A/N: Ahem. As you've probably figured out, I'm introducing another one of the kids in this chapter. Meet Dustin.
Chapter Sixteen
"Katy told me you liked to draw, Dustin," Hermione said. He simply nodded, shuffling his feet and sticking his hands in his pockets. "Harry's got some things for you to do while you're here, unless you'd rather go out on a few errands with the boys and I."
Dustin shook his head, casting a rather alarmed look at the other boys, who were wrestling in the grass. "No, thanks."
He scratched his head, rubbing his soft dark hair with a hand.
"Where do I go?"
Hermione pointed him up the staircase. "First door on the left. Do you need anything?"
Dustin ducked his head. "No. I'm okay."
He shuffled up the newly sanded stairs, his footsteps light and barely hard enough to create sound on the stairs. Hermione watched him go, shaking her head slowly. It was strange, how differently each new child behaved away from their tight little group.
"Dustin?" Harry guessed as the boy approached. Dustin raised his deep brown eyes to him and half-shrugged. Harry was struck by how thoughtful those liquid eyes appeared, framed behind fringes of dark lashes. His dark hair was neatly combed to the side.
"That's me. She sent me up here."
"I suppose Hermione's left on her errands, then." Harry said, more to himself than anything. Then he grinned at Dustin, trying to make him feel welcome. "Come on in."
Dustin followed him into the room, still hunched over and casting a glance around the room. The walls had been newly wallpapered a soft yellow, and it smelled of new furniture and new things.
"Hermione told me you liked to do art," Harry said, picking up and plastic bag, "So I got you something to do while you were with us today."
He held out the sack. Dustin extended a hand cautiously and gripped the handle.
Harry watched him carefully as he slipped a hand into the bag.
Surprise crossed his face, casting his eyes in a curious light. He pulled out several pieces of wood, long and narrow. He looked up at Harry, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"I thought you might like to make a sign for each room and one for the kitchen," he explained, "One for each of you. This is Jackie's room."
Again, surprise animated his quiet features, enough that he spoke.
"You mean, we each have our own room?"
Harry smiled slightly.
"Yeah," he said, as Dustin drew out tubes of paint and brushes. "So what do you say?"
A smile spread across his face, wide and toothy. He looked Harry in the eye for the first time, straightening his shoulders.
"I want to."
"Brilliant," Harry said warmly, "Hermione wants you to paint downstairs-I'll show you."
Dustin put all his supplies away in the bag carefully and followed Harry out the door. Harry glanced at him, pleased at his happy expression.
He was beginning to see why Hermione felt so strongly about making this house the best home it could be.
As they crossed the kitchen, Dustin spoke up suddenly.
"Are you going to be in the house with us?"
Harry hesitated.
"Well-"
"Because I don't think I'd mind if you were," Dustin said in a rush, as if he were afraid his sentence was going to be cut off in the middle. Harry pulled open the door at the back of the kitchen.
"I don't know," Harry said at last, "but here's the work room, Dustin."
He turned around and watched Dustin's face.
A workbench and table was built into the wood wall on the right, already neatly filled with tools, art supplies, and building blocks. Several tables sat in the center of the room, and a chalkboard sat at the front of the room.
"Hermione reckons you kids seem to be a creative bunch. She says you'll be using these for lessons, too."
He grinned.
"I built that for you, mate," he said, pointing to the front right corner of the room. Dustin dashed over to the easel. "Took me forever to get it right, and I had a bit of help-Katy's pretty clever with tools for her age."
"Thank you," Dustin said faintly, transfixed on the gleaming wooden easel. "Thank you."
"Brilliant," Harry said, savoring the thrilled look on the normally quiet features of the boy, waving his wand and turning on some lights, "You can get started whenever you like. I might watch, though."
"Okay," Dustin whispered absently, touching the easel reverently. "Yasmine showed me a picture of one of these once, but this is better."
"Well, I think Katy had the same idea," Harry said, coming to stand beside him. "If you like, you can push that plank back-like this-and it'll be a slanted desk."
Dustin looked at him, his eyes wide. Then he grinned, his crooked front teeth appearing for a brief moment before he turned his attention on setting up his supplies.
"There's a palette in there, too." Harry pointed to the wood palette. "For you to mix paint on."
"Water?" Harry reached out and snagged one of the empty cups resting on the workbench. With his wand, he filled the cup with cold, clear water. Dustin took it and placed it on the floor next to him.
"Don't forget to make one for the kitchen, the workroom, and the living room," Harry reminded him, as Dustin unscrewed the first cap.
"I can do whatever I want?" Dustin asked suddenly. He turned his head and studied Harry carefully. Harry smiled.
"Anything you want. I reckon you know the others better than anyone else."
Dustin ducked his head again, squirting a blob of a vibrant red onto the palette. He squinted one eye, examining its color, then reached for the white, digging around in the bag.
He squirted a glistening white onto the palette, then carefully used his brush to swirl the two colors together, creating a bright pink.
"Yasmine's better at letters," he said abruptly, "I've never tried painting anyone's name before."
He painted the whole front of the plank pink. His strokes were careful, firm. The wood's dark brown disappeared beneath the smooth pink paint. Harry grinned as Dustin paused again, squinting the other eye at the plank and nodding in satisfaction.
He splashed his brush into the cup of water at his feet. The pink bloomed into the clear water, leaving it bright pink and splashing against the sides of the cup.
One quick stroke left a curved line of white at the left of the plank, brilliant and curly at the end. Dustin's squinted eye never left the plank as he dabbed his brush into the white again, and began a curly `a' alongside the `j'.
Harry watched as he carefully formed Jackie's name on the plank.
"Jackie," Harry read as he finished. "Good job-that looks great!"
Dustin looked at him and grinned slowly. The smile stretched cautiously across his thin face, almost lazily. His dark eyes gleamed suddenly as he raised his brush and waved it. He left a streak of white across his flushed cheek as he lowered it.
"Wait," was all he said, popping open the brown tube and squirting a good amount of rich brown from the tube.
As Harry watched, he guided the brush to create three brown circles, one large one, and two smaller ones resting on top of it.
The brush burrowed itself into the mountain of white on the palette, then painted a dot in the center of each of the smaller circles.
He squeezed a gleaming pile of black onto the palette, and gently traced a shiny nose, two shiny eyes, and a big smile onto the dark brown circle. The brush landed in the water for several quick seconds, and then dipped into the pink one more time. Carefully, Dustin painted a large pink tongue sticking out of the wide grin.
Harry grinned, looking at Dustin.
"Oats," they said together, and in that moment, Harry felt Dustin's dark eyes smile directly at him. He slung an arm around the boy's thin shoulders. "Looks exactly like him."
"Not really," Dustin said, shaking his head, "He hasn't got a tongue. But he's close."
Harry chuckled, ruffling his dark hair.
"He's fantastic."
A white flash of a grin, and Dustin's ears moved slightly with the smile. "Thanks."
There was a silence, before Dustin said, "You can call me Dusty, if you want."
Harry registered the silent offer of friendship, and he took it.
"So why do they call you Dusty?"
Dusty strode over to the chalkboard, picked up a thin piece of white chalk, and started drawing on the black expanse.
When he stepped back, an elaborate drawing of Harry and Dusty greeted Harry's eyes. Each line was surprisingly accurate, every stroke and detail carefully placed. Dusty smiled his slow, lazy smile at Harry's obvious surprise and held up his hands, pale with chalk dust.
"Dusty."
Harry grinned back.
"And brilliant at it."
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