Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, and most of my ideas belong to other people. If you see something I may have um… borrowed from somewhere else or someone else's story tell me and I will try to fix it to give the source credit.
Marge was unused to caring for a young boy. She never even cared for her own brother. She was almost twenty years older than him, and had been living her own life before he was even born. While she had some memories from babysitting when he was little, she barely knew what a child even liked to eat.
While Harry was waiting for her, she had snuck into her room and found some old clothes for him to wear. They were her fiancés old clothes, which she shrunk quite a bit to fit the young lad. She cursed her brother for never growing up. He got that wife of his pregnant when he was only seventeen. At twenty-six years old, he was barely able to take care of himself, let alone his young family.
Handing Harry the clothes, she ushered him out the door. She walked to the back of her house, and opened her garage. Her old beat-up car was reliable, although not much to look at. She didn't have a car seat, and although at eight Harry didn't really need one, his size was more of a four year old. She sighed, and added another thing to the growing list of supplies she would need to pick up today.
Once in the car she started the hour long drive to town. She was not enjoying the awkward silence in her car. She turned on the radio and found some music to try to ease the tension. Once they finally got to town, she sighed relieved. She was happy to be put and around. Soon she would find the things she needed to make Harry better.
Her first stop was the doctors. She knew the doctor well, and luckily he dabbled in both worlds. He would be able to help Harry the best ways possible, and would keep his mouth shut. Harry just followed behind her, worrying, but not daring to say a word. He felt he had been lucky thus far, but there was no way it would last.