Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

JUNE, 1994

When Harry reached home after his Third Year, McGonagall was with him again.

Which was good because Sally was pretty close to blowing her lid.

The professor explained as much as she could while Harry showered, changed, and played with baby Percy, who almost recognised him.

When McGonagall left, Sally crushed Harry in her arms. Percy, who was in Harry’s arms, was squished between them. But he was possibly the happiest baby on the East Coast.

“Sorry, I worried you,” Harry mumbled into her shoulder.

Sally sniffed. She was shorter than him now. When she pulled back, her hands lingered on his shoulders, her brow furrowing as she studied his face. “You’re all right, aren’t you? That letter you sent! You said you were in danger, Harry. There’s so much... so much I don’t understand.”

“I’m okay,” he said, meeting her eyes. “Really. But I—Sally, I found out who betrayed my parents. It was Peter Pettigrew, not Sirius! Pettigrew’s alive. He—he’s been Scabbers all along. He faked his death to escape.”

Sally nodded slowly, pulling them to the couch. “Minerva didn’t mention that Sirius was innocent.”

“That’s because Fudge didn’t believe Hermione and me!” Harry complained. “Dumbledore knows, but we don’t have proof because Pettigrew got away.”

Harry told her his side of the story that the world didn’t know. If anything, Sally only got more clingy. Percy happily kicked out, pushing away from Harry to fly into his mother’s arms.

Sally held him close like a stress toy but didn’t squeeze him that hard, luckily enough.

“We can’t prove anything until we actually arrest Pettigrew. But the good thing is that Sirius is free. Buckbeak, too. They both flew off together. I—I think he’s going to be okay.”

Sally’s eyes filled with relief. “I want to believe that so much. But Harry, you’re still a child. You shouldn’t be fighting these battles. You shouldn’t be running off into the night, facing dangers that—”

“Sally—” Harry interrupted.

“No,” she said, shaking her head firmly, her eyes locking onto his. “You need to understand something, Harry. I don’t care about Sirius’s innocence right now. I care about you. I want you to be safe.”

“I am safe,” Harry insisted, his voice a little too sharp. “We made it out fine. I was able to use a Patronus to save Sirius—”

“Harry,” Sally interrupted, her voice breaking through his defiance. “You’re not listening to me. I know you care about Sirius, and I know how much you want to make things right. But you can’t keep risking your life like this. You’ve been through enough. You’ve seen enough. I won’t—”

She hesitated, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I won’t sit back and watch you get into trouble like this. After the possessed professor in your first year and the basilisk in the second, this is just as horrifying! What if Lupin attacked you? What if the dementors got too close?!”

Harry’s chest tightened.

“I know you want to fix things,” Sally said, her voice softening as she pulled him into another hug, holding him tightly. “But right now, all I need is for you to be here. I need you to be safe, Harry. You are important, do you understand me? You have to be safe!”

Harry rested his cheek against her shoulder, closing his eyes. He breathed in Percy’s baby smell and relaxed. Sally placed her head on his.

“I’ll be safe, Sally,” he promised again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I will.”

“Good,” Sally said. “Now, I have a hex for you to try out. I’ll write a letter, and you'll cast the howling charm on it.”

Harry figured that sending the Minister of Magic a howler would reduce his chances of listening to them about Sirius and Pettigrew.

(Even if Fudge deserves it, she had muttered.)

So Sally agreed not to send it. For now.

JULY, 1994

“You heard me, Wormtail.”

A drop of sweat trickled down his temple.

Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything than approach his master and the hearth rug where the snake lay, the small man walked forward and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its ugly triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on its rug.

His lips made a mad hissing sound.

And then the chair was facing Frank, and he saw what was sitting in it. His walking stick fell to the floor with a clatter. He opened his mouth and let out a scream. He was screaming so loudly that he never heard the words the thing in the chair spoke as it raised a wand. There was a flash of green light, a rushing sound, and Frank Bryce crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Nearly four thousand miles away, Harry woke up with a start.

His throat was dry like he’d been talking all night. His scar burned like a hot wire was pressed to it.

“Urgh!” Harry grumbled and rolled over to get out of bed. The sun was low on the horizon. He pictured the god Apollo in his chariot bringing the sun across the sky. It was easy to do so. After all the strange things Harry had witnessed in his life, why would the sun not be a golden chariot?

Smellssss goood.

Harry paused. Had he imagined that?

Tassstyyy.

“Sally,” Harry called in alarm. His heart thudded because the last time he’d heard this kind of hissing through the walls, it had been a basilisk.

But he was in Brooklyn now! How could there be a basilisk in a Muggle apartment of all places?

Harry rushed about the large floor space. He found his cousin, asleep on the couch, the telly playing a show on low volume. It had been a lazy afternoon for all of them.

No snake here. Maybe it was the aftershocks of the nightmare. There had been a giant snake in it. Wormtail too. An old Muggle man and…

SARRGCCKK!

Harry gasped.

Something was being choked violently.

“PERCY!” Harry shouted, running at top speed into the baby’s room.

Sally woke up, similarly jolted from the yelling. But Harry was already rushing inside the room and towards the little crib. Percy was in it along with— oh, Merlin!

His eleven-month-old nephew peered up at him brightly. Clutched in the baby’s tight fist was a pale snake struggling for its life.

Harry caught the small fist and forced him to let go of it. He grabbed the snake’s head and hurled the creature across the room.

Percy burst into loud wailing just as Sally was rushing into the room with a throw cushion held aloft.

“What? What is it?!” she shrieked.

Harry backed away, holding Percy close and pulling Sally away from the writhing snake.

She gasped. “Is that… oh, gods, Percy?!”

Percy was sobbing. Harry and Sally spent a full minute examining his hand and arm for bites. Sally pulled out the changing table and removed the baby’s onesie to check his little pudgy body.

“I don’t see anything!” Sally sniffled. “But—but what if the bite’s invisible? What if it—I don’t know, spits venom?!”

Harry panted, staring at the snake closely. It was still twitching, but moving sluggishly now. Its head was tilted at an odd angle. He knew he hadn’t been the one to break its neck.

“It’s a viper,” Harry said. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. His heart sank. Many viper species were venomous.

“Let’s get him to a hospital,” Sally said, still shaking.

Harry couldn’t help but feel it was his fault.

All through the past year, Sally had been raising Percy on her own while also fretting over Harry. They hadn’t had any monster attacks though she did have to leave the park, where they had evening walks, a little quickly sometimes. But now, after Harry dreamed about Voldemort (along with his giant snake and the murder of an innocent man), a snake managed to sneak into the penthouse.

Before they left, Harry grabbed a faded wooden box, his old Nimbus cleaning kit. He emptied all the supplies and carefully put the twitching snake into the box. Locking it safely, they left for the hospital.

The medical staff got to work, scanning every inch of Percy’s skin for the tiniest of nicks. They also checked the snake and ordered for its relevant antivenom.

But the baby had calmed down, gurgling and playing. He happily batted at the nurses’s hands and tried to grab the doctor’s stethoscope. At one point, he even jumped out of the doctor’s arms, leaping gleefully for Sally. There was a lot of yelling during the examination which alarmed people in other rooms.

“We’re lucky,” the doctor said after a thorough examination. “Percy looks alert and well. Strong lungs, clear breathing. Nothing has swollen or changed colour. We checked every part; there’s not a scratch on him. You said you saw the snake in the crib?”

Harry nodded. Sally said, “Harry said he heard hissing. When we went into the room, we saw it inside the crib on the mattress. Harry grabbed it and threw it away.”

The doctor checked his hand and full arm’s length. “How’s your breathing, Harry?”

“A little heavy, I think,” Harry said. His heart was thudding painfully as well.

“We’re checking the blood samples from both boys and keeping them here till the tests are done,” the doctor said, calling the nurse. “But I’m fairly certain it’s a formality now.”

She was right. Both tests came back negative and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Sally stepped out to fill the discharge papers.

Harry held Percy closed, trying to think of anything but the snake. It had died while the doctor had been looking at it.

“Is it safe for them to look at Percy’s blood?” he whispered to Sally after she came back.

He figured it was okay for Muggles to examine wizard blood. Muggleborns passed through society with barely a hitch unless their magic visibly acted out. But what about a demigod’s?

“The Mist will hide him from other Mortals,” Sally promised him. She kissed his forehead but Harry felt he didn’t deserve it.

They reached home in time for an early dinner.

Percy made his hunger well-known. Sally washed him up quickly and popped his bottle in the microwave. When he was freshly dressed, she handed him the bottle. Harry set him on his lap.

Percy’s little hands happily grabbed the bottle, his fingers relaxing and tensing intermittently. The bottle was mostly balanced in Harry’s hand, but Sally insisted on teaching the baby to feed himself ever since he could lay back semi-still.

The bottle was halfway empty when Percy’s eyes began slipping low.

“You had an evening, huh?” Harry whispered. He rubbed his thumb down Percy’s face.

“I’m sorry, Percy,” he told the baby. “That shouldn’t have happened today. I’m supposed to keep you safe.”

Percy was out before he finished the bottle. Harry burped him and carried him over to the room.

“Harry,” Sally whisper-yelled from the kitchen. “Bring the crib to my room, huh?”

“Yeah, alright.”

He patted Percy’s back again and carefully rolled the wooden crib from the baby’s room to Sally’s. The overhead mobile swayed with the motion. Dangling colourful shapes with photographs and tiny soft toys moved with every push.

Harry smiled when he saw his own face pasted on the side of a stuffed betta fish. Sally had bought the mobile and decorated it in a way he knew she would.

“Good night,” Harry whispered. “I love you.”

Percy didn’t even budge when he set him down on the mattress. Harry went around the room, double-checking the windows and opening shelves and the closet door. Just to be on the safe side.

Sally had dinner ready for him. Harry helped serve the plates and they ate quietly.

“First thing’s first,” Sally said after a long moment of silence. Harry’s heart skipped a beat.

“We need to eat more fruit,” she said. “I swear I felt faint in the hospital. Fruit juice isn’t a good substitute. We’re going shopping tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How’s your homework going?” she asked.

“It’s going. I’ll get it all done before Ron and Hermione come over.”

“Awesome,” Sally nodded, chewing her ravioli with overdone gusto.

Harry couldn’t stand it anymore. “Aren’t we going to talk about it?”

“About the snake in the room?”

He glared. “That’s not funny, Sally.”

She raised a hand in defeat. “My bad. Sorry, sweetheart. Now that the danger’s passed, my mind’s trying to downplay everything. But you’re right. We’ll talk about it after cleaning the kitchen.”

Sally made more small talk as they finished their meals. Harry hummed and hawwed through it. They loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters.

“Let’s break out the good stuff!” Sally said, grabbing a tub of treacle tart from the freezer.

That got a smile out of Harry.

They cuddled up in front of the telly and munched peacefully. Harry didn’t pay attention to the show. He figured Sally switched it on for some background noise.

“First off,” she said, digging into her ice cream scoops. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was hissing in my sleep, Sally,” Harry admitted. “I—I told you about my second year, right?”

Sally hmphed. “Well, that wasn’t your fault either, was it?”

“Sally, my scar hurt after the dream,” he said a little forcefully.

She paused, taken aback. Her eyes lingered over his forehead before she leaned against the couch, “Reminds me of something Don once said.”

“What? About my scar?”

“Not exactly,” Sally murmured. “He said that demigods have dreams that can be pretty real, to the point of clairvoyance.”

Harry repeated the word to himself. “Like divination? They can dream about the future?”

“Not just the future. Sometimes they witness scenes from the past. Sometimes they dream about things happening in real time, a thousand miles away. Their consciousness is powerful thanks to the half-divinity in their veins.”

Harry tried to imagine Percy having real dreams of dangerous people and monsters. He shuddered.

“Well,” he said, trying to find a basis for the idea. “What’s that got to do with me? I’m not a demigod.”

“No, but you’re powerful in your own way, right?” Sally spoke without hesitance.

Harry blinked. “Eh?”

“All those things you told me about your years at Hogwarts,” Sally insisted. “Are you telling me all students go through the sh… stuff that you face?”

“Well, no—”

“I’m going to be candid here,” Sally told him. “We promised to tell each other everything, didn’t we?”

Harry exhaled. “Yeah.”

“Then here’s my two, very Muggle, cents. Voldemort is a serious threat. He’s dangerous enough to make someone betray their longtime friends.”

Harry winced. Sally wound an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him carefully. She kissed his temple and whispered, “Sorry.”

“Keep going,” he muttered.

She set down her ice cream bowl and continued, “You’ve been in danger every year at that school. It connects back to him. For some reason, Voldemort thinks you are a threat to him.”

Harry stared, incredulous. “Me?”

“It doesn’t have to make sense to us,” Sally said, carefully. “But this is what he believes. And I think I see his point.”

“What, Sally—”

“Let me finish,” she whispered. “In your first year, you said… well, you told me that your touch burned that professor.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath. That had been harrowing to relay to Sally. He didn’t want her to know that he’d basically murdered a person. But he did tell her. And she’d simply hugged him for a long time.

“Dumbledore said it was my Mum’s love for me that hurt him,” Harry said under his breath.

“It could be like the blood wards,” Sally pointed out.

Oh, right. That kind of did make sense, he supposed.

“In your second year,” she spoke, “you killed a giant, powerful snake.”

Harry paused. “I had help.”

“Harry, can you imagine Percy facing something like that?”

Something squeezed Harry’s heart, threatening to yank it out of his body.

“No, why, why, why would he—” Harry stammered.

Sally kissed his face again. “I just wanted you to understand how incredible your situation was. Harry, that snake was a thousand years old. Even with a trained battalion, a full-fledged fight would have been horrifying. Yes, you had help. But tell me, if someone else had told you a story of stabbing an ancient snake with an equally ancient sword, it would have taken some convincing to really believe them, right?”

Harry was silent. He didn’t like thinking about those things. He knew how close he’d been to death those times. He still remembered the burning of the venom in his blood and how Fawkes’s tears had miraculously quenched the fire and healed him completely. The memory was crystalised.

The penthouse was bathed in evening lights, lending a warm and soft ambiance to their conversation. It made her words echo with that much certainty.

“And the things that happened last year,” Sally said. Her voice was low in the night. “They’re also impossible at first sight. Time travel, dementors, werewolves, and rat traitors. They’re unbelievable at second sight too. It took me days to wrap my head around all that.”

Harry wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

Sally peered into his eyes. “I’m telling you all this to let you know that you really are powerful. Conjuring a single spell to drive away a hundred freezing monsters? I read about Patronuses, Harry. So many adult wizards have a lot of trouble making corporeal forms. Even Voldemort can’t make a Patronus, did you know?”

Harry gawked. “What?”

“I read it in an old newspaper clipping,” Sally admitted. “I can’t verify it myself. Maybe you can ask around. But a lot of New York wizarding papers mentioned it during the height of the war.”

Harry stared. “You read those old papers?”

“Of course,” Sally smiled, rubbing his arms for warmth. “It’s important for me to know as much as possible. But my point is that you are powerful. You are very capable. You have done nigh impossible things that should not be diminished.”

She leaned in. “Which means if you say you dreamed about Voldemort vividly enough to make your scar hurt, then I believe it’s true.”

Harry opened his mouth, unsure of how to defend himself. But he didn’t need to.

“But, I will never believe,” she finally said, “that you made the snake search for Percy. That’s where I draw the line. It was not your fault.”

Oh.

Harry turned away to quickly dry his eyes against his sleeve. She leaned her head on his shoulder, her arm still around him.

“You threw that snake away from the baby,” Sally said, making use of his silence. “You saved the day, sweetie.”

He finally nodded, unable to use his voice with it cracking.

They sat like that for a while. Harry didn’t think he could talk about it without crying like a baby. So he changed topics.

“It still smelled him,” Harry mumbled.

Sally frowned, surprised. “Huh?”

“You once said that… that demigods have a scent about them. I heard the snake say it smelled Percy. Maybe that’s why it was in his room.”

Sally frowned. “I can’t believe a snake found a way up the elevator. But monsters can smell him outside the apartment.”

Harry sat up and faced her. “I think I have an idea. What if we built a protection spell for Percy so that nobody could smell anything off of him? My blood wards keep magical threats out, but that snake must have been more mortal than mythical, so it got in.”

“So if we dim the olfactory sense around him,” Sally said slowly, “then it should be that much harder to find him?”

“For everyone,” Harry nodded. Then he added, “for us too, probably.”

Sally raised an eyebrow. “On the bright side, I won’t have to smell his full diaper.”

“Right. We also won’t get his baby smell,” Harry muttered sorrowfully.

They sighed.

“I’m glad you’re thinking about Percy,” she said. “But you need to watch out for yourself too when stuff like this happens. Look, why don’t you write to Sirius and Remus about your scar hurting? Mention the snake too. I’m sure they’ll have some ideas about it.”

“Huh. Yeah, I’ll do that.” he nodded.

“Good,” Sally whispered. “Happy birthday, Harry.”

He grinned.

Their solicitor, Ms. Hayes, was getting the runaround.

“A permanent spell to dim his smell?” she asked, perplexed. “Do you mean… as in a hex or a charmed pendant?”

“Pendant!” Sally repeated, intrigued. “Then that would be easier to bring him outside the house when we need to!”

“Yeah!” Harry said, cheerfully. “Can you arrange an expert to do that?”

Ms. Hayes nodded slowly. “Yes, I can have a bureau get that done. Would you each like one too?”

Harry blinked, confused. “Er…”

“That’s a good idea!” Sally beamed. “Maybe something customised for Harry.”

“And you too,” Harry said pointedly.

“Yes, yes, all three of us.”

It was probably for the best anyway. Charming a smell-avoidant pendant for just a Muggle baby might throw up red flags.

But they got it done, and it was small and pretty, shaped like an amoeba and made of sea glass. It also had a subtle Notice-Me-Not charm and gave off a scent of baby powder to make it even more inconspicuous.

Sally tied the string around Percy’s foot. She didn’t want him to throttle himself after seeing what he’d done to the snake. Harry had told her that Percy was the one to strangle it with his baby strength. Like Hercules.

Harry and Sally’s pendants came with a powerful Notice-Me-Not charm and an Obfuscation charm that would ruin photographs if someone took unsolicited pictures of them. It was perfect for Harry to disappear into crowds in case random wizards came up to him for, of all things, autographs!

With the pendants, Harry’s mood soared. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were visiting in a fortnight for a sleepover. And then they’d head over to watch the Quidditch World Cup.

Despite the nightmare and the snake, Harry hoped this would be a good year ahead.

Chapter Text

AUGUST, 1994

“Happy birthday!” Ron roared, hugging Harry tight. It was two weeks after the fact, but Harry enthusiastically welcomed it.

He laughed, clapping him on the back as Mr. Weasley helped Hermione step out from the fireplace. The green flames died down quickly, and their guests admired the penthouse.

They’d planned it out even before the previous term had ended. The Quidditch World Cup was due in early August, so Mr. Weasley could drop off Ron, Hermione, and Ginny for a couple of days to celebrate a belated birthday. Harry and Sally had their solicitor (poor woman was getting overworked) make all the portkey and licensing arrangements. The four of them used the floo from the New York office directly to their apartment in record time. Mr. Weasley would be returning to Devon after lunch though.

“This is amazing!” Ginny cheered, holding onto her rucksack. “You live here now, Harry?”

“Yes!” Harry said, squeezing Hermione close as well. “Welcome to New York, guys!”

Sally shook hands with Mr. Weasley. “Welcome, Arthur! How’s the family? How’s Molly?”

“Simply splendid, thank you!” Mr. Weasley said, invigorated. “Molly baked some apple crumble. It’s top-notch, if I do say so myself!”

Harry grinned. He loved Mrs. Weasley’s pies and knew Sally would enjoy it too. He might even be able to sneak a few crumbs to Percy, just to see the baby’s reaction to the sugar.

“Hello, Ms. Jackson,” Hermione greeted her, wide-eyed. “You have a lovely home.”

“Why, thank you, Hermione,” Sally grinned. “You kids can call me Sally, I’m barely a decade older, you know.”

Ginny surveyed the place. “Is the baby here?”

“No, he’s gone for a walk,” Ron chuckled.

Sally showed them around the place. “Percy’s asleep. He’ll be up only after lunch, hopefully. You must be famished! Harry’ll show you where you can wash up. If someone needs to shower, go ahead.”

They dropped their bags in the spare room and had a quick tour of the house. Harry glowed with pride as his friends oohed and aahed at the portraits and layout of the flat. He brought them out to the balcony as well from where they had a wonderful view of Prospect Park. The second-hand furniture suited the outdoor space in a way only Sally could have visualised.

“Hedwig flies over to the park everyday,” Harry explained, standing by the glass wall. “It’s a good space for her since anywhere else is as concrete as a city can get. Sometimes she visits Central Park.”

“This is so cool!” Ron said, shaking his head and smirking. “I bet Malfoy doesn’t have anything like this even in his manor!”

“You could even build a pool out here,” Ginny remarked, admiring the open space.

Harry acknowledged her, but knew that wouldn’t be happening until Percy was much, much older. Sally’s had few rules around the house and most of them were about baby-proofing the entire place to a T. It included keeping the balcony door double-locked with the curtains drawn so Percy wouldn’t be tempted to crawl over to see uncharted regions.

“Probably not right away,” Harry answered Ginny’s suggestion. “Maybe when Percy’s older, Sally’ll agree to it. But it can be risky now.”

Hermione agreed, spouting data on the real dangers of Muggle children around water bodies. Mr. Weasley was equal parts horrified and enthralled.

Lunch was a chatty affair. Sally boasted about Harry’s new culinary skills and pointed at the dishes he made. Everyone rushed to try it, praising it heavily and leaving Harry red-faced. Ron, of course, tried a helping of everything. Ginny was enamoured by Sally’s writing classes and asked about job prospects. She was especially vocal about sports articles.

“You wanna tell them about your new elective?” Sally whispered, so low the others didn’t catch it.

Harry wasn’t sure. He’d been studying Rune lesson packets over the summer that McGonagall and the Ancient Runes Professor Babbling had sent to get him up to speed. They would be setting a test for him when he started his fourth year. If Harry fell short of the passing score, they would reject him from the elective.

He hadn’t told his friends, waiting until he was sure he’d get in. He wanted to prove that he could be good at school if he was taking suhc a tough subject.

“Not now,” Harry muttered and turned back to his plate. Sally’s smile didn’t waver.

They had nearly finished lunch, wolfing down the food. As Mr. Weasley was explaining how the World Cup had arranged portkeys for everyone across the globe, Percy began to wail from his room. It was his usual, ‘I’m slightly hungry but mostly annoyed that I woke up alone’ cry, so Harry relaxed. Sally went to check on him while Hermione sat up, excited.

“He’s started crawling, hasn’t he?” she asked. “When’s he turning one?”

“On the 18th,” Harry said.

“Ooh, same day as the World Cup finals,” Ron said, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his heart falling at the reminder. But he bucked up. “We were wondering if we could just celebrate his and mine together, but Sally said that wasn’t necessary.”

“That’s because Percy’s not going to remember any of this and Harry needs his own day,” Sally said, walking back into the dining room, carrying a bright-eyed Percy in her arms. He had his stuffed dolphin in a tight grip as he gnawed over a fin, drooling.

“Wow, he’s much bigger than the photos,” Ginny said, surprised.

“They grow up so fast,” Mr. Weasley smiled, tenderly.

Percy swivelled around, eyes growing wide at the brand-new faces at the table. The light of the noon sun shone through the windows and made his eyes especially blue. His soft hair bounced in gentle curls after his midday nap.

“Wah!” he announced, finally spotting Harry.

“Hello to you, too,” Harry grinned. “How was your nap?”

“FBRHHHH!” Percy spluttered, pleased with himself.

They opened Mrs. Weasley’s pie on the table and Sally pushed a tiny spoon full of delicious crumbs towards him. Percy closed his mouth on the spoon. His curiosity dissolved into excitement in a split second. He dropped his dolphin, kicked his legs, and leaped out of Sally’s arms headfirst into the pie.

Everyone shrieked. Several hands dived for him. Mr. Weasley waved his wand and Percy’s descent slowed in midair before he could get a face full of deliciousness and pain.

Harry snatched him out of the air and examined his body. The baby giggled trying to twist away from him to reach the pie desperately.

“You reckon he likes it?” Ron asked as their heart rates slowed to normal.

Sally held Percy tight as they headed out into the living room.

“Giving me a heart attackm and you’re not even a year old,” she was mumbling. Percy babbled, delighted after having devoured some more of the pie.

The others brought out their gifts for Harry. But he had a cylinder package first for Ginny.

“Yours was on the eleventh, right?” Harry asked, handing over the lightweight cardboard roll to a surprised Ginny. “Happy thirteenth!”

“Thanks!” Ginny said, her cheeks turning Weasley red.

She unwrapped the roll and tilted it to find a poster of the Holyhead Harpies of the main and reserve teams. It was rare to have all fourteen women on the same print.

“Brilliant!” Ginny grinned. “Thanks, Harry! I got something for you too!”

“We all did,” Ron huffed.

They sat in the living room, and Harry plopped down on the rug to open his presents one by one.

Hermione had packed sugar-free snacks alongside a hard-bound book on Firebolt maintenance, autographed by the current seeker of the Appleby Arrows. 

“How did you even get a copy of this?” Harry asked, impressed, turning the heavy book around.

“I’d visited Quidditch Quality Supplies early and saw they were selling a few of these,” Hermione said, trying to play it off modestly. “It was just luck.”

Harry promised to read it cover to cover.

Ginny gifted him a portrait of Hedwig that she’d commissioned a friend to paint. Harry grinned as the hand-painted form of his beloved owl soared through the skies and landed on a flowering tree.

“It moves?” Sally said in wonder. “Like a charmed photograph.”

“Yes, Luna’s good at this,” Ginny said, blushing. “I wasn’t sure what else to get you, Harry.”

“This is great, Ginny, I love it. Hedwig will too,” Harry promised, placing the portrait away from Percy’s grubby hands. Thankfully, the baby didn’t complain, already engrossed with the crinkly shiny wrapping paper.

Ron’s gift, like Hermione’s, was also two-fold. The first was a golden snitch.

“Whoa!” Harry said as he held the tiny heavy golden ball. It was the real thing!

“Is that what you made Charlie get?” Ginny asked curiously.

“Huh?” Harry asked still admiring the shiny metal. Percy dropped his investigation of the wrapping paper and reached for the snitch. Sally immediately pulled him back into her lap and gave him his dolphin.

“My brother Charlie from Romania,” Ron reminded Harry. “He’s visiting for the summer along with Bill. He said he could get something from the World Cup Series. This was a practice snitch that some of the teams used before the finals last time!”

Mr. Weasley shook his head. “I still don’t know how Charlie got his hands on it.”

“Those things have great resale value,” Hermione figured.

