of his aching arms. Even with a spell to lighten her, his back felt one bad turn away from a cramp. He slipped into an alleyway and spun in place, vanishing with a quiet pop. He appeared in front of his house. Mara grumbled but remained asleep. He huffed. How anyone could sleep through apparation was a mystery to him. He carried her to the couch and gently laid her down. His muscles rebelled at the action, and he let out a groan as he straightened.

"Where are we," Mara mumbled from below him. She pushed herself up and rubbed her eyes, peering around the room. His eye twitched. Now she wakes up. His shoulders slumped.

"We're home," Harry said, dropping heavily onto the couch next to her. He flicked his wand out and with a few swishes, the contents of his pockets burst out. They enlarged and floated around the house, some up the stairs, some into the kitchen, and some into a pile by the couch.

Mara's eyes were wide as she watched the bags of clothes, boxes of furniture, piles of toys, and sacks of food swirl around the room. Harry felt the irritation drain out of him. He smiled, "It's incredible, right?"

"Yeah," she murmured, but then a loud grumble sounded out, and she rubbed her stomach with a frown. She didn't quite meet his eye as she turned to him, "I'm hungry."

He chuckled at her hesitance. She didn't seem to like asking for his help. He hefted himself off the couch with a groan and said, "I'll make us dinner." He lifted a bag of toys and placed them next to her, "It'll be a bit before it's done. You can play with these while I cook."

As Harry prepared dinner, in a kitchen open to the living room, he peered in on Mara occasionally. She pulled out the various toys from the bag; wooden blocks, baby dolls, stuffed animals, plastic tools, fake hospital gear, and anything else that he thought would entertain a child. She peered at them with furrowed brows, save the hospital toys, which she threw aside with a huff. She inspected the rest, with all the careful consideration a child could manage, turning them this way and that, poking and prodding, and if they were lucky, even a few sniffs and once, a lick. That final one earned a startled shout of "Don't put that in your mouth!" from Harry.

He continued dinner with a much closer eye on the girl. She gave up on the toys quickly, turning her attention on the mundane living room instead. This development did little to ease him. He nearly burned himself when she stumbled too close to the corner of the center table for his liking, and moments later when he quickly pulled her away from the fire, which she insisted she was just looking at, his pot boiled over, releasing an unpleasant screech as the water splashed onto the hot stovetop. He quickly lowered the heat and stirred the pasta, letting out a sigh of relief that got caught in his throat as he turned to find her climbing onto an end table to inspect the lamp.

With the speed honed by years of hunting, he crossed the house and hoisted her up just as she began to tip backwards. He carried her to the kitchen and dropped her on a chair still transfigured to be taller from her breakfast. With a glare, he pulled the chair in towards the table, essentially trapping her in the seat. She grumbled but stayed put. He continued dinner peacefully, shooting the girl less and less looks. And by the end, when he was sure she'd stay put, he put his full attention on preparing their plates. But as he laid the chicken across the pasta, he felt his hairs stand on end. He whipped around to find an empty chair. He stiffened, "Mara!?"

"What?" she huffed from under the table.

He slumped and rubbed his face. At least she was somewhere safe this time. He squatted down, "Can't you stay put for a few minutes? Wait, where did you get that?"

She sat cross legged, evidently having figured out that skill while he wasn't looking and rolled a metal bolt in her hand. She pointed at the base of the table, where three more bolts laid on the floor. Suddenly, under the table didn't seem so safe. He sputtered, "How did you even— Get out of there!"

Mara pouted and crawled out, bumping the table with her leg in the process; it wobbled yet held firm. But that did little to keep Harry's soul from leaving his body. He snatched the bolt from her and quickly crawled down to screw it and the others back in, reinforcing their hold with a spell just to be safe. When he crawled out and found her missing again, he wanted to cry.

After Harry hunted her down, he plopped her onto the chair with a sticking charm and growled, "Stay."

