Chapter 12 - A Casual Week

The laboratory buzzed with its usual energy as Harry walked in, greeted by the hum of machines, the smell of sterilizing agents, and the chatter of his labmates. It was Monday morning, and the excitement was palpable—they were finally working with live bees today, having spent the last week fine-tuning their experimental protocols in virtual simulations.

Mark, the affable team leader with an easygoing demeanor, leaned against the edge of the main workstation. His sharp green eyes narrowed as Harry entered. "Look who decided to grace us with his presence! Harry Potter, returning from his mysterious sabbatical. Care to explain, or do we have to bribe you with coffee?"

Jerry, the self-proclaimed office comedian with a mop of unruly hair and a penchant for puns, chimed in. "Yeah, mate. Was it some secret mission? Don't tell me you moonlight as a superhero. Although, to be fair, I'd believe it."

"Superhero? Nah, not with that hair," Katerina teased, adjusting her safety goggles as she prepared her station. Her sharp wit and dry humor were second only to her love of meticulous detail.

Harry smirked, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, all right, calm down, everyone. No superhero antics, I promise. Just some… family stuff."

Sneha, perched on a stool while jotting notes in her pristine notebook, glanced up with concern. "Family stuff? Everything okay?" she asked softly. Her empathetic nature made her the heart of the group.

Harry nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, all sorted now. Just the usual chaos. You know how it is."

Mark raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Good to have you back. We were starting to think you'd decided simulations were more fun than the real thing."

Harry chuckled. "Not a chance. I've been itching to get my hands on those bees."

"Hands?" Jerry quipped, pretending to shudder. "Let's hope not. Those little guys might have something to say about that."

Katerina smirked. "It's the bee behavior we're studying, Jerry, not your penchant for terrible jokes. Though I imagine the bees might appreciate the buzzword puns."

"That's the spirit, Kat! You're finally getting into my wavelength," Jerry grinned.

"You wish."

James, who was usually quiet but always observant, spoke up from his corner. "Speaking of bees, where's Dr. Mallory? Isn't she supposed to be here by now with our little volunteers?"

Mark checked his watch. "She said she'd be running late. Traffic or something."

"Ah, good," Harry said, taking a seat and leaning back. "Plenty of time to roast me then, yeah?"

"Obviously," Sneha said with a mock-serious nod. "You've been missed. Who else is going to handle Jerry's jokes so we don't have to?"

Jerry feigned hurt. "Hey! I bring light to this dreary lab."

"More like a headache," Katerina retorted, though the faint smile on her lips softened the jab.

Harry laughed, feeling the tension in his chest ease slightly. But as the conversation meandered, he caught Mark's sharp gaze again. It was subtle, but Mark had noticed something—how Harry's usual confidence felt a little more forced, his grin a little too quick. Harry looked away, fiddling with a pen on the desk.

Mark didn't say anything, just gave a small nod to himself and redirected the conversation. "All right, enough about Harry's secret life. Let's talk logistics while we wait for Mallory. Sneha, you've got the protocol ready?"

Sneha brightened, pulling out a neat stack of papers. "Absolutely. We've divided the whole experiment into three broad groups—hovering and maneuverability, stability in flight and lastly energy efficiency. The simulations suggested we'd be able to observe the flight patterns and rapid wing adjustments of bees within twenty minutes of exposure, but we'll be monitoring for up to an hour."

"Cool. And Katerina, you've got the observation logs ready?"

"Of course," she said, tapping her clipboard. "And I triple-checked the data sheet templates this morning."

"Jerry, James, you're on equipment calibration, yeah?"

Jerry saluted dramatically. "Yes, Captain."

James simply nodded, already walking to the workstation.

As the team fell into their rhythm, Harry felt himself relax further. This was his space, his people. He might have secrets he couldn't share, but here, amidst the banter and focus, he felt like he belonged.

Jerry, of course, wasn't done. "So, Harry, family drama aside—any heroic plans for when we release the bees? You gonna do a Braveheart speech? 'They may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!'"

Harry snorted, finally shaking off the last of his nerves. "Only if you agree to be the one wearing a kilt."