“I am not selling this!” Harry laughed as he held his hand flat with the ball balanced delicately. Sensing open air, silver metallic wings unfurled and fluttered like a hummingbird. It flew up and around the room, zipping past their heads.

Hedwig, who had been admiring her portrait, turned her head to observe the flight of the shiny thing. Percy also stopped and watched in great interest. Recognising potential chaos, Harry quickly caught the snitch as it made to fly past his head.

“Hundred and fifty points!” Ron cheered, offering him a high-five.

“This is a snitch?” Sally asked, intrigued. “It’s so small. How are you supposed to see it from across an entire pitch?”

“It’s my job,” Harry shrugged. “It’s easy once you can focus on sunlight shining off it.”

“And what about when it rains?”

“Eh,” Harry said and they chuckled.

Percy used the distraction to jump out of Sally’s arms again. His hand was outstretched and reaching for the snitch. Everyone yelled and scrambled about, wrapping paper flying, Hedwig squawking and taking off, and Mr. Weasley waving his wand yet again to save him.

“For goodness sake!” Sally groaned after Ron caught Percy and lifted him up. He set him on his shoulders, out of reach from anything in the room. Percy was delighted by his new perspective and kicked his feet happily.

“Quite literally a bouncing baby boy,” Mr. Weasley chuckled. “That’s a sign of a healthy toddler.”

“It’s also a forewarning to what his Terrible Twos would be,” Sally complained.

Hermione dug out a heavy present, yet unopened from the mess on the living room floor. “There’s one left, Harry.”

“Yeah, that’s my other present,” Ron said, a little hesitant.

His second gift was surprising. It was a book.

“Magical Gods of Bygone Pantheons?” Harry read the title, astonished. Sally’s jaw dropped.

“Yeah, you were searching for something like this in the castle library right?” Ron asked. “Bill mentioned that Egyptian wizards have a lot of prayers and rituals with their old gods and I thought this would be a good one for you. Is it okay?”

“It’s perfect,” Harry whispered, flipping through the table of contents.

Right there, beneath a list of select gods from various mythologies and cultures, was a chapter dedicated to ‘Demigods’.

Mr. Weasley left in the afternoon. He’d come back to pick up the four teens in two days.

“Have fun,” he told them. “And don’t give Ms. Jackson a hard time. Best behaviour, kids.”

“Yes!” Ron groaned.

“Bye, Dad,” Ginny said and Hermione waved.

The fireplace burst into green flames. Just as Mr. Weasley disappeared in the floo, Percy leaned away from Ron’s shoulder, but the boy caught the baby around his waist.

“Ha!” Ron exclaimed. “I knew you were about to do that!”

“ABAH!”

“No, don’t try to weasel out of it!”

Percy blew a raspberry at his head.

“You’re arguing with a baby,” Hermione scolded him.

“And losing,” Ginny grinned.

Harry picked up his gifts and headed to his room. They were all pretty good and he quickly tried one of Hermone’s snacks. Thankfully, they were tasty enough for him. Maybe Sally was right, he really did have a sweet tooth.

He set the gifts on his study table, moving the Ancient Runes study material inside a drawer. Magical Gods of Bygone Pantheons sat at the bottom of the pile. Harry turned away, knowing he’d have to wait at least after the World Cup to satiate his curiosity.

As the scorching heat of noon passed, Sally and Harry packed enough food for a picnic. They led the others out of the apartment to the underground parking lot. It had several empty spaces with only a few cars strewn about since it was a weekday.

Ron whistled, “This place can have a lot of cars. Can you really drive them all?”

“Just mine, Ron,” Sally said, smiling. “But I could drive different cars with some practice.”

Percy babbled loudly from his jogger stroller, trying to make conversation with them. Hermione cooed and interacted with him readily. Harry strapped him in the baby seat of their five-seater while Ron helped Sally fold the stroller into the boot, along with the baby bag and food basket.

“Is this a jeep?” Ginny asked, curiously. It was a far cry from their Ford Anglia, Harry recalled. Harry, Hermione, and Ginny squeezed next to the baby while Ron sat in the front passenger seat so that his long legs could fit in comfortably.

“Yeah, it’s a Jeep Grand Cherokee,” Sally said, buckling her seatbelt. “It’s lucky we have this. A smaller car wouldn’t have fit all of us.”

Harry didn’t know how Sally could drive amid the traffic of the city. But she managed it well. They merged onto the highway with no problem and headed north. Ron grinned at the speed at which were going and Hermione and Ginny marveled at the sights.

A large Honda swerved around them, trying to overtake on the wrong side. Sally blared the horn, and the driver of the Honda flipped them off.

She rolled down the window, and Hermione said, “Um, is that wise?”

“It’s okay,” Harry whispered.

“You wanna play games on the highway?!” Sally shouted out the window.

“You’re the one going 50 in the middle lane!” the man yelled back, turning nearly as red as Uncle Vernon would anytime he saw Harry’s uncombed hair.

“Excuse me for listening to the speed limit!” Sally snapped, turning her eyes back to the road. “But if we get pulled over, who do you think the cops’ll flag? Me with all these kids, or you with your six-pack breath?!”

The man grumbled and moved onto another lane. Sally rolled up the window and hummed alongside the music on the radio.

“I thought that I heard you laughing, I thought that I heard you sing…”

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Harry whispered.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were slack-jawed.

“I think I thought I saw you try!” Harry joined in with Sally and Percy screeched in delight.

Chapter Text

They crossed the Manhattan Bridge, which afforded them a stunning view of the East River. The skyscrapers of New York marked the horizon in an unforgettable scene.

They drove past the Empire State Building as well. Harry gripped Percy’s seat tightly as he peered up at the impossibly tall building. Just six hundred floors above them were Percy’s immortal family, probably unaware that Poseidon’s son was so close to Olympus.

Sally stepped on the gas, and they passed by the building. She put on a neutral smile, answering all of Hermione’s questions as best as she could.

They crossed Madison Square Garden, too. It was an impressive sight from the outside, and Times Square dominated their attention span like no other.

“It’s busier than Trafalgar’s,” Hermione gasped.

“Unbelievable, huh?” Harry laughed. Percy laughed along with him, eagerly experiencing all the new colours and sounds of the city.

“Now, we can’t just park right here and walk around the place,” Sally said. “But I figured we could visit the MET and Central Park and also see some sights along the way.”

“Cor!” Ron said. “When Mum said we had to be careful of the big city, I didn’t think it was this much.”

They crossed Rockefeller Center as well. Even though Ron and Ginny hadn’t heard of it, they admitted it had an awesome name.

Central Park was a bigger place than Harry had expected. No wonder Hedwig liked coming here. Trees spanned as far as the eye could see. They found a parking spot that Sally called a miracle and headed for the Metropolitan Museum of Arts, an immense building surrounded by the park.

Hermione was ecstatic. She procured a pamphlet from the lobby and began listing the most famous displays they had to visit.

They crossed several galleries filled with masterpieces from cultures ranging from China to Mexico. They crossed the Egyptian halls and found linen with ancient hieroglyphs and fake mummies in sarcophagi. The Renaissance area showed a legion of Impressionist paintings. Sally kept corralling the teens and took photos of them beside great paintings and artifacts.

Percy was dozing off by the time they made their way into the hall of Ancient Greek sculptures.

“No way these were done thousands of years ago,” Ron breathed, staring up at life-sized statues with perfectly sculpted faces and incredible expressions on every piece.

“They were,” Hermione insisted. “They were also brightly painted, but the colours faded a long time ago. And these were all done by hand, by Muggles!”

“So cool,” Ginny said, peering up at a statue of Aphrodite who was carved with her robes teasingly open.

Sally however was taken in by the statue of Perseus. The large sculptor showcased a victorious hero holding up the severed head of Medusa, her stone innards threatening to drip out of her open neck.

“Nearly-Headless Nick would be jealous,” Harry mumbled. But Sally didn’t hear him.

Harry held onto Percy’s bright stroller, checking on the sleepy baby who was blinking slowly.

“If you doze now, you won’t sleep at night,” Harry told him. It had happened several times in the past to the detriment of a sleep-deprived Sally and Harry.

Percy protested as Harry unclipped his belt and picked him up. He bounced the baby and showed him the tall statue of his namesake. “Look at that, Percy. It’s gross, innit?”

“FFFHRR! Maa!” Percy blew loudly. Harry figured he was trying to whistle to impress Sally. It had been a few weeks since he’d starting saying Mama.

Sally blinked, an automatic smile growing on her face. “Yes, very gross. Who’s hungry?”

“Me!” Ron said, ending his voracious discussion with Hermione.

They filed out of the Met and walked into the park. It was crowded with several families enjoying the bright weekday. The group found the perfect vacated spot just by a copse of trees. They spread a large picnic blanket on the grass and relaxed in the fresh air and blue skies.

“We can see those buildings from here,” Ginny said, peering across the park. The Empire State Building, Rockerfeller Center, and the Flatiron rose in the skyline as did several others.

“They’re pretty iconic,” Sally agreed, distributing her packed egg sandwiches. She also brought out a bottle of OJ and a few paper cups. Percy’s meal was a bowl of mashed bananas which he was pleased about. Sally had brought Mrs. Weasley’s apple crumble as well to everyone’s pleasure.

“I also got this for the occasion,” Sally chirped, holding up a brand-new frisbee.

Ron was confused. “Is this a plate? Should we all share it?”

Hermione snorted. “Ron! It’s a frisbee! You throw it!”

“Throw it where?”

Harry polished off his sandwich and shoved Ron’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s play.”

Ron and Ginny followed, perplexed about the canary-yellow frisbee. Sally sat back and held Percy in her lap as he fed himself his bananas. His tiny, eager paws grabbed fistfuls of the fruit as he shoved them into his gullet. There was more food on his face and bib than what went inside his mouth, but he was trying enthusiastically.

Sally wiped down his face and burped him. Percy was in an excellent mood today so Sally relaxed on the blanket. She got some good photos of all four teenagers running and laughing in the park. Percy bounced at the sight of them playing. Her baby was ready to leave her and go with the big kids.

“Some day, sweetheart,” Sally whispered, kissing his head. “Enjoy this time now.”

She wiped his face and took a few photos of him as Ginny jogged back to the blanket.

“Your turn!” she panted. “I’ll play with Percy for a bit and also get some pictures of everyone.”

Sally grinned. “Thank you, Ginny. Hold him tight, he’s been jumping a lot lately.”

“I remember,” she chuckled.

Percy seemed worried when his mother walked away but Ginny plopped down on the blanket and turned him around to face her. “The big oh-one, eh?”

She placed him on his feet and carefully let go. Percy actually managed to stand for two seconds before he stumbled over his feet. Ginny caught him, giggling. She let him crawl over her legs as he scrambled to the edge of the picnic blanket.

Ginny threw herself in his path, stopping him from reaching the grass. Percy squealed, his face split open in the widest grin she’d seen. He turned around and crawled to the other side but she got there before he did, dropping herself dramatically. The baby laughed aloud, shrieking, “Awah!”

“You’re chatty,” she said.

Percy pointed at the others playing with the frisbee. “Awa mama!”

“Yes, that’s your Mummy. Can you say Ginny?”

“Eejeeh!”

“Close enough,” she grinned.

In the meantime, Sally and Hermione formed a team against Harry and Ron. They tossed the frisbee back and forth till Sally threw it between the boys and both of them let it pass on.

“Why didn’t you catch it?” Ron asked, puzzled.

“I thought you would!” Harry laughed.

“That’s how you play the game,” Sally said, high-fiving Hermione.

“This is really wonderful, Sally,” Hermione said, beaming. “Harry said all the things you did to adopt him. That was nice of you.”

Sally smiled. “I think it was something both Harry and I needed.”

Hermione nodded. Her grin dimmed. “Um, I guess you know about Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. Did they really pay you an allowance to watch over Harry last summer?”

“He told you that, huh?” Sally said, placing her hands on her hips to catch her breath. “Essentially, yes. Petunia’s sister-in-law was visiting and she doesn’t take well to Harry. I can only imagine the sort of character she is.”

“Right… my parents told me you wrote to them.”

Sally turned, perplexed by the change in topic. “Yes, I did. They’re very nice.”

“They sat me down after I came back from school,” Hermione revealed hesitantly. “They weren’t happy that I hadn’t told them everything about all the years.”

“Were they angry?” Sally asked.

“Upset, but not angry at me,” Hermione said. “The thing is… how do I tell them all bad things?”

Sally nodded. The frisbee came their way. She caught it and threw it back.

“I heard what happened in your second year,” Sally said carefully.

Hermione frowned. “Mum and Dad know it was an accident, but I didn’t give them details. I didn’t want them to worry.”

That was understandable. Harry was the same.

“Your parents love you, Hermione,” Sally said. “You deny their action of worrying and caring for you when you don’t tell them the truth. But I get where you’re coming from. Harry said that you, him, and Ron had tried going to Minerva once and she didn’t believe you.”

“Professor McGonagall? Yes, that happened in our first year!” Hermione exclaimed.

“I think that rejection sat with the three of you for a long time,” Sally said gently. “It wasn’t fair of her to dismiss you.”

Hermione was thoughtful. She fumbled on one of her catches, but picked up the frisbee and threw it with her usual gusto. Ron had to leap to grab it.

“I suppose that’s definitely the start of it,” Hermione sighed. “My parents reached out to a Mr. McIntyre in London. He’s works at the agency you wrote to them about.”

“That must be the one Ms. Hayes told me about,” Sally mused. “Is he your lawyer now?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, not sounding very happy though. “He’s been sending my parents all the papers they need to stay informed about the Ministry and Hogwarts board news. But the thing is that… what if my parents pull me out of Hogwarts because they think it’s dangerous?”

Sally took a moment to consider that. She wondered if Hermione wasn’t happy with Sally interfering with her family. But as she’d found out from Harry, overt rudeness was trained out of the British. (Unless you were the Dursleys.)

“It is dangerous,” Sally to Hermione bluntly. “If they pull you out, it’s because they think it’s the right answer. They want you safe and sound, Hermione. They wouldn’t do it to separate you from your friends or stop you from learning magic. They’d do it to keep you safe. Do you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to sit them down and explain why you want to stay at the castle.”

Hermione shrugged, pained at the thought of such a confrontation. Sally realised that Hermione hadn’t fully considered that her family was on her side. She probably spent years defending Hogwarts and the Wizarding World from her parents.

Sally faced her, letting the frisbee fly away. “One of the main reasons for their worry is that your mom and dad know that magic is out of their element. They have no power in this new world that you are part of, Hermione. The job of a parent or a guardian is to introduce their kid to a world that they have already figured out. Your parents can’t do this. I can’t do it either. I need to trust Harry to make good judgments for himself because I personally have never been in his shoes or the shoes of any magical student.”

Hermione said, “But, you seem to understand it better.”

Sally agreed. She had had her reality-shattering conversations with Poseidon. Harry’s secret hadn’t been as unbelievable as that.

“Honestly, there were other factors beyond Harry’s magic,” she admitted. “And I didn’t want to be like Petunia. But there’s a gap between Harry and me. Between you and your parents too. It doesn’t have to be the worst thing in the world, don’t worry. It might take some time, but I really think you and your parents can find a common ground somewhere.”

“Th… thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Hermione,” Sally smiled. “Of course, all this starts with you having a serious talk with your parents. They just want to be involved in your life. Give them a chance to do that.”

They got home just before dinner. Percy was asleep thanks to the busy day. After another scrumptious meal, Sally suggested they could camp outdoors if they wanted.

“Is it safe?” Hermione wondered. “Do you have mosquitos? How’s the weather here, does it rain at night?”

“It’s been clear for the past couple of months,” Harry said.

“Come on, Hermione!” Ron nudged her shoulder. “It’ll be fun!”

Since the house lacked sleeping bags, they dragged the mattresses off Harry’s bed and from the cot in the spare room. With a little careful planning, they pushed the furniture and plants aside to make abundant space to sleep underneath the stars.

Sally turned off the light and bid them goodnight.

They stayed up past midnight, talking and giggling about the museum and park visit. Harry promised to take them to a theater the next day which generated some excitement.

Ginny stretched her arms, knocking Ron in the head. “Say, I wanted to ask. What sort of electives did you take?”

Ron groaned. “We’re not at school, Ginny. Ask later.”

“It’s never the wrong time to talk about it,” Hermione scolded him. “You can take anywhere from two to five electives. I took five last year. But I dropped Divination and Muggle Studies.”

“I took Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures” Harry said. He paused before adding, “And Ancient Runes.”

They stared, shocked.

“You’re taking a third elective?!” Hermione and Ron asked, in very different tones.

It was pretty quiet on the balcony since the apartment was high enough that traffic noise wouldn’t reach them. So their yell was loud in his ears.

Harry rubbed the sides of his head. “Ow. Yes.”

“You can change electives in your fourth year?” Ginny asked, amused at their antics.

“I guess we can. I wrote to McGonagall in June,” Harry said. “She and Babbling (the Runes professor) sent some material for me to read. I have a test in the first week of term to see how behind I’ll be in class.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hermione said, disheartened. “I could have sent you my notes.”

Harry hesitated. “I guess… I’m sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean to. But I wasn’t sure how good or bad I’d be. And I didn’t want to rely on you for the next four years just to pass. I actually want to study the stuff on my own.”

Ron laid his head back on the pillow, still surprised. “So you’re taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes? Those are the toughest classes, you know?”

“Yes,” Harry said, amused. “I’m not dropping Care of Magical Creatures. Hopefully, Hagrid’ll make it interesting this year. Besides, I’m not taking the others, so I think I’ll be fine.”

Hermione turned on her back on the mattress. “I could quiz you before the test.”

Harry smiled. “That’d help. Thanks, Hermione.”

Ron didn’t say anything for a while. Harry wondered if he was upset. When Harry hadn’t taken Divination at the start of their previous year, Ron had been pretty surprised, but now he was quiet.

They’d almost fallen asleep when Ron asked Hermione, yawning wide. “By the way, what were you talking about to Sally?” 

Hermione blinked slowly, half-asleep. “Hmm? Just about the things she wrote my parents last term.”

Ginny curled onto her side like a cat. “Yeah, she wrote to Mum and Dad too, remember?”

“Ah, yeah,” Ron mumbled.

Harry closed his eyes and listened to their breathing. “Sally wrote to McGonagall too. And to the Aurors.”

“The DMLE?” Hermione asked, surprised.

“About S… Black and the dementors,” Harry amended, recalling Ginny didn’t know about the Scabbers issue.

“She has guts,” Ginny whispered. “I like her. Sally’s really nice.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “And New York’s not so bad, eh?”

“It’s a good place, Harry,” Hermione whispered.

Harry hadn’t slept that well since… possibly ever.

The next morning, Sally and Percy stayed back while Harry and the others went out. They took the subway which was an experience in itself.

None of them got any seats, but it was still fun to watch the passengers and realise how every single person seemed to have their own backstory to the situation they’d brought on the train. The four of them decided to try and find the craziest things on the train.

Ron spotted a woman who had a large handbag slung over her shoulders. The bag kept moving on its own. The four of them tried to guess if she had hamsters, puppies, kittens, or snakes in it. When a parrot poked its head out and cried, “Polly wants to destigmatize taboo topics!” barely anyone paid her any attention other than the four wizard teens.

Ginny and Harry found a group of jugglers who were trying to juggle (of all things) wine glasses. One guy had six glasses in the air and dropped none of them.

Hermione said that the four of them were possibly the strangest things on the train and left it at that.

The subway was crowded but they managed to make it out the other side and witness the horror wonder of Times Square. Midtown Manhattan was at its busiest it seemed. Unlike yesterday, they had a close-up view of the square. There was a large electronic billboard that caught their attention. It showed advertisements and movie posters, with the faces of actors blown up to fill the pixels.

“Did you know the Americans call Muggles No-Maj?” Ron said as they meandered their way down the busy pavement. “Bloody weird.”

“It takes some getting used to,” Harry agreed. “But the bigger culture shock is that New York’s so different from London, whether we’re talking about magic or not.”

“It’s just as busy,” Hermione figured, watching the absolute rush of people in every direction. Cab drivers honked, pedestrians yelled, and shopkeepers set up stalls on the pavement, calling out to potential customers.

Harry bought them each a hotdog and they munched on it, watching the general chaos of a regular NYC cross-section. Later, they headed into a theatre and checked out the list of movies. It was a tough set of choices.

“Pulp Fiction,” Ginny read.

“Rated R,” Hermione pointed out. “They won’t let us in. What about Baby’s Day Out?”

“I’m not watching a kid’s film,” Ron said. “Ooh, bomb on a bus, how about this one?”

“Speed?” Harry said, reading the synopsis quickly.

“Also R,” the bloke at the ticket counter said, growing tired of their banter. “You gotta pick the movie and then stand in line!”

“Sorry, sir!” Harry said hastily. “What would you recommend?”

His demeanour softened. “Well, The Lion King’s popular.”

“Looks like a cartoon?” Ron asked dismayed.

“It’s a good one. A real hit,” the man promised. “And it’s based off a Shakespeare play, if you Brits like that sort of thing.”

“Interesting,” Hermione said, her eyes lighting up. “Let’s go for that!”

“I dunno…”

“If it’s Shakespearean, it’ll have drama, betrayal, and some strange action,” Hermione told Ron.

“Fine!” he groaned.

Ginny chuckled as Harry paid for the tickets.

Hermione insisted on buying the drinks, which she and Ron went to do. Ginny found the theatre room and soon, they were all seated near the back with ample space to place their popcorn buckets and iced drinks.

The movie was really good. They laughed, sang, cried, and whooped in delight. By the end, popcorn was in short supply, but they left the theatre in high spirits.

“I take it back, cartoon Shakespearean works are great,” Ron said, awestruck by the story.

“They call me Mr. Pig!” Ginny yelled hoarsely, remarkably sounding like Pumbaa.

The others giggled.

“Scar reminded me of Snape,” Harry chortled. “Except Snape’s less charismatic and definitely can’t sing.”

“Imagine him, though,” Ron whispered.

“Be prepared!” Ginny sang, and they joined in.

They spent another hour roaming a nearby mall. Hermione bought a book on the construction of the Empire State Building. Ginny got a small rubber ball the size of a snitch. It was incredibly bouncy, and she kept throwing it at the walls and catching it until the store owner complained. Ron bought a New York City snow globe, though he was surprised when it didn’t leap out of his hands and make the whole room snow.

They slept inside the apartment on the second night. Ron and Harry were in Harry’s room and the girls took the spare bedroom. They retired early since Mr. Weasley would come along at 4 AM to pick them up.

Harry listened to Ron's snoring in the otherwise silent apartment. He had never thought he could ever invite his friends home. He was so glad to be wrong.

Chapter Text

“AWAH!” Percy yelled, drooling on a sleeping Harry’s face.

“Ugh!” Harry woke up, grumbling. He shifted a gurgling and awake Percy away from his face. It was still dark outside in Brooklyn, but Hermione and Ginny were up and about.

Mr. Weasley popped his head into the room. He was bright and alert. “Up and at ‘em, boys! We’re leaving in half an hour!”

Sally must have called them several times before dropping the baby on Harry’s bed and leaving him to wake him up. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this.

Ron snored like a chainsaw.

“Weasley!” Harry announced. “C’mon! Quidditch. Breakfast. Let’s go.”

Ron’s snores stuttered, and he tried to curl back to sleep. Harry yanked his pillow away, and the redhead groaned. Percy giggled as Harry picked him up and rolled out of bed.

“Happy birthday, Percy,” Harry whispered, kissing his cheek. “I’m so sorry I can’t be here the whole day. But I’ll bring back some awesome souvenirs from the match. Promise.”

Harry checked the sea glass pendant dangling from Percy’s ankle. It was visible to him since Harry wore his own pendant. Only he and Sally could see their necklaces. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had not noticed at all, or else they’d have asked why Harry was wearing a necklace in the first place. But they could see him since he’d made the effort to greet them. He supposed it was the way to get some people to notice him while everyone else walked right past.

A lot had happened to get him to this point. It was hard to believe that just a year ago, Sally was technically still pregnant. Percy had been born in the evening.

“Not yet a full year, then,” Harry teased the baby. Percy grinned wide, gazing up at Harry with wide bluish-green eyes. “But I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Here you go.”

Harry brought out a small wrapped pack for Percy to grab. The baby eagerly ripped the shiny paper off of it and promptly forgot the package. Harry unfolded the tiny hoodie from the cover. With a little needling, he dressed Percy in the teal hoodie.

“Let’s surprise your Mummy, huh?”

Harry headed out of the room just as Ron was stirring. Hermione and Ginny were yawning during their tea. Hedwig was perched on the table, sipping from a glass of water Sally had placed for her. Sally and Mr. Weasley were talking about the details of the World Cup and where they would be camping.

“Look what Percy’s found,” Harry said, holding up the baby, Simba style.

His tiny hoodie read Guess Who’s One?

“Happy birthday, Percy!” Ginny yelled and the baby screamed back in joy. Hedwig flapped her wings, hooting in alarm.

Sally clapped. “That’s wonderful, Harry!”

After Ron emerged from his sleep, Sally brought out a small cake. Harry stuck candles in it and lit them up.

Percy was delighted by the attention they showered on him. He obviously had no clue what was going on, but seemed to understand that the singing and the clapping were for him, as was the sweet cake. Harry and the others helped him blow out the candles and had a cake piece each. Percy squealed in delight at the fresh sweetness of the fruit cake that Sally had baked herself.

“Delicious,” Mr. Weasley praised her. “Did you bake it in an oh-when? With eclecticity?”

Sally held Percy tight to her chest to avoid another leap-and-dive situation. “Um… yes, in an electric oven. Thank you, Arthur. Why don’t you all pack some cake for the trip?”

In less than twenty minutes, they were ready to floo out. They would be heading to an international office in Manhattan that would portkey them directly to the camping grounds of Dartmoor Forest.

Before he left, Sally hugged Harry tight and kissed him on the cheek. Percy also delivered an open-mouthed wet kiss to his other cheek. Even Hedwig was more tender than usual, nipping his finger softly. Harry could not stop grinning for the rest of the day.

Sally should trust the Weasleys.

Arthur had explained their schedule in detail. Since Hedwig was staying behind, Sally could mail letters to the international office, for any urgent information. He told her all about portkeys, the tents they’d be staying at, and his older sons, who would help look after the kids, so there wasn’t anything to be worried about it.

Which was why Sally felt bad for keeping things from Arthur.

Harry had admitted that neither Ron nor Hermione had told their families about the Sirius Black situation. Nobody but a handful of people knew the man was innocent. Framed.

It wasn’t right that the Weasleys (who’d been so helpful and kind to Harry and Sally) were left out of this loop. Not to mention, Pettigrew had lived at the Burrow for years. Arthur and Molly should know the truth.

"I should tell them," Sally told Hedwig, who was preening her feathers by the window. The owl looked up and hooted thoughtfully. Her large amber eyes were fixed on Sally's.

