Destinies Collide

Friendly Advances

October 1st, 1988

Harry was starting to get tired of lunches and dinners. Not the food, he loved getting to eat as much as he wanted, but the ones with new people always made his belly feel weird and loopy, plus he didn't like the last people Mr Wright brought over to meet him so he had no idea what might happen this time. At least they were going to have lunch with the new people instead of inviting the people to visit them at home.

"Thirty-eight...forty-one...forty-four Eaton Square, here we are," Mr Wright announced as he parked in front of the white columns with the house number in the centre of them. All of the houses in the street were painted white on the outside with black doors and windows and Harry couldn't help but think it looked much less fun than Mr Wright's colourful neighbourhood. "Why the long face? We don't have to go if you really would rather not, y'know? I just figured... it bothers you, not being able to share magic with Hermione, and Chang has a daughter her age, you might feel better having a wixen friend closer to home."

"But Hermione's my best friend!" Harry crosses his arms, looking down at his swaying feet that don't quite reach the floor of the car.

"I'm not telling you to stop being friends with Hermione, just that having more friends could be good," Mr Wright explains and it does make him a bit less upset. He doesn't want to replace his friend. "If you don't like her, you don't have to see her again, she'll even be one year above you in Hogwarts."

"...fine," Harry can't help but smile just a bit at the proud grin Mr Wright gives him, still a little giddy at getting to choose things, and maybe he pushes a bit every now and then but Mr Wright had yet to yell or hit him.

"Great! Let's go say hi then," they leave the car once Mr Wright has the gift for their host in his hands and make their way to the door of number forty-four. Harry doesn't see a doorbell and figures that Mr Wright doesn't find one either since he uses the knocker to knock on it three times instead.

The door opens a moment later, though no one is behind it, as if it opened on its own by magic. Harry trades a look with Mr Wright and his guardian shrugs before walking in, Harry only a step behind. The room they walk into kind of matches the outside, with white walls and dark wooden floors, but there's a fireplace just to their right and a couple of coat hangers to the left, with a large, black wooden door just ahead of them, as if they haven't really gone into the house yet.

A popping sound makes both of them look to the right, eyes meeting a little creature half Harry's height with short, choppy brown hair and huge ears nearly the size of its skinny forearms and with large round eyes that took up nearly half of its face.

"Qiao takes yours coats, misters!" The creature exclaims in a squeaky voice that makes Harry think of babies and he steps back a little to hide behind Mr Wright.

"Uh- alright," Mr Wright shrugs off his coat before handing it to the little creature, who disappears in a pop after seeing Harry had no coat of his own.

"Please tell me you've read about house elves," an exasperated voice calls from the now open wooden door and Harry can only look at Ms Chang with confusion since he hadn't heard of house elves either, "come in, I'll find you a book on them later, just know you can call for Qiao or Kuai if you get lost or need something."

"Yes ma'am," Mr Wright mock salutes and Harry smiles a bit at how it makes Ms Chang roll her eyes before she turns around and guides them inside.

Stepping past the wooden door makes Harry have to blink a few times as he stares at the very large living room, the floors are still the same as the room before but the walls went from bright white to light brown and there's paintings spread around, some even moving. He barely even notices Mr Wright guiding him to the large cream-coloured couch, eyes wide and focused on a painting of a boat in a stormy sea on the wall behind it, the paint moving just like strong waves and even brightening when a steak of white makes it past the grey painted clouds almost like real lightning and he nearly expects to hear the thunder after it, feeling surprised when it doesn't come.