Glee, Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Harry was walking around Diagon Alley. Who knew blowing up Aunt Marge would lead to the best summer of his life? He had taken a room at the Leaky Cauldron and had spent the last three days sleeping in, eating what he liked and not having to weed a shrub or trim a bush. Although he had to admit that he was itching to prune Tom's rhododendron bush that was a little bit out of control at the back where the pub connected to the Alley. He had a full six weeks of freedom and he was going to make the most of it.

Harry was strolling past Flourish & Blotts when he saw a familiar snowy owl on the arm of a dark-haired teen, dressed as a Muggle in a pair of jeans and a light jacket.

"Hedwig?" Harry muttered, surprised. Hedwig didn't take to strangers and if it weren't for the fact that she was freely perched on the boy's arm, he would have been more concerned. He walked up to the pair. As he drew near, he could her the boy talking to her, his accent marking him an American.

"You're a right beauty, aren't you?" He cooed. "No way are you a free owl and much too elegant to be a regular post owl. Your owner is one lucky bastard, isn't he?" Harry smiled and his eyebrows raised when he saw Hedwig preening at the boy's words.

"Well, she won't let me forget it, sure enough," Harry said and he couldn't help but smirk when the boy started at his words. The boy turned to face him, bright hazel eyes met his own and a faint blush dusted his cheeks.

"Oh, hi," the boy stammered, still blushing. "I hope you don't mind, she saw Bandit flying towards me and thought he was lunch. I had to intervene and try to talk her out of it."

"Bandit?"

"My familiar," the boy immediately said. He made a clucking sound at Hedwig who, to Harry's surprise, hopped up to the boy's shoulder. Harry then saw him reach into his jacket pocket and brought out what looked like a tiny squirrel. "This is Bandit. He's a sugar glider."

"He's very cute," Harry said. "Although I can't blame Hedwig for thinking of him as lunch. You said he flies?"

"Is that her name?" The boy's face lit up with a smile and turned to face the owl on his shoulder. "Well it's good to finally know you properly Hedwig. It's a fine name." Hedwig gave a short bark and nipped his ear affectionately. The boy turned to face Harry and said, "Well not really fly, he glides. He didn't appreciate being left behind in my room and came to find me." He then turned to face Bandit. "Serves you right for oversleeping."

Harry couldn't help but grin at the sight. He watched with amusement as the boy proceeded to introduce Bandit to Hedwig. Bandit scurried to the top of the boy's head, nestled in his dark curls he poked his head at Hedwig, still on the boy's shoulder, and to Harry's amazement began to bark at Hedwig. Hedwig barked back and it seemed that the two were having a conversation.

The boy was grinning as he turned to Harry. "Well, it looks like they're going to be fast friends."

"It sure does," Harry replied, still watching the two animals barking at each other. He turned back to the boy who he caught staring at him, but surprisingly, he wasn't looking at his forehead just at his face. When he was caught, the boy began to blush furiously.

"Um, I guess I should introduce myself," he stammered and looked at the pavement. Then he thrust a hand out. "I'm Blaine."

Harry was caught by surprise at the sudden movement but quickly grasped Blaine's hand. It was very warm and calloused. "I'm Harry."

Harry was fascinated when Blaine's blush deepened and he seemed nervous as he pulled back his hand and stuffed both it in his jacket pockets. He wondered if he was like Creevey, another fan? He really didn't need the aggravation and was going to excuse himself and call Hedwig when a woman burst out of Flourish & Blotts in a panic but looked relieved when she saw them.

"Blaine! I told you to stay close!"

"Mom, sorry but Bandit called and he was about to be eaten by Hedwig, I had to do something," Blaine rapidly explained, seeing his mother's eyes narrow and knowing that that excuse wouldn't cut it he did the next best thing to delay the inevitable scolding. "By the way, I want to introduce you to Hedwig's owner, Harry. Harry, my mother, Angeles Anderson."