"I'll do it after the match," Sally said, sitting back at the table. She picked up the book Ron had gifted Harry. Magical Gods of Bygone Pantheons was a promising text on old gods from the point of view of traditional wixens. She had used her home printer to photocopy the chapter on demigods before sitting down to read the book.

Hedwig was gone for an early morning flight the next morning. Percy was playing by himself on his mat. Sally was looking forward to a quiet couple of days until Harry was back.

Except, Sally was soon gawking at the headlines of the NY Wix Times.

DARK MARK DARKENS WORLD CUP

She scrambled through the first paragraph of the Death Eater attack and knocked over her steaming mug of coffee.

“SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!” she swore aloud.

Percy flinched, dropping his toys on his play mat, stunned. He began crying.

“I’m sorry!” she cried, sweeping the baby up and holding him close. She patted his back, heart thudding against her chest.

Hedwig flew in, her large wings spread wide. She landed neatly on the kitchen island, and Sally saw an envelope attached to her talons. Sally shifted Percy to her hip and struggled to unclip it from the tags tied to the bird, her hands shaking as she opened the letter.

Dear Ms. Jackson,

Harry and the others are safe. He will arrive at your home by floo, escorted by Bill and Charlie Weasley. They will answer your queries to the best of their abilities. For further information, please write to me or have your solicitor reach out later today. My reply may be delayed as I am overseeing the Muggleborn children as well.

Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall.

Her heart relaxed when she read the first sentence. At least, Harry was okay. McGonagall wouldn’t lie to her.

This wasn’t a school incident, but the professor was involved anyway. Sally wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. On one hand, it was a relief knowing that someone competent was helping out. On the other, did that mean there weren’t enough skilled people at the Ministry to handle the crisis?

Sally put Percy down for his late morning nap when the fireplace came alive and the green flames spit out three wizards.

She quickly closed the door to Percy’s room and rushed out to help Harry to his feet.

“You’re okay!” Sally cried, squeezing the air out of him.

Harry coughed out a breath full of soot and floo powder as he patted her back. “I’m okay, I’m alright!”

Behind him were two Weasleys; one was a tall, thin redhead and the other was a short, brawny one. Their resemblance to their siblings was obvious. Sally shook their hands. “What happened? Was anyone hurt? Where’s Hermione and the others? Tea or coffee?”

Sally noticed that Bill was a natural leader, and Charlie was happy to sit back and let his brother talk. They probably had over two decades of practice living in a large family.

“Dad dropped Hermione off,” Bill explained as he stirred two lumps of sugar into his coffee. “We ran into McGonagall in the morning, and she said she’d write to you.”

“She did,” Sally said, now calmer. Harry dutifully sipped his large mug of tea, cupping his hands around the hot ceramic despite the warm weather. She brushed his hair out of his face and rubbed at a patch of soot he’d missed.

“You’re lucky this paper gave better facts,” Charlie said, reading the newspaper she’d crumpled in her anxiety. “The Daily Prophet mentioned a load of humbug.”

“That’s Rita Skeeter for you,” Bill said darkly. “Nobody was hurt too badly. The main casualties were the Roberts family, and the Auror team got them sorted first. The other problem was a lot of kids got separated from their parents in the stampede. It took a while to locate everyone.”

Harry raised his head, eyes trained on the picture printed on the paper. “That thing in the sky, the Dark Mark. Bill, you said someone sent it to scare the Death Eaters?”

Sally sat up straight. The article had mentioned it, but she needed clearer answers.

Bill shared a solemn look with Charlie. “Charlie and I were too young for the first time ‘round, but we remember how bad it got before 1981. You-Know-Who had taken over the Ministry and half of Europe. He had followers in the open and spies everywhere. Anyone who spoke against him was hunted down and silenced. Whenever he and his Death Eaters were murdered, they sent up the Dark Mark over the victim’s house. It was a sign that they were taking over.”

Sally clenched her fist to hold back her shudder. Bill was barely a few years younger than her. Yet she could see the quiet dread in his eyes from the memories.

She wondered if Voldemort (she hated that name) had put the mark over Lily and James’s house before he killed them.

Harry caught her hand under the table. She exhaled, trying to calm down.

“Our Dad thinks that the Death Eaters who caused the panic were more scared of the mark than the rest of us,” Charlie added quietly. “They ran when they saw it in the sky.”

“Why?” Sally asked.

“Because most of them would have lied to the Ministry and the Aurors that they’d been innocent the whole time,” Charlie told her. “There are curses that force people to lose their free will and obey orders. It’s not easy to tell who were under those curses and who weren’t without full examinations.”

“But they would have been suspects?” Sally prodded. “They would have trials, right? Nothing came of them?”

“Some were caught,” Bill said thinking hard. “I know Barty Crouch was responsible for a lot of arrests.”

“And Mad-Eye was the reason many of them were caught in the first place,” Charlie added. “His aurors were ruthless.”

Aurors, Sally thought, turning the word over in her head. She needed to do a lot of reading to catch up with the news.

“Did…” Harry hesitated. “Do you know if some Death Eaters got sent to Azkaban without trials?”

Bill frowned. “I think they were. When You-Know-Who fell, the Ministry wanted to clean things up as fast as possible. But it’s not common knowledge.”

“I only know Dolohov got sent there without a trial,” Charlie recalled. “He attacked Mum’s brothers. There were witnesses too. But he didn’t get an actual trial. Didn’t need to.”

This time Sally squeezed Harry’s hand, waiting for him to ask about Sirius. But Harry stayed quiet.

“So,” she said, looking around to find a topic to discuss. “Minerva was at the match?”

Charlie enthusiastically took over, explaining how the Head of the Gryffindor House was a Quidditch fanatic. They hadn’t been all that surprised to run into her when the stampede began. She’d helped Arthur coordinate with a few other Ministry officials in finding any children left behind from the crowds of panicked wixens.

Then he mentioned something that made Bill sigh and Harry wince.

“You lost your wand!” Sally shrieked.

Percy wailed from his room.

“Um…” Harry muttered. “I’ll get him!”

He rushed out of the kitchen as Sally buried her face in her hands.

Bill quickly explained the events with Winky the house-elf who was fired for such an un-elf-like action.

“This day keeps getting better and better,” she mumbled.

Percy quietened as they heard Harry singing to him. Sally strained her ears to listen to his words, “Just a small-town girl, livin’ in a lonely world. She took the midnight train goin’ anywhere…”

It was something she sang on quiet days. It never failed to soothe Percy.

She came back to her previous thought process. If Harry could lose his wand so easily and be vulnerable, then anyone could have gotten to him. What if those magic Nazis had stumbled upon him? They had nothing but contempt for Muggles, what would they do to someone who was considered responsible for the downfall of their master?

“Can you cast spells without a wand?” Sally found herself asking.

Bill didn’t look surprised by the query. “It’s possible. We learn the theory from sixth year onwards. Non-verbal casting is in the syllabus but wandless casting isn’t a practical bit. There are proper courses beyond graduation that teach it for everyday casting.”

“But it’s too advanced for fourth years?” Sally asked.

Charlie sat up. “I heard Harry can cast a full Patronus. He might be able to pick it faster than others. Wandless stuff is difficult, but you’ve got a point. Harry’d need it if stuff like this keep happening. They had a mass murderer on the loose, a werewolf, and dementors last year! Best to be prepared.”

Sally was again reminded that neither Bill nor Charlie knew the truth about their brother’s pet.

“I have some books from when I took that course. I’ll send them to him,” Bill said seriously. “McGonagall and Dumbledore are the best wandless wixens I know. Most Aurors can cast limited defensive spells too, so it’s not out of the question. If Harry can get some coaching, I think he’ll do well. Then even if he loses his wand, he should be able to protect himself till back up arrives.”

Sally could breathe easier. Now that she could suggest something practical for Minerva to do that could help Harry, she felt better.

Harry and Percy emerged from the baby’s room. Bill and Charlie wished Percy a belated birthday and left before lunch. They advised Sally to lock the floo behind them.

“I’m sorry,” Harry told her.

Sally exhaled. This boy.

She hugged him and Harry wound an arm around her. They stayed like that for a while.

“It’s not your fault,” Sally told him quietly. She placed her head on his shoulder, content to just hold him for a bit. He got a little taller everyday.

“You were worried,” Harry mumbled into her side.

“Is that why you apologised?” Sally asked. “Harry, I’d worry if you tripped over a pebble. It’s a personal privilege to worry over you. You shouldn’t apologise for things you didn’t do. You weren’t the one who hurt people.”

He nodded. Percy poked his cheek with a wet hand and said, “Awah!”

Harry smiled reluctantly. “Don’t stop believing, Percy.”

“I heard you singing,” she said and Harry blushed.

“Percy likes that song,” he said softly. “And so do I.”

“It’s one of my favourites, too,” Sally agreed. She sang the song in a low voice.

“Strangers waaaaitin'... up and down the boulevard, their shadows searchin' in the night.”

Harry grinned and joined her, “Streeeeetlights… people! Livin' just to find emotion. Hidin' somewhere in the night!”

Sally grooved to the music and she hip-checked Harry. He laughed with her.

“Don't stop belieeeevin',” they yelled out, “hold on to that feeeeeelin'. Streeeetlights, people!”

Percy clapped his hands happily as they spun around in the room, singing off-key.

“Awee!” he yelled in excitement.

Sally and Harry stumbled to a stop. She gasped, “Did he just…”

“He did!” Harry laughed, cuddling Percy close. “What’s my name, Percy?!”

“AHWEE!”

Golden oldies were a staple at this house. Hedwig watched the three of them in rapture. She wouldn’t have believed it had she not witnessed them dancing so badly. Harry had never smiled brighter than when he was at Hogwarts, but the Jacksons had proved that wrong.

Chapter Text

Sally was done packing as well.

Harry had been more than surprised when she’d finally made up her mind. She and Percy would be coming with him to London for a few days before the Hogwarts train ride.

The only one more excited than Harry was Percy. The baby kept bouncing in his arms when he saw the bags next to Harry’s trunk outside, at the gates to the apartment. Harry could have sworn he actually understood that they were all going on a trip.

Harry and Percy stepped outside to catch a cab. He whistled with ease, a short blast of sound that flagged down nearly three taxis. Percy blew raspberries for the next ten minutes as the cab driver helped them load the bags into the boot.

“The airport, ma’am?” the driver asked, shutting the doors.

“Not exactly,” Sally said, and Harry grinned. “Woolworth Building, please.”

They made it to Manhattan in good time. After circling Millennium Park, the cab dropped them in front of the towering Woolworth Building, a haven for both No-Majes and Wizards alike. The entrance depicted a stone owl, carved with precision and so much detail that Hedwig hooted solemnly up at it.

Harry had to wave his hand to grab the attention of a bellboy who hadn’t noticed their entrance. He helped them bring their luggage in. The cab driver watched curiously but thanked them after Sally tipped him handsomely.

Harry held onto Percy and Hedwig’s cage while Sally wheeled one of their bags. The bellboy brought them to the receptionist, who didn’t see them either.

Harry and Sally grinned. Their charmed pendants worked well.

Sally said, “Good morning. We’re the Jacksons, we made an appointment with the transportation department.”

The well-dressed receptionist blinked, surprised. She peered at them over her glasses and asked, “What time?”

“10 am.”

She tapped something on her typewriter and recited, “Jackson, party of three. MACUSA international transport at 10 am.”

“Correct.”

“Follow me, please,” she said, standing up and leading them through a small pair of double-doors that read ‘Authorised Personnel’.

The lobby had been a pleasant and well-lit hall, but the new space they entered was immense and jaw-dropping. The ceiling was so far away Harry could barely find it. It extended several floors above them, carved from black stone with a Gothic infusion of the modern New York building. The only space larger than this that Harry had ever seen was the World Cup Quidditch pitch.

Harry could imagine this place having lasted several centuries. There was a timeless quality to it. Illuminated with artificial lights everywhere, people walked around in robes and even Muggle clothing, chatting nonstop and walking as though they had nifflers chasing them. They arrived in several fireplaces, glowing green constantly. None of them took any notice of Harry and Sally with their eclectic luggage.

Sally was stumped as well, her eyes wide as she took in the sights. Percy bounced happily, pointing at the bright lights and babbling happily. The receptionist walked with precise steps, possibly having had the novelty of the American Magical government building worn away ages ago.

They crossed a tall statue of several witches and wizards. The plaque in front read that it was a tribute to the victims of the Salem Witch Trials.

“In here,” the receptionist said, holding another door open for them.

The portkey department conducted things quickly. A couple of people gawked at Harry when they checked his papers. Sally ushered them and they got through the process in no time.

“Have you travelled by portkey before?” the wizard in charge asked.

“No,” Sally admitted. “Percy and I haven’t. Harry has.”

“I shall brief you on it. MACUSA Portkeys are standardised and stable in every way conceivable. We assure safe transportation for everyone including No-Majes, animals, and infants above six months of age. We will give a five-second countdown during which you need to maintain skin contact with the portkey. We will provide a lanyard for your toddler in case he lets go. There will be some discomfort after the journey but your destination, London, The United Kingdom, will have wizards standing by to assess your health after the travel. Any questions?”

“We have a lot of luggage,” Sally said, showing them three bags, Harry’s trunk, and Hedwig’s cage.

“MACUSA Portkeys ensure your luggage will not be jostled about or broken in transit,” the wizard intoned. He seemed to have trouble maintaining eye contact even after Sally and Harry had introduced themselves. His eyes especially glazed over Percy.

Sally was staring at their portkey, apprehensive, “Nothing else for it.”

Harry patted her arm. “It’s kinda like a rollercoaster. Landing can be rough though.”

“Your destination will provide ample cushioning charms,” the wizard added.

“Let’s go for it before I panic,” Sally decided.

The portkey wizard tied a small yellow lanyard from Percy’s hand to a nondescript plastic water bottle. The baby spluttered, annoyed by the leash. Harry held onto him tightly and he and Sally reached out to touch the bottle. Their luggage had similar leashes connecting to the neck of the bottle.

“Safe travels, Ma’am, Sir, baby,” the wizard said and waved his wand over the bottle. “Portus.”

The bottle glowed blue. Sally stared wide-eyed and Percy laughed.

“Five, four, three, two, deep breath, one!”

The room vanished when the bottle pulled on them, dragging space and the very air into a miniscule point and vanishing.

Sally yelped loud, Hedwig screeched louder, Percy squealed the loudest, and Harry silently moaned his aching ears. Still attached to the bottle, they flew through space, moving swiftly enough the ruffle their hair wildly.

The journey was over in seconds. Everyone tumbled as the bottle finally let go of them and they bounced on the floor of the new room that surrounded them.

Sally sat up, breathing hard. “Holy shit!”

Percy clapped his hands. Harry covered his ears. “Language, Sal.”

“Language smanguage. You said portkeys are alright!”

“You’re the one who didn’t wanna fly!” Harry defended himself.

Sally huffed. They got to their feet and flagged a witch down for the health assessment. Percy was cheerful as ever, now unwilling to let go of the bottle that had given him the best ride of his little life. Sally had to dig out his favorite dolphin toy to distract him from the portkey.

They were in the heart of the British Ministry of Magic in London and though Harry had done this before, he was still as appreciative of the brilliance of portkeying thousands of miles so efficiently in seconds.

The receiving witch was leading them outside the transport room when Harry nearly walked past Percy Weasley who’d been standing outside, facing the massive atrium.

“Percy?!” he called, surprised.

“Awee,” baby Percy responded, pushing the dolphin in Harry’s face.

“Harry!” Percy Weasley exclaimed. “There you are! I almost missed you… my apologies, I didn’t think I would zone out.”

“You didn’t,” Harry told him, ever impressed by their enchanted pendants. “This is my cousin, Sally Jackson. And this is her son, Percy.”

“Awee,” Percy said, having happily established what his favourite word was for the week.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Jackson,” Percy Weasley said, shaking Sally’s hand enthusiastically. “My father was called into a department meeting just before lunch and is very sorry he could not meet you here.”

“That’s alright!” Sally said, still flustered from the portkey. “Your father is clearly a busy man. And you are too. Is this cutting into your break?”

“No, no! I was eager to meet you!” Percy Weasley said, escorting them into the Atrium now, “Are you taking a Muggle car to your hotel?”

“Yes,” Sally said, startled by the large black-tiled hall with scores of floo places on either sides. Green fire burned intermittently and witches and wizards in robes would hurry out, brushing soot away.

“Great!” Percy Weasley said, leading them into a red telephone booth that stood in the middle of the hall like an out-of-place beacon. Despite it’s seemingly small space, the little group were able to fit inside, along with the baby, Hedwig’s cage, Sally’s suitcase, and Harry’s trunk.

Ron’s brother closed the door and picked up the telephone handle and tapped in the numbers 684-453. An automated voice spoke, “Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”

“Percy Weasley!” he shouted. Sally winced and the baby stared, excited.

“Er…” he continued, hesitating, “Department of International Transportation. I’m escorting American visitors Sally Jackson, Harry Potter, and Percy Jackson out of the building.”

The voice responded, “On behalf of the Ministry of Magic, we thank our visitors and wish them a pleasant stay in the United Kingdom.”

The telephone booth jostled as it began to rise in the air. Sally leaned against one of the walls, peering outside in alarm.

“It’s like one of those mall elevators,” Percy Weasley said as though he’d been practicing.

“Yes, it kinda is,” Sally said, breathing hard and squeezing her eyes shut. Percy shook his dolphin with glee.

Harry watched as the booth went up into the ceiling, passing through it seamlessly and emerging out on the pavement outside the building with barely a hitch. The ride stopped and Harry said, “We’re here.”

Sally scrambled out of the booth. Percy went, “Wheee!”

Percy Weasley pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I never used the Muggle entrance before.”

“It was fine,” Sally said, taking deep breaths of air and flapping her hands to fan her face.

“It’s a heights thing,” Harry said quietly. “Thanks for showing the way, Percy.”

“Of course!” He shook Harry’s hand pompously and then Sally’s.

Percy stuck out his pudgy, sticky hand as well and Percy Weasley shook it with just as much show.

He bid them good bye just as Sally managed to flag down a London cabbie with a loud whistle.

“Well, aren’t you the loudest American I seen today?” the driver grunted. He helped them load their cases, barely batting an eye at Harry’s trunk. He’d probably seen stranger things.

“Why, thank you,” Sally said, grinning. “Andaz London, Liverpool Street, please.”

They had a wonderful trip that involved driving alongside the River Thames. Sally scrambled out her little camera and took photos of the bright day’s scene.

“Do you want the scenic route?” the cabbie asked.

“Thanks, but we have something planned for tomorrow,” Sally assured him. She handed Percy off to Harry and tried to take a photo of herself with St. Paul’s Cathedral in her background. Harry spent the rest of the ride wrestling the dolphin’s nose out of Percy’s mouth while Sally snapped a dozen more pics.

“The Tower of London is definitely on our list,” Sally said excitedly. “Have you ever been?”

“No,” Harry admitted. He could count the number of times the Dursleys took him on a trip outside Little Whinging.

Sally made a face. She slipped the camera back into her bag as their tall hotel came into view.

Andaz London was a five-star place. Both Harry and Sally were unused to such grandeur. But after staying at their penthouse for some time, they managed to go with the flow as the staff treated them as VIPs.

Their suite was thankfully simple, with a joined double bedroom, a small porch, and a single large bathroom and a closet. But its wide floor space made it a room of indulgence.

“I think I overdid it,” Sally whispered, staring wide-eyed at the massive space.

“You said you chose a modest room,” Harry laughed nervously. The only other time he’d seen such decadence was at Hogwarts.

“It’s modest for the hotel,” Sally said. “You should have seen their staterooms on the brochure.”

Percy drooled over the bed covers as he fell asleep. Harry unlocked Hedwig’s cage so she could finally stretch her wings. Sally found a little transistor in the hotel room and played with the dials, landing on a channel playing a-ha’s Take On Me.

They set about planning their schedule for the week. They had a lot of people to meet.

“Lunch with the Grangers,” Harry said in a low voice. “Gringotts the next day, get school supplies and parchment for you. Meet up with Sirius and Remus after that. Check-in with that lawyer, McIntyre. Visit the Weasleys. Maybe tour London. Then drop off at King’s Cross. Mr. Weasley said they’re getting taxis to reach the station.”

“You’re shyin’ away. I'll be comin’ for you anyway,” Sally was humming along to the radio. She nodded at Harry’s list, hanging up her clothes on hangers in the closet.

“We can just walk to the station, I think,” Harry said, lying on his side to peek at the sleeping baby. Percy looked sweet and angelic only when he slumbered. It was how he drew in his victims.

“We can!” Sally whispered. “It’s one of the reasons I booked this place. As long as we can handle the trunk, and the stroller, we can get there in good time.”

They enjoyed a lovely dinner on the hotel’s terrace, basking in the city lights twinkling in the dark expanse of London. Percy smeared fruit puree over his face and Sally got her first taste of authentic British food.

“This bruschetta is great,” she said, partaking in their delicious dinner. “I remember your parents had what they called ‘a castle feast’ during the wedding and reception.”

Harry grinned. “Hogwarts feasts are legendary. They have the best food from lots of places around the UK.”

He told her his favourite dishes from the start of the term and Halloween feasts. Sally made the right sounds at the right time and Harry’s salad actually grew warm before he could finish it. He had a lot to talk about the castle and its food.

“And desserts too, I’m guessing,” Sally said with a knowing grin. “When was the last time you went to the dentist.”

“Erm…”

Sally chuckled. “Good thing we’re seeing the Grangers tomorrow!”

Harry made his face. “My teeth are good.”

“Take on me,” Sally sang under her breath, still grinning. “Take me on!”

“I'll be gone! In a day!” Harry joined in despite blushing.

They sniggered and frantically shushed each other as people at other tables shot them annoyed looks. Percy shrieked happily, distracting everyone.

Harry had wanted to introduce Sally to the wonders of the floo powder.

“No,” Sally said firmly as they walked out of their room. “I think the Grangers would appreciate it if we came by cab.”

“How about the tube?” Harry compromised.

Sally blinked. “Is there a direct connection?”

“I know there’s a station in Liverpool Street,” Harry said. “Hermione said her parents take the tube for their London office.”

“Yeah, alright,” Sally agreed, zipping Percy’s bulging jacket, making him look like a tiny penguin. “We better get one right away, the weather’s not looking too good.”

Unlike the previous day, it was cloudy and dull, exactly what Sally imagined London to be. They quickly found the subway station and took the Metropolitan line before changing to the Northern line at Moorgate. From there, it was nearly smooth sailing all the way north. They got seats the further they went and occupied the time comparing the rail and people with NYC’s subway system.

Percy had slept through most of the journey and had woken, bright and bubbly as they exited at Hampstead station along with a small throng of pedestrians.

The Granger house was a quaint home nestled in the quiet street of Heathgate, northwest of London. It was a two-storeyed house with a small garden beyond a brown picket fence. A tall tree hid part of the house and Sally smiled up at it. The place reminded her of her uncle Rich’s house before he had moved into the city.

Harry held on to the empty stroller while Sally wrapped her coat around Percy, shielding him against the drizzle of the day. He rang the doorbell, and the door swung open to reveal Mr. and Mrs. Granger, both beaming with smiles.

“Harry! Sally! So glad to see you!” Jean, a chubby-cheeked tall woman with glasses, enveloped them both in a warm hug. “Come in, come in! Lunch is ready!”

“Absolutely!” John said, shaking Harry’s hand with a grin. He was the same height as his wife, tanned with white teeth. “We’ve been looking forward to this.”

The Grangers ushered Harry and Sally into the cozy living room. The table was set with a feast—plates of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, a tangy green salad, and freshly baked bread, the kinds of food that made Harry’s stomach rumble in anticipation.

Hermione rushed down the stairs and cried in greeting. She threw herself in Harry’s arms, eager to drag him further into the house.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed, grinning as they separated. “I saw you barely a week ago!”

“It’s been a long week,” she shrugged before spotting Sally and Percy. “Hello, Sally! Hi, Percy!”

“Hello, Hermione. It’s good to see you.”

“MABRFFF!”

“You must be hungry,” Jean said, taking their coats. “Was the trip tiring?”

“Not really,” Sally said. “This one was asleep, so that’s about as relaxing as things could get.”

Percy grinned as though he knew they were talking about him.

They exchanged more pleasantries as they took seats at the table. The Grangers’ dining room and kitchen was a combined space which made it a far cozier look than the penthouse, but just as wonderful.

Sally, Jean, and John spoke about the commute, their jobs, and London life compared to New York. Hermione and Harry occupied Percy with crackers while they dined without interruption.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Sally began, her voice warm yet hesitant, “how was it for you, discovering Hermione was a witch? Especially with all that comes with it.”

Hermione watched her parents, wide-eyed.

“It was… unexpected,” Jean said thoughtfully. “We always knew Hermione was special in some way—her curiosity, her drive, the unexplained things that kept happening. But we didn’t know anything about the Wizarding world. The not-knowing was the biggest barrier.”

“But Professor McGonagall came and explained everything,” Hermione rushed to say.

John patted her arm. “She did. However, an afternoon’s conversation is hardly enough to fully convey the extent of magical life, ‘Mione. She gave it a brave go, though.”

Sally glanced over at Harry. “Minerva McGonagall visited us as well.”

“All the way across the pond?” Jean asked, astonished.

“Oh, yes. I had so many questions and… well, I suppose Hermione has told you a lot about the happenings of the previous three years.”

John winced. “Yes! Urgh, it sickens me sometimes.”

“Dad,” Hermione mumbled into her food.

“Petrification!” he argued. “That’s horrible, Hermione! I still can’t believe you waited so long to tell us exactly what that meant!”

“Harry was just as bad,” Sally said, hoping to deflate tempers. “He was so worried about the way I’d react, knowing everything the kids have been through.”

Jean watched her daughter go red. “Yes, I see your point. But I must say, until we reached out to Mr. McIntyre, we really were on the back foot!”

Harry sat up. “That’s your new attorney?”

“A wizard attorney,” John elaborated. “He’s a… what’s the term, half-blood?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, her bushy hair bouncing. “His father is a Muggle.”

“Yes, a Muggle solicitor in Cardiff,” John said. He gave a faint smile. “Any chance you would consider being a witch dentist, Hermione?”

“Er…”

“I’m teasing, dear,” John smiled. “You could be anything you put your mind to.”

“We are short on historian-doctor-astronaut witches,” Sally hummed.

The table burst into laughter and Percy joined in, elated. He crushed the cracker in his tiny fist and tried to climb out of his high chair. Harry caught him and restrapped the buckles.

“Mr. McIntyre’s directed us to new sources,” Jean said, after serving Sally another helping of mashed potatoes. “We can get our news flooed in from various publications to avoid the neighbours seeing too many owls every day.”