She glared at him and crossed her arms. Her glare fell into a pout as her stomach grumbled. He rolled his eyes and returned to their food, quickly cutting hers into small chunks before dropping the plate in front of her. Dredging up patience he didn't know he had, he taught her how to use her fork through a series of growls and huffs. He thought her ability to follow such instructions was a great testament to their supposed link existing at all.

"Are you finished?" Harry asked as Mara rolled a bit of pasta around her plate. With food in his stomach, he found speaking full sentences much easier. She nodded, so he scooped up both their plates and dropped them into the sink where a sponge scrubbed away at the pots, moving back and forth jerkily. He didn't have the same finesse with the spell as Mrs. Weasley, but it would get the job done.

He hefted Mara out of the chair and carried her to the living room, dropping her onto the only part of the couch not covered in discarded toys. He made space for himself and dropped next to her. She reached for a stuffed black dog he'd pushed away and dragged it back towards her. He rose a brow, "You like that one?"

She nodded and hugged it.

"What do you like about it?"

"I don't know."

He huffed, "Well, why don't you like the others?"

"Don't get it."

"Get what?"

"The point of them," she frowned.

"They're toys, you play with them."

"How?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn't certain. He'd been jealous of all of Dudley's toys, but only in-so-far as it was something that made his cousin happy. He just thought they must have been something good. He could recall playing with toys in muggle school, but those were vague and near illusory memories. Ron had some things, but they were old hand-me-downs, plus magical, nothing like the colorful plastics of the muggle world. He scratched his cheek, thinking of his time around Ron and Hermione's kids, "Uhm, you sort of just play make believe. Pretend you're doing more than you are. . ."

The look Mara graced him with made him feel tiny and foolish. He huffed and picked up a plastic hammer. She leaned forward to watch, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything with it. He spun it a few times, then coughed and set it aside. She leaned away with a frown, still hugging the dog. The room grew quiet, save the crackling flame in the fireplace.

The silence pressed on Harry, demanding he do something. His gaze flickered from toy to toy; they seemed to grow more absurd the longer he looked. He flicked his wand out, spells flashing through his mind; no burning or exploding – attacks or slashes are no good – no disarming or bindings – nothing fun about protective enchantments. He discarded spell after spell until he huffed and lifted his arm. He twirled his wand, and the wooden blocks rose off the couch, tumbling through the air in a crude circle around them. His gaze flicked to Mara. Her eyes trailed the floating cubes, a smile tugging at her lips. With a flick of his wand, one of the blocks stumbled towards her, passing by close enough for her to reach out and grab it with a giggle, hands finally leaving the dog.

Harry released a breath in relief. He continued to swirl the blocks in the air, their movements becoming smoother and more complex. Eventually, his arm grew tired, and Mara seemed to grow bored, her eyes flickering between him the blocks, no longer reaching for the cubes. He bit his lip, and his wand trailed an intricate pattern. The blocks thinned and elongated, shaping themselves into wooden butterflies. They gave a few half-hearted flaps of their wings, then fell out of the air. He stiffened, eyes shooting to Mara. She looked back at him, brows furrowed. He coughed and focused on one of the butterflies, dredging up all the will and intent he'd throw into a patronus. With a dramatic swish, the wood gave way to real wings, a vibrant blue spreading across them, and the butterfly took to the air, movements jerky but undeniably flying. He scratched his cheek, "I haven't tried that in years."

"It's pretty," she murmured, gazing at the insect that seemed increasingly crude the more he examined it.

They both started as the fireplace flared green. Ron's head appeared in the flames, "Harry! Can I come through?"

"Yeah," Harry called out. After Ron's head vanished, he turned to Mara, "My friend Ron is coming over."

Harry stood up just as the flames flared green again. Ron stepped out, patting ash off of himself. His eyes fell on Mara and he smiled wide, "Hello, you look like a little Harry!"

Harry stepped forward and coughed, "She doesn't speak English."