The woman was brought up short and turned to face Harry. Harry saw that she was small, slightly shorter than he was if she weren't wearing heels. She had midnight-black hair in a bun and olive skin. She was exotic-looking, with sharp features but her eyes were almond-shaped and very dark, almost black with very long lashes. She wore very little make-up and her only jewelry were a pearls at her neck and ears and a simple gold wedding ring. However, her bearing and presence made her seem taller than she was. It was disconcerting because she acted like a pure-blood but, like her son, was dressed in Muggle fashion in a conservative skirt and top with a light coat.

She smiled at Harry and he could see that her smile was genuine. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry. I apologize for my outburst but Blaine has the bad habit of raising my blood pressure."

"Mom!" Blaine exclaimed, his blush back in full force.

"It's quite all right, Mrs. Anderson, in these times I don't blame you."

"'These times'?" Mrs. Anderson asked. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

Harry was taken aback, but then again, he reasoned, while her accent did sound posh it was also American. Maybe they didn't know about Sirius Black.

"Sirius Black? The escaped convict from Azkaban?" At the Andersons' puzzled looks, Harry explained further. "Sirius Black is a Death Eater who escaped from Azkaban recently. Has got a lot of people pretty spooked."

As Mrs. Anderson's eyes widened at the news. Harry was caught off-guard when Blaine asked, "What's a Death Eater?"

"You don't know?" Harry asked as Blaine shook his head. "Death Eaters were the followers of Voldemort." Blaine's face remained blank while Harry heard Mrs. Anderson slight gasp. At least she seems to have heard of Voldemort.

She reached out and grasped her son's shoulder and turned to face Harry. "Harry, where are your parents, shouldn't you be with them if this Sirius Black is out?"

That question threw Harry for a loop. They didn't know who he was! It was strange to meet people who didn't have preconceived ideas about him. He was about to tell them that he was going to meet up with his parents later but stopped himself. Here was a chance to meet people who'll judge him for himself. Not as the "freak" or "the Dursleys' delinquent nephew" or "the Boy Who Lived" but just Harry. And he didn't want to start it off by lying to them. As he started to answer, he then wondered if Blaine didn't know him as the Boy Who Lived then why was he acting so strangely?

"I'm by myself, Mrs. Anderson," Harry told her. He started to explain further but stopped himself. What else could he say? He didn't want to explain his history so he just stopped and hoped that they wouldn't ask any more questions.

Mrs. Anderson blinked in surprised and he saw that Blaine was impressed about him being on his own. He could see that she wanted to ask why an obvious minor was by himself but was too well-mannered to bring it up. He decided to make it easy on her.

"The Ministry is aware that I'm by myself, Mrs. Anderson. It's only for the remainder of the summer. I'm off to Hogwarts in September."

"Well, that is a relief," Mrs. Anderson said, and he could see that she really was relieved. "Hogwarts you say? Well we're thinking of enrolling Blaine there. Would you mind joining us for dinner? We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron, at least for tonight. You'll be doing us a favor by telling us a bit about your school."

"Yes Harry, please," Blaine added eagerly and then that blush was back. "Um, that is, if you like..." Blaine trailed off. Mrs. Anderson was amused by her son's antics. Her heart felt light seeing her only son open up again, she missed this. For months, he was withdrawn and quiet and she couldn't really blame him but it made her heart ache to see her beautiful boy so distant and guarded. This Harry seemed to bring him out of his shell, and she couldn't really blame Blaine. Harry was very handsome and charming. While she feared for her son risking rejection, she was glad that at least he was willing to risk his heart again, that he was allowing others in again.

Harry could see that Blaine really wanted him to stick around although he didn't know why if Blaine didn't know he was the Boy Who Lived. What other reason could there be? Blaine looked like the sort that didn't seem to have problems making friends, so why was he so eager to be in Harry's company?

"Sure, thanks, that'll be brilliant."