“He explained the exchange rate at Gringotts and gave us a pamphlet on how to communicate with the goblins,” John added.

“Goblins?” Sally asked, surprised. “So, they run the banks here as well?”

“They own all establishments of Gringotts and most banking services,” Hermione explained. “Wealth has always been their sector, even though we’ve had a lot of wars in the past.”

Sally nodded, “I suppose you got all of that from your ghost professor? It must be exciting learning magical history from him.”

Harry and Hermione choked on their salads. Percy cackled at them.

After lunch, they set their plates in the dishwasher and Hermione invited Harry to take a look at her third-year notes in Ancient Runes. He picked up a babbling Percy and the kids went up the stairs.

“We have custard in the fridge,” Jean said. “It’s still cooling.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Sally smiled as they wandered over to the bookcase in the living room. “The boys will love it, especially.”

John smiled. “I’d like to ask, you are quite young to raise a teenager, Sally. Are you managing things well?”

Maybe coming from someone else, Sally would have had her hackles up. She got nasty looks from strangers when she’d been pregnant and single. But since moving in with Harry, her general upkeep and clothes reflected her newfound wealth. People seemed to think that made up for the ‘accidental acquisition.’ But John had a kinder disposition in his statement.

“Harry is a sweet boy,” Sally said. “I honestly got lucky there. And Percy can be a handful, but he’s a baby, that’s how he’s supposed to be. I suppose, hearing about Harry’s previous guardians, and all the stuff in his school is terrifying… because there’s quite literally nothing I can do about it.”

Jean nodded, emphatically.

“I don’t know how much Hermione told you about the Dursleys,” Sally hesitated.

“Enough,” John said quietly. “Perhaps that aunt of his had some worrisome incident with her sister’s magic. But that is no excuse for how they treated Harry. Hermione sounded so relieved when she told us that Harry moved to New York. Most children are sad when their friends move away.”

Sally smiled. “She’s wonderful to Harry. Her attitude in classes is one of the reasons that Harry’s taking a new elective this year. He admitted that he didn’t consider classes as much as he should have and wanted to correct it right away.”

Jean sat on the arm of the couch. “I don’t blame him, to be honest. We’ve been following the news closely. You’ll know this, I’m sure, but that Sirius Black character had broken into the castle at least twice! I wouldn’t hold it against Harry for not being able to focus on his studies!”

Sally only nodded. She wasn’t sure if she ought to tell Jean and John before the Weasleys found out. But it didn’t feel right either. Their daughter had been in the thick of the action and had been surrounded by dementors in the Forbidden Forest. It had been a nightmare.

“He was on the telly too,” John said thoughtfully. “It seems the British Ministry is in throes with the Wizarding World. I suppose that makes sense, especially in these cases.”

“Yes,” Sally said. “With everything that’s happening in the magical world—both at school and outside of it—I’ve been wondering how I can best support Harry. It’s not just the distance, but also, how much I can’t do. I can’t just apparate to Hogwarts and whisk him away any time something bad happens. That’s why I’ve been reaching out to people from the American lawyer and liaison offices, to Minerva, and even the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The Head Auror was kind enough to respond, but it was mostly a non-answer, so there ends that.”

Jean shared a commiserating look with her. “John and I have been writing to Ron’s parents. Arthur has suggested a couple of new publications we can opt for to get high-quality information. He said… what was it, dear?”

“The Wizengamot Gambit,” John recalled. “It’s a journal written by Wizengamot members for several societies about the policies they vote for and the reasoning behind them. It’s skewed towards pure-bloods, but there are some Muggle-born and Muggle supporters and we should be aware of them.”

Sally’s eyes were wide, “Wizen-gamot? Something to do with chess?”

“No, no. It’s the high court of law for wizards,” John explained. “Albus Dumbledore is Chief Warlock.”

“Oh!” Sally remarked. “I’d like to get that then. But the technical and lawyer bits might go over my head.”

Jean smiled. “Good thing you have a lawyer on retainer, huh?”

Sally chuckled.

A loud peal of laughter announced the arrival of Percy. Harry and Hermione bounded down the stairs, chattering about their fourth-year curriculum.

“Mum, Dad!” Hermione said eagerly. “Harry’s learning nonverbal and wandless theory!”

Jean and John were astonished. “Both theories? Aren’t they NEWT level?”

“The nonverbal practicals are,” Harry said, hiking Percy up onto his shoulders. “Only seventh years start a wandless theory course. But Ron’s brother, Bill, lent me his books and I was planning to ask McGonagall to coach me through the notes.”

John exhaled in a whoosh, “Speaking of things that go above our heads…”

“We can figure it out together!” Hermione said, vibrating now. “Ron, Harry, and I can do some self-research and the library will have loads of stuff for us!”

“It could be dangerous,” Jean said, worriedly. “Maybe this kind of magic needs proper guidance.”

“We’re only learning the theory for now till McGonagall thinks we’re ready to start a practical course,” Harry said. His eyes darted to Sally urgently.

“Why, yes!” Sally piped up. “We can have her write to us about the kids’ progress. That way, we’ll know how well they’re doing and when they can actually start casting spells without announcing or waving their arms like windmills.”

Harry and Hermione pouted. Percy laughed at them yet again.

“We don’t… announce our spells,” Hermione mumbled.

Harry thought it over. “We kinda do. Which is why the nonverbal stuff will come in handy!”

John chuckled and stood up. “The custard must be ready! I think Percy will enjoy this, too. Sit down, Harry. We can eat in the living room.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said, patting Percy’s back. “Hermione and I will catch him.”

She groaned.

Jean accompanied her husband to the kitchen. Hermione turned to follow them, but Sally whispered, “Hermione, just a sec!”

“Huh?”

“Harry and I are going to tell Ron’s parents about Scabbers.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Yeah… Harry mentioned it.”

Sally leaned in. “We should tell your parents, too.”

The witch and the wizard gawked. The demigod drooled.

The Muggle continued. “I want the Ministry to open a full-fledged case on Sirius Black. He never got a trial. If we can make it happen, everything will be investigated and open for public review!”

“Public crucification!” Hermione whispered. “But you want to tell my Mum and Dad now?”

“They’ll find out some way, Hermione,” Sally warned gently. “I’d rather tell Molly and Arthur first. But we’re all here now, this is the best time.”

“But—”

“You and Harry were found in the forest, unconscious next to Sirius,” Sally insisted. “The Minister already knows this! When details start coming to light, your parents will find out! They have multiple paper subscriptions and they’re going to start availing The Wizengamot Gambit too!”

Hermione noted this with horror.

Harry nudged her arm. “It will be so much easier coming from you, ‘Mione.”

“Mimi!” Percy babbled, leaning down to extend a grasping hand towards Hermione.

She stared at him, then at Harry, and then at Sally. “O… okay.”

Chapter Text

That evening, they visited Diagon Alley.

Sally didn’t have too much trouble finding the place which Harry thought was odd since the enchantments around the pub should have distracted Muggles. The interior was busy with parents and kids having late lunches or evening teas.

Percy sat in the baby carrier on her chest, facing out. He gawked at the floating kettles, newspapers, and lights above their heads.

Sally eyed some of the shiftier characters who were drowning in their robes, heads lowered to scurry around the place.

“Is this the only entrance to Diagon Alley?” she whispered. A few people had noticed her in her Muggle clothes. Most of the others wore robes and traditional wear, though the kids wore robes over Muggle clothes. Jeans were clearly a hit among the teens.

“It’s the only one I’ve ever used,” Harry said. “Just wait until we get inside. You’ll love it.”

He led Sally to the back of the pub. With a tap of his wand against the brick wall, the entrance swung open, revealing the bustling street beyond.

As they stepped through, Sally’s eyes widened in awe. The vibrant colors of shop signs, the sounds of merchants calling out their wares, the tweets and hoots from the Magical Menagerie, and the smell of freshly baked goods enveloped them.

“Welcome,” Harry grinned with pride, “to Diagon Alley!”

Sally laughed.

They wandered down the cobbled street, stopping at various shops. Sally marveled at the array of magical items: potion ingredients, cauldrons, robes, spell books, and even a shop dedicated entirely to enchanted scrolls.

Percy’s head swivelled around, pointing at the brightest lights and flashiest sounds with gusto.

The trio made their way to the towering marble building of Gringotts Bank. The imposing façade, with its gleaming bronze doors and the goblin guards standing watch, was timeless. He had been here before, but this time felt different. This time, Sally and Percy were with him, even more new to the system.

The interior was cooler than the summer weather of Diagon Alley. Harry led Sally to the front desk, where a particularly stern-looking goblin awaited them. It was surreal for Sally who listened to the usual vault-related spiel and joined Harry on the trolley ride to the vault. She was impressed by riches, but more so by Lily and James’s broken watches. Vowing to get it as fixed as possible, they packed up some gold and left for the shops.

They stopped at Madam Malkin’s first and got Harry his usual school robes, ties, and jumpers. When Harry was selecting a fresh pair of socks, Sally came back with a few sets of fetching robes in various colours.

“Uniforms are black robes,” Harry said, confused. Percy happily reached up to bat at the hanging tassels from the robes.

Sally moved them away from him. She said, “These are dress robes, Harry. I’m not getting you black ones. You’ll look like you’re going for a funeral.”

Harry examined his school supply list, noting the unusual addition. “It doesn’t say why I need dress robes.”

“You’re fourteen,” Sally pointed out, holding the fabrics against his arm. “There might be a party! What do you think, Madam?”

“The pink and red washes him out,” Madam Malkin hummed. “Especially up in Scotland, he’ll lose this tan by winter.”

“A winter party?” Harry asked.

“It’s a surprise for the students,” Madam Malkin whispered, conspiratorial. “Go with green, pet. It’ll match your eyes. A soft teal would be wonderful too! Or you might want to find out what your date would be wearing and order after they decide.”

“My date?” Harry asked, alarmed.

“It’s a ball,” Madam Malkin said, her eyes gleaming. “But don’t tell anyone I said that!”

Sally decided to buy a set right away and went with dark green robes that dimmed his eyes, but went well with his skin tone. The stitching was gold which Harry was thankful for.

They bought treats for Hedwig, Potions ingredients, a new cauldron, and his school books for the upcoming year.

“Do you have an annotated version of the Rune book?” Sally asked the owner of Flourish and Blotts.

“Second-hand?” Harry asked, surprised. Sally rarely gave Harry and Percy anything used. It was usually homemade or brand new.

“You can learn a lot from those notes,” Sally assured him. “They might give you a leg up. And some annotations might even be reprinted, so you know it’s legit information.”

Percy fell asleep in the bookstore (which gave Harry a data point for the kind of person he’d grow up to be). They packed up the rest of the things in an extendable bag that Mrs. Blott kindly offered them at a 20% discount.

The rest of the week promised showers over most of Britain. Sally wrapped herself in her waterproof coat and hurried into the packed pub of Prospect of Whitby.

The busy clatter of mugs and the murmur of quiet conversations filled the air as she searched the scene for faces she’d memorised from photographs. Sally soon spotted her companions sitting at a corner table on the balcony overlooking the River Thames.

Sirius, with his unfamiliar blond hair and strikingly different features, was already talking animatedly with Remus, who looked a little uneasy. Both men were clean-shaven but in slightly shabby clothes.

Neither of them noticed her.

Sally approached the table looking forward to putting this to the test. Not many people occupied the nearby tables, so they could just knock Remus out if things did go south.

She and Harry were about to test if Remus’s wolf instincts could clock Percy’s demigod scent.

"Good morning!" she greeted, startling the men.

“Holy Morgana!” Sirius gasped, “You’re quiet!”

“I’m Sally Jackson,” she grinned.

“Ms. Jackson, of course,” Remus stood up and shook her hand. “I’m Remus Lupin. And this is Snuffles.”

Sirius gave her a two-fingered salute and pulled out a chair for her.

“I hope you haven't been waiting long,” Sally said, making herself comfortable.

“No, no…” Remus said, trailing off.

Sirius stated the obvious, “So, where’s Harry? Back in the hotel?”

“He’s around,” Sally assured him. “But I’m putting you both to the test now. Can you sense something different?”

Sirius and Remus grew perplexed. “Different how?”

“Just sniff the air,” Sally said, her eyes lingering on Remus. “Does anything stand out?”

Remus inhaled deeply. People, animals, drinks, food, rivers, vehicles, trees… everything was in its place.

“You?” Sally asked Sirius.

He smelled the air, frowning. “No. Do you want us to sniff Harry out?”

“Can you?”

“If he’s in the pub, we can,” Sirius said confidently.

“He is,” she said.

The men concentrated harder. Remus closed his eyes and strained his ears. He’d taught Harry for months. He knew the way the boy’s heartbeat and the strength of his blood pumping into his limbs and muscles. He would recognise his breathing and scent anywhere.

But now, he didn’t.

“I can’t find him,” Sirius said, straining his Animagus senses to the max.

Remus had to admit defeat. “I can’t either.”

Sally relaxed. “Okay, great. Boys?”

“Hello,” Harry said, pulling his Invisibility Cloak off of him.

Remus gasped. Sirius jumped, and shouted, “Merlin’s great right—”

Remus slapped a hand over his mouth. Harry was standing in front of the table, with a baby carrier strapped to his chest; and a baby in that carrier.

“BRFFFF!” Percy spluttered, waving his soft dolphin and greeting them happily.

Remus examined him and Harry closely. “Protection enchantment? Or was it James’s cloak?”

“Both,” Harry said, sitting beside Sally opposite Remus. “Could you really not find me? I was waiting here since Sally sat down.”

Sirius was impressed. “That cloak’s always been a marvel. I hope you’re using it well, Prongslet. Just like your Dad, although your hair’s looking more like Lily’s. Gonna grow it this year?”

“Nah, I might just trim it to look like yours,” Harry grinned.

Percy kicked hard and leaned away from him to Sally. She lifted him out of the carrier and seated him on the table in front of her.

“He’s grown since the photographs,” Remus smiled at the baby. “Has he turned one?”

“Just a week ago.”

“We would have gotten something,” Sirius said, quickly. “I’m still figuring out Harry’s gift. I would have sent cake, but I was travelling back to London.”

“You don’t have to get me anythi—” Harry said but Sirius waved an arm exclaiming, “A double gift, maybe! Sally, you’re gonna have to clue me into what these boys like.”

“Sweets,” Sally deadpanned. Percy drooled.

“So the cake wasn’t a bad idea!”

Remus grinned as Sirius sat back, pleased with his deduction. “How are you finding London?”

“Quite rainy.”

“Sums it up nicely,” Sirius agreed.

They ordered breakfast and beverages. Percy was delighted by the bubbles in Harry’s glass of root beer and kept trying to knock it over.

Remus cast a spell, muttering, “Muffliato.”

“What does that do?” Sally asked before Harry could.

“If anyone comes too close to us, they’ll hear a buzzing noise. We won’t be overheard,” Remus smiled. He seemed to like explaining spells even outside the classroom.

They went over some of the stranger events over the summer. Sirius and Remus grew grave, hearing Harry’s nightmare and the hissing. Thankfully, they weren’t too shocked by the fact he was a Parselmouth, although Sirius did choke on his ale. He apologised nicely.

“It’s more than just your scar hurting,” Sirius said quietly. “We know for a fact that Voldemort has a giant snake. Her name is Nagini.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “He called her that in the dream!”

“You haven’t seen her around you, have you?” Sally asked worriedly and Harry shook his head.

“It’s bad that Voldemort and Nagini are reunited,” Remus muttered. “They’re planning something.”

“They’re not the only ones,” Sirius said. “Dumbledore’s hired a new professor for the DADA course. Mad-Eye Moody?”

“Bless you.”

“Alastor Moody,” Remus explained, “is one of the more decorated Aurors the Ministry has had in decades. He was credited with most of the Death Eater arrests during the last war. He retired a while back, but remained on good terms with Dumbledore.”

“Aurors are like cops, right?” Sally asked, frowning. When Remus nodded, she said, “Why would Dumbledore want an ex-Auror, one of the best, to be at Hogwarts?”

“That’s the right question,” Remus said seriously. “We think something grand is happening at Hogwarts this year. Some kind of celebration. All I know is that Barty Crouch has been heavily involved in it. He’s the Head of the Department of Magical Cooperation.”

“I met Crouch,” Harry said, surprised. “He was at the World Cup.”

“He would be,” Sirius said, digging into his waffles. “His department oversees any international collaboration with Britain. I heard Bulgaria and Ireland supporters kept breaking the Statue of Secrecy during the Cup, but obviously, the Dark Mark took precedence.”

“He fired his house elf, Winky,” Harry added.

Sirius and Remus were surprised. Sally was confused. Harry quickly explained the circumstances.

“I find it hard to believe she’d ever use a wand,” Remus said carefully. “Elves are bound to their master’s word. Especially an elf of the Crouch family.”

“She said she picked up my wand from the woods,” Harry said, his eyebrows drawing close.

Sirius noticed his expression. “It’s not your fault, Harry.”

“If I hadn’t lost my wand, she wouldn’t have been fired,” the teen mumbled.

“If Crouch had stopped to think, she wouldn’t have been fired either,” Sirius said fiercely. “That man bulldozes through regiments, fighting fire with fire. No matter whose wand it was, Winky would still be punished.”

“Is Winky like a slave?” Sally asked, hushed.

“Yes,” Remus said with a frown. “Many pure-blood families have house elves bonded to their family crest. The heir inherits the right to command them.”

“That’s… that’s…”

“Horrible?” Sirius asked. “Deplorable? Detestable? Right by all accounts.”

“They can be freed,” Harry said, watching the look of horror on Sally’s face. “If someone in the family gives them clothes, the elves are free. But a lot of them don’t like it. Dobby was an exception.”

Sally shuddered.

“MAMA!” Percy shrieked.

Harry’s root beer urgently bubbled like it was boiling. It spilled all over the table and the adults scrambled about, trying to dry it without drawing suspicion. Remus discreetly vanished the liquid and Percy clapped happily.

“Did he do this?” Sirius asked, impressed. “I didn’t realise he was a wizard.”

Sally avoided Harry’s look. “I… um… yeah, kinda.”

“Is his father around?” Remus asked delicately.

“No,” Sally said firmly. “Let’s get back on topic. Harry lost his wand during or before the stampede at the World Cup.”

“Not a good look, Pup,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

“More than that, it left him unarmed,” Sally continued. “There were Death Eaters! And the Dark Mark! We asked Bill and Charlie Weasley about learning wandless magic, and they said it’s beyond NEWT level.”

Sirius hummed. “That’s because teenage wizards tend to have strong magic when they have strong emotions. As you grow older, you can hone that intensity even when you’re calm.”

“Not to say that emotion is bad,” Remus said quickly. “Wandless spells require a lot of focus from your mind and body. Your wand helps direct the energy so you physically don’t have to do that.”

“I learned the Patronus,” Harry said quietly.

Remus smiled. “You did. Much faster than I anticipated. Sally’s got a point. With everything that’s happening, you would benefit from advanced learning.”

“You did that spell on the train,” Harry recalled. “When you made blue fire in your hand after we stalled.”

Sally looked hopeful. Sirius smirked, “Show off.”

Remus shrugged. “The air had gotten cold. The Bluebell Flames spell gives warmth and light, as opposed to the Lumos which gives only light. And I’d just had a good nap, so it was easier to channel that energy without a wand or a verbal spell. But I did use my wand for the Patronus.”

“Great!” Sally exhaled in relief. “Because that’s the main reason I called you both here. I would like to hire you, Remus, and Sirius if possible, to teach Harry how to perform wandless magic.”

Remus smiled, “Sure, we can do that. It will take a few months, at the least… did you say ‘hire’?”

“I’ll pay you, of course,” Sally said, sitting up straight. “But I have a few conditions.”

“Name them!” Sirius demanded.

“You must take lodging at Hogsmeade or somewhere nearby,” Sally told Remus. “And Sirius, you need to be in disguise the whole time.”

“I can’t stay in one place, that would be dangerous,” Sirius admitted. “But I’ll drop by once, maybe twice, a month.”

“That’ll do,” Sally said. “And Remus, you must take the Wolfsbane potion as per the right portions per month.”

Sirius clapped a hand on Remus’s back, “He will!”

“Send me your resume,” Sally told a stunned Remus. “I have a good solicitor. We’ll match your salary with what you got at Hogwarts, so you can get a decent house close to the castle. In case there’s an emergency, I’d like to make you Harry’s contact so you can get him out of the castle.”

Sirius and Harry were grinning. Remus was still in shock. “Um… are you sure?”

“Of course,” Sally said. “I’ll send an employment letter for you to review and sign sometime in September. Harry can meet you in Hogsmeade for the lessons. But while he’s at school, can you coach him long-distance to understand the theory?”

“Yes, he can!” Sirius said, excited.

“I…” Remus croaked. “I probably won’t be allowed to escort Harry out of the castle, though. Too furry.”

Sally frowned. “Not even with the potion?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Hmm,” Sally said, slowly. “Okay, I’ll table that. But I’m informing Minerva that you’re giving Harry distance learning. She can oversee any tests you set him. Also, Hermione is interested in the course and Ron might be too. We’ll be speaking to the Weasleys in a couple of days and check with Molly and Arthur. Hermione’s parents are ready to pay for her course. Are you fine with that?”

Remus blinked. “I suppose I am. I’ll need to set a few papers to see how well they can perform some hexes to give me a baseline indicator… McGonagall can supervise… yes, if their parents agree, I can teach them too. But three students will probably be my limit for a distance learning course.”

“That’s fine,” Sally said. “It’ll be up to the Weasleys if Ron can join.”

Remus nodded dumbly. Sirius barked a booming laugh and was joined by Percy, each of them vying to be louder.

They moved on to the topic of Wormtail.

“Wormtail?” Sally asked. “I thought you said his name was Scabbers?”

“He was Scabbers as Ron’s rat,” Harry explained, “and Wormtail as part of the Marauders.”

“His given name is Peter Pettigrew,” Remus said as Sirius crushed some chips in his fist.

“Well, whatever this chameleon’s name is,” Sally said, determined to push through, “I want to tell Arthur and Molly about him.”

Sirius looked worried. Remus nodded slowly. “That is certainly your prerogative, Sally. But I can’t guarantee they’ll accept the news well.”

“I’ll guarantee it,” she said firmly. “The more people know, the better chance we have at poking holes in Pettigrew’s story. Bill Weasley mentioned that many Death Eaters were arrested without trials and that’s why you got swept under the rug too, Sirius. Don’t you want to be free?”

“Of course, I want to!” Sirius said, a little outraged. “But people believe that it wasn’t me. That rat knew how to twist the story and he’s hidden for years!”

Percy began crushing chips in his tiny fists as well, banging them on the table. They left him to it.

“If we go through the proper channels, I really think we can get the truth out,” Sally said carefully. “I want people to start thinking about the story they were fed. I want them to start doubting whatever it was this Crouch man did.”

Sirius scowled out the window but Remus was intrigued. “It’s not impossible. Crouch’s standing isn’t the best, not with the conviction of his son.”

Harry blinked. “His son was a Death Eater too?”

Sirius grew serious. “Many people think he wasn’t. Crouch sent him to Azkaban after a group trial. He died in his cell. I watched the dementors bury him on the island grounds.”

Sally shivered.

Remus nodded gravely. “Crouch lost a lot of favour after Barty Jr. was sent away. We don’t know if the boy was coerced to take the Dark Mark or not, but we know that he claimed he was innocent till the end. Many believe he was.”

“Do you think he was?” Harry asked.

Remus and Sirius shared a look.

“He was part of the group who attacked the Longbottoms,” Remus said quietly. “The public was horrified. This was just a few days after Halloween, Harry.”

Sally watched as Harry went pale.

“You mean… Neville’s family?” he whispered. “He killed them?”

“Worse,” Remus said. His eyes flitted down to Percy who was engrossed in the mess he was making.

“They were tortured to the point of insanity,” Remus said. His eyes hardened at the mere words. Sirius turned away.

Sally gasped. Harry’s jaw was open.

“Tortu…” she couldn’t even say the word. “Neville? That boy in your dorm, Harry? Your friend?”

Harry gawked. He had never known. Neville had never told them.

“He said he lives with his grandmother,” Harry muttered. “I didn’t ask why.”

Sirius patted his arm. “It’s rough business, bud. Neville’s parents were Aurors. About the best back then.”

“True,” Remus sighed heavily. “Alice got on well with Lily despite being a few years older. And Frank was a prefect when we started Hogwarts. When You-Know-Who fell, his followers grew desperate. I remember the random attacks on Auror houses. They were searching for answers. They broke into the house one night when Neville was away at his grandparents’ manor, I think.”

Harry pulled his arm away from Sirius, feeling sick.

“Sorry, Harry,” Remus said sadly. “It should have been up to Neville to tell you this. But if we’re to talk about Barty Crouch, this was important to talk about.”

He nodded stiffly.

Sally exhaled shakily. “Okay… so, his son hurt them? Along with others?”

“The Lestranges led the attack,” Sirius said. “Rodolphus and his wife, Bellatrix… Rabastan Lestrange, his brother. And Crouch. Crouch Sr. was head of law enforcement back then. He was being fast-tracked for Minister of Magic. Would have made it too if they hadn’t caught his son.”

“He convicted his own son,” Sally said, surprised. “If he was willing to do that, why didn’t he arrange a trial for you?”

“I can’t say, Sally,” Sirius spoke, dully.

“Dozens of people were arrested in those few weeks,” Remus said, recalling. “Many claimed they were under the Imperius. That’s a curse that forces people to do things for the caster. Makes them a puppet.”

Harry regretted drinking root beer. Bubbles erupted in his belly.

“More to the point, people thought Sirius was You-Know-Who’s right-hand man,” Remus said. “Fear is a dangerous thing. It warps the mind and makes you act without thinking. Mob mentality, if you ask me. The Longbottoms are a powerful family. They were admitted in the long-term ward at St. Mungo’s and they’re still there now. People were demanding the Kiss for the Death-Eaters, but that didn’t happen.”

“The what?” Sally asked sharply.

“A dementor’s worst attack,” Remus whispered. “I’d rather not say right now, Percy’s listening.”

Sally and Harry blinked and turned towards the baby. Indeed, Percy was watching them quietly, chips crushed in his little hands, clenched near his face. Harry wrapped his arms around Percy and brought him to his chest, hugging him tight. Percy sneezed into his collar.

“Seems sensitive to emotions,” Sirius mumbled. “You’ll enroll him in Ilvermorny, I’m guessing?”

Sally looked glad to have a topic change. Harry knew he did.

They made some excuses to the men who were left believing Percy was a wizard and swore to not tell a soul. By the time they exited the pub, it was noon, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from the weather. It was raining cats and dogs.

Sally, Harry, and Percy returned to the hotel to rest.

They had visited Buckingham Palace after the meeting with Sirius and Remus. The Muggle sights were just as impressive as Magical ones, Harry admitted. They left when Percy began to fuss.