Ron waved him off and knelt down in front of the girl. He stuck his hand out, "My name is Ron."

Mara peered at the hand, then grabbed it from above, just as she had done earlier. Ron smiled and reached over with his other hand, adjusting her hold into the proper position, then shook it, "Hello, Mara."

"Eh-low," Mara stumbled out.

Harry gaped as Ron nodded with a grin, "Good."

Mara smiled and pulled her hand back to squeeze the dog.

"Oh," Ron drawled, pointing at the stuffed animal. "What have you got there? Do you like dogs?"

Mara looked down, her hair falling with the motion to block her view. She pushed it back roughly with a grumble, but a few locks still slipped back. Ron tapped her leg, and she looked up. He pulled a band off of his wrist, "Let me tie it up for you."

Mara stiffened as he gathered her hair and pulled it through the band, twisting the band and pulling the hair through again until it was tight. When he pulled away, she shook her head while reaching behind her head to feel the ponytail. She whipped back and forth a few times, her hair flinging about but not falling into her face.

"Good?" Ron said.

She nodded and smiled wide.

"Thanks," Harry said with pink staining his cheeks. "Do you uh, always have one of those on you?"

"Huh," Ron said, looking up. "Oh! Yeah, for Rosie. She's always losing hers."

"I see," Harry said, scratching his cheek, "Uhm, want some tea?"

"Yeah sure, mate," Ron said, eyes returning to Mara. He smiled and poked her cheeks. She swiped at his hand, but he pulled away and kept poking her until she let out a small giggle.

Harry frowned and walked into the kitchen with an unpleasant twist in his gut. He prepared the kettle, but half of his attention remained in the living room, where giggles sounded out.

When he returned to the living room, Mara was knelt on the floor with a small dog in front of her. It hopped around her excitedly, sniffing and licking her hands as she laughed. Ron squatted next to her, his wand directing the life-like dog. It barked and padded over to Harry. Mara gave chase, running into the corner of the center-table. Harry jerked, tea sloshing out of the cups he carried, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Mara said, continuing to chase after the dog as if she didn't just slam into a hard wood corner.

"No worries," Ron said. "I charmed the tables and floor. Won't hold long but should be safe for the night."

"Oh," Harry said, that twist in his stomach returning. "Uh, I got the tea."

"Thanks," Ron said, grabbing the tea while his other hand continued to direct the dog.

Harry dropped on the couch and watched Mara run about the room until her steps slowed, and she plopped onto the floor. The dog circled her a few times, then crawled into her lap. She giggled as it climbed up to lick her cheek. Harry caught a flash of movement to his side and turned just in time to watch his crude butterfly flutter into the fireplace. He choked on a sip of tea as it burst into flames.

"You alright?" Ron asked, peering over with a frown.

"Yes," Harry spit out through a cough. He placed his cup on an end table and leaned back with his arms crossed. His gut churned like a coiling snake.

Ron rose a brow but turned back to Mara. He put his own cup aside and joined the girl on the floor, grabbing a bag of plastic animals on the way. After directing the dog to lay next to Mara, he pulled out a pig and made oink noises while walking the figure down her arm and into her hand. He coaxed her into oinking for the pig, then joined her with a cow, mooing back. Before long, they had a zoo of animals. Mara growled while chasing Ron's deer with a tiger, giggling as he used his other hand to puppet a monkey riding the beast.

Harry watched with a frown, squeezing his arms tighter. Eventually, Mara's eyes grew heavy, and she began to sway. He swallowed down his discomfort and stood, "I need to set up her bedroom still. Can you keep an eye on her?"

"Yeah, sure," Ron said with a wave.