Mrs. Anderson smiled again in pleasure. "That's settled then. Why don't you two boys head back to the Leaky Cauldron. Blaine, I'll find your father and we'll meet you there." She then turned to Harry, "Is that all right?"

Surprised but pleased to be asked Harry said, "That's fine, Mrs. Anderson."

"Splendid. You boys go ahead and we'll catch up with you two later."

"Bye Mom," Blaine said and kissed his mother on the cheek. She waved at Harry and walked down the street towards Gringotts.

Blaine looked at Harry, his mouth in a half-smile. Bandit had crawled down to his other shoulder as Hedwig was still in possession of the other one and didn't seem to be leaving it any time soon. "I guess we're off to the Leaky Cauldron. Where are you staying?"

The two boys started walking as Harry answered. "I'm staying there, too. What did your mum mean that you're only staying there tonight?"

Blaine grinned at him. "She's not too impressed with the facilities so unless she finds better accommodations here, we're moving to a non-magical hotel tomorrow."

"Is she Muggle-born then?"

"Mom?" Blaine asked his eyes widened. "Oh no! My mother's family is as old as they come. In fact, she got into a huge fight with her grand uncle, he's the family patriarch, for marrying my dad. That's 'cause the Andersons, despite being in the States since the 1700's isn't old enough for them. My dad's family is technically pure-blood but they're against that whole agenda. They left England because of it. My grandmother, my dad's mom, is non-magical and she isn't the first either. In fact, my family's known for marrying first generation magicals and non-magicals so while it's considered one of the old families it's not considered pure..."

Blaine suddenly stopped talking, "Um, sorry. I tend to ramble when I'm nervous. Don't mind me."

Harry looked at Blaine quizzically. "It's fine, I was enjoying it actually, but why are you nervous?"

Blaine stopped walking suddenly and paled then blushed even more furiously. Harry stopped and turned to face him and idly wondered if a piece of paper would land on his face if it would burst into flames. Blaine looked down at the pavement and shuffled his feet. Harry was puzzled, he was even more puzzled when Hedwig nipped at Blaine's ear and barked encouragingly at him. Bandit put a paw on Blaine's other ear and pulled himself up and _glared_ at Harry!

"Um," Blaine began but as he looked up and saw that they were in the middle of the street he quickly walked to the side. Harry followed. It was strange, Harry was never at this end of the conversation; usually he's the one who's unsure or embarrassed.

"Look, I hope you don't take it the wrong way or anything, and really it's no big deal. I mean, it IS a big deal, I mean for me but maybe not for you but then again it can be because, well, you're dressed as a non-magical so maybe it isn't a big deal for you I mean I know that magicals here in England are rather conservative but you don't strike me as one of them—"

"Blaine, Blaine!" Harry interrupted. "Breathe mate! Seriously, take a breath! And you're rambling again."

"Um, that's 'cause I'm nervous."

Harry grinned. "So I gathered."

Blaine looked up with a smile playing on his face. "Jerk."

"Look, mate," Harry said, "you don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable. I'll just chalk it up to your weird American ways."

"'Weird American ways'?" Blaine asked, although he looked grateful at the change of subject.

"Of course! Everyone knows that Americans are touched in the head. I think it's because you folks drink coffee instead of tea."

Blaine laughed in relief and the two started walking again. "Don't knock it, English. Coffee is the lifeblood of the universe."

"You would say that, you're American."

The two boys walked on teasing each other. Harry still didn't know what was bothering Blaine so much but it didn't seem to be that important. He hated it when he was forced to say things he didn't want to and he didn't want to start off on the wrong foot with a potential new friend. Besides, he can't be that bad if Hedwig likes him.

If Blaine does go to Hogwarts this year, maybe it'll be a good thing.


	2. Chapter 2

"No way!"

"Um, 'way'?"

"No way!"

"Would you please stop saying that?"

