Author's Commentary: So, fun news, my Doc now has 600 pages worth of story. The downside is that Year Four is STILL not done. At this rate it's going to be 15-20 chapters over my initial plan -_- Maybe worse, if the story gets carried away. So... that's a thing. Now, back to summer fluff/angst!
Sunday night was a subdued and cautious affair. Once the kids were secured back in their London home, Mary went off to the shops to find a set of pyjamas and day clothes for Harry while Jake kept them fed and pleasantly distracted.
The feeling of quiet trepidation continued on into the next morning. They had a filling hot breakfast, though their eyes would flit to the door at random times throughout the meal. It was just as dishes were being put away that the phone rang. The three Bennetts and Potter jumped at the ring, but Mary eased the others' concern as she answered the phone.
"Hullo, Bennett residence." The children subconsciously leaned forward, hoping to hear the quiet voice on the other side. Mary's side of the conversation was short and sweet. A "yes" here, a question there. Melissa drummed her fingers along the counter as they waited for the call to end.
"Good. That's good. ...Alright. I'll let them know. Goodbye." Mary hung up the phone, breathing a sigh and warming to a relieved smile. "That was John. Petunia was just at their door. The plan worked perfectly. Even the children had kept themselves quiet about Harry."
"And Petunia?" Jake asked.
"Disturbed was the word John used." She smiled with a flit of something mischievous. "She apologized and claimed she must have had the wrong house."
The description had Melissa grinning, meeting the face of Harry's hopeful smile.
"Then I'm fine, right?" Harry asked. "They won't come looking for me?"
"They might." Mary replied, though her smile remained warm as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "But they won't be looking for you here."
Harry looked visibly relieved. Melissa celebrated the moment by giving the boy a one-armed hug. "Perfect! Now you're with us for good!"
Harry chuckled. "You mean until Uncle Sirius comes by to pick me up?"
Melissa smiled with dark-slitted eyes. "Baby, even with Sirius you're still with us. No more Dursleys. No more pretending your life is sunshine in a dark closet. You're out! You're free!" She turned him a quarter 'round and placed her hands on each shoulder. "And, now, we celebrate!"
For the first time in ages, Harry had fun. Good, honest, fun, without the spectre of his home on Privet Drive to shadow it over. The morning was spent dancing to a rock album, playing board games, and happily chatting about nothing and anything that came to mind. It seemed like, any time the shadow of fear tried to come over him, his witchy friend would pull him aside, spin him around or tickle him or tell a joke; and, like magic, the fear was forgotten.
After lunch he got a better tour of her house, mainly the den, music room, and her bedroom. Spotting the unpacked set of textbooks, Harry found himself asking after them. Melissa was happy to oblige the boy, and let him peruse the textbooks, with only a word of advice to go for the books on potions, history, and defence as he was "better off reading them than waiting on the professor to teach it". He looked at the collection curiously, ultimately grabbing the defence book and opening it to the first chapter.
While he was busy reading, he noted the sound of music coming from elsewhere in the house. That was also when he noticed that there was no one else in the room. Placing a sheet of paper in the book as an impromptu bookmark, he shut the textbook and brought it down with him. Following the sound into the music room, he found Melissa there sitting at the piano. Her face stared intently at a book in front of her, while her fingers played along on the keys. The song sounded old and fancy. Harry watched as she played, her face squinting and screwing up whenever her fingers slipped onto the wrong key. When the song finished, she seemed to grumble something under her breath.
"Something wrong?" He asked.
The question made her jump a little. "Oh, Harry. I didn't realize you were there. Done already?"
"Just taking a break." He replied nonchalantly. He walked over and glanced at the book. It was sheet music that seemed complicated to him. "What are you playing?"
"Handel's Aria in G." She frowned as she answered. "Mostly, anyways."
"What do you mean?"
Melissa sat back and scratched the back of her head. "Nothing. Just… It's been a long time since I've played. Hogwarts doesn't have a piano. I mean, I practice on the harpsichord once a week, but it's not enough to keep it up."
