2
Even after three months into their sophomore year, Harry had never been invited to the Jackson residency. Likewise, he had also never invited Percy to his own house.
It wasn't unusual for Harry and Percy to refuse each other entry to their homes. Harry did it because he didn't want to subject Percy to the horrors of the Dursley family. He didn't want Percy to have to look upon his uncle, deal with his fat cousin, or listen to the shriek his aunt would let loose at the most inopportune times.
He still didn't know why Percy didn't want him at his own home.
"By the way, " Percy commented at lunch one day. "My mom wanted to invite you and your family to our apartment for dinner."
Harry stopped his weaving to look up at Percy. The taller boy was watching his every move.
"Why?" Harry managed to choke out around the lump that settled in his throat. Percy shrugged.
"I talk about you a lot. My mother wanted to meet you and your family." Harry stopped in his panic for a moment. Percy talked about him? To his mom?
A glint caught his eye briefly from Percy's wrist. A bright blue and green bracelet sat on the boy's tanned wrist, a few different pearls weaved in along with the glittering string. Gathering his resolve, Harry took a deep breath.
"What day?" Harry's voice shook slightly.
"Tomorrow?"
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Harry couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in his chair. He shot Percy a look from across the table and the other boy seemed to be just as uncomfortable as he was.
"You, Vernon Dursley, are a fine man." Percy's apparent stepfather spoke loudly, hitting the table while he almost doubled over in laughter. Both Dudley and Petunia both gave the man sweet smiles, but Harry could barely scourge a grimace when the man sent him a look. For some reason, the man continued to expel an aura that rubbed Harry the wrong way.
It almost reminded him of Vernon, actually. That alone was enough to raise red flags.
"What's your problem, Boy?" The man, Gabe, said accusingly. Vernon sent him a withering glare before Petunia waved her hand indulgently.
"He's always like this, that one. He's a problem child. Always has been and he always will be."
"Ah, I know what that feels like. I've got one of those myself." Gabe sent a dirty glare to Percy. Harry felt his back tense slightly, his wings puffing up slightly under his shirt, a weirdly protective instinct rearing its ugly head. "He's practically worthless if you ask me. Too bad I can't get rid of him."
Harry bit back a scathing remark and settled for glaring at the fat man.
"You and me both." Vernon laughed.
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Harry couldn't help but smile back at Sally Jackson.
The kind woman had sat down next to Percy, settling her conveniently in front of Harry.
"You must be Hadrian. Percy has told me so much about you." The woman let out a giggle. "I personally love this." She grabbed Percy's wrist, the pearl bracelet still firmly tied there. "Did you make it?"
"Yes ma'am, I did." Harry rubbed at the back of his neck, a shy smile covering his face.
"None of that now. Call me Sally."
"Okay Sally, " Harry muttered, testing the name on his tongue. The woman smiled again and wrapped an arm around Percy. "I'm so sorry about my family." Harry apologized.
"It's nothing I haven't dealt with before." The woman cast a side glance at her husband, a delicate sneer on her face. "He has his 'work buddies' over all the time."
"Maybe if Vernon puts on the charm, I can join him over here, " Harry muttered, thinking out loud. Sally smiled and Harry smiled shyly.
"I'm sure we would both love to have you over every now and then. So Harry, " Sally pointed her fork at him. "Tell me about yourself. How long have you been in New York?" She plopped a piece of lasagna into her mouth.
"Um, " Harry stalled, rubbing his hands together under the table. "About six months now. We moved here in July from England."
"I knew that accent from somewhere!" Sally smiled happily, sending an innocent look to her husband when both Gabe and Vernon glared at their small group. "I do apologize for the hostility, " Sally mumbled through her teeth, a fake grin plastered on her face for his relatives. "We don't normally have guests over."
"Gabe wasn't happy about having to help clean up, " Percy chimed in, gesturing to the others. Harry nodded, understanding where the two were coming from. It wasn't a matter of the days the Dursleys don't help him are very few, but more of a matter of when the Dursleys do help him. Those days were few and far between, no matter what state he happened to be in at the time.
"Now now, Percy. Gabe is doing us a great favor just by being here." Percy shot Harry a look before he immediately went back to his food.
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"I like him, Percy," Sally smiled at her son as she collected the dishes from the table. "His family? Not so much."
"I didn't know it was that bad, " Percy commented, placing the lasagna into the fridge carefully. "They talk to him like he is the plague."
"Percy, I don't think that's all they do," Sally whispered, combing her fingers through her coarse hair.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't really know, Percy. Right now, it's just a theory, a gut feeling." Percy looked at his mother for a moment.
"I hope you are wrong mom." He said finally. "But what do you want me to do?"
"Continue like you are honey," she smiled, her eyes gleaming at Percy. "If it means anything at all, I totally approve."
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Harry couldn't help but whine when his shoulder blades moved. He had forgotten to weed the garden the day before, and his mistake had cost him an extra painful wing removal. Because of that, they came in more tender this morning.
Harry brushed his braid so it would lay over his left shoulder, opposite to the one where his backpack was hanging off.
"Harry!" Harry tilted his head to the side at the voice.
"Hey Perce." Harry smiled through the immense pain. Percy's eyes darkened slightly, but he let it slide.