"How can you not have had a butterbeer?! You're _British_ for crying out loud! Isn't it like your national drink or something? Don't they like make you drink that after you're born instead of breast milk?"

Harry looks over at Blaine with an amused smile on his face. The past half-hour was completely new to him. Blaine had no preconceptions about him and no expectations either. He wondered if this is what being a normal teenager felt like. Well normal in the sense that he and Blaine were in a corner table in a smoky pub with no electricity surrounded by what could be extras in the Lord of the Rings drinking a rather good drink that tastes like cream soda and butterscotch.

Blaine's incredulous expression—with Hedwig on his right shoulder and Bandit on his left and both pets unintentionally mimicking Blaine's expression of wide-eyed surprise—was rather comical. He manages to suppress a chuckle but can't help but grin widely at Blaine and the two animals.

"I'm pretty sure that last bit was racist, mate," he says and he grins wider when Blaine scoffs at him. Harry continues with a shrug, "I was Muggle-raised, didn't know about butterbeer until I got to Hogwarts."

"True, but you've been in Hogwarts for two years now—"

"But," Harry says, interrupting Blaine, "they don't allow Hogsmeade visits until the third year and they don't serve butterbeer in the school."

"Well that's a crime against humanity," Blaine grouses and this time Harry does let out a chuckle. The two have talked for a bit after arriving at the Leaky Cauldron, they got as far as learning that Harry was coming into his third year and that Blaine will be too—if he ends up enrolling there—before Blaine learned that Harry never had butterbeer.

"Well," Blaine says straightening up and continues in a terrible British accent, "I am most pleased to 'ave been of service to you, sah, by expahnding your knowl'dge of hower national beverage."

Harry blinks. "What was that?"

Blaine looks nonplussed for a minute then blushes and grins. "Hey!" Blaine flicks some of his butterbeer froth at Harry. "I've been told that my British accent is quite good!"

"Let me guess, other Americans said that, right?"

Blaine opens his mouth then closes it. He pouts but Harry can see the grin trying to break free. "So not the point!" Harry laughs Blaine sulks for a bit but finally gives in and chuckles. He looks up at Harry and with an embarrassed half-smile asks, "Is it really that bad?"

"As long as you don't try to infiltrate the government, I guess you should be okay."

Blaine rolls his eyes, "Thanks."

"Or ask for help."

Blaine raises an eyebrow and Harry can't resist teasing him further.

"Or talk to any Brit. At all. Just don't say a word."

"Shut up!"

"Exactly."

Blaine laughs. "Jerk!"

"So how come you know about this, then?" Harry asked, holding up his mug. "Is it quite popular back in the States?"

"Yes it is," Blaine nods. "Also because it's so hard to get. There's only one store that sells it and it's not in Arkham. It's sold in a store in Greenwich Village in New York and the owner doesn't take orders, it's first come, first served."

Arkham, Harry remembered Blaine telling him, was the magical town that housed Blaine's old school, Miskatonic University. It's slightly larger than Hogsmeade and was located near Salem in Massachusetts.

"I got introduced to it by my brother Cooper," Blaine says. "He had a friend who lived in the Village and would buy cases of the stuff as soon as it got in and then he either drove up to Miskatonic or Coop would drive down to New York to pick it up. I remember when they scored two huge barrels once and that lasted them for almost two terms. Would have lasted for far longer if they didn't have a party pretty much every weekend." Harry notices Blaine's expression shift a bit. The smile and the open expression is still there but there is something else there, something he can't read. "Cooper has always been popular but after that year, he was the University god."

"Is your brother here with you?"

"Nah," Blaine answers but then Harry sees that while his smile stays in place, it loses its brilliance. "Coop's ten years older than me. He graduated years ago. He's a junior partner at his grandfather's firm."

"Wait, 'his grandfather'?"

"Coop's my half-brother. We have different moms. His mom died when he was four. He was six when our dad met my mom, nine when they got married and ten when I was born.

