It was Ted who picked Harry up at King's Cross and quietly chuckled at the interactions between the sleepy teens and who he presumed to be the girl's mother. It felt as if it had been just yesterday when his daughter had acted like that rather than just bring her latest conquest down for breakfast and, if she was feeling generous, give that stranger a name.

Back in Kent, Harry was introduced to one Christmas tradition which had been absent at Privet Drive; baking Christmas desserts. And since it was a Muggle custom, Andromeda took to it with great zeal. Gingerbread, honey and butter biscuits, mince pies and Christmas pudding - Harry did his best to help wherever possible. After all, he'd get to eat them later on.

Dora's litter of Kittens still occupied the attic, although occasionally one would venture downstairs and fall asleep in the oddest of places. Harry found one on his bedside table and one in the bathroom sink. He still couldn't tell the little furballs apart, but Andi had begun to call them by their names, always happy to provide an anecdote of their namesakes. Although it was a little weird to look at an adorable kitten and hear about a distinguished enforcer of a dark witch or a feared mass murderer.

Christmas Eve passed with a quiet dinner when Harry and Dora once again laughed at Andromeda's disdain of everything even remotely connected to the traditions of the Black family. This manifested itself in the choice of dishes, starting with a bowl of Czech cabbage soup and ranging from an Icelandic roast and Polish dumplings to Portuguese fruit cake and Austrian boiled fillet. The only way to get further away from an English Christmas meal would have been a box of takeaway noodles. According to Dora, this was a little excessive, even by her mother's standards, but Harry could relate to distancing herself as far as possible from her relatives. After all, he had been doing the same thing with the Dursleys for years. And the warm feeling left in his stomach was entirely unrelated to the amount of food he had devoured.

Without the use of magic, the preparations would probably have taken a week, but instead, Harry had gotten a practical lesson on multitasking with magic. And, as he found out through a mauled carrot, animating a knife was a lot trickier than the toy soldiers and nutcrackers Flitwick used in his class.

Christmas Day began with a late breakfast, followed by a trip to Evenwood, where Dora's grandparents lived. Harry had been nervous since they technically were his family now, without as much as a by-your-leave. And indeed things were awkward, but less than Harry had feared. Mr Tonks was a tall man with a wide grin, a loud laugh and what was left of his few grey hairs stood off at odd angles. In the past, he must have been a loud, boisterous fellow, a stark contrast to his stoic son. Mrs Tonks, on the other hand, was a petite blonde with glasses which would have made her look as stern as Professor McGonagall if not for her kindly face. The elder Tonks couple shared a love for fishing and made weekend trips to rivers and lakes throughout the North. Mr Tonks also liked to tinker with cars, restoring classics. After a hearty lunch, Harry was led into a shed and given a crash course on car restoration while his uncle sat on a crate and drank a beer with his father.

"I have fixed planes for forty years, from Hurricanes to Phantoms. I know my way around an engine, and I have a lot of spare time. It all began with that Triumph Spitfire over there," he said with a gesture at the coupé which shared its colour with so many British sports cars. "Not as strong or fast as the Spitfires I used to work on for his Majesty, but just as beautiful. My brother got it for my sixtieth birthday from a scrapyard so that I wouldn't be bored. Then a friend asked me to fix his Princess and afterwards, well, it would have been a waste to just keep all these tools laying around. I know a man for the upholstery, everything else I do myself."

The pride in his voice was plain to hear, but Harry had to admit that if he had turned a pile of scrap back into a beautiful car, it was not unjustified. What followed was another crash course, this time on cars in general, which lasted half an hour. Mr Tonks talked about the different cars he had restored and sold, including his latest project, a yellow 1967 Mini. At the end of the admittedly overwhelming lecture, even Harry, who knew very little about cars, was quite certain that he would never buy anything from British Leyland should he ever need a car. And without really realising it, he had spent hours with his adoptive grandfather without even thinking about it.

