of paper and wishes

Really?

Scarlett held out the toys, and Harry looked at her, disbelieving. "Really?" he asked. She nodded. Harry gingerly grabbed them and put them in the plastic bags that served as his luggage. Together the four traipsed downstairs. 

Getting into the taxi proved to be difficult, due to Dudley's luggage, and he had to throw 5 things out. Even then, it was a tight fit. Harry fell asleep almost instantly, seemingly not bothered by Dudley's whining. He reminded Joan of some of her army mates, who, over the years, had developed the ability to sleep anywhere, anytime, in less then 30 seconds. Scarlett meanwhile, made a point of ignoring the other, fatter boy in favour of annoying Lestrade via texts.

A few hours later, Harry had gotten himself and Dudley sorted with minimum fuss into the available rooms. Getting downstairs, he glanced at the clock to see it was lunch time. At first he wondered if his new family had a maid, like on the T.V when he sneaked glances at it, then shrugged and made his way to the kitchen. He hadn't seen one the entire time he was here. "Where are you going, Harry?" he turned to see Scarlett and Joan. Dudely was still sulking in front of the T.V and didn't look over at him at all, like usual. "Setting up lunch," he said casually, peering into the fridge and ignoring the body parts. While unusual, it was less important then making sure Dudley didn't throw a fit if his food wasn't served on time. "You don't have alot of stuff to work with," he mused, missing the suprised glance Joan threw at him. "Do you guys want shephard's pie and bacon, or fried noodles with tofu?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.   He didn't entirely know what the two women prefered, unlike the Dursley's. He felt a slim hand on his shoulder as he turned to get a pair of oven mitts when they didn't answer. Shephard's pie, in his experince, was always the safest bet when you didn't know what people liked. Pausing as the hand tightened, he  turned to see Scarlett looking at him with a weird expression. "What? If you don't like Shephard's I can make cherry pie," he offered. "Do you always cook?" Joan asked for her wife when Scarlett didn't answer. "Yeah. I started when I was two and my teacher said I was tall enough to reach the oven," he said proudly. He didn't really trust his uncle and aunt's opinions so he'd asked his teacher in slightly garbled English that she only just understood. "Does Dudely know how to?" Joan asked, gently prying Scarlett's fingers off of him. "No,"wondering why they were asking him this, he dug into the pantry to find the flour needed for the pie. "Let him cook Harry," Scarlett finally said, her physical abuse analaysis done. He turned in complete suprise. "Dudley? He'll burn the house down! The first time I tried teaching him when I was five he almost burnt my hands off!"