"I get that it was hard for him," Blaine looks down into his own mug. He continues speaking but his voice gets soft, as though that he's forgotten that he's there with Harry and it seems as if he's talking to himself. "He thought that his mom was being replaced; and then when I was born, he thought that _he_ was being replaced. It didn't help that dad was away so much for work." Blaine sighed, "He's a great brother..."

Harry wasn't sure who Blaine was trying to convince with that last statement.

Blaine is still lost in thought, still looking into his mug when Bandit chitters at him and brings him back to the present. Harry can see in his eyes that he realized that he spaced-out and probably rambled again. He can see the blush starting to blossom and he decides to help his new friend out and changes the subject.

"I can't believe how quickly Hedwig took to you. And she's still right there on your shoulder."

To Harry's relief, Blaine's face lights up at the change of subject, moody thoughts forgotten as he turns to face Hedwig. "What can I say? Hedwig here is a brilliant bird and she knows quality when she sees it, don't you girl?" Blaine strokes Hedwig's breast feathers and she nips his fingers affectionately.

Blaine then turns to Harry shrugging without jostling either pet, "Animals like me. We understand one another."

"You can talk to animals?" Harry asked, remembering how he clucked at Hedwig earlier.

"No! Nothing like that," Blaine says chuckling. "I wish! No, it's just...," Blaine pauses, gathering his thoughts, "I seem to get what they want to say. It also depends on the animal. Now Bandit here," he say as he raises his right hand near his shoulder, allowing the sugar glider to jump on his hand, "he's my familiar so we understand each other very well. We don't, like, share thoughts or anything but I can understand what he wants, usually. Hedwig's really smart and she's your familiar so I can understand her for the most part, too."

"She's my what?" Harry asked, surprised.

Blaine, who was playing with Bandit, letting him jump from one hand to another, looks up at Harry with a similar expression of surprise on his face. He tilts his head to the side as he answers, "She's your familiar. Didn't you know?"

"Well," Harry starts to say but stops. He's a bit dumbfounded and looks over at Hedwig who has an amused but exasperated expression on her face—a neat trick considering that she doesn't exactly have facial muscles. He continues, "She was a present. A friend bought her for me my first year at Hogwarts."

"That doesn't mean anything, you two obviously bonded. I can tell," Blaine looks sharply at Harry. "You can tell what she means to say, can't you? She understands you, she comes to you when you need her even though you haven't called her...does any of this sound familiar?" Realizing what he just said, Blaine rolls his eyes and quickly adds, "No pun intended."

"Yes."

"It doesn't matter how she got to you Harry, you two bonded. She's your familiar."

"What does that mean? Having a familiar, I mean."

"Don't you have a class for magical creatures? This is usually covered then."

"Third year elective. I'm taking it actually."

"Oh, well, the short version is that sometimes a wizard will bond with an animal, usually a magical one but not necessarily, and the animal becomes his familiar. Most magical animals are intelligent but the bond increases that intelligence whether the familiar is magical or not, plus a kind of empathy forms. The best bit is it also allows you to cast certain spells that can only be cast if you have a familiar."

"What kind of spells?"

"Familiar Spells, you know," Blaine answers looking puzzled, "the common ones are some scrying spells like where you can look out of your familiar's eyes or letting the familiar substitute for you on spells that need you to be present or having the familiar deliver the spell or tapping into their magic to boost your spells. Stuff like that."

This was all news to Harry. Granted he wasn't the most diligent student in Hogwarts, or even in his dorm but shouldn't he have learned a little about this? "How come no one's brought this up before? I mean, I know that Care of Magical Creatures is a third year elective but shouldn't there be an introduction to different kinds of magic or something?"

Blaine frowns as he answers Harry. "I've read the letter Hogwarts sent my parents about what to expect in my third year and I did see a History of Magic class. That should be covered there."

Harry rolls his eyes. "Well that explains it. Binns pretty much only covers the Goblin Rebellions and, sometimes, the Giant Wars."