The lab erupted into laughter, and for the first time that day, Harry felt a genuine smile spread across his face. Whatever challenges he was dealing with outside, here in the lab, he could just be himself.

Dr. Mallory entered the lab briskly, her usually calm demeanor replaced with a trace of excitement. In her hands, she carried a small glass jar, cradled protectively like a treasure. Inside, three bumblebees buzzed, their tiny movements captivating the entire room.

The group immediately noticed.

"Oh my goodness, they're adorable!" Sneha exclaimed, rushing over to get a closer look. She crouched slightly, watching the bees with wide eyes.

"Adorable?" Katerina said, walking over but unable to keep the soft smile off her face. "They're fascinating. Look at the precision of their wing movements."

Jerry, of course, couldn't help himself. "You're all acting like we just adopted kittens. They're bees! Next thing, you'll be naming them."

Dr. Mallory smiled indulgently. "Jerry, don't tempt me. I already named them in my head—Newton, Curie, and Ada."

The group laughed, while Harry joined the others, peering curiously at the bees. "I have to admit," he said, "Newton's got a solid buzz going."

"Let's not get too attached, people," Mark interjected, though his tone was amused. "They've got work to do, and so do we."

Dr. Mallory raised a hand, signaling for calm. "All right, all right, enough chit-chat. Let's get to work." She placed the jar gently on the table and straightened up, adopting her usual professional tone. "First things first—everyone, protective goggles on."

There was a rustling of movement as the team complied, reaching for their goggles.

"And," Dr. Mallory added, gesturing to a rack in the corner, "you'll notice the hazmat suits I borrowed. Yes, they're oversized. Yes, they're cumbersome. And yes, you're all wearing them. Bees are delicate creatures, but if they get startled or agitated, we don't want anyone at risk of stings."

Jerry groaned dramatically as he picked up a suit. "I knew today would sting."

"Keep up the jokes and you'll be running the cleanup crew," Katerina shot back, already halfway into her suit.

Once everyone was suited up, Dr. Mallory turned her attention to the group. "Here's the plan: Harry, you're with me. You'll help me handle the bees directly. It's delicate work, so follow my lead. Mark, you're on observation and data recording—every tiny movement or reaction gets logged. Everyone else, you're either recalibrating or moving equipment based on mine or Mark's instructions. Clear?"

A chorus of agreement rang out, though Jerry muttered something about "bee-ing bossed around."

Dr. Mallory ignored him, focusing on Harry. "Let's start by transferring the first bee to the observation chamber. Come here."

Harry stepped forward, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. Dr. Mallory opened the jar slightly, her movements precise and deliberate. "Hold this pair of tweezers," she instructed, handing him a delicate tool. "We're using this to gently guide the bee into the chamber. Steady hands, Harry."

He nodded, taking the tweezers carefully. The room fell silent as everyone watched. The bee, Newton, buzzed lazily near the jar's opening. Harry followed Dr. Mallory's movements, gently nudging the bee forward.

"Good, good," Dr. Mallory encouraged. "Nice and easy. Almost there."

With a faint hum, Newton entered the chamber. Dr. Mallory sealed it quickly and turned to the group. "That's one down. Now, Mark, let's start the equipment."

Mark adjusted his goggles and moved to his station, activating the cameras and motion sensors around the chamber. "All right, we're live. Cameras are recording at 240 frames per second. Sensors are calibrated to track wing movement, position, and velocity."

"Perfect," Dr. Mallory said, gesturing to Katerina. "Adjust the chamber's airflow to mimic low-wind conditions."

"On it," Katerina replied, moving to the control panel. "Wind speed at 0.5 meters per second."

Jerry and James hovered near the secondary setup, ready to recalibrate as needed. "Hey, Mark," Jerry called out. "Your favorite screen is showing a tiny lag in the frame rate. Want me to tweak it?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah, fix that. We can't afford even a millisecond delay."

Jerry smirked. "Millisecond delay? You're such a perfectionist."

"That's why the data's accurate," Mark shot back, not missing a beat.