“You know what?” Sally said after putting Percy to bed. “Sirius was right. Your hair is getting too shaggy.”

Harry ran a hand through the locks. They were certainly longer than a mere few days ago.

“Can you trim it?” he finally asked.

Sally brought a towel while Harry locked his trunk shut. He placed a spare newspaper on the floor and set a chair on it, running a hand through his long hair.

“Sit facing away from the window,” she advised him.

Percy was fast asleep on the bed now. You wouldn’t have thought he could be so peaceful if you’d seen him just an hour ago. The baby had immense strength in those tiny hands. Case in point, when Percy had yanked Harry’s hair hard enough to bring tears, exploded Sirius's drink, and only calmed down when Sally had brought out the noisiest rattler that could distract the toddler.

Now, Sally brandished the kitchen scissors after draping the towel around Harry’s shoulders.

“I’ll cut it to how it was before you left for school last year,” Sally suggested and he nodded nervously.

He couldn’t help it. Harry had never had good experiences when it came to haircuts. Aunt Petunia considered taking him to a barber’s was a waste of money. She’d sit him in the kitchen, shove an old, smelly bowl over his head, and shear off the ends with a blunt pair of scissors. Often, strands of hair were stuck between the dull blades and pulled on his scalp painfully. And don’t even bring up the time she’d practically shaved all his hair off one time. Thankfully it had grown back even though he’d gotten a week’s grounding.

“Are you going to tell Neville?” she asked, halfway through the trim.

Harry swallowed. “I dunno. He never mentioned it.”

“His parents… the poor boy. Remus said they were still alive.”

Harry stared hard at Percy. The baby helped him stay calm. “It happened right after my parents were killed. They probably thought they were safe when they heard Voldemort was gone.”

Sally held onto his shoulder, tightening her grip.

“Are you good friends with Neville?” she whispered.

Harry couldn’t say he was. He simply didn’t hang out enough with the bloke.

He didn’t answer. Sally didn’t nag him. She took her time with the scissors. It was obvious she’d never given anyone a haircut before by the way she kept flitting to his front and tilting his chin to check intermittently.

As usual, the silence never felt awkward. But Harry quietly promised himself to be a better friend to Neville. Maybe Sally knew that.

Chapter Text

The Grangers had been forthcoming about the attorney, Finn McIntyre. So they headed over to the London lawyer’s office to get acquainted with the man himself and find out how much more complex wizarding laws were in Britain.

Mr. McIntyre was exceptionally cordial since he’d been on the retainer of enough celebrities to know how to balance fame and the law. He’d done his reading which was clear, when he recognised them by names. It helped cut down the introductions when he invited Sally and Harry into his office.

“BAHH!”

And Percy.

“Cute lad,” Mr. McIntyre said as he took a seat behind his desk.

“Thank you,” Sally said. “I expect Solicitor Hayes wrote to you this week about a Transatlantic alliance for our communication and the country’s news?”

“She did, and I completely understand,” McIntyre said. “Parents often rely on news, letter correspondence, and word-of-mouth to know what happens at the castle, and it’s even more difficult for Muggle families to be fully informed. But as I’ve assured Mr. and Mrs. Granger, our office will enforce first-hand information to reach them, directly from the Head of the House of their students, as I have done for several parents in the past two decades.”

“Sounds good,” Sally said, already feeling reassured.

The lawyer smiled. “I’m sure we can have smooth communication lines for Mr. Potter and yourself, Ms. Jackson.”

“ABAH!”

“And the young sir, of course.”

Sally patted Percy’s head. “Thank you, Mr. McIntyre. I also wanted to bring up the matter of Sirius Black.”

He was not surprised. “I have it on good authority that Black was recently spotted in the south of Italy. The Ministry is taking the threat seriously, ma’am.”

“I’m sure they are,” Sally said, sitting up straight. “As they did last year. I mean… they stationed dementors around the castle! Harry came face-to-face with them three times!”

The lawyer’s eyes bulged. “Appalling! I can’t imagine it! Do you wish to make an official complaint?”

Harry shared an alarmed look with Percy. The baby made grabby hands for him, and Harry plucked him off of Sally’s tightening grip.

“I have been thinking about it,” Sally said carefully. “To be honest, I found myself stalled when I did some research on the man. Are you aware he was good friends with Harry’s parents?”

McIntyre quietly listened to the short explanation. He didn’t give away anything in his expression, but Harry figured that it wasn’t common news for people to know that Sirius and James had been best mates.

“The Blacks were known as dark magic followers for centuries,” McIntyre said, “When the news broke out that he was responsible for the deaths of so many people, I believed it. That he was in Gryffindor doesn’t speak much since people of any house can make different choices.”

Harry’s hopes rose.

“I’d like to know everything about Sirius Black,” Sally said firmly. “Being close to the Potters, I’m sure he knows many of their secrets. Anything you can find will be of help. His close contacts, other members of his family who are still living, perhaps, the progress in the Aurors’ investigation to track him down. Even the transcripts of his arrest trial; I want to know what he said!”

“I shall start today, Ms. Jackson,” McIntyre agreed. “You can rest assured that everything shall come to light.”

It was a quicker visit than they’d expected. With the weather a soft drizzle, Sally suggested they check out the London Eye.

Percy was drowsy in Harry’s arms as they slowly rose above the ground. It was a large and spacious oval carriage where they could walk around and snap photos. Fellow tourists chatted happily. Sally smiled as she wiped away the baby’s drool. Powder-like rain sprinkled over the glass all around them.

“So we’re not telling McIntyre about Sirius yet?” Harry muttered as they watched the River Thames wind down to the south.

“We’ve given him the push,” Sally said. “I’m not confident if he’d believe us if we told him Sirius was in the right. We have no solid proof. We know the truth, so it’s now McIntyre’s job to collect the evidence. The more he finds, the more suspicious he’ll grow. That way, we’ll know how other people will react to the news.”

Harry made a face. “If he’s anything like Fudge…”

“Then we’ll find another lawyer,” Sally said easily. “Now, come on. I want to get a photo of the Big Ben in the background.”

Honestly, the trip had been going well enough until Percy woke up with a jerk and began screaming in terror.

“What? What?” Harry cried, but the baby was relentless.

“Crap!” Sally swore, shoving the camera into her bag and taking the baby. “I wasn’t thinking! We’re hundreds of feet above the ground!”

They rattled his rattlers, snapped their fingers, and tried singing, but Percy wailed and wailed as the Eye passed the highest point.

“Look at the river, baby!” Sally said desperately.

Percy cried harder.

“I’d cry too; no one wants to look at the Thames, right?” Harry said. It was a miracle that none of the tourists noticed the ruckus.

“Mama’s sorry. Your Mama’s so silly. You’re right, this is too high up,” Sally said, patting Percy’s back and bouncing him as she paced around the floor.

Harry glanced at the sky. The rain picked up from a drizzle to a shower. Their view of the Thames was drowned out by the insistent patter of raindrops against the glass. The sound was immense, even through the thick pane.

Thankfully, nothing else happened. Percy’s cries slowed down as he descended to the ground. So did the rain.

By the time they exited the Eye, it was barely drizzling. Percy sniffled, his face tomato-red from the outburst.

“Lesson learned,” Sally sighed. “No more tall places.”

He watched the grey clouds suspiciously. Percy hiccupped. A small drop fell squarely into Harry’s eye.

On the morning of the 31st, Sally and Harry packed their things and checked out of the hotel. They grabbed a cab to the Leaky Cauldron due to the downpour.

“Ready to floo?” Harry asked.

Sally made a meep sound.

Tom the barman was very welcoming. He greeted them happily and showed them to a fireplace he’d reserved just for them.

“Do we have to go one at a time?” Sally asked, frowning at the pot of floo powder.

“Your baby can stay in his contraption, of course,” Tom said graciously, eyeing the baby carrier strapped to Harry’s chest. They had decided Sally would go first since she was new to it.

“Don’t inhale the smoke,” Harry advised her as she stepped into the unlit hearth. “Say the words clearly and loudly and drop the floo powder.”

Percy kicked his feet, peering up at his mother wide-eyed. He seemed alarmed when Sally was too far away.

“It’s okay, baby,” Sally cooed at him. She turned to Harry and said, “I better see you in a minute.”

She dropped the powder and announced, “The Burrow!”

Green flames burst from her feet, and Sally and all their luggage disappeared into the fireplace.

Percy howled.

He kicked and shook his head from left to right, banging the sides of his head against Harry’s chest. Harry staggered for a moment, stunned.

“You’ll see her!” Harry hurriedly said, grabbing a fistful of the floo powder from Tom who was watching Percy fondly.

“Such an alert child,” he spoke as Percy was screaming his lungs out. Trails of tears leaked out of his eyes, and his face grew red. The baby carrier shook as he waved his pudge fists, and suddenly, his powerful heels kicked Harry’s gut hard.

The whispers from the tables grew louder in confusion, and Harry wrapped an arm tightly around Percy before leaping into the fireplace and yelling, “The Burrow!”

It was a miracle that they ended up at the right grate.

Harry and Percy landed in the Weasleys’ fireplace, stumbling out as Harry coughed and Percy sucked in a breath of fresh air before beginning his unholy shrieks. 

“What?” Sally cried, perfectly fine. She had been standing beside Mrs. Weasley, both their smiles dropping into shock when they saw Percy throwing an absolute fit.

“He panicked when you left!” Harry cried, trying to hold onto the baby.

But Percy had seen his mother now. With a final kick into Harry’s stomach, he lunged forwards, the straps of the baby carrier ripping loudly.

Sally caught him just in time, and Percy began wailing again, gripping her jumper.

Harry pressed a hand into his gut, wincing. That had not been normal baby strength. Then again, this was the infant who had crushed the head of a snake with his bare hands.

Ron, who had been standing by the couch facing the fireplace, said, “So, that’s how your summer’s been?”

“Shut it,” Harry grumbled.

Mrs. Weasley tapped her wand on the baby carrier and fixed it in a pinch. Then she examined the material and said, “This is tough. How did he tear it?”

“Probably a wizard?” Ron said.

Harry laughed nervously. “I wouldn’t bet on it. Um, hi, Mrs. Weasley. This is my cousin, Sally.”

Molly grinned at Sally, who had managed to comfort Percy. “Yes, we have communicated.”

Sally was intrigued by the Burrow’s interior. She peered at all the ongoing enchantments of the knitting needles making a jumper on the sofa and the bread in a pan, rising up despite any fire around it. The Burrow was warm and brightly lit, especially against the background of heavy showers outside. Devon was just as dreary as London.

“We already had breakfast, Molly,” Sally said, as Molly plopped plates of delicious sausages and green salad with slices of piping hot bread. It looked artisanal.

“This is brunch, dear,” Molly assured her. “Eat up, Harry. Would little Percy like some milk and biscuits?”

Sally tried to peel Percy off of her shoulder. But he whined and held on tighter than a koala.

“Maybe a little later,” Sally said. “The floo probably didn’t agree with him.”

“It wasn’t the floo,” Harry muttered.

Footsteps echoed from the stairs, and Ginny skidded into view. She was ecstatic to see Percy again. She ignored Harry completely and swooped over to where the baby was dolefully hiding his face in Sally’s neck.

“Hi, Percy!” she squealed. “Remember me? Ginny?”

Percy raised his head, his eyes still red and wet. His face momentarily brightened. “Eegee!”

“That’s me!”

With a little coaxing, Percy loosened his death grip on Sally and let Ginny carry him around the kitchen, keeping his mother in his vicinity.

“Thanks,” Sally sighed in relief. “This kid, I swear.”

Harry chuckled. “That could be his tagline. This kid, I swear: featuring Percy Jackson.”

Molly's oldest, Bill arrived. he was followed by Ron and the twins who joined them for brunch and tea. Sally’s eyes widened at Fred and George’s entrance, taking in their overly innocent smiles. She turned to Molly and spoke, “You have your hands full.”

“Yes,” Molly said, scrutinising Fred and George carefully. “We’re behaving for our guests, do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Skip!” Fred saluted, and George reached to shake Sally’s hand.

“I must tip my hat off to you, Ms. Jackson!” George exclaimed. “Did you truly tell off Harry’s loving aunt last year?”

“Over the phone,” Sally admitted. “It was a non-starter, to be honest.”

“I’m glad everything worked out,” Molly said firmly. “Sally, how was London? Did you visit Diagon Alley?”

They enjoyed their scalding tea as the rain lashed the windows. Percy fell asleep a while later, and Sally tucked him in the room where Molly had arranged for her to spend the night.

“It used to be Percy’s,” Molly spoke. “My Percy. He’s been wanting to move in with… with his girlfriend,” she whispered, “and took the opportunity when you wrote you were coming here.”

“How old is he?” Sally asked, placing Percy in the middle of the single bed and pulling the curtains shut. It was a small room but was neat and additionally equipped with a dresser, a desk, and a table.

“Just turned 18,” Mrs. Weasley sighed. “He and my second oldest, Charlie, were busy today.”

The two women watched Percy breathe peacefully as though he’d never thrown a fit in his life.

Sally left a gap in the door, and they headed back. She said, “Tell me about your clock, Molly. Is it really powerful magic?”

It was evening when Mr. Weasley arrived. He flooed into the living room, having avoided his usual apparation into the yard. The weather showed no signs of letting up.

“Molly?” he called, dusting the soot off his cloak, and heard his wife call him from the kitchen. He found a large group seated at the table, cutting vegetables for supper.

“Mr. Weasley,” Sally greeted him, standing up and shaking his arm.

“Ms. Jackson, welcome! Please call me Arthur,” he said happily, even more excited than Tom the barman had been. “And Harry, how are you?”

“I’m good, Mr. Weasley,” Harry said, as he and Ron blinked hard from chopping the onions.

“Call me Sally,” Sally said and nudged a drowsy Percy in the belly. “Say hi, baby.”

“Ababa,” Percy mumbled, yawning.

“And same to you,” Arthur said amused.

Sally and Harry shared a look as Arthur spoke to his wife about a Ministry thing. The evening was their only chance to talk about Padfoot and Wormtail.

Luckily, Molly was pleased with the kids’ work and sent them to their rooms to get the last of their packing done for tomorrow’s train journey. Arthur helped Molly start the cooking. Sally watched as they simply tapped the dishes which began shuffling the ingredients and heating up.

Harry stopped Ron from heading up and they stood by the kitchen door. Bill paused as well, curious.

Sally watched him. "Ron?"

Ron shared a glance with his oldest brother and nodded.

Sally said, “Alright. Molly? Arthur? Bill? Shall we sit down? There’s something we need to discuss.”

The couple agreed, bemused as Ron joined Harry. Bill followed, on high alert.

Sally exhaled and turned to Ron, “Ready?”

“Not really?” Ron mumbled.

Arthur watched, worried. “Is something the matter? Was there a problem at the Ministry?”

“No,” Sally said. “I wanted to talk about Scabbers.”

Molly and Arthur were surprised.

She carefully explained the whole story about Scabbers being an Animagus who was Peter Pettigrew and how he framed Sirius and got away with it successfully.

Molly had a hand over her heart, breathing deeply. “Merlin! No, that can’t be, Sally! I can’t imagine… Percy found him in the garden! Scabbers wasn’t anything special!”

Percy looked up when he heard his name. He kicked unhappily when nobody paid him any attention. Harry handed him his dolphin toy, and the baby was appeased.

“Mum,” Ron said quietly. “I saw Scabbers transform into that man. He’s Pettigrew.”

Molly sucked in a sharp breath of air. Arthur and Bill had gone pale.

“Are you sure about this?” Bill whispered, eyes flitting between the boys before turning to Sally. “This means he was at our house for years!”

“Mostly at Hogwarts,” Ron tried to say. “Percy started school after a few years after we found him.”

“But then… what about Black?” Arthur asked. “Are you saying he’s innocent?”

“He is,” Harry said, leaving no room for doubt. “He wasn’t the secret keeper. Pettigrew was. And when Sirius realised what happened, he went straight for him. But Pettigrew bit his own finger off and blasted the entire street with all those Muggles. He escaped through the sewers.”

Molly’s voice leaked desperation. “But surely, you told Professor Dumbledore? The Headmaster would have done something about this!”

“Scabbers got away,” Sally said quietly. “The children didn’t have proof. They did everything they could, but without the rat, the Minister wouldn’t simply believe that a dead man isn’t actually dead and that a convict is innocent.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “An innocent soul in Azkaban… it’s inhumane.”

“He survived,” Harry said, meeting their eyes. “Sirius said he kept his sanity because he knew he was innocent. It wasn’t a happy thought, so the dementors couldn’t take it away from him.”

Arthur swallowed thickly. “Then this changes a great many things I had once thought about Crouch.”

Molly looked surprised. “Barty Crouch?”

“He conducted the Death Eater trials,” Arthur said, frowning. “He was ruthless and a force to be reckoned with. I can’t imagine how he could have missed Black’s statement or his accusing Pettigrew. Crouch wasn’t one to Vanish truths under a carpet.”

“Sirius didn’t get a trial,” Sally said.

Arthur fell back against his chair. Molly’s eyes watered.

“I don’t know if power went to Crouch’s head,” Sally said slowly. “But from everything I heard about him sending his own son to Azkaban, firing his house elf for barely picking up a wand, and skipping Sirius’s trial, I don’t have a good picture of the man.”

“We looked up to Crouch,” Molly whispered sadly. “When my brothers were killed, he took the case himself and sentenced Dolohov and four other Death Eaters to Azkaban. It was the shortest trial of the century.”

Sally nodded, a lump sitting in her throat.

Ron looked uncomfortable at the mention of the heart-wrenching past. But he shuffled closer to his mother, and she clasped his hand. Bill wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

“You should have been safe at Hogwarts,” Molly said, now angrily. “Scabbers was with you the entire time. He could have hurt you!”

“He didn’t.” Ron was quick to reassure her.

Harry added, “Sirius thinks Pettigrew was waiting to hear something about Voldemort before deciding anything.”

Molly gasped. Arthur looked furious. “What did the Headmaster say about this?”

“We didn’t have any evidence to convince anyone,” Harry said.

“Harry and I spoke to a lawyer,” Sally said. “We didn’t tell him the truth about Pettigrew and Sirius, but we asked him to dig into Sirius’s case. He thinks we’re just worried about how the Ministry hasn’t found him yet and how he used to be so close to the Potters. We’re hoping that if the lawyer can find good answers and realise that certain things don’t fit, then we can start piecing evidence even without Pettigrew.”

Arthur nodded, deep in thought. “The long game. It might take months, perhaps years, to dig up enough proof.”

“That’s if we don’t catch Pettigrew,” Sally said, sitting up straight.

Molly was incensed. “He better hope I never find him. Twelve years! Who hides as a rat for 12 years?!”

“AFRGH!” Percy spluttered.

“Well put,” Harry murmured.

“Harry and Hermione are getting wandless lessons,” Ron blurted.

Harry gave him an exasperated look, and Sally said, “Well, they are.”

If anything, Arthur and Molly were even more surprised. Bill was intrigued. 

But Sally explained the situation, and they agreed that it was certainly the smart thing to do.

“But it’s so dangerous for minors,” Molly fretted. “I don’t know if Ron can—”

“Yes, I can!” Ron said, outraged.

“What your mother means,” Arthur said pointedly, “is that Remus Lupin seems ready to take on just three students. I’m sure the price will be substantial. And it’s not fair on your siblings, Ron.”

“Ron knows the secret, though,” Harry said when Ron began kicking his heel. “Pettigrew might tell the wrong people about him, Hermione, and me.”

“He’s right, Mum,” Bill added. “Ron’s more or less involved.”

Molly stuttered, grabbing Ron’s arm.

“We don’t think he’ll do anything right away,” Sally interjected. “But we should be proactive. Harry lost his wand during the stampede. If he hadn’t been with friends, it could have been so dangerous. I asked Remus to start him with the basics. McGonagall will be in the room when they start actually casting the spells so she can manage any concerns. But I want Harry to start the theory this term.”

Arthur and Molly shared quiet looks.

“We’ll think about it,” he spoke.

Ron wasn’t happy. But Molly’s watery eyes prevented him from protesting.

The rain continued through the night. By dawn, it was a mere drizzle.

Sally didn’t sleep too well. England was possibly not for her. Or the conversation with Molly and Arthur had rattled her. She hoped they wouldn’t turn their backs on her. She relied on their letters to feel better about Harry being so far away. The Weasleys had done this seven times, watching their children toddle away with heavy trunks onto a train that took them far from home. Sally was struggling with just one.

She looked over to Percy, slumbering in the rickety old cot Arthur had provided from the attic. The baby had no trouble sleeping in new places.

Will you break my heart too when you leave? she wondered.

Percy’s breathing was light, every exhale like a puff that ruffled the sheet below him.

It’ll break theirs if I don’t let go, Sally decided.

Thankfully, Arthur got a Ministry cab to take them to London. Sally didn’t mind the floo, but after seeing Percy’s reaction to it, this was for the better.

“Everyone front and center. We’re leaving in five minutes!” Molly roared into the house. She was standing by the door, having cast a repelling charm against the rain. However, she kept having to recast it because she was holding Percy in her arms, and he kept canceling the charm.

By the time Harry and the Weasleys were thundering through the house with their trunks and bird cages, Sally had her bags ready, too. She stood with Bill by the gate, talking to the driver. Arthur had to duck out to help a man with a crazy eye emergency.

“Es, we’re late, yeh know?” the driver told them and Bill commiserated, “I’m sure we will manage. The weather’s been horrendous for days.”

“We’ll be fine,” Sally said, mostly assuring herself. It was a four-hour drive, but Arthur had called the car an hour early, knowing his family. It was nearly half past six when they set off to the city.

Percy dozed during the ride, which was a miracle, seeing as the car was not silent. Sally grinned, watching as Harry, usually quiet and reserved, was pulled into silly conversations, thus having to defend his own odd takes on whether hopping chocolate or unreliable beans were better. Sally wondered if they were code words before remembering the strange candy wizards had.

They reached King’s Cross in good time. Molly chaperoned the boys, and Ginny sadly handed a now awake Percy back to Sally before taking control of her trunk.

Hermione spotted them thanks to the ruckus (it wasn’t hard).

“Sally,” Jean greeted her, beaming. “Molly, hello!”

“Hello,” Molly smiled. “This is my oldest, Bill.”

“Charmed,” Bill said, shaking their hands. Both Grangers appreciated his single earring.

“How was the trip down here?” Sally asked.

“The tube’s always worked for us,” Jean replied.

“Fourth year already,” John said, shaking his head and watching his daughter chatter with Ron and Harry. “Almost halfway there.”

They exchanged pleasantries with a few people. Harry introduced Sally and Percy to Neville Longbottom, a chubby-faced boy in his year. A stern-looking elderly woman flanked him, wearing an outrageous fashion of magenta robes with a… a stuffed vulture on her hat.

Percy pointed at the hat and went, “Ooooh!”

“Hello, Mrs. Longbottom,” Sally said. “Hello, Neville. Harry’s told me about you.”

Neville looked surprised. “He has?”

“Of course, I did,” Harry said.

“So you are friends with Harry Potter?” Mrs. Longbottom barked. “I could have sworn it was a tale. You need to speak up more, Neville. And who are you?”

She threw the question at Sally, who blinked back blankly. “Erm, Sally Jackson. And this is my son, Percy.”

“Muggles?” she asked, turning her nose up in the air.

“Yep,” Sally said. “And you’re a witch?”

Neville’s eyes widened. Harry’s eyes darted between them.

Mrs. Longbottom huffed. “At least you have a backbone. I’ve been hearing all sorts of nonsense about the people who managed to finagle Harry Potter.”

“You should update your sources,” Sally told her.

“Yes, I shall,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “You hear that, Neville? Speak up and speak loud.”

“Yes, Gran,” Neville mumbled like he was used to failing her expectations.

Sally’s heart skipped a beat, recalling the story behind Neville’s upbringing.

“A minute to departure,” Molly called, and the kids hemmed and hawed, finally making their way to the train.

Percy squawked when he saw them leave.

Ginny cried out, “I shall miss you, my darling!”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft, Gin.”

“I hope you forget Ron!” Ginny continued, waving to Percy. Hermione waved and blew a kiss to her parents.

Harry paused, his eyes widening. He rushed back and hugged Sally tight. She smiled into his shoulder and whispered, “Thought you forgot. Stay safe, Harry.”

“I’ll do my best,” he promised.

Harry kissed Percy’s cheek and blew a raspberry. Percy kicked happily, hands opening and closing towards him. Sally waved his dolphin, dragging his sight away from Harry, who took the opportunity to bolt.

The steam engine whistled, blowing thick white clouds over their heads. The carriages jolted as the behemoth began to move. Sally read the gold print on red paint stating Hogwarts Express.

Across the platform, families were waving goodbye to their children. Kids of all ages peeked out of the windows, sticking their arms out to wave back and holler.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and his siblings’ faces were visible in the glass pane of the carriage door as they waved to Sally’s group.

The train pulled from the station, and Sally’s heart grew heavier. Percy must have felt it because his face screwed up, and he burst into furious tears.

“I know how you feel,” Jean told him sadly.

The train disappeared into the distance, and Sally exhaled. She brought Percy out of his carrier and hugged him close, patting his back.

“Sally, Molly, Bill?” John asked. “Jean and I would like to invite you to a late breakfast. There’s a nice cafe just around the corner. Can you spare some time?”

Sally nodded. She was thankful he’d asked. She wasn’t sure how she could have broached the question while soothing a screaming baby.

Chapter Text

Harry could practically hear Percy wailing even as they left the station.

He breathed deeply and made his way down the carriage, holding up Hedwig’s cage. They meandered through the crowd of kids now smaller than Harry.

“Let’s catch a compartment,” Hermione said, standing on her toes to find an empty space.

“Buzz off, Ginny,” Ron told his sister.

But Ginny frowned. “No, we need to talk. All of us.”

“We have actual stuff to discuss,” Ron said pointedly.

“Oh, yeah, you do,” George said, grinning madly.

“Some stuff about rats and escapees and extra lessons, no doubt,” Fred added, meeting Harry’s wide eyes.

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “How do you know?!”

“We eavesdropped on you, obviously!” Ginny rolled her eyes.

Harry found an empty compartment and dove in, pulling the others behind them.

“Look,” Ron said furiously. “Mum and Dad are probably gonna turn down the lessons anyway, so don’t expect anything from me!”

“They might say that because there’s four of us still at school and Scabbers knows everything there is to know about us,” Fred pointed out. “Unless we convince them to let you learn.”

Harry and Hermione paused.

“What’s your plan?” Harry asked, hesitantly.

“Gin, Fred, and I won’t put up a fuss,” George said. “We’ll even pitch in to pay Lupin.”

Ron squinted. “What’s in it for you?”