The next day, Edward organised an outing Harry had not seen coming when he took the entire family to Filbert Street to see the boxing day match between Leicester City and Liverpool. The first half was a stalemate, but the second half was hard fought with a missed penalty and three goals for a final score of 1-2. Even though Harry didn't care about the teams or the sport, he enjoyed the match because the atmosphere was truly something else. He briefly wondered if the Quidditch World Cup final had been even better, but given what had happened afterwards, he didn't mind that he'd missed that.

"I know that it has been an eventful month for you, but have you tried to solve your clue for the second task?" Andromeda wanted to know once the next morning. Harry, who had a spoonful of porridge in his mouth, took a moment to reply.

"Yes, but I got nothing."

"No clue from the egg?"

"No, it just screeches as if I was torturing it."

"I just thought of something. What if you need to combine all four eggs? But with Diggory dead, you won't be able to solve it at all," Dora threw in, a sense of worry evident in her voice.

"I have been over the history of the Tournament, and there wasn't a single task where the contestants had to cooperate. There is no precedent," her mother pointed out in a final tone.

"But the Tournament was brought back to promote international relations. That is the new theme, so they might have included that in the tasks. It used to be measuring wands with the other schools to find out who's best."

"Hmm - Did you notice if the other champions have been doing something - unusual?" Andromeda asked Harry, her mind racing to come up with any ideas.

"Krum has been swimming in the Black Lake a few times, but I'm not sure if that's related to the Tournament or just some quirk of him. Remember that documentary about the crazy Russians who went swimming in a lake where they had to cut through the ice with a chainsaw before they could get in? Maybe he's been inspired by them."

"So maybe the second task is related to the Lake, or it allows you to train for it somehow - "

"I - I'm not sure. Fleur hasn't been seen swimming anywhere, so maybe it's just something his coach put him up to."

"Maybe. Durmstrang is supposed to be high in the Carpathian mountains, so they are probably used to the cold, but not the water."

"Do you have the egg with you?"

"Mum please - " her daughter tried to object after having already witnessed the awful wailing but was ignored as Harry went to fetch the supposed clue. Needless to say that when he opened the egg, Dora was proven right and her parents glad that the nearest neighbour lived half a mile from them. Otherwise, a pair of constables might come looking for the victim who had been brutally murdered.

Later that evening, the Tonks family had settled in front of the telly and Harry had to admit that his aunt was a little too much into the movie. Having read The Hunt for Red October and apparently having seen the movie a few times, she constantly compared the two and was rambling on, much to the amusement of her husband. Harry didn't care if Jack Ryan or Captain Ramius were too old, and most of the technical aspects were lost on him. It was quite ironic that he, despite having grown up around Muggles, knew less than a pureblood daughter of House Black with a bad case of fangirling.

Then again, nuclear missile submarines were not exactly the simplest of machines, and they carried around all kinds of devices which could fill a bookshelf on their own. But all of that was just the backdrop for the story, and Harry understood enough to follow the plot even without his aunt's explanations.

"Plus 14 seconds, plus 15 seconds, Captain, we are out of position by so much as a boat length!"

"Torpedo impact now 15 seconds!"

"Sound collision," the defecting captain replied calmly while the incoming weapon had acquired the Red October and its sonar pinged away wildly. The metallic echo sounded again and again until, suddenly, the image froze.

"Dad?"

"Didn't that sound remind you of anything?"

"Well, thanks to Mum this isn't the only submarine movie I've seen. I know sonar - "

"Not another movie. Think about this morning!"

"Dear, you are not making any sense," Andromeda pointed out, sounding something between amused at his sudden, unexplained eureka moment, curious to what his conclusion would be and annoyed that he paused the movie during a dramatic scene.

With a wave of his wand, the empty crisp bowl grew in size and filled itself with water while Edward went to fetch the egg from where they had left it on the kitchen counter. He then dropped it into what had become a small tub and opened the latch on its top. Harry once again braced himself for the inevitable aural torment only to be surprised by a muffled groan.