Meanwhile, Harry watched as Dr. Mallory tapped the chamber gently. "Newton's moving. Watch for the wing patterns. Mark, you seeing this?"

"Yep," Mark confirmed, his voice focused. "Initial hover attempt looks stable. Wing beats at 230 Hz, consistent with the simulations."

Dr. Mallory leaned closer to the chamber. "Good. Let's introduce a minor disturbance. Harry, tap the chamber lightly—just enough to mimic a gust of wind."

Harry hesitated, then did as instructed. The bee adjusted its position almost instantly, stabilizing mid-air.

"Remarkable," Sneha murmured, jotting notes.

"Efficient stabilization," Mark added. "Energy output increased slightly, but within expected parameters."

"Excellent," Dr. Mallory said, her tone proud. "Harry, let's prepare the second bee."

The process repeated, with each bee providing new insights. The lab was alive with discussion, laughter, and the occasional groan when Jerry tried to lighten the mood too much.

By the time the third bee's data was logged, the team felt the thrill of accomplishment. Dr. Mallory beamed. "Fantastic work, everyone. We've got solid data to analyze. Let's wrap up for today and start processing the results tomorrow."

As the group cleaned up, Harry felt a surge of pride. Despite everything going on outside the lab, here he was part of a team—a family of sorts—working together to make something extraordinary.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

As Harry exited the lab, his bag slung over his shoulder, he noticed Mark leaning casually against the wall outside. Mark gave him a lopsided grin and straightened up.

"Hey, wanna grab a bite before you head off?" he asked, his tone easygoing, though his eyes held a hint of curiosity.

Harry glanced at his watch. There was still time before Vernon's class ended, so he smiled and nodded. "Sure, why not?"

The two fell into step together, the familiar buzz of campus life fading as most students had already dispersed for the day.

"So, what were you up to over the weekend?" Mark asked as they strolled toward the cafeteria.

Harry hesitated briefly but decided to steer the conversation away from his magical revelations. "Dudley and I went to a DnD session. You know, the usual chaotic dice rolls, ridiculous plans, and arguments over whether a door was trapped or not."

Mark chuckled. "You're still into that, huh? Who do you play as?"

"A wizard, actually. Not exactly subtle, I know," Harry said, smirking. "But it's fun. I spent half the session trying to outwit a mimic that had disguised itself as a treasure chest. Didn't end well."

"Let me guess," Mark teased, "your 'genius plan' backfired?"

"Spectacularly," Harry admitted, laughing. "But it was worth it. What about you? How was your weekend?"

Mark's expression brightened. "Pretty good, actually. Went to the water park with some mates. The slides were insane—felt like I left my stomach at the top a few times."

"Sounds like a blast," Harry said. "What else?"

"Oh, visited a local drone company. Got some ideas for our project," Mark said nonchalantly, but his tone betrayed his excitement.

"That's awesome!" Harry replied, genuinely interested. "What kind of ideas?"

Mark grinned but shook his head. "Can't say much. Signed an NDA."

"Tease," Harry said with mock annoyance, bumping Mark's shoulder lightly.

They reached the cafeteria, which was mostly empty, save for a few lingering students. The lights cast a warm glow, and the hum of the air conditioner filled the quiet space.

Mark gestured toward the counter. "My treat. What are you having?"

Harry started to protest. "Mark, you don't have to—"

"Harry," Mark interrupted, raising a hand, "don't make me pull rank here. Burger and chips, right?"

Harry sighed in defeat. "Fine. But chocolate shake instead of coke."

Mark nodded, ordering for both of them. They collected their trays—Mark with his burger, chips, and coke, and Harry with the same but a thick chocolate shake. They chose a secluded table near the air conditioner and settled in.

"So," Harry began after a sip of his shake, "tell me more about the drone company."

Mark leaned back, his expression suddenly cautious. "Like I said, NDA. Can't even tell you the name."

Harry raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Not even a little hint?"

Mark smirked, then relented slightly. "Fine. I can show you some rough designs I sketched down. But no names, no details."

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small notebook, flipping it open to reveal intricate diagrams of drones. Harry's eyes widened as he leaned closer.