Harry nodded mutely and tried to reassure her. "It sounded fine to me."
Melissa snorted. "That's sweet of you, kid. But, two years ago, I could play this song perfectly. Now… not so much."
She seemed a little sad about that. Her eyes focused more on the sheet music than on Harry, biting her lip while fingers ghosted against the keys. Taking inspiration from this morning, Harry scooted closer and nudged her on the side.
"Well, you do always say that these kinds of songs are old and stuffy, anyways. Did you write anything new at Hogwarts?"
That question seemed to perk up her interest. "Oh! I have some songs. Not sure how they sound on the piano, yet. Let me take a look!" She jumped off the bench and went elsewhere to grab her notes. Harry fiddled with the keys while he waited, trying to make sense of the squiggles on the page.
"Here we are!" She announced, plopping down a folder of loose and clipped pages on the floor as she did so. The little witch rummaged through the pages, dividing them into piles and mumbling about different instruments as she did so. "Okay, so, here are some things that might work. Let's give it a go."
They spent some time messing with the scribbles of notes. Some with lyrics, leading to funny and awkward attempts at singing, and some with only notes, which got transformed into chords as they experimented with the sound.
Harry chuckled as he hit some wrong notes. "I don't think I'm very good at this."
"Eh, it's just your first hour. Give it another 5,000 before you're sure."
Harry blinked at the arbitrary number. "I don't know, that sounds like a lot."
It was Melissa's turn to giggle. "Not really. They say it takes 10,000 hour to be professional at anything. So half of that ought to count as passable."
"Really? That must take ages!"
"Eh, it's all perspective. I mean, you take about a thousand hours of classes a year at Hogwarts. When you include time spent studying, you can easily reach 10,000 hours by graduation."
He just stared at her, eyes wide. "Is that something they track at school?"
"No," her voice sounded a little pained at that, "it's just that history is really boring and I tallied that up in class one day."
Harry openly laughed at that. "It must be awfully boring if you're doing maths in class."
"Hey! I like maths! It's fun messing with numbers."
"If you say so." His amused smile showed he only believed her for her sake. "And how many hours have you done for music?"
Melissa pondered over that one. "Let's see… if I was that much by first year… plus orchestra… I think about 3,060? I can probably get another one or two hundred this Summer. But that's for everything. Not even one thousand for piano or viola. Guess that's what I get for trying a bit of everything."
Harry considered that concept for a moment. "Wouldn't that be the same for school? I mean, 10,000 hours for a bunch of classes doesn't make you a professional wizard."
Melissa shrugged. "That's a fair point. Maybe just an expert student?"
"Or a jack of all trades? I've heard that expression before."
"Oh, right! A jack of all trades, master of none, is still better than a master of one."
"There you go, then!" He encouraged her. "I guess I should do the same at school?"
"Sounds like a good idea. I bet the other Slytherins wouldn't agree with it, but it sounds like sound advice."
"Really? Why not?"
Melissa shrugged at it. "Ambition is a defining trait of Slytherin. Jacqueline spends most of her energy on potions and herbology because she wants to work in that field. Same with Amy when it comes to defence and Rusalka for… the opposite." She waved off. "They focus on what matters to them. Like me with my music. Not that the others would agree that that counts as a good ambition, other than Barbary. But, yeah, we sometimes get pretty singular to get what we want."
Harry nodded at that. "So, I'll be the jack of all trades, and you'll be the master of one." He smiled mischievously at the implication.
"Hey! Hey!" She poked at him. "I'll be a jack of music! None of this 'better than' nonsense from you!"
Harry giggled at his friend's warning. "If you say so. Guess I should get back to my book, then."