Harry tore his gaze away from them and headed up the stairs, his pounding steps muffled by the carpet. At the upper landing, he closed his eyes and took a breath, but the snake refused to uncoil in his gut. He huffed and stepped inside the spare room. It was mostly empty, save a stack of boxes in the back corner and his day's purchases sitting in the middle of the floor. His wand went to work, unboxing and assembling a twin-sized-bedframe, dresser, and desk. With his final few flicks, Mara's clothes were stored away, a small rectangle landed on the bedframe, bursting into a mattress, and sheets, a blanket, and a pillow settled over the bed.

When Harry returned to the living room, Ron held Mara in his arms, rocking her gently. She twisted back and forth in his hold and rubbed her eyes as she grumbled. Harry felt the snake twist tighter and tense, as if preparing to strike. His nostrils flared as he pulled in a long breath. He blew it out harshly, catching Ron's attention, and said, "Give her here."

Ron furrowed his brows and handed her over, "You alright, mate?"

"I'm fine," Harry said, spinning around. Mara settled in his hold as he carried her upstairs, Ron on their tail. As he laid her in the bed and wrapped the blankets around her, he found she still gripped the black dog in her hold, back to its stuffed animal form. He sat with her until her breathing evened out, trying to push down his rising irritation. He wasn't sure why but seeing the ease at which Ron interacted with her frustrated him. He couldn't seem to push it down, so he stood up and turned around to find Ron standing at the end of the bed with a smile.

Harry grabbed Ron's arm, the strength of his grip eliciting a quiet hiss of "What the hell," and dragged him out. He let go but didn't look at Ron as he made his way back downstairs. Ron followed with a huff. When they reached the living room, Ron spun him around, "What is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," Harry said, pushing away from him and dropping on the couch.

"You've gone mental," Ron said, throwing his hands up. "You've been acting strange all night!"

"Who's fault is that?" Harry spit out, crossing his arms.

"How am I supposed to know," Ron rolled his eyes as he dropped on the other end of the couch and turned to face Harry. "What's your deal, mate?"

Harry didn't reply.

"I thought you grew out of silent treatments after Hogwarts," Ron huffed. "Is this about Mara?"

Harry stiffened.

"It is, isn't it! Mate, you've got nothing to worry about. I was scared too when Rosie was born, but Hermione and I will help you out."

Harry glared at him, "I'm not afraid."

Ron rose a brow.

"Fine, I am," Harry spit out. "But that's not— I'm not— It's you that's annoying me."

"Me?" Ron frowned. "The hell did I do?"

Harry snapped his mouth shut.

"Oi!" Ron exclaimed, shooting a stinging charm. "Stop with the silent treatment."

"You…" Harry growled, rubbing his arm.

"Talk," Ron said, brandishing his wand.

Harry huffed and looked away. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His shoulders slumped, and he said, "I was with her all day, and I really started to buy into the whole, she's Death story. She just acted so odd. But then a couple minutes with you, and she's acting like any other kid. No different from Rosie or Hugo."

Ron didn't reply. Harry looked over and his eyes narrowed, "Why are you smiling?"

Ron's face bloomed into a full-blown grin. He held a hand over his mouth, muffling a laugh. He pointed at Harry and chuckled, "You're jealous."

"I am not!" Harry huffed.

"You totally are," Ron laughed, tears welling in his eyes. "You're jealous! Of me!"

"Piss off!" Harry spit out, firing a stinging charm.

Ron yelped through his laughter and held up his hands in surrender, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I'm not jealous!"

Ron snorted. He squinted at Harry, who sat with his jaw tense and his wand gripped tightly in his hand. He drawled, "Yeah, sure you're not."

"Do you want me to curse you," Harry growled.

"Go for it," Ron said, rubbing tears from his eyes. "You're just proving my point more. Look how mad you are." He snorted and stood up, then grinned at Harry, "I have to go to tell Hermione."

He spun in place, vanishing just before a spell flew through the space he had occupied.

Harry grumbled and crossed his arms, throwing himself into the back of the couch. He stewed, squeezing his arms tighter until his strength drained and he slumped. He rubbed his face and groaned, "I'm jealous."