“Maybe we care about you, Ronald? Maybe we want you to actually learn how to protect yourself?” Fred said loudly.

Ron didn’t buy it.

“Fine,” George relented. “The three of you will teach us the theory.”

Ron spluttered.

Hermione sat up, interested. “You want us to pass on everything Lupin tells us?”

“Sure,” Ginny said. “It’ll be good revision for you. Teaching is the best way to learn anything.”

Ron scowled. “And you know that how?”

“I tutor Astronomy and History,” Ginny snapped. “I can actually stay up through Binns’ lectures because I’m making notes to help others!”

Ron blinked. “You’re awake in his class? To teach?”

“Yes, I shockingly have a life, Ronald.”

Fred waved an arm. “The point is, Ginny gets a decent pay from her fellow kiddies every month. George and I are going to start up our savings again.”

“Unless we find Bagman lurking around the castle,” George muttered.

“We can send Mum and Dad how much ever we can,” Fred insisted. “Ron, you, Hermione and Harry can learn as much as you can from Lupin. Which will be a lot seeing as he’s the best we had in DADA for years. Then you turn around and teach us.”

George nodded. “ Fred and I can help with some of the tougher points on the theory too. We’re starting non-verbal spells this year. You want to borrow our books?”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. She pulled a pouting Ron and a baffled Harry outside the compartment.

The crowd outside had diminished relatively so they could speak in confidence.

“This is good!” Hermione said excitedly. “The more people are involved, the better we can learn. And Ginny’s right, teaching them will help us reinforce the concepts!”

“They always have to do this!” Ron argued. “I can’t ever have my own thing going on. My family always has to poke their noses!”

“It’s for our benefit, Ron,” Hermione scolded him. “Ginny is willing to pay for your classes. Fred and George too.”

Ron raised his eyes to the ceiling in frustration.

“Ron,” Harry said quietly. “They care. They want you to know how to defend yourself. Sally’s been running around with me around London talking to people so I can be safer. Ginny, Fred, and George can’t do that, so they’re trying their way.”

Ron scuffed the side of his trainer against the floor. “Fine! Fine!”

Ron slid the door open and glared at them. “You can join us, on one condition.”

Ginny was outraged. “We’re already offering to pay—”

“My dress robes are wanked,” Ron cut her off.

Fred raised an eyebrow. “You want new robes? With what gold, Ronniekins?”

“You’ve been cooped up in your room all summer, experimenting on your trick candy,” Ron pointed out. “If you can make my robes look less pathetic, I’ll agree to the whole deal.”

Fred and George shared a glance and nodded. “Yeah, alright. We’ll figure something out.”

Ginny leaped up. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Ron sighed. Ginny, Fred, and George high-fived.

“We’ll need some time for the robes though,” George smirked. I’m pretty sure it used to be Aunt Muriel’s.

Ron grumbled under his breath.

“We’ll have till winter,” Harry said, recalling his conversation with Madam Malkin. “She said it’s for a ball. We’ll need dates.”

The Weasleys gawked.

“A ball?” Ginny asked, curious.

“It’s for the Triwizard Tournament,” Hermione said.

“The what now?”

As Hermione explained what her new lawyer had informed her parents just a week before, Harry couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in his chest, worse than hearing Percy wail.

Fred and George had barely begun listing what they could do with the prize money, already planning on volunteering, when the door slid open with a bang.

“Potter!” Malfoy drawled, his pale eyes sweeping over the rest of them. “And his funny pals.”

“Malfoy,” Harry retorted. “And… whatever those two are.”

Crabbe and Goyle scowled at him. All three Slytherins were taller and nastier than ever.

“I saw that Muggle with you,” Malfoy said with relish. “She looked like she’d never seen a train before.”

The others growled and Harry clenched his fists. “Watch your mouth.”

“I’m sure she had a lot to talk about with Granger’s parents. Taxes and other riveting stuff.”

Hermione glared. “So, your family doesn’t pay taxes, Malfoy?”

He huffed. “My family doesn’t need to work unlike some plebeians.”

“You mean your father was fired from the school board and can’t find work anywhere else?” George asked.

“He should apply for unemployment,” Ron smirked.

Malfoy flushed. “I’m sure your father knows all about the process.”

“Buzz off,” Ginny hissed.

Harry stood up and grabbed the door but Malfoy held on.

“I guess I was interrupting a fascinating conversation,” Malfoy snapped. “What was it? Planning on entering?”

“What?” Harry scowled.

“Are you going to enter?” Malfoy repeated like he was stupid. “Maybe increase your chances of Weasel ducking unemployment.”

“What, the tournament?” Harry blurted. “No, thanks. I’d like to see you go up against dragons and gauntlets. It’s not our families that don’t have work. Your parents might need the gold to fix that face of yours if you don’t leave!”

Harry got a good grip on the door and slammed it shut. Malfoy mouthed something at him and marched away with Crabbe and Goyle making faces at Harry.

“Urgh,” Hermione muttered. “I almost wish he’d compete. Do you know how many people died during the last tournament?”

“Fourteen!” Sally exclaimed. “Fourteen people died?!”

Jean and John nodded solemnly. Molly grimaced.

“That cockatrice escaping during one of the tasks was the last straw,” Bill said. “Three judges were attacked and the stands broke. Some students fell.”

Sally waved her palms in a stop sign. “What are they thinking, reviving it?”

Molly set her mug down, having devoured the coffee. “Arthur mentioned it the other day. When was it, Bill?”

“Just after the World Cup,” Bill sighed. “Dad said that the Ministry might be covering up their failure in finding Black by distracting the public with the Tournament.”

Jean stared. “That’s terrible! They’re willing to resurrect a… a death game after more than 200 years just to show themselves as competent?”

“Sounds like the British government,” John spoke quietly.

Sally sat back, watching Percy sleep in her lap. He had tuckered himself out after crying hard enough to cause a cloud burst. He had his thumb in his mouth but she didn’t dare pull it out. If luck would have it, he could stay asleep till they took the portkey back home where she could sob along with him.

“But they’re planning new regulations,” Molly added. “An age clause, I think.”

“Yes,” Bill nodded. “Only 17 and above can enter.”

Jean sighed. “Well, there’s that.”

They moved on to more pleasant matters of Lupin teaching Ron, Hermione, and Harry.

“We’d like to have Hermione learn it,” John agreed, nodding with his wife. “I don’t appreciate the messes that the authorities are making as of late.”

“I’d like all my children to learn too,” Molly sighed. “But with the price Remus has kept…”

“I was the one who proposed that salary,” Sally said, apologetically. “He’s supremely qualified and I didn’t want him to turn it down. That’s why I wanted to ask if I could pay for Ron and Hermione’s classes?”

The four of them were taken aback.

“Oh, Sally. That’s far too much!

“We couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I didn’t mean that we couldn’t afford it for Ron.”

“Ms. Jackson, that’s not needed—”

That conversation went on for a while. And as usual, Percy didn’t wake up for it.

Both families ended up refusing, which Sally could respect. She probably wouldn’t have accepted either. They didn’t scoff her for it though and when the time came, they exchanged hugs and handshakes, bidding Sally and Percy goodbye before she left for the States.

If anything, maybe the Tournament would take eyes off of Harry for once and he could enjoy his year as a normal student. Sally prayed quietly and sacrificed a chocolate frog in the fireplace to Poseidon.

He heard her, as did a few other gods.

Harry put more focus into his studies than usual.

Hermione quizzed him with question cards for his Ancient Runes entrance test which really helped lay on the pressure. Harry passed the test and began his AR classes. He sent an excited letter to Sally and she sent back a small box of biscuits that were probably even better than the treats from Hogsmeade. He shared them with the others and continued to pay extra attention to his course work.

Harry had dropped Divination, the only one from his dorm to do so. He heard second-hand the Trelawney’s lamenting from Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus, and did not miss her one bit.

McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick were pleased with his added focus in their classes and Harry tried his hardest not to blush when Flitwick praised his Charms work just a few days into the term. Snape, if possible, was worse than before, probably harbouring an added grudge of Sirius escaping and Mad-Eye teaching DADA. Harry begrudgingly wrote to Sally every time Snape unfairly took points from him and Neville (which was every class now) and how brilliant and disturbing their new professor was, having been in the field in one of the worst decades of the century. (Even though Harry thought it was cruel to perform that curse in front of Neville.)

He tried to stay awake during History of Magic. Ginny’s trick of listening to Binns with the aim of teaching others actually helped. He pretended to want to teach Percy or Sally the added lore of the Goblin uprising, and managed to cut down on his yawning and staring-out-the-window breaks significantly.

By the time the first week of classes were done, he had picked his assignment topic, the first of everyone (even Hermione who was deliberating between several ideas.) Harry figured not enough people had traced the odd historical connections between Hereward the Absconder and Barnabas Deverill.

“That’s such an interesting theme!” Hermione praised when he shared his topic with her and Ron. “You’re right, Bathilda Bagshot wrote about Hereward’s horrible life story (he killed his own father, did you know?) but even she gave just a short paragraph drawing his links to Deverill! Their hex casting was so similar everyone assumed Barnabas Deverill found Hereward’s journal—”

“And here, I thought you chose the topic because Barnabas was an ancestor of Philbert Deverill,” Ron said, smiling lazily. “He was one of the managers of Puddlemere United, you know?”

Harry nodded patiently. “You’re both right. There’s a lot of speculation from Hereward to Deverill and ol’ Barnabas might have been a secret quidditch fan like his descendant.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but directed her focus to Ron, “What are you picking?”

“I could write about the art of grass growing and Binns would mark it an A,” Ron said.

“You can’t slack off in the fourth year, Ron! We’re starting long-term preparations for our OWLS!”

“What are you working on?” he asked. “Maybe I’ll piggyback off of you.”

“You will do no such thing!” Hermione said. “My working title is The Disastrous Absence of Elves in the ‘Hogwarts: A History’ Editions: The Abhorrent Neglect of the History of House Elves in the Space of Pro-Witch and Wizard Leanings.”

Ron pointed his quill at her. “Your working title needs work.”

“So do you!”

Most of their study periods were spent on the books Bill had sent Harry on wandless theory. Remus sent notes separately to Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the first few chapters he wanted them to read before their upcoming Hogsmeade trip.

Harry wrote down his doubts on non-verbal and wandless theory the night before their visit to the village.

Even Ron had diligently made a list of questions to ask Remus during their meet up. Hermione had fifty-seven paragraph queries, colour-coded based on the various theories they’d read in the first few chapters.

They met in the Three Broomsticks and were pleased to see Sirius as well, in a new disguise showing off his blond hair and clean-shaven face. He seemed years younger and practically unrecognisable and it was not just because of the disguise.

“Polyjuice?” Hermione asked eagerly as they all sat down at one of the quiet booths in the back.

“Oh, yes,” Sirius said, flicking his golden locks. “Am I not fetching?”

“Yeah, like Lockhart,” Ron grinned. Sirius groaned.

Remus chortled. “Okay. So, you have only three of these trips this year, I believe. But I don’t want to take up the entire day here. So let’s go over a couple of questions from each of you, discuss what you can continue for the rest of the month and then three of you can head on to the rest of the village.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, disappointed.

“You need to enjoy the day too,” Sirius pointed out when even Harry and Ron looked ready to protest.

They began with Hermione’s questions. Remus was determined to cross out some of her doubts, stating they could work together to figure out some of them on their own while he addressed the ones connected to Ron and Harry’s.

“You’re thinking too hard on very specific ideas,” Remus told them. “Consider the idea of accidental magic. At one point in your life, you had cast magic without wands or incantations. It was your will that dominated the scene and your magic obeyed.”

“But accidental magic is raw and uncontrolled,” Hermione said, scribbling notes on her book. “It doesn’t always do exactly what we wanted. I once made my book float to me from my shelf. But when I tried to do it again, the shelf tipped over.”

“So it’s powerful, you just needed direction,” Ron figured.

“That’s a good way to describe it,” Remus said. “But accidental magic manifests differently for every child, depending on the situation and what you want.”

“Huh,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I once flew up to the roof of my school.”

Sirius choked back a laugh. “Atta boy!”

“Dudley and his gang were chasing me. I remember jumping and landing on the roof,” Harry said.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Were you planning on climbing to the roof?”

Sirius frowned now. “Why were they chasing you?”

Ron wondered, “Did you apparate?”

“Uh… no. They always did that. And I don’t really know about the last one,” Harry said.

Remus shook his head in amazement. “Rare but purposeful power. You had direction.”

“Has Sally spoken to Petunia face-to-face?” Sirius asked nonchalantly. “I’d like to be there for that conversation.”

Harry looked straight ahead, avoiding Ron and Hermione’s gazes.

Remus collected their focus back to the curriculum. They had a robust lunch, exchanging notes and ideas. Harry found himself participating more, recognising the conversational quality in Remus’s teaching and Sirius’s add-ons. It was much better than a classroom setting and if Harry had to pick, Remus still ranked higher than Moody despite the ex-Auror being excellent at his new job.

“That was actually fun,” Ron said as he, Harry, and Hermione made their way through the village’s High Street.

“I’m surprised he connected accidental magic to wandless power,” Hermione spoke. “Not a lot of books dwell on that. They gloss over it because of the ‘lack of direction’ aspect and wandless magic is all about focus and fortitude…”

Harry smiled as he listened to them go on about the lesson. The look Sirius had given him, both proud and frustrated, had warmed him up considerably. It was a good day.

October rolled around. The Triwizard Tournament slowly gathered everyone’s attention.

As sixth years, Fred and George had extra study hours to split their time between homework, wandless theory, and concocting an ageing potion.

“I’m sure the impartial judge will be impartial,” Hermione frowned one evening, when the five of them plus Ginny had gathered in the library to work on their non-verbal coursework.

“Or it’ll be some bloke who’s older than Dumbledore who no one can really refute,” George said smugly. “Freddie and I’ve been reading up on the tournament’s track record. The judge chooses the champion every time without bias or even seeing how strong our spellwork is. There has to be some other kind of criteria they observe. Besides, we just need to age up a few months, so it’s not like a noticeable thing.”

“It’ll be nice for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to witness the colossal mess up you two will do,” Ginny said, without looking up from her notes. “They need a proper welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Watch and learn, non-believer,” Fred said, poking her side.

Dear Sally and Percy,

Loved the latest photo. It figures I’ll miss Percy learning to stand on his own. Send more pics! He looks ready to dash about the place. Please keep my room locked; I just know he’ll get into everything.

The delegates arrived yesterday. Filch and the elves cleaned the castle from top to bottom. Yes, did I say there are elves at Hogwarts? We met them in the kitchens. Dobby was there. He’s the only one getting paid. We saw Winky too. She’s not doing so well, she misses Crouch, I guess. Hermione was furious about the situation. But we’re not really sure what to do.

Most of the elves seem happy, thankfully. They cleaned the castle. The paintings are shining. The disappearing doors and moving staircases are on their best behavior. I think even Peeves is hiding somewhere. The champion selection is tonight. My vote’s for Angelina. She’s on my Quidditch team and she’s really good.

Remus has us working on non-verbal practice, so I’ve just been yelling the spells in my mind. It works half the time. I summoned a goblet of water the other day and had to change out of my robes because none of us knew the drying spell. We’ll start wandless practicals next semester, but until then, we have to drill the non-verbal work into our heads.

It helps that I’m getting a lot of theory covered in Ancient Runes too. It’s like learning a new language, except every other word can set your parchment on fire.

Things are going well. Snuffles says hi.

Have a great Halloween!

Love,
Harry.

Sally’s Halloween consisted of shifting all the movables a few feet higher. Percy had begun standing and toddling around on his play mat. It was only a matter of time before he was running and driving her mad.

“Awee,” Percy said, seated in his Pack-n-Play. He was pointing up at the owl perched on the window.

“No, this is the newspaper, sweetie,” Sally said, paying the post owl a few knuts. “Harry just wrote yesterday, he’ll write again after the weekend.”

Sally received at least two letters daily now. Hayes wrote to her about Harry’s estate, also transferring any communication from Gringotts with regards to the vault. McIntyre wrote about the meagre but valuable pieces of information regarding Sirius Black and his entire family tree. It was good to know that Sirius technically had control of the Black family gold in case they went to trial. Remus also wrote bi-weekly, updating her on Harry’s progress which was slow but steady.

“Awee!” Percy announced.

Two owls had flapped up to the window, each with an envelope tied to its foot. Their feathers were ruffled from the wind and she quickly untied the letters. One was from Mr. Shafiq, the kind wizard who had an artifact restorer store in Diagon Alley. He had touched up the old watches that had once belonged to Lily and James. Though he couldn’t fix them, they were display-worthy, now sitting on the glass shelf in the penthouse hall.

The second letter had McGonagall’s handwriting.

“Awee,” Percy repeated.

“Broken record,” Sally muttered. She dropped the letters beside the newspaper and offered Percy one of his toys, a soft foam hammer.

He eagerly grabbed for the toy and distracted himself by banging away at his play mat, while Sally sat back in her cozy armchair to read the post while sipping her coffee.

She nearly spat it out when her eyes fell on the Daily Prophet headline.

“Sh*t, bloody f*ck, what the bloody hell, Merlin’s saggy nipples, REMUS!” Sirius hollered from the kitchen, gripping the newspaper like it was the last bit of gold in the world.

“Keep it down, you’re not supposed to yell,” Remus hissed, running in from the living room.

“HAVE YOU SEEN THE PAPERS?!” Sirius shouted.

Remus grabbed the Prophet from him, slapping a hand over his mouth. “I know there aren’t any neighbours close enough, but you still can’t ye—”

He stopped, now gawking at the headlines.

“Well, eff me,” Remus whispered.

“Later,” Sirius said, shaking the paper in front of them. “Even with Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, all the delegates, and the bozos from the Ministry under one roof, someone still goes and screws his life again!”

An owl tapped on their window. Remus wrenched it open and divested the post bird of its letter. Sally’s handwriting was barely legible.

Remus,

Emergency: Harry is missing.
Percy and I are arriving at Hogwarts in an hour. Arthur is accompanying us. Meet Minerva and McIntyre at the gates now.

Sally.

“Minister,” Senior Undersecretary Cakeworth spoke, hurrying to catch up to Cornelius Fudge. “Any news yet?”

Fudge was wiping his face with an embroidered handkerchief. He had only just apparated back to the Ministry after a long and trying night at the castle. They had all been bamboozled when Potter had managed to weasel himself into the tournament. And even worse, when Fudge, Crouch, and Bagman, had been about to leave, one of the prefects had run up to the Headmaster saying that the boy had run away!

“No sign of him! The Weasley boy said he never turned in for the night. He left the tower around 10 pm.” Fudge blurted. “The teachers combed through the castle. It’s as though Potter vanished!”

“Oh, dear!” Cakeworth whispered. “Dolores informed me that the International Transportation office has arranged a portkey from New York to London and the visitors have already arrived.”

“I will need to postpone the meeting,” Fudge said, as he walked briskly into his office.

“No, sir. They’re not the Wizengamot applicants,” Cakeworth whispered, his eyes widening, “it’s Harry Potter’s family.”

Fudge paused, his entire body freezing for a moment.

“Tell me you stopped them,” Fudge whispered, deadly quiet.

“Sir, Mr. Weasley from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office picked them up,” Cakeworth gulped. “They left for the castle ten minutes ago!”

“Stall them!” Fudge yelped. “Get Kingsley to meet with her directly! She’s a Muggle, she can’t just wander into the country—”

An owl zipped in through the window and dropped a bright red envelope on Fudge’s desk.

Both men paused in disbelief.

“Evanesco!” Fudge cried, but it was useless. The envelope shuddered and began smoking.

Cakeworth whispered, “Shall I cast the Imperturbable ch—”

The howler leaped into the air and exploded. The office was filled with smoke and the shrill ringing of a woman’s voice that Fudge had never heard before.

“—FOURTH TIME HE’S BEEN PULLED INTO SOME MAGICAL BULLSH*T! YOU DIDN’T EVEN BOTHER TO NOTIFY MY LAWYERS AND ME ABOUT SIRIUS BLACK AND THE DEMENTORS LAST TERM! I HAD TO READ ABOUT HARRY IN THE F@#$ING PAPERS!”

Fudge had forgotten that Americans had a distinctly different way of expressing their discontentment. He plugged his ears but could still hear her shrieking.

“AND HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE HIM OF VOLUNTEERING FOR A DAMN DEATH GAME?! WHAT KIND OF MINISTER POINTS FINGERS AT PEOPLE WITHOUT EVIDENCE?!”

People from other offices on the floor began to peer into the hallway, staring at Fudge and Cakeworth through the open door.

“EXPECT MY SOLICITORS TO REACH YOU FOR PROPERLY VERIFIED INFORMATION IF YOU CAN PROCURE IT! UNTIL THEN, HARRY HAS NO BUSINESS STAYING IN THE U.K. AND BEING SUBJECTED TO RIDICULOUS CLAIMS AND UNFOUNDED RUMORS OF REPORTERS WHO SEEM TO KNOW BETTER THAN YOU!”

The howler finally ended with its signature raspberry. It ripped itself up, the pieces fluttering gently back onto his table.

Heart hammering and sweat pooling, Fudge felt like he could breathe again.

“Mr. Cakeworth,” the Minister said, his voice sounding strange in the blessed silence. “Next time, engage the sound-proofing charms immediately.”

Chapter Text

The skies were blue. The flowers had long since fruited and had dropped their leaves. But flames burned bright.

Hestia sat in the form of a small child in simple yellow robes. The cheerful laughter and teasing of young heroes around her fueled her fire. She was quiet until he approached her.

 She smiled as her brother’s shadow carefully avoided her hearth.

“Did you hear?” he asked quietly.

Hestia stoked her coals gently. “I always hear the prayers from a home’s hearth. She has been vocal as of late.”

Poseidon raised his head and watched the campers trickle by, unaware of two deities in their presence. Camp Half-Blood was ever-bustling even without the overflowing presence of the children of the Big Three. Poseidon recalled just how many kids he often had every century. Ever since the oath, he was reminded of the absence of sweet thoughts, earnest hopes, and big dreams, taking up armaments in his name.

Hestia didn’t interrupt his contemplation.

“Are you mad at me?” Poseidon asked.

She watched him closely before patting the ground beside her. Poseidon shrunk down and sat in front of the warm fire. The scent of chocolate, sacrificed to him was present in her fire, but only a mere trickle of it.

“I am not angry,” Hestia sighed. “You cared for this woman, did you not?”

“I do,” Poseidon said quietly.

Hestia blinked up at his change of tense. “The child?”

“I love him.”

“And his uncle?”

Poseidon paused.

Hestia glanced knowingly. “Sally prays for Harry, true?”

“Yes,” he said reluctantly.

Hestia narrowed her eyes. “He is her family. She loves him. You love her. So it stands to reason—”

“We’re not discussing transitive properties,” Poseidon said.

His sister huffed. “The world would be all the better for it if we followed it.”

Poseidon lowered his head. “We are talking of witches and wizards. Mortal magic is not our domain, sister.”

Hestia smiled. “Whose domain is it then?”

He hesitated. “I’d rather not say… because there is more than one distantly affiliated with the magic wielders and it would be foolish to even guess their names out loud.”

Hestia nodded sadly. “We have been rather distant. The wixens have survived yet.”

“By the skin of their teeth,” Poseidon muttered. “The number of branches they have pruned by virtue of being new…”

Hestia smiled. “Then, it goes to show how helpful it will be if one of us sends a helping hand.”

Poseidon made a face. “Why me?”

The goddess of the hearth dipped her hand into the flames, bathing her skin in its warm glow. She said, “If not you, someone else will. Because there’s another god who heard Sally Jackson’s prayer.”

They stood on an empty train platform in north Scotland.

The wind was gentle but chilled. Sally pulled her long coat tighter, buttoning it over Percy’s already bundled body. The others were in their wizard’s cloak.

Arthur was looking off into the distance presumably where the castle was. Sally couldn’t see it, despite her clear-sightedness. There was a haze in the foreground of the distant mountains. She figured that might be where Hogwarts stood.

Sally gazed around, getting used to her new surroundings. Hogsmeade was the name of the station, entirely occupied by wizards. Remus found their group and jogged towards them from the direction of the village.

“Sally,” he greeted her. “And Mr. Weasley. Good morning.”

“Hello,” Arthur said, smiling grimly. “Please, call me Arthur. I just wish we could meet under better circumstances.”

In less than a minute, the lawyer apparated beside them, startling Sally. Percy chattered, his noises almost sounding like, “Maah, there, cheese!”

Finn McIntyre offered Sally a slip of paper with some words.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Scottish Highlands, United Kingdom.

Designation: 078-06-24-42

The haze disappeared and an immense castle construction manifested out of the air. She gawked at the majestic sight, unable to find words for a moment. She’d been mentally comparing Hogwarts to Camp Half-Blood for a while despite Harry telling her it was a castle. All the photos he had were of the grounds and some of the interior stone cobbled rooms.

“Huh,” Sally huffed. “Will it work for Percy?”

The lawyer observed the happy, gurgling baby. “I don’t believe he needs it. He can see the castle just fine.”

Predictably, Percy was kicking his feet from his place in the baby carrier, a look of utmost glee on his tiny face as he pointed at the school and babbled, “Awweee!”

She patted his soft head. “Yes, you incorrigible infant.”

They set off for the castle in a carriage pulled by scary black skeletal horses. Sally hadn’t protested before climbing in, but was still nervous. The men had no issue with the nightmare horses and neither did Percy. He didn’t even seem to register them, which she was thankful for. Remus sat in silence.

“Here’s the plan,” Sally said, startling the three of them. “We get in. Find Harry. And head back to the Ministry. I want to be back in Manhattan today.”

Arthur looked surprised. Remus fidgeted. “Sally… from what we know of the Triwizard Tournament, once you’re in, you’re bound to participate.”

“But Harry didn’t put his name in!” Sally insisted. “Finn, you can verify, right?”

McIntyre also grimaced. “This has an exceedingly complex set of rules. What we can do is read the contract front to back and isolate exactly what Mr. Potter might be subjected to. He might not have volunteered, but having his name chosen by the Goblet of Fire is serious.”

Sally bounced one of her legs and Percy giggled. “How long will you need to read it?”

“Depending on the length, it can take days,” he admitted. “We’re talking about magically binding oaths.”

“Okay, then we pick up Harry and a copy of the contract,” Sally said decisively. “Finn can read the whole thing and find loopholes or whatever we need to get Harry out of the competition. Until then, he stays in Manhattan.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “I doubt it will be that easy, Sally.”

“I would love to see what excuse they cook up this time,” she said darkly.

I want to get out of here. I want to go home.

Harry didn’t know at first how loud his thoughts had grown. He clutched his cloak closer, realising his lips were saying the words out loud. He exhaled and tried to relax his shoulders.

If anything, Harry was glad to hole up in the kitchens, hiding in a corner alongside Winky.