"What? Why would he do that?"

"He's a ghost. The joke in the castle is that he's haunting the subject," Harry says with a grin. His grin falters slightly when he notices Blaine's furrowed brow. "Blaine? It really isn't that bad..."

Blaine's face clears up and he smiles reassuringly at Harry. "No, it isn't that. I think every school has their share of...eccentric...teachers. Miskatonic has Dr. Derleth, he teaches Runes and he has three personalities and the personalities hate each other. It's a good thing each one is a Rune Master in their own right. And I heard that Salem has Mistress Ecsed, they say she's a thousand-year old vampire who teaches Astronomy and apparently to pass her class all the female students have to give blood so she can bathe in it at the end of the year."

"Please tell me you're kidding!"

"Not about Dr. Derleth. He was one of my teachers. Mistress Ecsed? Well the Salem students just look mysterious and change the subject, I think they like the notoriety she lends the place. Although she can't be completely human because she _has _been teaching in Salem for about two hundred years now."

"And I thought Hogwarts had faculty problems!" Harry exclaims. Blaine just grins at him. Harry then asks Blaine, "So what was bothering you when I mentioned Binns?"

"Nothing really," Blaine scowls. "I read a lot of books early this year. I was bedridden you see so all I did was read. And I read something about ghosts...ack! It's gone! Forget it, if it's important it'll come back."

"Why were you bedridden?"

Harry sees Blaine's face become reserved suddenly. He's about to tell him that it isn't important, that he doesn't have to say anything when Blaine starts to speak.

"I was attacked last year. My date and I, I mean. We were at the Winter Formal," Blaine's voice is hollow and his eyes are blank. Harry instinctively reaches forward and grabs Blaine's hand. Blaine looks surprised but then releases a breath, looks gratefully at Harry and grips his hand tightly. "We had a lot of fun at the dance. Then when we went out to the garden to catch our breath," Blaine pauses for a while and Harry wonders if he's done when Blaine sighs and continues. "Next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital. I was unconscious for a week, that's how long it took them to repair the damage, and even after that I had to stay in the hospital for two more months before I was taken out of of constant monitoring."

"Merlin...!" Harry breathes. He couldn't believe what he just heard. He squeezed Blaine's hand to try and convey his, what, support? Understanding? He wasn't sure what he wanted to say but Blaine gave him a shaky smile anyway. Harry couldn't help but smile back, although his was just as shaky as Blaine's.

"What happened?"

Blaine looks down at their clasped hands and studies it intently, like he's seeing it for the first time. He answers Harry but doesn't take his eyes off their hands.

"I don't know, really. We obviously got attacked and I got hit by a really nasty curse, three different kinds actually."

Blaine looks up at Harry suddenly, something undefinable in his eyes.

"It's what kept me alive, strangely enough. The three curses were interfering with each other. The effects were terrible but it kept me alive long enough for help to arrive," Blaine says and then looks down again. "My date wasn't so lucky."

A silence descends on the table. Harry tries to wrap that incident around his head and he can barely imagine how bad those curses must have been. Harry is no stranger to curses himself and he's a bit of a legend in Hogwarts for the amount of times he's been to Madam Pomfrey's lair but precisely because of that he knows how quickly magic can heal even the worst damage. For Blaine to have been in the hospital for two mon—no wait, he said he was on _constant monitoring _for two months, not that he was discharged after two months. Whatever it was it must have been really bad.

This whole time Blaine was looking at their hands when he suddenly blinks, as if snapping out of a reverie. He starts to blush again and quickly withdraws his hand from Harry's. At the back of his mind, Harry realizes he misses the warmth.

"Ah, sorry about that," Blaine stammers out, "that's a bit of a buzz-kill, isn't it? I don't know where that came from! Sorry for dumping on you like that, I swear I'm usually not that...not like that."

"Don't worry about it," Harry smiles at Blaine encouragingly. "It's nice to be at the other end for once."