"These are incredible," Harry said, tracing the air above one of the sketches. "The way you've integrated the stabilizers—this could be a game-changer."

Mark grinned. "Thanks. The company's working on some cutting-edge stuff. But, yeah, this is all hush-hush."

Harry nodded, impressed, but Mark's gaze turned thoughtful as he closed the notebook. "By the way, you've been a bit… off today," Mark said casually, though his tone carried concern. "Is everything okay? Family stuff?"

Harry froze momentarily, caught off guard. Mark had always been perceptive. "It's nothing serious," Harry said quickly, trying to deflect. "Not a medical emergency or anything."

Mark didn't look convinced. "Harry, come on. I showed you sketches from a project I'm legally bound not to talk about. You can trust me."

Harry hesitated, glancing around the cafeteria. It was nearly empty. Finally, he sighed. "Okay. But you can't tell anyone, Mark. Not even Sneha or Jerry."

Mark narrowed his eyes but nodded. "Scout's honor."

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm… withdrawing from the university."

Mark's jaw dropped. "What? Why?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his decision. "I got a visit from the alma mater of my parents. It's… a unique opportunity, and I feel like I need to explore this connection to them. It's something I've always wondered about, and now I have the chance."

Mark stared at him, trying to process the information. As an orphan himself, he understood the pull of wanting to know more about one's origins. "What's the school like?" he asked softly.

"I don't know much yet," Harry admitted. "It's a co-ed boarding school, pretty remote. They don't allow mobile phones or communication devices, but I can write letters."

Mark frowned. "That's strict. You sure about this?"

Harry nodded, his voice firm. "I want to understand where I come from. It's important to me."

Mark leaned back in his chair, his expression conflicted. Finally, he said, "If this is what you want, I won't stop you. But… you'll keep in touch, right? Letters?"

"Definitely," Harry said, his voice thick with emotion.

The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable silence, both lost in their thoughts. When they finished, Mark walked toward the parking area while Harry headed toward Vernon's office.

At the crossroads, Mark turned to Harry. "Hey, just so you know, you'll always have a friend here. Whenever you're back, you've got someone to talk to."

Harry smiled, deeply touched. "Thanks, Mark. That means a lot."

Mark nodded, giving him a small wave as they parted ways.

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The enticing aroma of roast chicken and freshly baked bread greeted Vernon, Harry, and Dudley as they walked through the door. Petunia called out from the kitchen, her voice warm and cheerful.

"Perfect timing! Dinner's ready."

"Smells amazing, love," Vernon said, hanging up his coat and heading to the dining room, followed closely by the boys.

Harry slid into his seat, smiling at Petunia as she brought out a tray of golden roasted vegetables. Dudley was already helping himself to a large serving of mashed potatoes.

"Careful, Dudders, save some for the rest of us," Petunia teased, setting the tray down.

"Can't help it, Mum. Leg day," Dudley said with mock seriousness, earning chuckles from around the table.

"So, how was the gym today, Duds?" Petunia asked, serving herself a generous helping of pie.

"Not bad. Leg day's still killing me, though," Dudley replied with a chuckle, massaging his thigh theatrically.

Harry grinned. "He spent half our ride home comparing himself to a newborn deer."

"Accurate," Dudley said with mock seriousness, making everyone laugh.

Harry smirked, grabbing the bowl of peas. "He's right. You don't know the struggles of leg day."

"Oh, please," Vernon cut in, his tone good-natured. "You'd think he was training for the Olympics."

"Amateur meets, Dad," Dudley corrected with a laugh, pointing his fork at Vernon.

"What about you, Harry?" Petunia asked. "Busy day at the lab?"

"Yeah, just wrapped up some simulations," Harry replied. "Mark and I grabbed a bite after. He was showing me some cool drone designs."

"Mark's a good influence on you," Vernon said approvingly. "Knows his stuff, that one."

Petunia smiled at Harry. "I'm glad you have friends who share your interests. It's good for you."

"Thanks, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, feeling a familiar warmth at her supportive tone.