"Well, this is different," Dora remarked dryly and her father leaned closer to the tub in his lap in the attempt to hear whatever message was stored in the magical contraption. Eventually, he ended up dipping his ear into the water, followed by his head in an odd, sideways position.

"Pen and paper, please!"

"Where our voices sound - so the task will be in the Black Lake. But taken what you'll sorely miss?" Edward mused, drumming the pen against his lip.

"Probably a clue for the Third Task, much like the egg is for the second task."

"Would the clue really be what Harry would solely miss?" Andromeda asked no one in particular, but her daughter's answer was immediate.

"At the moment, no. But come the third task, and he will wish to have known whatever is in the new clue. If they just took gold or a broom from the Champions, they would look pretty vain and the stakes would not be high enough."

"This is pure guesswork," Edward cautioned. "However, I can't think of anything which would be a better guess or explanation."

"So I will have to fetch something from the lake within an hour? That's - not too bad actually. Hagrid doesn't like it since there are no interesting creatures there, so it should be easier than the dragon."

"What if it will be a hostage?" Dora threw in after a brief lull during which everyone had pondered his words. Her mother paled significantly at the idea.

"No, at two points the clue says what and not whom," Ted pointed out immediately, checking his notepad again to be sure.

"Maybe it's a translation error."

"No, there is no translation. The message is in the Queen's English, not in whatever language the merfolk speaks. The enchantments on the egg merely emulate the sound of their tongue, but it is still in English."

"The message is still given from the perspective of the merfolk," Harry was quick to point out. "There's every chance they view a human hostage as a what rather than as a whom."

A frown of concern came over Ted's face. He evidently hadn't thought of that possibility. An unsettling silence came over the group while they all tried desperately to think of a counterpoint.

"Well, I guess I'd better be prepared for the worst," Harry sighed, his voice a little shaky, betraying his fear.

"Who would be the one you would be the one you will most?"

Harry answered the question wordlessly by immediately looking at Dora, who got a dangerous grin when everyone turned towards her.

"Oh, if they really stick me down there, they won't know what hit them. All you have to do is get me a wand. After what Mad-Eye put me through during his special lessons, that lake will be a walk in the park. And Mum would give no quarter if anyone was stupid enough to use her as a hostage"

"With that taken care of, which spells do you reckon would be effective underwater? And how will I stay down there?" Harry asked, amused by the confidence the two witches showed.

"Some combat spells which do not explode. Explosions are a lot more devastating underwater and you could easily hurt yourself," Dora replied at once.

"Not to mention harm everything else within quite a large radius," added Ted. "The same goes for any kind of banishing charm. Fast-moving water can be quite dangerous for everyone around."

"Cutting curses are probably your best bet for self-defence," said Andromeda. "They're not too complicated and they're quite effective. Best of all, the water shouldn't affect them at all. Be mindful though, you'll need to be able to cast the spells non-verbally. You can't depend on your ability to use your voice while you're underwater, that would be downright dangerous."

"The bubblehead charm is quite useful for that," Tonks added. "It'll keep you underwater too, but it won't help at all with mobility."

"Inelegant because it needs concentration to be maintained, but you should learn it as a backup," Andromeda said with a tone of authority. "I will have to ask a few colleagues at work, but we should be able to throw something together."

"An underwater broom?"

"No, but we might use a lot of the enchantments which usually go onto them. I know that the one for stability works underwater. The ones for control should as well, and the…"

On New Year's eve, Harry found himself dropped off in Darlington Station by Dora, who then disapparated to London because she had drawn the night shift. He blended in with the crowd who just arrived from Saltburn, but before he was even halfway through the station hall, someone almost tackled him and before he realised what was going on, Lisa had him in a tight hug, her face just an inch from his.

"I've missed you," she whispered before kissing him softly.

"I've missed you too."