He sat beside her, their backs to the cool stone wall. Sounds of organised cooking and baking continued in the next door kitchen hall where Dobby had returned to after helping Harry hide here. He munched on the sandwiches Dobby had left him and tried to offer one to Winky who refused.

Winky was quiet, hiccuping occasionally, surrounded by empty bottles of Butterbeer. Tears had long since stopped falling from her face, but Harry figured the wrong word could set her off.

“Would you like to eat something, Winky?” he asked, hesitantly.

She shook her head.

“Well… I’d like a biscuit. Shall I get some for the both of us?”

Winky hiccupped. “No… no, thank you Mr. Harry Potter.”

“You can call me Harry,” he said quietly.

She sniffled. “You is… is as kind as my Master.”

Harry crushed the sandwich in his hand. He hadn’t liked Crouch during the World Cup and the man’s attitude of ‘binding magical contract’ had worn him thin. He doubted Crouch even knew what kindness meant.

“You are much nicer than he is,” Harry told her.

Those were the wrong words. Winky burst into loud sobbing and hugged her tankard like a plushie.

Harry winced. “Sorry, sorry!”

“So… sad! My Master… all alone!” she spoke painfully between heavy heaves of her small chest.

Yeah, losing his wife after sentencing his son to Azkaban. Why wouldn’t Crouch be alone?

“He was always so nice and kind to Winky!” she wailed. “Stuck for years! Winky was there when he was born!”

Harry leaned against the wall. “How was he as a kid?”

“Sweet, sweet boy,” Winky cried. She blinked her large eyes at him. “And so smart! He could read newspapers and understand politics!”

It didn’t sound like much of a childhood to Harry, but he wasn’t one to judge.

“Learned from important people!” Winky continued, glad to boast about her favourite person. “Learned Charms from Madam Smithie herself! Such smart spells he could do. Learned offense from Mister Sourman, best Auror!”

She went on, waxing poetry about her darling boy and Harry almost found it pleasant. It was much better to focus on someone else’s problems than his own.

He didn’t write to Sally. He should have. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He’d heard Dumbledore call out his name and things had gone screwy since then. Hundreds of eyes upon him, staring and glaring. Hermione’s urgent push that got him moving. Ron’s thunderous words that shocked and enraged him. That had been the most hurtful.

“You didn’t have to hide it.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“We could have gone for it together. Or did you tell Hermione?”

“Gone for what? I didn’t enter!”

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m usually an afterthought, why did I expect anything else.”

“Are you serious, right now?”

“No, I’m just taking a break from my jester role.”

“Ron, I didn’t put my name in!”

“Should have known you were planning something with the runes. Is that why you dropped divination?”

“Are you upset I made a choice to get a better education?!”

“You’ve been doing things like this for years! Why did Fred and George give you the map instead of me?”

“I dunno, ask them!”

“I literally cannot have one thing just for myself. That’s all I ask.”

“You HAVE everything!”

“... you have GOT to be kidding me. I have everything? You’re the one who’s loaded!”

“You have everything I ever wanted! An actual family who cares no matter what!”

“And you have that now!”

“You think it’s easy being away from Sally and Percy for months! I won’t get to see him grow up till I graduate! I only get them for the summer! I’d give my vault to get the chance to actually grow up with them and my parents! You have everything, Ron! You take them all for granted! You got an owl and you only complain about it. You get to learn from Remus but you can't stand having the others also get the same things you do. You sit in most of the same classes as I do, but you still expect me and Hermione to help with homework, as though you’re in pain if you have to think! Hermione’s getting sick of it, but she’ll still help you because unlike you, she doesn’t want to see you fail. You make her do all the work and slap your name on it as though that’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do. And you expect me to do the same! Just because I decided not to, doesn’t mean I’m suddenly not me. We’re in a school of magic! That’s one of the best things in the world! But if you hate the work, then leave!”

“...”

“One more thing. I DIDN’T put my name in the cup!”

Harry then grabbed his cloak and map and ran from the tower.

.

He sighed. So maybe he had lashed out.

He should have really sat Ron down to explain things. Harry knew Ron had been a little evasive ever since he’d told them that he was taking Ancient Runes. The worst part was that Ron did understand the theory. He easily knew what Remus was talking about. He just never applied himself the moment a topic was not intuitive.

Winky sniffled. Her eyes were closed and she murmured to herself, speaking too low for him to hear.

Harry wondered what everyone was doing. Surely, it was morning. What would they do when they realised he hadn’t shown up for classes?

McGonagall might write to Sally…

“She already has,” the shadows spoke.

Harry froze. He clutched his invisibility cloak and watched as the shadows from the artificial light flickered and swayed.

Winky dropped her tankard and fell asleep. It was too sudden for Harry to think it was natural.

No, there was someone in the room with them. The shadows morphed to the middle of the floor and formed a shape of a man, towering over Harry.

He was tall, his skin dark, his eyes burned gold, and his face shaped symmetrical like a gifted model. His sharp black robes accentuated the white shirt that glowed blindingly. Harry’s jaw dropped.

“Harry Potter,” the man greeted him. The shadows continued to drift around him.

Harry clutched his Invisibility Cloak closer and whispered. “Er, that’s me.”

The man watched him. He had no expression that Harry could identify.

“You prayed, did you not?” he asked.

Harry couldn’t understand. “Huh?”

“You prayed for help, child.”

Did I?

“Yes,” the man said patiently. “You asked to be taken home.”

Harry gawked. “I… I was thinking it. But how… who are you?”

The man walked towards him and Harry shrunk back. His heart thudded hard, slamming against his ribcage.

He kneeled in front of Harry and brushed the cloak’s soft surface. The cloak responded, fluttering on its own and dislodging the bread crumbs from Harry’s sandwich.

“When you hold on to an object of mine,” the man spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “my ears are open to your voice.”

Harry had zero clue what was happening. Was he dreaming this? How did someone just apparate in Hogwarts with no sound? Who was this person?

The man’s golden eyes peered closely, eerie to observe. Harry noticed he hadn’t blinked once.

Those eyes slid down and observed Harry’s forearm.

“It’s healed well,” the man noted.

Now something occurred to him. Harry was intensely reminded of breaking his arm more than a year ago. The crudely fixed arm was then addressed by Poseidon, with no sign of it ever having fractured.

Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re a god.”

The man smiled. “Can you guess which one?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m sorry, no. Er… your majesty.”

The shadows chortled around them.

“Call me Morty,” the god said, grinning and showing off his perfectly aligned teeth. “Now, do you want me to drop you home?”

Harry didn’t know what to say.

“It would be a comedy of errors, you see,” Morty the God continued. “For your sister is already here, looking for you.”

Harry blanched. “What!”

“The newspapers printed the happenings of last night,” Morty explained. “Sally Jackson contacted her lawyers and arrived here just a while ago.”

Harry’s head reeled. Sally was here? At the castle? Inside Hogwarts right now?

“And Percy?” he blurted.

Morty made a face. “Yes. The godling is here as well.”

Harry fell back against the wall. Despite everything, he actually felt better. Suddenly, he did want to go home, even if it was just for a while. He didn’t think he could stay at the castle and be subjected to everyone’s thoughts.

“Do you think I should leave, sir?” Harry asked.

Morty shrugged. It was such a disarming motion that it almost counteracted his golden eyes and the dancing shadows around them.

“It depends of course,” Morty said. “If you wish to continue the tournament, I would be pleased. It has been a long time since any favoured hero of mine has accomplished something.”

Harry didn’t know what to say.

“Of course, you have already accomplished a few feats,” Morty said. “And I am not so eager for you to try anything without more training. Killing the basilisk is enough fame for me. I would like you to survive to adulthood, if I’m being honest. But if you choose to compete, by all means, go ahead. You will have my endorsement.”

Harry had a feeling he needed a lawyer to continue this discussion. Because this god made no sense to him.

“Are you saying I have a choice?” he asked.

“You do,” Morty said. “Since you did not put your name in the goblet, the contract is not completely binding. Someone did it without your knowledge.”

A shiver went up his spine, “You believe me!”

Morty frowned. “Of course, I do. Are you prone to lying, Harry Potter?”

“Er… I try not to be.”

“Well then?”

Harry sat up eagerly. “Can you tell the judges? Tell them someone entered me in the tournament. That it’s not my fault!”

Morty raised a dark eyebrow. “What does it matter? It’s up to you, Harry Potter. They are mere humans. They have no hold over you. You are the Boy-Who-Lived. Regardless of what people do, your power exceeds them. If you do not wish to compete, then don’t.”

Harry frowned. “But… the contract?”

“Is for those who compete,” Morty spoke as he stood up. He grew taller, larger, as the shadows overcame him. The darkness was absolute and Harry couldn’t see anything for a terrifying moment before the shadows disappeared.

Harry fell back against the wall. Morty had vanished as quickly and quietly as he had appeared.

A god had just visited him. A real, powerful god with control over the darkness, shadows… and cloaks for some reason.

Chapter Text

McGonagall met the entourage in the enormous stone antechamber in front of the Great Hall.

Percy oohed at the massive chamber. Hogwarts matched up to its reputation. The ceiling was far away enough that details of its architecture could not be properly appreciated. The foyer was vast enough to conduct its own orchestral echo. The giant pillars, torch brackets, and statues were carved into the walls, everything planned from start to finish.

Sally tried to not look so impressed. She was angry. She would offer no compliments.

McIntyre shook McGonagall’s hand.

“Ms. Jackson has insisted on picking up her charge and heading back to the States while the issue is addressed,” he told the professor.

“Are you aware of the tournament’s requirements, though?” McGonagall asked.

Remus and Arthur waited to see what Sally would do. They were determined not to give away too much with their expressions.

Sally folded her arms and didn’t say a word. She had decided to not speak and let the lawyer do all the talking. She figured that was the best way to remain diplomatic despite the situation.

“Yes,” McIntyre told her. “But we also know that the First task is not due until the 24th of November. We have a little more than three weeks to double check the paperwork and see how irrevocable the words really are.”

McGonagall exhaled. “Very well. I will not stop you from taking Harry back to Manhattan. But there’s a matter of finding the boy first.”

Sally glowered.

“Yes, we heard that he ran away,” McIntyre said, now a little worried. “Professor, I assume there’s a search party underway.”

“Yes, of course!” McGonagall assured her. “The staff and ghosts are looking for him as we speak. The Headmaster himself is checking the grounds and the Forbidden Forest. We will find him.”

Remus interjected, “If he ran away last night, it’s possible he found somewhere to sleep. He’ll need to eat soon. Have you been to the kitchens?”

“We checked with the elves a few hours ago,” McGonagall said. “They didn’t have any information. But we’ll ask again. Dobby!”

Dobby the elf appeared from thin air, amid a loud crack of noise.

Sally jumped. Percy babbled and draped himself over the side to get a close look at the elf.

“Deputy Headmistress called,” Dobby said, bowing to her.

“I did. I know you are close with Harry Potter. Have you seen the boy any time today?”

Dobby’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. His ears wiggled and he looked so guilty, there was no point in lying.

“Yes,” Dobby said, fidgeting. “Dobby is seeing Harry Potter. Harry Potter was sad and hungry so Dobby is feeding him in the kitchens.”

Sally clutched Percy’s chest to pin him to the carrier. She sighed in relief. “Is he still there, Mr. Dobby?”

The elf faltered. “Ah, Miss need not use honorifics.”

“We’re hardly on first-name basis,” Sally remarked. “But is Harry okay?”

“When Dobby is checking, yes! He is sitting with Winky, being a good friend to her, yes,” Dobby nodded eagerly.

McGonagall was surprised. “Did he only just arrive?”

“Half an hour ago, Deputy Headmistress!”

“Why did you not inform us?” she barked.

Dobby blinked his large eyes. “Harry Potter asked not to.”

She sighed irritably. “We are worried about him, Dobby. Will you please fetch him?”

“Dobby cannot,” he said. “Harry Potter left when Dobby went to see again.”

Sally hid a smile. She was annoyed, yes. But she was hoping Harry had seen her name on the Marauders’ Map and was making his way down.

“Dobby,” McGonagall said, breathing evenly. “Will you kindly check the places he might visit?”

Dobby bowed. “At once, Madam!”

He disapparated and McGonagall began to apologise when the doors to the castle burst open.

Sally scowled at the uncouth entrance. She recognised the man from the papers.

“This is a wonderful surprise!” Fudge announced, already sweating through his collar.

He swooped down and caught Sally’s hand, shaking it thoroughly.

“When I heard you were arriving in the country, I came here at once, Ms. Jackson!” Fudge said, smiling brightly. “I’m afraid I did receive your message. I believe there has been a serious miscommunication. But the fact remains that Harry’s name came out of the goblet. We have our hands tied here!”

Sally bit the inside of her cheek to avoid glaring at him. She gestured to McIntyre who stepped forwards with a hand outstretched.

“Minister Fudge!” he spoke jovially. “I am Barrister McIntyre of London, I will be speaking on behalf of Ms. Jackson today. We certainly hope you are right about the miscommunication. We are simply here to pick up Harry for now.”

“What?!” Fudge cried. “You cannot! He’s bound to the tournament.”

“The tournament, yes,” McIntyre said. “The school, no. Cedric Diggory was named under Hogwarts. The goblet accepts only one name per school. So Harry’s name isn’t actually attached to Hogwarts. It can’t be. I am here to triple-check the contract and look at the written conditions. He doesn’t even have to be at the castle except for the days he has to compete in the tasks.”

McGonagall grimaced. Fudge was less composed.

“But you can’t take Harry Potter out of Hogwarts!” Fudge exclaimed.

“My sincere apologies, Minister,” McGonagall said. “But Ms. Jackson can do so. Mr. McIntyre is correct in his assessment. Professor Moody has also guessed that Potter’s name was added under the heading of a fictional school. The Headmaster believes it to be true. Potter is not bound to the castle. It’s his choice to be here.”

“He doesn’t want to leave!” Fudge cried.

Percy kicked his pudgy legs, excited by the rising tempo of voices. Sally wondered when they would all be treated to an accompanying shriek from his powerful lungs.

A loud bell rang through the castle. It echoed down the halls and made itself known to everyone in the school. Distantly, they heard the noises of students walking around the halls, presumably heading to the Great Hall for lunch.

“Shall we continue in one of the classrooms?” Arthur spoke quietly.

Fudge’s eyes snapped to the man. He glared but Arthur didn’t say anything else.

“Yes, let’s,” McGonagall agreed and they stepped inside the closest room and closed the door from prying eyes.

Harry packed his trunk. He changed his clothes. He brushed his hair.

He levitated his stuff and left the Gryffindor Tower.

Hedwig flew down to find a perch on his shoulders. He was glad for her presence. It made it all the more easier to walk through throngs of gawking students.

“Hey, Potter!” someone yelled. “You running?”

“He can’t leave! He has to compete!”

“Bit off more than you can chew, huh?”

Harry gritted his teeth. Hedwig hooted in a low tone and he exhaled.

They have no hold over me.

He stood out in his Muggle clothes, plus his floating trunk and cage. But he had always stood out, so this didn’t mean much.

“Are you actually running?” Ernie MacMillian gawked from a group of Hufflepuffs who was watching him.

“Yes,” Harry said shortly.

“What!” Cormac McLaggen cried. “But what about the tournament?”

Harry shrugged. He recalled Morty doing the same thing and smiled.

I’m the Boy-Who-Lived. My power exceeds theirs.

“Harry?” Ginny called.

He paused at the top of the stairs.

“Are you okay?” she asked, frowning.

“Yes,” he said. “Bye, Ginny.”

She didn’t stop him and he was thankful for it. Harry continued down several flights of staircases, now keenly aware that people were following him. Their voices grew louder.

Hedwig fidgeted. Harry brushed her belly feathers gently and she relaxed. Her talons gripped his shoulder tightly and he was pleased about the firm hold.

“You can’t escape this, Potter!” Draco Malfoy shouted from across the hall.

Harry smiled to himself.

“If you didn’t want to be called out, you shouldn’t have put your name in the goblet!” Malfoy continued. Everyone began to mutter louder.

If you do not wish to compete, then don’t.

Harry ignored the taunts.

“I’m talking to you, Potter!”

Keep yapping, Harry thought. Your words don’t hurt me anymore.

He had no trouble believing Morty had been a god. There was a new energy in Harry’s bones. He felt like Sally, the way she could raise her head and face any problem with a smile on her face. He felt powerful.

It occurred to him that most students were heading to the Great Hall and probably not just following him. He didn’t mind. Whether or not Sally was at the entrance, he would wait there for her. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Harry hadn’t done anything wrong.

Ron and Hermione were in the antechamber. Harry gritted his teeth and hoped to walk past them.

“Harry!” Hermione squealed. She threw her arms around him and Hedwig squawked, flying over to the trunk.

Harry sighed and squeezed her briefly before dislodging her grip.

“You’re leaving?” she said in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’ll write to you.”

“What! But what about the tournament?” she asked worriedly. “I’ve been reading all sorts of news about it from the previous centuries. The contract is a beast! You can’t escape it. Your name confirms your participation and it’s as bad as a blood pact!”

Harry glanced over at Ron who looked away, pained. His ears were a glowing red and Harry felt the same way.

“I didn’t put my name in it, though,” Harry told Hermione.

“Oh, bull!” Malfoy huffed as the Slytherins walked past them. “Potter, just admit that you didn’t realise what you were doing.”

Harry didn’t dignify him with a response.

“Sally’s picking me up,” he told Hermione.

“Now?” she blurted. “But… but where were you all night?”

“Sleeping,” Harry said.

Hermione didn’t know what to say for a moment. Then she seemed to remember something and caught Ron’s arm. She pulled him forwards and hissed, “Say it!”

Ron cleared his throat and mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Properly,” Hermione insisted.

Ron inhaled. “I’m sorry for going off on you. I wasn’t thinking straight. I know you didn’t put your name in. I was just mad.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Okay. I need to go.”

Hermione hit Ron’s side with her elbow. A few students snickered.

“Ow! Yeah, I’m really sorry!”

“You already said it,” Harry told him. “My leaving has nothing to do with you.”

“Doesn’t it?” Ron asked, surprised.

Harry shook his head. “This is the fourth time my life is getting screwed over. I never had a normal year at Hogwarts and I guess I’m not going to get one. I need to get used to it. It’ll help to think if I’m away for a while.”

Hermione frowned. “Harry, but the contract?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Harry shrugged.

Ron frowned. “You’ve always stuck here, though. Even when things got bonkers.”

Annoyance rose quickly at Ron’s words. “Yeah, well, I didn’t really have a choice, did I? It was Hogwarts or the Dursleys. It’s different now.”

Hermione’s eyes watered. “Was that the only reason? You stayed because of your aunt and uncle?”

Harry sighed. “Sorry. I would have missed you too, Hermione… and you, Ron.”

Ron gulped. “Harry, I’m really—”

The door of one of the classrooms opened and Sally stood there, stunned by the sight of hundreds of students milling in the antechamber and the entrance of the Great Hall.

The first to see the trio was Percy.

“AWWEE!” he exploded and kicked himself out of the baby carrier. Sally shrieked and Remus darted at lightning speed to catch the baby before he hit the ground.

Percy burst into wild tears and Harry ran to pluck him from Remus’s shaking hands.

“You’re such a demon!” Harry cooed, bouncing the baby and patting his back. Percy clutched the front of his tee and sobbed loudly.

“Oof!” Sally groaned, massaging her belly and scowling at her spawn. “No one ever told me babies kick you even after the birth.”

“Occupational hazard,” Arthur said, chuckled.

Ron was stunned. “Dad?”

“Professor Lupin!” Hermione called.

Her voice was not quiet. Several students were gawking at the show. Many of them waved at Remus who shyly waved back. A few stumbled away, running back up the stairs in fright.

Harry kissed Percy’s cheek and the baby calmed down.

“Are we leaving now?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Yes!” Sally said.

“No!” Fudge argued.

The look she gave him was far from diplomatic.

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall called from further in the room. “Would you like to tell us where you were?”

Harry deliberated. “Er, no. Sorry, Professor.”

Fudge glared at him. “Do you believe that you can start a fire and run from the flames? We were all witnesses to the act, Mr. Potter! Your name came out of the goblet—”

“Minister, shall we discuss this inside?” McIntyre asked, raising his voice.

“Yes!” Fudge agreed.

“No,” Sally said. “We’re leaving at once. Finn, can stay behind.”

“Of course,” McIntyre said readily.

Harry was ready to grab Sally and bolt. He had a scream building in his chest and his previous bravado seemed to have disappeared especially with Fudge glaring down at him.

It didn’t help when the doors to the castle opened and everyone fell into hushed silence.

Harry had never seen the headmaster look so… what was the word? Frustrated? Disturbed? Both?

“Harry,” Dumbledore spoke quietly. “You gave us all a fright.”

Harry winced at the disappointment in his voice. “I’m s—”

“Gi-Gi!” Percy squealed, making everyone jump. He kicked his little feet and Harry held him tighter before the infant could dislodge from his grip.

Ginny was at the bottom of the stairs, having tried and failed at hiding from Percy.

Dumbledore took the moment to address Fudge and Sally.

“May I invite both of you to my office? We can have a proper discussion there.”

“Yes!” Fudge cried.

“No,” Sally refuted him. “We’ll talk here. Harry, wait for us. It won’t take more than a few minutes.”

Harry nodded, relieved. Sally stormed back into the room and McIntyre held the door open for both the minister and headmaster who followed her, unaware of what they were walking into.

Sally sat down on a front desk. Remus and Arthur sat to the side, close to the door.

Dumbledore brought the teacher’s chair forward and made himself comfortable. Fudge and McIntyre chose to stand.

“Let me introduce myself,” McIntyre began. “I am Finn McIntyre of the London branch. I am Ms. Jackson’s lawyer will speak on behalf of her during this discussion.”

Fudge was frustrated. “Ms. Jackson, I was hoping to talk about the misunderstanding we seem to be in.”

“Yes, she believes there has been some gaps in our knowledge,” the lawyer said. “However, it is in everyone’s best interest that Ms. Jackson and her team of lawyers are made aware of the contents of the contract before we sit down for a legitimate conversation.”

“That’s not possible,” Fudge insisted. “The contract cannot be made public.”

Sally scowled.

McIntyre frowned, “I am aware of that. But how is it relevant to us? Ms. Jackson’s ward was named by the goblet. She is privy to the contract as am I.”

Fudge sent Dumbledore a pleading look.

“I agree with you, Ms. Jackson and Mr. McIntyre,” Dumbledore said and Fudge let out a noise of horror. “But I would like to ask why you intend on removing Harry from the castle.”

“Simply put, Headmaster,” the lawyer spoke quietly, “the castle is not safe.”

“Name a place safer for Harry Potter!” Fudge spluttered.

Sally frowned at him.

“I meant to say that someone put Mr. Potter’s name in the Goblet of Fire,” McIntyre said. “Clearly the castle has at least one person who means him some harm.”

Sally folded her arms and glared at the minister daring him to call Harry a liar. She had some choice words prepared for that!

Fudge seemed to realise she was not in a harmonious mood and quickly changed tracks. “You can’t take Mr. Potter from his education.”

“Minister Fudge, I see your point,” McIntyre said calmly. “But will any child be able to focus on their studies, knowing that they are forced to compete in a deadly tournament? The first task is less than a month away. I’m sure the other champions are receiving all the advice and training they need to be prepared. Mr. Potter will fare better when he’s away from a demanding environment where he’s made to put aside the fact that he has to do something he never volunteered for.”

Dumbledore was quiet.

Fudge remarked. “But he can be trained! He can use up the next few weeks to practice everything needed!”

“We don’t know what the tasks are,” McIntyre reminded him. “What is he meant to learn? New spells? Defensive charms? Protection shields? Runes? Ms. Jackson has not made this decision lightly. Owing to the circumstances of the previous years, it is logical to get him away from a place that has seen basilisks and dementors!”

Fudge pointed at him. “There was no evidence of a basilisk!”

“Cornelius,” Dumbledore spoke. “I vouched for the students at the time. There is no other creature other than a basilisk that can petrify someone when they look at the reflection of its eyes. Let that be.”

Fudge swallowed. “Very well… but, Albus. Surely, you will not allow Potter to leave.”

“Any parent and guardian are allowed to take their child back home. Hogwarts is not a compulsory education. But, Ms. Jackson, I wish to implore the urgency of the situation. Harry will truly be safer here under the watchful eye of his teachers and surrounded by his friends.”

McIntyre turned back to silently ask Sally. She shook her head.

“I’m afraid we do not see that way, Headmaster,” the lawyer intoned. “The events of last year speak for themselves. Mr. Harry Potter and Ms. Hermione Granger were more in danger from the dementors than they were of Sirius Black. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Potter’s remarkable prowess with the Patronus charm, both students would not be here.”

“It was an unfortunate set of circumstances,” Fudge said, perspiring. “But I assure you the dementor guards, though inhuman, were thoroughly vetted.”

Sally dropped her hands, letting them smack on the wooden desk.

“Vetted?” she whispered.

She leaped to her feet. NEVER had she felt so enraged in all her life!

“Vetted?!” she demanded.

“Ms. Jackson, I only meant to say—”

“WHAT D’YOU MEAN THE DEMENTORS WERE VETTED?!” she shouted. “THEY NEARLY SUCKED OUT HIS SOUL!”

“But they didn’t!” Fudge said meekly. “Harry’s fine.”

“HE HAD TO SAVE HIMSELF! HE’S ALWAYS HAD TO SAVE HIMSELF!” Sally roared.

With every defense Fudge tried to offer, Sally began shouting him down.

Chapter Text

The door closed and the students came back to life. Murmurs surrounded Harry but he didn’t care right now. Percy was grinning up at him, showing off his new teeth.

“Look at that,” Harry chuckled. “You’ve been biting your carrier, haven’t you? Is that how you keep tearing through it?”

Percy smiled angelically.

Ginny approached them. So did Hermione. Ron slouched closer but hung back, turning away.

“He’s already so much bigger,” Ginny said in awe.

“I know,” Harry sighed.

Percy hid his face in Harry’s chest and then popped up grinning wildly at Ginny.

“BOO!” Percy yelled.

“Ack!” she squawked, grinning. “Don’t scare me like that, kid!”

She held out her arms and Percy, thankfully, didn’t kick Harry as he leaned for her.

“Will you be back for the first task?” Hermione asked quietly.

Harry shrugged. “I didn’t put my name in the goblet.”

“But… your name still came out of it.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Harry said, as nonchalantly as possible.

Hermione wasn’t convinced. She kept asking why he thought that and Harry knew he shouldn’t tell her or anyone else (except for Sally) about Morty.

“Leave it,” Ron muttered when Hermione grew annoyed.

“But is that why McIntyre’s here?” she persisted. “To check the contract?”

“Or to get me out,” Harry said.

Some of the students went into the Great Hall for lunch. A few lingered, waiting to see what would happen.