The light chatter flowed easily as they ate. Vernon shared a funny story about a student's hilarious misinterpretation of a lab assignment, while Petunia filled them in on her recent project at work. The meal was relaxed, filled with laughter and the clinking of utensils.

After dinner, they all moved to the cozy sitting room. Petunia settled with her laptop trying to run some codes she typed today, while Dudley put on headphones to watch a fitness tutorial on his phone. Harry and Vernon took up their usual spots by the coffee table, a stack of books from Diagon Alley between them.

"All right, let's start with this one." Harry handed Vernon The Book of Dissections by Zhao Xin.

Vernon flipped it open, scanning a section about transforming a matchstick into a needle. "Huh. It says here that to transfigure animals, you need to understand their anatomy. But… this diagram of a frog's digestive system is all wrong. The stomach's in the wrong place entirely."

Harry frowned, peering over. "You're right. And look at this part about plants. It says trees have 'breathing roots'? That's not even a thing."

Shaking his head, Vernon grabbed a notebook and jotted down their observations. "We should correct this. You need proper information, not magical guesswork, if you're going to do this properly."

Harry nodded eagerly. "Maybe we could make a booklet. Combine accurate biology and magical theory so I can approach this like an experiment."

"Exactly." Vernon clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll have a real edge that way."

Next, they moved to Natural Phenomena by Nicholas Smith. Vernon opened to his bookmarked pages. "Look here. It talks about creating weather effects with charms, but it completely misrepresents how clouds form. This charm supposedly skips condensation entirely."

Harry snorted. "So magic just ignores the water cycle, huh?"

"Seems like it." Vernon laughed, scribbling down more notes.

Switching gears, Harry pulled out A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. They pored over spells that turned objects into animals, their curiosity piqued.

"Wait," Harry said, pointing to a passage. "It says you can turn a rock into a bird. But… where does the life come from?"

Vernon frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Does it say?"

Harry grabbed Transcending Transfiguration by Dumbledore and flipped through the index. "Here. It says the 'life' is simulated using a combination of animation charms and observations the caster has made of the creature's behavior."

"Ah," Vernon said, leaning back. "So it's not really alive. It just acts alive because the magic makes it mimic what you know about living things."

"That makes way more sense than conjuring life out of thin air," Harry agreed, tapping the book thoughtfully.

They turned to The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), reviewing the charms Harry would learn in his first trimester.

"Lumos, Nox, Wingardium Leviosa," Harry read aloud. "Why's the last one two words?"

"Good question," Vernon mused.

Harry flipped through a codex of electives, finding the answer. "Here it says these things would be covered under Spellcrafting elective. It says students learn to break down, create, and modify spells, but you need to pass a test. The prerequisites are proficiency in Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and all five years' worth of spells."

Vernon raised an impressed eyebrow. "Ambitious. But worth aiming for."

"I thought so too," Harry said, grinning. He turned the page. "There's another elective I like—Fociilore. It's about magical tools and their history."

"Same prerequisites?" Vernon asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I was thinking of taking Ancient Runes and Arithmancy after my first trimester since there aren't any prerequisites for those."

"Good plan." Vernon patted him on the back. "And if Arithmancy's anything like mathematics, we can tackle the whole course before you even get to Hogwarts."

Harry's chest warmed at Vernon's confidence in him. "Of course, Uncle Vernon. With you as my tutor, they won't know what hit them."

Vernon chuckled, ruffling Harry's hair. "That's the spirit, lad."

The evening ended with them jotting down notes and making plans for their next trip to Diagon Alley, both excited for the challenges ahead.

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Next day the team had shifted their focus entirely to studying the intricate flight patterns of bees. Harry found himself mesmerized by the tiny creatures, their movements almost poetic as they buzzed from one meticulously placed flower to another under controlled conditions.

Mark, Harry's lab partner, frequently leaned over with quips like, "I swear, they're taunting us with their precision." Harry would chuckle in agreement, jotting down observations and thinking ahead to the exciting prospect of modeling a drone inspired by these natural marvels.

