Chapter 1
“Ugh, this is impossible.” Harry dropped his pen and put his head in his hands.
“You just forgot to carry the one,” Tim said, leaning over to Harry and pointing at the question he was trying to answer. “See.” He scribbled over Harry’s workings, showing him how he was supposed to solve the equation.
Harry groaned. “We’ve been at this for hours. Couldn’t we take a break?”
Tim frowned. “We’re not going to finish the grade nine curriculum if we keep taking breaks. The test is in four weeks and if we fail, we’ll have to wait until November to try again.”
It had been a month since their first year at Hogwarts had ended. The first week was spent anxiously looking over their shoulders, expecting Dumbledore to show up at any moment and force Harry back to the Dursleys. As time dragged on and he did not appear, Harry was able to finally relax. Or at least he thought he could. Tim was determined that they should spend their summer catching up on the muggle subjects they’d missed at Hogwarts. He insisted that they had to keep their options open and Harry was happy to comply. At first. After hours trying to fill in a workbook that other students had a whole year to complete, Harry was convinced that maths was evil. He would rather face Voldemort again than solve another quadratic equation.
“You’re still at it?” Jason leaned in the doorway, looking down at them nestled on the carpet and surrounded by textbooks and scrunched up paper.
Harry met his eyes, silently begging to be freed from this torture.
“That is enough studying.” Jason said, walking forwards and snatching up their workbooks. “I am putting my foot down. It is summer. You should be letting your brain rot like everyone else.”
“I’ve still got five more questions in that chapter,” Tim tried to steal his book back but missed widely.
“Nuh uh, baby bird,” Jason said, moving the back out of his grasp, “you need food and sleep.”
Tim started to speak but Jason interrupted. “And I don’t mean coffee. Alfred’s making a roast for lunch. Come down and help me set the table.”
Harry bounded to his feet, glad for any excuse to get away from his new nemesis: maths homework.
“I’d hate to be an inconvenience. We can get food at home…” Tom tried to get another word in but Jason cut him off once more.
“Don’t even start,” Jason said sternly, “like I said when you got back from Eton, I don’t care if Bruce won’t formally adopt you yet, you are both my brothers. I’m not letting you go back to that place.”
“It’s not that bad,” Harry said but he didn’t even sound convincing to his own ears. As soon as Jason had arrived on their doorstep, he’d dragged Harry and Tim to Wayne Manor and refused to let them leave. Tim tried everything, insisting that their parents or a nanny were home and that they didn’t want to impose. Jason didn’t listen to any of it.
“I won’t let you disappear on me again,” he had said on the first night while giving them a tour of the two bedrooms Alfred had helped him prepare. “And I won’t let you be alone in that house. You are staying right here.”
True to his word, Harry and Tim had remained in Wayne Manor ever since.
“Master Harry, Master Tim,” Alfred said from inside the kitchen bent over the oven with purple spotted oven mitts on his hands. “Lunch is nearly ready. We’re just waiting on the potatoes.”
“Thanks, Alfred,” Jason said, bounding over to the kitchen drawers and handing Tim a pile of plates and Harry a pile of cutlery.
Alfred pulled out a tray of crispy, golden potatoes that made Harry’s mouth water. “Master Dick will be coming for dinner tonight and staying for the weekend.”
“Nooo,” Jason whined, picking up glasses, “I don’t want to be the middle child.”
“I believe it is too late for that,” Alfred said with an amused quirk to his lips, “Can you let Master Bruce know to come to the table?”
“I can do that,” Harry offered, quickly putting the cutlery down on the adjoining table just off from the kitchen. He hurried out the door and up the stairs to Bruce’s office, knocking three times. There was no response. Harry hesitated, bouncing on his toes. His mind wavered between not wanting to disturb Bruce if he was busy and not wanting to disobey Alfred by not bringing him down for lunch. He knocked three more times and the door opened. Bruce stood in front of him, hastily stuffing a letter into his pocket.
“Lunch is ready,” Harry’s voice came out with a squeak.
“Thanks, chum.” Bruce said, ruffling Harry’s hair. He leant into the touch, revelling in how warm Bruce’s hand was.
“What was in the letter?” Harry asked as they headed back down to the kitchen. He had found that Bruce was one of those strange adults that didn’t mind if he asked questions. In fact, he actively encouraged it.
“Just some work thing,” Bruce responded vaguely. “Let go eat lunch.”
They all sat around the table, Alfred dishing out potatoes, sweet corn, peas, roast lamb and mint jelly. Harry thanked him. He looked from Bruce down to his full plate. Bruce smiled encouragingly, given him an approving nod. Harry stuffed a potato in his mouth and chewed.
“Did you get your results from Eton?” Bruce asked Tim, ladling mint jelly on his lamb.
“We did,” Tim said, sitting straighter. “I got full marks in every subject. I can show you the report card.”
One of the first things Tim had done when they got back was forge a report card to send to his parents. They hadn’t come back to Gotham yet but they did actually call Tim to congratulate him on his straight A’s. Jack Drake had even asked how Harry did though Janet cut him off before Harry could answer.
“Well done, Tim,” Bruce sounded sincere though there was a slight note of something else in his voice. “You know I actually have a few friends that went to Eton. Is Mrs Reedley still teaching English there?”
Tim narrowed his eyes. “I’m not familiar with a Mrs Reedley. Our English teacher was Mr Harding. She must have left.”
“That must be it,” Bruce said.
“Stop trying to interrogate them, dad,” Jason said, adding more potatoes to Tim’s plate. “Though I’ve been dying to know the meaning behind all those questions you had about Cerberuses in your letters.”
“It was just a school project,” Tim shrugged. He changed the conversation to talk about all the maths and science projects they’d been working on in the holidays. Bruce allowed the change though Harry knew he still had questions. Tim had made a slide show for Harry with facts about the teachers, subjects and campus at Eton. From the way Bruce was looking at them, Harry could only hope it was enough.
When Bruce didn’t mention their past school year for the rest of lunch, Harry allowed himself to enjoy the food. He managed to finish the plate without difficulty. The potatoes were perfectly soft in the middle, the lamb was so juicy that he had to use a napkin to stop it drippling down his chin. It was better even than the food at Hogwarts.
He missed Ron, Neville and Hermione and being able to practise and talk about magic openly but Harry wouldn’t exchange this for anything. Looking around at Bruce, Jason, Alfred and Tim was almost like looking directly into the Mirror of Erised.
“I can help wash up,” Harry said, hopping to his feet.
“Thank you for offering, Master Harry,” Alfred said, taking his plate, “but I can do that. You should go outside and enjoy the sunshine.”
“We could have a water gun fight,” Jason leapt up excitedly, “Have I shown you the water gun I got for Christmas? You won’t stand a chance.”
“But we haven’t even started on our science workbook today…mmmph”
Jason put a hand over Tim’s mouth, muffling him. “Nope. You need vitamin D.” He grabbed Tim and Harry’s hands and started to pull them outside.
“Don’t forget sunscreen,” Bruce called after them, “and a hat.”
“We won’t,” Jason called back, “geez old man.”
Harry let himself be dragged away, grinning widely. It was good to be home.