"Yes, you should!" She half shouted in fake indignation. Despite her protests, both of them were laughing as she half-chased him off the bench. He ended up sitting on the loveseat on the other end of the room. So, while she played, he continued his reading. He would listen in on occasion. Another string of notes transformed into chords. Then it turned upbeat, then faster. The song changed slowly until it sounded something like a jazzy cousin to Heart and Soul. Within ten minutes, Melissa shouted out to him.
"Hey, Harry! I need a topic!"
"What about?" His eyes didn't leave the page.
"I dunno. My lyricist brain isn't rhyming. I need some inspiration."
Harry didn't give much thought to it. The childish whine she was making meant that anything he gave her would end up being too silly and thrown away, anyways. "Hogwarts? Robin Hood? Musical Slytherin? Take your pick."
"Fine." She whined. Probably rolling her eyes, too, if he had looked up from his book.
He tuned her out again. Not really listening to the melody or the scraps of words she was singing or humming. He didn't even notice the occasions she stopped playing to write notes.
Defence was surprisingly interesting, he found. The introduction chapter went in length about the importance of defence, of creatures you can encounter and mentions of dark wizards throughout history. He shivered a little, thinking about what he knew of the last wizarding war and his parents, and what he had learned two years ago about the world wars. A war was definitely not something he ever wanted to experience. That said, he remembered what he had read in the past. Too many bad things happened because people stood by while bad people hurt others as they wanted. Hardly anyone stood up against them until it had gotten big enough to become a war.
That thought branched off into thoughts of his own life. Thoughts of Sophie, John, Jeff, Maggie, Melly and her parents, and Uncle Sirius. They are the only people who've ever stood up for him, but the Bennetts alone couldn't save him from the Dursleys. They helped in more ways than he can imagine; but, with the fear of other wizards, they couldn't put a stop to it. It wasn't until Uncle Sirius came into the picture that he had any hope of escape. Yesterday might have been the first time they've met in person; but, still, it was the first time he met someone who looked at him like a… like a parent. Like family.
That thought made him feel a little guilty. Maybe that wasn't fair. The Bennetts treat him well. Jeff, Melly, and even Maggie were his friends. His only friends. But he always felt like a distant cousin, at best. Like he was imposing on their lives. Putting them in danger when they didn't need to be. It's why he never told them about the beatings. Melly had found out, but he didn't think much would come from that. Just keep his head down until Hogwarts. That's the best he could hope for. Still…
He glanced up to his friend, hunched over while scribbling something on a sheet of paper.
'If he's still there when he gets his letter they'll kill him or beat him senseless!'
...he's never seen her so scared before. Scared for him. Convinced that he wouldn't be able to go to Hogwarts. That the next beating would be too much. What if she was right? What if he wouldn't have been able to go? What if they locked him up and kept Sirius away or…
He flinched, eyes moving back to the book. He didn't want to think about that 'or'.
...but that 'or' is the reason he got out, isn't it? Things got so bad to risk war, so Uncle Sirius and the Bennetts took action? That sounds about right. A part of him wished it never got that far. A part of him wished he got out sooner. Another part of him felt like it wouldn't have been right if they found out sooner and worried when things weren't so bad. A few missed meals and nights locked in the cupboard wasn't worth worrying about, right?
1. Nothing about getting locked in a cupboard is good.
2. Guardians should never abuse those under their care.
3. Those who do are putrid slime buckets.
4. I deserve to be loved.
That memory made him shudder. He hasn't thought of those words in close to a year. Not since he uttered point three out loud and ended up in hospital. He had regretted it. Regretted it so badly he had almost hated Melly for putting those thoughts in his head. They were nothing but trouble!
His fist gripped tightly against the book. Tears that refused to shed blurred his vision. He blinked them back and exhaled sharply.
It doesn't matter now. He isn't on Privet Drive. They won't find him. Melly's mum promised!
"Hey, Harry, want to take a study break?"
Harry shook off the creeping thoughts. He looked up to find his friend watching him expectantly. He shook off the stare, too, with another exhale. "Sure." He mumbled. Closing the book, he got up and moved out of the room to find a new distraction.