Blaine grins up at him. "You always seem to know what to say, Harry."

Now this time it's Harry who feels the blush coming on. He doesn't know why but he's very pleased that Blaine said so, and embarrassed as well. He quickly looks down, hoping to hide his blush yet knowing there's no way that Blaine didn't notice. His eyes look up to see Blaine still grinning at him and he can't help but answer that smile with one of his own.

Blaine's grin seems to freeze and his eyes widen—he really has huge eyes—and he lets out a breath like he's been holding it in for a while. Before Harry could ask Blaine if anything was the matter he hears Mrs. Anderson.

"Blaine!"

Mrs. Anderson was accompanied by a tall, lanky man in a Muggle suit, a very expensive-looking suit. The man has dark hair peppered with gray and the same hazel eyes as Blaine. He could see that Mr. Anderson was much older than his wife but seemed to contain an energy, a presence of a much younger man. Harry can't help but feel a little apprehensive, until Mr. Anderson face breaks out into an easy smile and Harry starts to relax.

Blaine gets up when his parents arrive and Harry dimly remembers Aunt Petunia telling Dudley to get up when they had a female visitors and thinking it better to err on the side of caution, Harry gets up as well.

Mrs. Anderson reaches them and smiles at them. She accepts a kiss from her son and she turns to Harry and says, "Harry, this is my husband, Dean Anderson. Dean, this nice young man is Harry."

"Pleased to meet you sir," Harry says sticking out his hand. He winces internally at how shaky his voice sounds.

"Pleased to meet you Harry," Mr. Anderson replies, firmly shaking Harry's hand.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Mrs. Anderson suggests they go to a restaurant on the Muggle side of London. Apparently the Leaky Cauldron is not to her taste. The Andersons insisted that Harry join them. They were considering enrolling Blaine in Hogwarts and wanted to pick his brain about the school. Mrs. Anderson insisted that buying him lunch was the least they could do.

For a second Harry wondered how smart it was to go with relative strangers into London. Hedwig seemed to sense his hesitation and she quickly flew from Blaine's shoulder to his, nipping his ear. Harry relaxed immediately, knowing somehow that Hedwig approved of the Andersons. It seems that now that it was brought to his attention, Harry can feel Hedwig.

Blaine's parents were talking, discussing which restaurant to go to and did not see Harry's momentary hesitation but Blaine did and he also saw him communing with Hedwig. He smiles at Harry steps a bit closer and whispers, "what did I tell you? She's your familiar."

Harry smiles up at Hedwig just as the Andersons decided on where to go. As they leave the Leaky Cauldron, Harry feels something odd. He then realizes what it is. He's happy. He's not ecstatic or giddy, but there's no pressure to perform well, no crisis to avert, no problem to solve, no expectations to maintain...he's just a boy having lunch with a friend and his family who happen to be good company. He allows himself to express his feelings for once and steps brightly out of the door into London proper.

He's completely unaware, however, the impact of this one act has. Harry has always been guarded. He was abused by his relatives and just recently learned the fickleness of the mob. He was lauded and feted when he first came back to the wizarding world but this past year, when people suspected him of being the Heir of Slytherin, he saw how quickly that adoration had turned to fear, loathing and, in some cases, even hate. This has only put him more on his guard and he hardly ever really relaxed enough to let his face reflect his feelings.

But here, among people who were unaware of his status, he could be himself and allowed himself to let his guard down. Harry has always been a good-looking boy, especially now that he's eating well and not having to deal with the worry of avoiding his relatives. But when he steps out of the Leaky Cauldron with a light heart, the late morning sun makes his green eyes flash and he actually becomes rather beautiful. Beautiful at least to the boy who follows behind him. The boy with a sugar glider on his shoulder who, when seeing that smile and the sun in those brilliant eyes, loses not only his breath but his heart.


End file.

Glee, Harry Potter, Romance