Back at Lisa's house, after a short time getting reacquainted, and without a great deal of talking, Harry and Lisa made their way downstairs to the living room, where Lisa's mum sat after returning from a visit to the next-door neighbours. She was reading a book that Harry couldn't see the cover of. As the young couple entered the room, she gave them a quick wave before folding over the corner of her page and placing the book on the arm of the sofa.

"Hi there, you two," she called. "All - caught up, are you?" she asked, a wry smile on her face. The two teenagers felt their faces heat up, but Lisa's mother just laughed. "I was young once too, you know."

"Hello, Mrs Turpin."

"So you are the boy who is mentioned in every letter I got this year. And please, call me Julia."

What followed might best be described as a gentle interrogation, although Mrs Turpin was nowhere near as crass with her teasing as Andromeda or Dora would have been. Mr Turpin joined them after a few minutes, still holding a bottle of wine the neighbours had gifted them. Contrary to Harry's fears, no one was polishing a shotgun or a knife collection and the threats made were limited to the game of Rummy which he lost quite decisively since it was his first time playing it. And the next one. And the third. Which led to more teasing about paying more attention to Lisa than to the cards played.

Lisa led Harry, both still red-faced, over to the other sofa and sat herself down, indicating for Harry to do the same. Once he had done so, she leaned into him and closed her eyes contentedly, pretending to no longer hear her parents, who seemed amused by the whole situation.

"So, are there any traditions I should be aware of?" asked Harry, who was all too eager to find out how a 'normal' family would celebrate the new year. And to prevent an awkward silence.

"We have traditional spring rolls because Lisa once vanished a roast she didn't like with her accidental magic. And the only place which was still open was a Vietnamese restaurant half a mile from here. The cook was very friendly, and so we ordered from there the next year as well. And every year since," her mother replied dryly and Harry couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

"Muuum!"

"Really?"

"I tried a new recipe from a friend - "

"The entire house reeked of burnt dill," Lisa cut in before her mother could go on with her version of events. "I did everyone a favour by making it disappear."

"How old were you?"

"Eight," the older woman said flatly although a smile was tugging on her lips. "Let me see if I can find the picture album - "

"No! No embarrassing pictures!" Lisa's face was a caricature of horror as she watched her mum leave the room. After a quick moment of denial, she resigned herself to her horrible fate.

"How do you take a picture of a roast which isn't there anymore?"

Around eight the rain, which hung over Darlington, paused its unrelenting downpour just long enough for the couple to stroll through the neighbourhood in between squalls.

The couple walked hand in hand, past All Saints' Church, through the quiet streets at the edge of the town. The fields between them and the old country house on the rural fringe were barren, the overgrown fence dividing them cast a menacing shadow against the eerie yellow glow of the one else seemed to be taking advantage of the brief moment of dry weather and they didn't meet a single soul on their way towards South Park. A few minutes passed and they had reached Grange Road when Lisa broke the comfortable silence.

"Harry, I think that I'm developing feelings for you," Lisa said, her head turned slightly towards him but her eyes hidden by her hair.

His stomach went through a series of twists and Harry felt a tingle run down his back. His heartbeat was suddenly unbearably loud and for a split-second, he knew his next words would have a big impact. Due to all of that, Harry missed a step and nearly fell face forward into the brick fence surrounding the garden of Number 185. A lone car driving past was the only sound and he could see his girlfriend's face fall.

"I - me too. I mean - I'm new to this and I don't know what exactly - but I like you - like like - " Once the floodgates were open, there was no stopping. "I've never really experienced this before, and you make me feel funny - well, not really funny, but it's an odd tingle - definitely not a bad feeling - but it's new and I really don't know how to describe it - "

"Harry?"

"I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry, this is new to me and I don't want to mess it up by accident."

"Me too," Lisa chuckled dryly. "Were both dumbasses, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, his voice hoarse. "Yeah, we are." Lisa's chuckle became stronger, and a smile broke out on her face as she gave his hand a firm squeeze. She looked up as she felt a cold drop of water hit her face. The bright light of the half-moon had dulled to a white glow, as the rain clouds looked set to resume unleashing their misery upon the north of England.