In the evenings, Harry and Dudley retreated to their shared haven of RPGs, Marvel, and DC comics. Their current obsession was debating the finer points of a hypothetical battle between Doctor Strange and Green Lantern.

"You're missing the point, Harry!" Dudley said, gesturing animatedly with his controller. "Green Lantern's constructs are only limited by his imagination. He could just cage Strange before he even casts a spell!"

Harry shook his head, leaning forward. "But you're forgetting how versatile Strange is. He doesn't just throw spells; he manipulates reality. Your lantern's constructs wouldn't even exist if Strange decides they don't."

Dudley groaned. "Fine, but then you'd have to assume Strange knows exactly what he's dealing with. Green Lantern could throw something unpredictable, like—like a cosmic yo-yo!"

Harry burst out laughing. "A cosmic yo-yo? That's your trump card?"

Their laughter echoed through the house, and Vernon passed by the open door, shaking his head fondly. "Still debating imaginary battles, I see?"

"You bet!" Dudley replied.

"Well, keep it civil," Vernon teased. "Don't need a cosmic yo-yo breaking the house."

Later, Harry joined Vernon in the sitting room, books sprawled across the coffee table. They were slowly working through their magical collection, meticulously noting inaccuracies or points of interest.

"This one," Vernon said, holding up Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling, "claims that magical transference ignores conservation laws entirely. Ludicrous!"

Harry glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "What does it say?"

Vernon read aloud: "'Magic exists in a realm where physics cannot constrain it, allowing infinite energy transfer without loss.' Complete nonsense."

Harry snorted. "It's like they forgot physics exists. Maybe they never studied it."

"More likely, they've just accepted these principles without question," Vernon replied. "It's fascinating, really—magic operates with its own internal logic, but they don't seem to apply the scientific method to refine it."

Harry nodded, scribbling notes in the margins. "We definitely need more books. A magical library would solve so many of our questions."

"A pity we don't have one nearby," Vernon said wistfully. "Maybe next weekend's trip to Diagon Alley will help."

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Meanwhile, Petunia's ongoing coding lessons continued to be a cherished family activity. Dudley, now much more enthusiastic about coding than he used to be, sat at his laptop typing away while Harry followed along on his desktop.

Petunia stood behind them, her sharp eyes scanning their progress. "Harry, you're missing a semicolon on line 12. And Dudley, try not to hard-code that variable. Use a loop."

"Loops," Dudley muttered. "The bane of my existence."

Harry chuckled. "You'd think all those hours of grinding in RPGs would've prepared you for repetitive tasks."

"Funny," Dudley shot back, "but coding isn't like lifting weights. It's all brain, no brawn."

"Maybe, but you've come a long way," Petunia interjected warmly. "I still remember when you were convinced coding wasn't for you."

Dudley smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, well, physical stuff always felt easier. But you made it fun, Mum. And logical. That helped."

Harry grinned. "Remember when you'd bribe us with biscuits just to keep us at the computer?"

Petunia smirked. "And it worked, didn't it? Now you're both decent coders. But let me warn you—neither of you has worked on a team project yet. That's when coding becomes a horror show."

Dudley frowned. "How bad could it be?"

"Bad," Petunia said ominously. "Imagine a dozen different coding styles, mismatched logic, and someone accidentally deleting your work because they didn't push to the right branch."

Harry winced. "Okay, that does sound awful."

"You've been warned," Petunia said with a laugh.

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The week passed in this rhythm of productivity, learning, and shared interests. Whether it was debating superheroes, critiquing magical theories, or mastering code, the Dursley-Potter household buzzed with activity.

One evening, as they were wrapping up their coding session, Harry turned to Dudley. "You know, Mum's right. Coding does have its own kind of logic."

Dudley nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. It's about finding patterns and creating something out of nothing. Guess I don't mind it so much after all."

Petunia, overhearing them, smiled softly. "That's all I ever wanted for you boys—to see the value in learning something new."

As they closed their laptops and prepared for bed, the house settled into a calm quiet, each family member content in the knowledge that they were part of something warm, supportive, and unshakable. Everyone was excited as the weekend approached with their upcoming second visit to Diagon Alley just around the corner.