The ride to the Deadwood's wasn't all that bad Harry recalled. Clark and Claris spent the first ten minutes of it clicking back and forth between stations before Clark reached over to Claris' visor, selected a CD and played it. Harry was drifting off to sleep when a large bump woke him up and the car parked outside a large house. There was another car parked in front of the garage and a dangly woman leaning against it. Harry could tell that this was their mother because of the resemblance between her and Clark and Claris. She had their piercing blue eyes and shared Claris' facial features.

"You alright, Harry?" she asked with an unmistakable British accent. "I hope these two didn't wear you out before you got here." She smiled at Claris and Clark, who where trying to unload the car.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Deadwood." Harry said getting out of the back seat.

"Oh you can call me Hannah. Everyone does." She turned to her children. "Dears, your father should be apparating home soon. Why don't you let him take care of the trunk? It looks like it will be easier with his blasted magic." She sighed, then looked down at her watch "I must be off, my lunch break is almost over. Sorry to cut this meeting short, Harry but we'll get to talk more later." With that she got into the car and pulled away.

"Your mum doesn't like magic?" Harry asked, staring after her.

"She doesn't mind it, but she likes to kid Dad about being a wizard," Clark answered.

"It's an odd joke between them," Claris added. "Shall we go inside?" She grabbed Harry's bag and led them inside the house. When Harry got inside he heard a large crack beside him. A tall man with short messy brown hair and brown eyes appeared.

"Well, look at my timing." The man grinned.

"Daddy!" Claris squealed. "You hungry? I was about to make something."

"Famished, but ahh... I'm afraid I can't stay for lunch. Thought I'd pop in to see how my favorite set of twins were getting along."

Harry saw Clark roll his eyes.

"You think while you're here you could pop the trunk out of the car?" Clark asked. Mr. Deadwood in response disappeared and then reappeared a second later with the trunk.

"There you go, it was wedged in there pretty good. Must be off. Be good kids." He eyed Clark and with another crack he was gone.

"Are they usually like this?" Harry asked helping Clark drag the trunk up the stairs.

"Who, the parents? Just on weekdays." Claris was following behind them.

"Wait, till you see them on weekends." Clark grunted.

Harry and Clark where finishing putting a few of his things into drawers when Claris burst into the room.

"Hey, I got our letters from the Salem Institute!"

"The what?"

"Our letters from school. Here you go." She passed the letter out and were quickly opened.

"Oh great it looks like Ms. Cartwright is teaching transfiguration this year." Clark looked distastefully at the list of books and classes.

"You think Mom and Dad will help pay for all these? There's more here then on our previous lists."

"I hope so. I need new robes too."

"Clark, I know your not gonna buy new robes. You're gonna use the money to buy Filibusters to terrorize the freshman with!"

"They're freshman. It's our duty as upperclassman to terrorize them."

Harry watched the exchange with growing apprehension and homesickness. Their fighting was reminding him of how Ron and Hermione would fight.

"I'm done arguing with you Clare! I say we ask Mom and Dad tonight for money then go to the Horizon Mall tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me. What do you think, Harry?"

"Yea, sounds good."

"OK. Lunch anyone?" Claris was moving towards the doorway, with Clark following.

"What are you going to cook? We wouldn't you poisoning anyone."

"Now that you mention it if you don't stop hounding me, I think I'll put something in your veal tonight."

"Oh, and when did you learn to cook that? I didn't think you even knew how to cook."

"Oh aren't you just the charmer! Just because you're the master chef of the family doesn't mean I can't pick up a few recipes myself."

Harry laid back on the bed listening to the sound of their voices drift off into the rest of the house.