"Come on, Harry, let's get home before the rain gets heavy again."

"An outing where we aren't dripping wet in the end? Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?"

"Dumbass!"

When 1994 turned into 1995, Harry, Lisa and her family toasted the new year with a glass of champagne - although the teens had more orange juice than sparkling wine in their glasses.

"Be careful with the fireworks."

"Mum, we have a class where we cook volatile ingredients over an open fire, and we haven't blown ourselves up yet," Lisa argued indignantly.

"They aren't made to explode - " Marcus pointed out.

"Yes, but one boy manages that regularly nonetheless."

"Neville?" Harry asked. They didn't share Potions, but tales about his "abilities" were told throughout Hogwarts.

"Yes, Neville. I don't want to know how much money he has spent on replacement cauldrons and ingredients."

"Imagine being able to cast spells that fast," Lisa said as she watched the red, green and blue lights burst out of a Roman candle in groups of two and three.

"That's how it felt to duel my aunt," Harry replied without turning away from the colourful spectacle.

"You duelled your aunt?"

"I asked for - well it was supposed to be a lesson because I wanted to know how well I would do against a real opponent. I couldn't even keep a shield up for more than a moment," Harry lamented theatrically.

"How good is your Aunt?"

"Pretty good from what I've heard, but also leagues below the likes of Dumbledore."

"Then how fast does Dumbledore have to be given his reputation?"

"I don't think Dumbledore is about speed. He is known for the sheer scale of his magic. Where we'd struggle to transfigure one thing, he'd raise a horde of creations and command them like an army. At least that's what the Chocolate Frog trading card album said. And he was the only one who could truly contain Voldemort's Fiendfyre."

"What's that spell?" Lisa's mother wanted to know after following their conversation as if it was a fast-paced tennis match.

"Cursed fire. It burns everything it touches, growing in strength as it devours things. It is drawn to living things and takes the shape of creatures that are often considered to be evil, but it's very difficult to control. My aunt is really good with that spell, but it's creepy to watch her use it like my relative did with his lighter whenever he was bored."

"You can shoot sparks out of your wands, right?" Lisa's mother wanted to know.

"Yes, but that's not the same. It's just a light which flies up and floats above your head."

"I just wish that I could see more of what you are learning."

"I'm sure that my cousin could show you some magic," Harry offered and made a mental note to tell Dora that there are some feats she must not show off unless she wanted the Turpins to believe that she was mental.

"Can we watch another movie, Mum?"

"It's past one in the morning and ."

"We aren't tired yet. And we'll be quiet," Lisa promised with big eyes and her mother relented.

"Fine."

Lisa grabbed a VHS from the stack her parents had rented and inserted Terminator into the machine. However, she had barely spread a blanket over them and snuggled into Harry's side before they both fell asleep.

That was the position Julie Turpin found them in. The static of the TV was the only source of light in the darkened room as the pair slept on the sofa, and with some amusement, she noticed that it was Lisa who spooned her boyfriend and not the other way around.

It would really be too bad if someone was to take a picture of them and put it on the mantel…

AN:

Beta'ed and in parts co-written by LifeEquals42.

The progression of their relationship wasn't suave at all, which was fully intentional. It could have been a great source for drama, but I'm not fond of that type of conflict. Fanfics often have bad timing with such scenes, and they often feel very plastic. So I went for something different which hopefully felt more life-like and less like something written for the dramatic effect rather than as the logical conclusion of the previous character and relationship development. I'm not going to lie, it was pure agony to write and the reason for the long delay.

To address the reviews which point out that nothing is happening here or that certain chapters add nothing. This is a story about Harry's relationships, be it familial, romantic or platonic. It is tagged family and friendship. If you are looking for a nail-biting thriller or an action-filled story with many explosions, you have come to the wrong place and I'm seriously confused why it took you twenty chapters to notice that there's not a lot happening.