"So, did you hear about the new teacher?" Percy was jumping around like a rabbit on crack, and it took all of Harry's focus and concentration to keep track of him.
"No, how did you manage to hear about it?" Percy flushed slightly at Harry's eyebrow raise.
"That's not important. What is important is that apparently, he's hot." Harry looked at his jumpy friend incredulously.
"Really?" Percy nodded quickly, his green eyes sparkling with excitement. "Why would that matter?"
"Eye candy, Harry." Harry made a face.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Perce."
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Harry's wings jerked slightly in surprise when a hand gripped his shoulder.
"Mr. Black, " the new sub, Mr. Père, smiled down at him. Harry couldn't help but notice the way his white teeth sparkled, and for some reason, the man seemed almost too familiar.
For some reason, Harry couldn't put his finger on it.
"Yes?"
"Are you feeling okay?" Harry had been slightly taken aback by the concern in the temporary teacher's voice.
"I'm fine, sir," Harry said finally. Mr. Père nodded before he made his way back to the front of the room, squeezing his shoulder a final time in passing.
"As I was saying, " one of the girls in the class shot Harry a look while snickering into her hand. "My name is Erron Père. I will be teaching your class for an undetermined amount of time for a few reasons that I am not permitted to tell you." The man gave a charming smile and Harry honest to God heard at least three girls swoon out loud. "Any questions?"
"How old are you?" One girl asked, her hand raised. Mr. Père raised his eyebrow at the interruption.
"I am twenty-one." Seven other hands went up, and Harry heard the teacher sigh in defeat. "Are there are questions that have to do with the class?" The hands stayed up. "Any questions that do not involvthay looks or my homelife?"
Harry had to refrain from smashing his head into his desk at the sight of every hand as they went down. Mr. Père nodded his head and turned around.
'Mr. Père' was soon written on the board in the fanciest writing Harry had ever seen. "You will address me as Mr. Père, Not Erron or any other name you could come up with."
Harry raised his hand slowly before he could talk himself out of it. "Your name, " Harry started. It sounded fake, even to him, but he wouldn't let anyone else figure that out. "It means 'Father' in French."
Apparently, Harry said something correct. Mr. Père's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Do you know any French, Mr. Black?" Harry stared at his teacher in confusion.
"No sir, I do not." His answer only seemed to amuse the teacher even more.
"Pouvez-vous me comprendre?"
"Yeah, I can understand you, sir. What does this have to do with anything?" Mr. Père smiled at him again before he gestured around the room. Harry took a long, swiveling look around the room and shivered at the stares from his fellow classmates.
"You, Mr. Black, are very special." The man said finally, punctuating an accent onto an 'i' with a light tap on the chalkboard.
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"Why didn't you tell me you could speak French?" Harry continued on with his project.
"I didn't know I could do it myself." Harry didn't bother to respond to the scoff from in front of him.
"So, what do you think?" Percy asked, and Harry could practically hear the smile in his voice.
"About what?"
"About the new teacher, Harry." Harry looked up after placing his almost finished bracelet into his pack.
"I like him," he said simply, getting a squeak out of his friend.
"Nothing? No 'He's so hot' or 'I can't believe he touched me'? I think you might want to watch out for Nancy. She sounded almost bloodthirsty in the hallway after class." Harry scoffed, an amused smirk on his handsome face.
"She won't do anything to me. Dumb bitch is all bark and no bite." Harry popped a spoonful of peas into his mouth and looked around. "Looks like Mr. Père and Mr. Brunner have hit it off." Harry jerked a quick thumb towards the staff table.
"I am surprisingly okay with that." Percy nodded to himself, a piece of peanut butter and jelly sandwich disappearing into his mouth.
"Why?"
"I have no clue."
After a couple of minutes of companionable silence, Percy hummed lowly. "You know what is really weird?"
"What?" Harry asked, holding his breath so he didn't have to taste the mystery meat on his plate as he ate it.
"He looks like you," Percy said, rubbing at his chin in thought. Harry raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at his friend before sneaking a glance back towards the staff table. Mr. Brunner and Mr. Père seemed to be locked in a particularly riveting conversation, and Harry couldn't help but snicker at how annoyed Mrs. Dodds seemed to be every time one of Mr. Père's flailing arms almost smacked her in the face.
He could see some resemblance though. Mr. Père's hair was the same midnight black as Harry's own, and they both shared the same windswept, just rolled out of bed look even though Harry managed to keep his under control with length and styles. Harry guessed their cheekbones could be considered similar as well, but beyond that, he didn't get it.
"I don't really see it, to be honest. Lots of people have black hair and high cheekbones." He went back to his food, ignoring Percy's no doubt deadpan expression.
"Yeah, lots of people look like models at fifteen with perfect faces and perfect hair and perfect eyes and perfect everything else," Percy mumbled to himself, staring that the boy across from his in disbelief. "You look like a distantly carboned copy of him, Harry. The only thing that is really different is your eyes."
"Aunt Petunia says that I got my eyes from my mum." Percy nodded after Harry's comment.
'That would explain why your eyes are green and his are blue."
"Or it is because we just share similar features, Perce," Harry rolled his eyes. "There is no way I am related to him."