“Who’s a sweet boy?” Ginny gushed, rubbing her nose against Percy’s. “Who’s a good boy?”

“He’s not a dog, Gin,” Fred said, arriving with his brother.

“Yeah, he’s a sprog,” George added, waving his fingers at a confused Percy.

“What’s the verdict?” Fred asked, slapping Harry’s back.

“I’m going to be leaving the castle,” Harry said, rubbing his back. “Might be back on the 24th, or might not.”

Hermione pointed at him in victory, “Ha! So you are competing?!”

“Of course he has to!” Malfoy shouted.

Harry and the others scowled at him.

The Slytherins and Ravenclaws sniggered as Malfoy sauntered over. “I cannot believe you dragged your Muggle friend here to get you out of Hogwarts!”

Harry glared. “Sod off, Malfoy! Don’t you have better things to do than think about me the whole day?”

Fred and George laughed.

Malfoy glared. “I’m not the one causing a fuss every year! Ever since you got here, you’ve been turning the castle upside down! And then you go around and blame everyone else!”

“Watch it!” Ron snapped.

Harry’s hands shook from the scream that was growing deep in his chest.

“You wanna say that again?” he hissed.

“What’re you going to do about it?” Malfoy smirked. “Hide behind your Mugg—”

Percy blew a raspberry at him.

Malfoy looked disgusted. “I’m surprised that runt even managed to get inside the castle. What did you do, Potter, threaten Dumbledore?”

Before Harry could grab him, the murmuring in the chamber was directed at Percy. Until now, most of their eyes had slid over him to focus on Harry and Sally.

“Ooh,” Lavender squealed, rushing over to them. “Is that your baby brother, Harry?”

Percy stared up at her, blinking his big blue-green eyes, and Lavender melted. Even Ginny was surprised by the change in attention.

“Nephew,” Harry told her, his heart racing. “His name is Percy.”

“So cute!” Lavender pinched his cheek.

Percy giggled.

In an instant, a group of students surrounded him and Ginny, cooing at him. Harry raised his eyebrows when he saw several students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang greeting the baby happily.

“He has green eyes too,” Alicia gasped.

“Yeah,” Harry said awkwardly. “Probably from my Mum’s side of the family.”

“Awww!” the girls went and Percy basked in their attention.

A shout erupted from the classroom and everyone paused, staring at the closed door in horror.

“WHAT D’YOU MEAN THE DEMENTORS WERE VETTED?!” Sally’s shriek echoed. “THEY NEARLY SUCKED OUT HIS SOUL!”

Fudge’s quiet voice was instantly cut down.

“HE HAD TO SAVE HIMSELF! HE’S ALWAYS HAD TO SAVE HIMSELF!” Sally roared.

Ooh, boy. That’s the kind of conversation they were having, huh?

“DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO JUSTIFY IT! THROUGH YOUR ENTIRE SPEECH, I HEARD NO APOLOGY! I UNDERSTAND PERFECTLY WELL WHERE YOUR STANDARDS ARE! THE BAR IS SO LOW, IT’S SIX FEET UNDER!”

Many of the students gasped. Ron was torn between choking and laughing. Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth.

“THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON SINCE DAY ONE! IF YOUR VETTING’S SO GOOD, WHY WAS QUIRRELL HIRED IN THE FIRST PLACE?!”

“Where’s the popcorn when you need it?” Fred whispered.

“Think we can nip down to the kitchens and be back in time?” George wondered.

Percy gnawed on his fingers, looking around curiously.

“Mama?” he called.

“Your Mum’s a little busy,” Ginny whispered.

“ARE YOU GONNA USE THAT EXCUSE WITH LOCKHART? HE TRIED TO CURSE HARRY AND RON!”

Ron went red. He and Harry glanced at each other before looking away.

“AND HOW DID A BUNCH OF TWELVE-YEAR-OLDS FIGURE OUT A 1000-YEAR-OLD SECRET THAT NO TEACHER OR OCTOGENARIAN COULD?!”

Malfoy’s jaw dropped. Harry stared, wide-eyed.

Angelina bit back a nervous laugh. “I think Dumbledore’s older than that.”

A second passed where it sounded like someone was murmuring. And then…

“DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THE WORLD CUP!!!”

Harry exhaled, trying to calm himself. It was nice that Sally was arguing on his behalf. But now, he just wanted to go home. He’d had enough of people pointing and staring.

Seamus turned to him. “Are you really leaving?”

Harry nodded.

Parvati frowned. “Why?”

“Someone put my name in the goblet,” Harry said, now tired of saying it. “I don’t know who. So my cousin’s here to bring me home.”

“Really?” Justin Finch-Fletchley asked. “Why?”

“What would you do if your name came out of the goblet?” Harry said, exasperated. “Wouldn’t you think it was bonkers?”

Padma narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t put your name in?”

Parvati hushed her. “He says he didn’t, Padma!”

“I didn’t,” Harry said blandly.

“See?”

“I heard Flitwick say only someone really powerful could get past Dumbledore’s age line,” Susan Bones pointed out.

“Yeah?” Harry said, confused. That was obvious. But why did they…

Huh.

Did people think he was powerful?

“I heard you dropped Divination and took up Ancient Runes,” McLaggen said loftily.

Harry folded his arms. “Yeah, so?”

“Why’d you do that?”

“I don’t like Divination.”

“But Ancient Runes?”

“It’s interesting,” Harry said.

“What McLaggen is trying to get at,” George rolled his eyes, “is that someone can use runic spells to get past boundaries undetected.”

“That’s a good point,” Fred hummed. “Of course, everyone knows that a handful of fourth-year Ancient Runes classes can thwart our octogenarian headmaster.”

“Yeah, especially if this person didn’t take third-year Ancient Runes,” Ginny added.

“Yeah, and only if the bloke is speccy, gangly, and a glasses-wearing dweeb who never tried out any spell till he got his letter.” George nodded solemnly.

People chortled around McLaggen who flushed at the comments.

“Thanks for that glowing endorsement,” Harry muttered.

“Hey, we’re on your side,” Fred said, raising his palms.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Awwee,” Percy called, now turning away from the gaggle of admirers and Ginny.

Harry took him back in his arms and Percy yawned. Half the room cooed.

“You’re still running,” Malfoy suddenly said.

Hermione and Ron scowled at him. Ginny, Fred, and George exchanged calculating glances.

“Don’t miss me too much, Malfoy,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“Mark my words,” the Slytherin warned. “You’ll be back on the 24th. I wonder what the first task will be.”

“Maybe a hippogriff, so hopefully, you’ll be the one running,” Hermione muttered.

Harry grinned. He bounced Percy in his arms and pointed at Malfoy, letting the baby finally notice him.

“This is Git,” Harry said and the others began snorting. “Can you say Git?”

Malfoy’s face soured. “Real mature, Potter.”

“Git!” Percy announced, grinning widely.

Malfoy hissed. He thrust his arm into his pocket. “You know what!”

Harry turned, shielding Percy, and moving to grab his wand. Everyone scattered, but nothing else happened because they were, yet again, interrupted.

“WHAT?” someone else boomed and they all jumped.

“What is it you’d like to educate us on, Mister Malfoy?” Moody snapped, hobbling over to them. The students parted eagerly to let him through.

Malfoy gulped. “Er… nothing, Professor.”

The man glowered down on him and Malfoy went as pale as his hair.

“You wanna end arguments with duels, you might as well pack up and leave,” Moody growled. “That’s not how we handle things in the civilised world.”

It was a bit rich coming from Moody, who was famed for attacking first and coming up with questions later. But maybe McGonagall’s words had stuck with the man after he’d turned Malfoy into a ferret.

Malfoy nodded frantically, obviously recalling that wonderful moment.

Percy gleefully moved to grab Moody’s electric blue eye that swivelled over to watch the baby. Harry pulled him back, smiling nervously.

“Everyone head to lunch!” the professor barked.

More than half the crowd scrambled to listen, rushing into the Great Hall. A few people lingered in the corners, still curious. The Weasleys glared at Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins who backed away.

“Professor,” Hermione whispered. “What are your thoughts on the legalities of the tournament contract?”

Moody observed her closely. “I haven’t read the full thing. But from what I hear, it accepts a champion’s name as the thing that seals the deal.”

“Even if the person didn’t put their own name in?” Harry asked, trying not to sound too desperate. Morty had told him it wasn’t binding. Could the god have been lying?

No, he hadn’t lied, Harry decided.

“I suppose that’s why your lawyer’s here,” Moody huffed. “We’ll see what happens.”

“Blfghrr!” Percy spluttered, trying to reach for the man’s fake eye again.

Harry watched as Moody’s magical eye whizzed around, staring through the door of the classroom, changing directions to watch the students in the Great Hall, before coming back to observe Percy.

Then the bright blue eye flickered down and stared at the tiny trainers and socks the baby wore.

Harry’s heart thudded. Moody could see the pendant.

“Take care, Potter,” Moody said gruffly and hobbled away, heading for the Great Hall.

The students were leaning over their tables and watching them through the open doors. Malfoy sneered at him and Harry flipped him off. The muttering in the hall grew louder.

“Maybe the lawyer will find a loophole,” George figured.

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry sighed.

Sally’s voice emerged from the room again, less of a shout, more of a warning.

“Unlike you, I’m not interested in watching teenagers risk their lives for entertainment. I don’t care if it’s football or a burning goblet. Your government decided that fourteen deaths were inconsequential! That’s fourteen too many for my family and I.”

The door finally opened. A few students backed away as Sally walked out, brushing back dark strands that had strayed from her braid. Her keen blue eyes glossed over the crowd and found her boys.

“Have you said your good-byes, Harry?” she asked sweetly, like she hadn’t been yelling at two powerful wizards just seconds earlier.

“Yes,” Harry said.

He passed a talkative Percy over to Sally who buckled him into the baby carrier. Harry mouthed goodbye to his friends and followed her out of the castle, Hedwig, his trunk, and cage trailing after them. 

“Bye bye, Percy,” Ginny said, waving to the baby.

“Buh buh, Gi-Gi,” Percy smiled, waving.

Then he waved to Malfoy, still watching them from the hall, “Buh buh, Git!”

If anything, that made Harry’s day.

“She can’t do this,” Fudge complained.

Dumbledore and McGonagall refrained from overtly refuting him. The Minister had been in a panic ever since Sally had left with her charge publicly denouncing the Triwizard Tournament. By now, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would have heard of Harry Potter pulling out of the competition and new rumours would float about.

Rumours that suggested Harry had not put his name in the Goblet of Fire.

Not for the first time, Dumbledore found himself ruminating how the Dursleys could so easily hand Harry over to a relative who lived so far away. Despite having a child of her own, she was determined to be fully involved in Harry’s life in Scotland. Surely, Sally must have employed some amount of persuasion and her quickly-growing infamous rage that the students were chattering about.

Petunia wasn’t one to bow to most kinds of anger, so Sally’s outburst must have been truly spectacular.

The Headmaster wondered if Harry was ever afraid of her. Then he dismissed that thought. Harry had been more than happy to walk away from Hogwarts, the place he used to call home, with this woman he’d known for a year. Less than that since he was at school nine months at a stretch.

“Albus,” Fudge wheedled. “We must stop her before it gets out of hand!”

McGonagall rapped on the table hard. She was seated in her chair in the most uncomfortable position with her back ramrod straight and her lips pursed.

“It has gotten out of hand,” she spoke distinctly. “Harry was at the World Cup during the Dark Mark incident. That can scare the wits of any capable Auror, much less a student and a Muggle. And now, his name comes out of the Goblet? Unless we can give her acceptable answers, Ms. Jackson can remove him from the castle as she sees fit.”

“And put him where?” Fudge demanded. “This is Harry Potter we’re talking about. His parents studied at Hogwarts. They gave their lives for this country! They wouldn’t want him to flounce off across the pond with a single mother and a cantankerous baby!”

McGonagall did not take that well. She rose to her feet, her noticeable height towering over Fudge.

“Please watch your tone, Minister,” she warned. “I have been in correspondence with Mr. Potter’s guardian for all of last year. She cares about his safety and happiness. Her decisions, however unseemly to you, are made of love. I would implore you to consider your next words carefully. The more you lambast her, the lower are our chances of reassuring both Ms. Jackson and Mr. Potter that Hogwarts is safe enough.”

“But Hogwarts is safe!”

“Then why is Harry Potter a tournament choice?”

“Because he put his name in the Goblet!”

“Many students put their names in. All of them were seventeen and older. How did Mr. Potter get past the age line?”

“He must have asked an older student!”

“You heard the lawyer,” McGonagall stated, now curling her lips. “Prove it. If you can give conclusive evidence that Mr. Potter orchestrated this event, then that might change Ms. Jackson’s mind. Because I can warn you right now, Minister Fudge, that she is collecting her own proof.”

Fudge stood there, thunderstruck. “Proof of what?!”

“That Harry Potter is being targeted,” Dumbledore murmured.

“Wha… that’s… pffh! That’s ridiculous!”

“But not impossible,” Dumbledore noted, sitting up now. “You cannot tell me that, Cornelius. Not after last year when, despite a country-wide manhunt, Sirius Black still managed to get inside Hogwarts more than once. The dementors only made the situation worse. Ms. Jackson has not forgotten that.”

Fudge spluttered, his face going red. “Then what does she expect us to do?!”

Dumbledore and McGonagall shared a look. Us. At least the Minister still assumed they were on his side.

“Gather the evidence,” Dumbledore said. “Prove to her that your point-of-view is concise and the best option for them. Sally Jackson will not be swayed by words alone. She needs actions and documentation to show that Harry is responsible for this and that Hogwarts is safe enough for him.”

The double-edged sword to this demand was that Fudge might fabricate evidence. Dumbledore would have to disagree with him on that plan of action. Anyone who could persuade Petunia Dursley to give up her strongest asset was a force to be reckoned with.

Dumbledore might not know the full extent of Sally Jackson’s reach, but he was not willing to find out at his own peril.

Chapter Text

One week back in New York, and Harry was already spoiled.

He was now used to the comfort of the apartment, enjoying Sally’s cooking, playing with Percy, spending a few hours on his books (because Sally wouldn’t let him stop his studies, death game be damned), and roaming around their building. On this cloudy November day, where the chill of winter was offset by the warm sea breeze, he was at a nearby grocery store with Percy, shopping for their weekly food.

“What do you say, Percy?” Harry asked. “Jolly Ranchers or Toblerones?”

“Boo,” Percy said from his perch in the shopping cart.

“Blue jolly ranchers?” Harry perused the packets. “They’re out of blue, kiddo.”

“Boo!” Percy insisted.

“It doesn’t really matter, you don’t have enough teeth or strength to bite into any of the candy here.”

Percy stuck out his bottom lip.

“No, don’t do that,” Harry said, wagging his finger at him. The baby grabbed his arm and grinned happily.

“I can get you a lollipop,” Harry figured. “You wouldn’t accidentally swallow that, would you?”

“No,” Percy said.

Harry grinned. It was moments like this that made him feel that the baby really understood everything he said. Sally had told him to speak to Percy as much as possible, not needing to baby-talk him (though, Harry was sometimes tempted).

“You’re lucky Sally’s allowed you some sugar now,” Harry said. “Let’s just get you a chocolate bar.”

“Ya!” Percy cheered.

“Okay, you definitely know what I’m saying,” Harry sighed.

He grabbed a small bar for Percy and tossed it into the cart. The baby protested.

“Why’re you filing a complaint when you already have a biscuit box with you?” Harry said, pointing to the very package that sat on Percy’s lap.

The baby looked down confused, as though he hadn’t been playing with it for five whole minutes until they’d stopped at the candy rack. He grabbed it and shook the box like a rattler.

Harry pushed the cart towards another aisle when an older woman spoke, “He’s such a cutie!”

Harry appraised her. She wore a formal shirt tucked into her skirt, with heels that Muggle women wore while at the office. Her hair was bright yellow, perfectly curled, and her pale face was done very well, he thought. She blinked at him, smiling wide and Harry smiled back.

“Yes, thanks,” he said.

“How old is he?” she asked.

Breathe, Harry. Breathe.

The pendant on Percy’s leg had worked perfectly for months. Nobody knew he was around unless Sally or Harry introduced him to them. Or if the baby drew attention to himself like when Percy had called out to Ginny at Hogwarts, and then caught everyone else’s awareness as well.

This lady reached out to Harry without any prompting. She saw Percy for what he was.

“Hawee.”

The exit was behind her. Could she run in heels? Harry’s trainers were better suited for the moped tiles of the mart.

What would Sally do?

“Hawee!”

No, Harry thought. She was at home, replying to letters practically all day to help sort out Harry’s situation. He had to figure this out himself.

Harry had his wand on him. He ran through a list of spells and curses that could be enough to distract a mythical monster.

“Hawee!” Percy yelled, his voice going high. Harry was startled out of his thoughts. Percy was annoyed and whimpering, making grabby arms towards him. The baby must have been calling him for a while.

“Is he your little brother?” the woman asked, still smiling. Her teeth were too white.

Percy fussed. Harry lifted him out of the cart. The box of biscuits fell to the floor.

“I probably just need to change him,” Harry chuckled nervously.

“Do you have a diaper?” the woman asked and he paused. Right, Harry and Percy had just stepped out to get a few things; a little shopping trip that ought to be normal for both boys.

“The store has a few varieties,” the woman said. “I can show you the right aisle.”

She was smiling that odd, too-white-too-wide smile again.

“I saw it myself, I’ll go get… actually, can you keep an eye on my cart?”

Harry pushed the half-filled shopping cart at her, blocking her route to him and hurried down one of the closest aisles. He heard the cart move abruptly, its wheels squeaking against the clean floor.

Harry ducked behind a newspaper stand, and clutched Percy close.

He held up a finger to his lips and Percy watched, wide-eyed. Miraculously, the baby stayed quiet.

Did he understand? Harry wondered, heart beating fast. Did baby demigods know to be silent when their lives were in danger?

Her heels tapped fast.

Harry covered Percy’s soft head with his palm, and looked back at the path he’d come from. When the sound of heels-on-tiles passed by him, Harry zipped out from his place and ran past the automatic glass doors.

Percy whined softly.

“It’s okay,” Harry whispered, jogging down the lot, already sweating. “You’re okay, Percy.”

“Hawee,” he cried and Harry kissed his head.

He ran down the pavement, nimbly dodging the pedestrians. He dashed all the way back to the apartment.

Nobody followed them. He didn’t see anyone who looked like the woman. No one even glanced at him.

Thankful for not needing to resort to magic, Harry slipped through the doors of their apartment building.

That was just one of the stranger things that began to happen.

Harry noticed birds fly close to the penthouse and kept the windows closed for several hours until they flew away. The balcony was out of bounds now. The fireplace was locked and guarded. The neighbors never realised a baby lived at the Jacksons’ house, so Harry used them as a beacon when things seemed off.

But he didn’t tell Sally about any of this.

“Can you believe this?” Sally groaned, waving a letter at him. “Fudge and Dumbledore want to speak with us. Here. This week. To convince me to send you back.”

Harry peered up from the newspaper. “Did the lawyer get back to us?”

“Not yet,” she sighed. “I’m getting worried. If both Hayes and McIntyre are taking time to decode that contract, there might not be a loophole like we’d hoped.”

Harry thought back to what Morty had said.

Morty… who was a god. Who could help with Percy’s situation…

“They might be double-checking,” Harry whispered, mind whirring. “I think we’re in the clear. The lawyers just need to back everything up with facts.”

Sally nodded, less frantic now. “You’re right. You’re right. I just worry. No. It’s going to be okay.”

Harry went back to the newspaper, eyes flitting over the headlines.

Seven days before the first task was due, Harry was fretting about Percy, Sally worried for Harry, and the world gossiped about Sally. One of these things had to give. If Harry had to choose, he already knew which one he’d pick.

Morty had made his thoughts on the matter clear.

I am not so eager for you to try anything without more training. Killing the basilisk is enough fame for me. I would like you to survive to adulthood, if I’m being honest.

Ravens flew outside the balcony.

But if you choose to compete, by all means, go ahead. You will have my endorsement.

The Empire State Building was far away and Harry imagined omniscient eyes staring at them from high-atop the skyscraper.

Poseidon would keep Percy safe. But Zeus overruled all his siblings.

Another god on their side would help, certainly?

Harry clutched his invisibility cloak to his chest.

“Morty?” he whispered into the darkness. Sally and Percy were asleep after a long day and Harry wondered if sleep evaded him, maybe death would visit.

He did.

Morty was immense, his head brushing the ceiling. Shadows clung to his shoulders, drifting like gossamer curtains around the dark silhouette. Darkness clung to him, soothing Harry and shaping the room around him.

“Harry,” the god greeted him like an old friend.

Harry stood up from the bed and knelt, bowing his head. “If… if I compete in the tournament, what will change?”

Morty chuckled. The room was too dark to see his face but Harry didn’t need to.

“Bold words,” Morty whispered. “Tell me, Harry Potter. What is death to you?”

It was a loaded question. But it didn’t unnerve him for some reason.

“Inevitable,” Harry said, his finger gripping the cloak. “It happens in the middle of life. It takes, not because it’s malicious. Just because it is.”

Morty hummed. “Are you afraid to die?”

Harry grimaced. “I’m afraid of leaving my friends and family behind.”

“That is not what I asked.”

Harry frowned. “But that is what I answered. Death means leaving people in the middle of everything. It hurts them. It scares me to hurt them when I can’t help. Yes. I am afraid to die.”

Morty deliberated carefully.

“You are not afraid of going. But you are afraid of leaving,” he finally said.

Harry didn’t fully understand that. But the god nodded to himself.

“I can claim you as my champion until you are seventeen,” Morty said, his voice rumbling into Harry’s skin, sinking through the flesh and gracing his bones. Harry shuddered. Death was colder than winter.

“You understand me,” Morty announced. “You will embrace my gifts, the cloak, the wand, and the stone. You will work for the death gods, for you come from a land of no single god. Pantheons across the world have their own ideas of death. But you see it from a mortal’s eyes.”

Harry nodded slowly. “I am mortal. Right?”

Morty grinned. His teeth shone white while the rest of him blended with the shadows until Harry could no longer see his outline.

“Your delegates will arrive tomorrow,” Morty’s whisper hung in the cool air. “Tell them you will compete. Show the world why Harry Potter is a name to be remembered.”

It was a pleasant breakfast with Harry and Sally devouring pancakes while Percy strangled his soggy cereal. In the middle of Sally’s speech where she’d invited an American witch named Eulalie Hicks for tea at their house, Harry blurted about Morty’s night visit.

Sally was not pleased.

Harry could no longer hide it from her. He told her about the first time he met the god at Hogwarts and everything Mors had offered just last evening. And his acceptance.

“You,” she hissed, showing real frustration for the first time at him. “You are fourteen! You are a baby!”

Harry spluttered, “I’m a teenager!”

“Why would you do this?!”

“It’s for Percy!”

Sally groaned. “No! No, Percy already has his father looking out for him! Harry, do you realize what you’ve done?!”

“Sal—”

“When one god claims you, everyone notices you! All the gods will know that you are on the scene!” she cried.

Harry winced. “But I’ll be strong enough to keep Percy safe until he grows up. Isn’t that important?”

Sally sucked in a sharp breath. Harry thought for a moment she was about to start yelling. He braced himself for the rage.

Percy threw a fistful of cereal at his mother. It splattered against her face and hair in a display of incredible aim.

“Percy!” Harry blurted. “No throwing food!”

Percy burst into loud wailing.

Sally’s face turned red.

She wiped the baby food off her face as her shoulders dropped. “Oh, gods. Harry could you…?”

Harry lifted the baby from the raised chair and headed to one of the bathrooms.

Percy cried, his tone more obnoxious than actually distressed. Harry patted his back and bounced him. He washed his hands and face in the warm tap water and then pointed the baby at the mirror. It was a new game of theirs, where Harry would uncover the wondrous world of reflections. It never failed to impress Percy who was delighted to see ‘another’ baby in the house.

“You know you don’t have to defend me from your Mum?” Harry muttered. “She’s upset. I did something pretty big and dangerous.”

But I did it for you.

Percy eagerly slapped his wet palms on the mirror, completely ignoring him.

“It’ll be fine,” Harry told himself. “Just a tournament with a small percentage of dying… and I’m only partially afraid of that, so…”

Percy turned his little face up to watch Harry intently now.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Harry promised.

Percy grinned.

By the time he’d dried the baby’s face and walked back to the kitchen, Sally was cleaned up as well. She was picking up bits of the food from the tiles and throwing them in the sink.

“Still hungry?” she asked. Her voice was a little too cheerful.

“Sure,” Harry said. He passed the baby to her and sat down to finish his breakfast.

Sally fed Percy the rest of his cereal. It was slow progress. Harry had to exaggerate his eating motions to get Percy to replicate them and finish his breakfast.

“Go on, you little nuisance,” Sally said, kissing the baby on his head and placing him in his play pen. Percy usually tired himself out in a few minutes by when he’d be ready for his first nap of the day.

Sally sat back at the kitchen island and propped her chin on her hand, leaning forward heavily.

“Well,” she said.

“Well,” Harry sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Sally said.

“I’m sorry I told you like this,” he amended. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

Sally winced. “Harry. I think this is your biggest weakness.”

He chewed on his food blandly.

“It scares me more when I don’t know what’s happening,” Sally explained. “You don’t have to come to me with a solution all the time. You can bring the problem and we can figure out a solution together.”

Her gentle words hit harder than a frying pan with the speed of a bludger. Harry nodded. A lump sat in his throat.

“Gods,” Sally said slowly. Her eyes moved up, staring through the ceiling. “They’re temperamental. They’re powerful. They don’t understand living like us. I don’t know how Morty expects any of this to work. I know Poseidon was kind to me. He liked me.”

“He loves you,” Harry corrected.

Sally raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad. But love, respect, fear, all blur the lines with immortals. I don’t want you to be in a position where you’re stuck in… in servitude.”

Harry clenched his spoon. “It won’t be like that.”

She gazed at him sadly. “I hope you’re right. I pray you’re right. Do you know how to pray to the gods, Harry?”

“Um…”

Sally smiled. Her eyes lingered on his food. “I’ll show you.”

They spent the rest of the morning, making more of the oatmeal and then sacrificing it in the fireplace which burned with real fire now. Sally burned the food to Poseidon, whispering quietly. It was a short prayer, asking him to look over Percy and give him good dreams.

Harry then followed her movements, pouring his bowl of oatmeal into the fireplace and invoking Mors’ name. He wished the god well and asked for direction regarding the tournament.

A strong scent of oatmeal, enriched with dried fruits and nuts wafted into his face. Harry blinked, startled. He’d been expecting smoke.

Your delegates will arrive tomorrow.

The memory was sharp in his head. Mors voice had spoken this last night.

“He said… someone will be coming to the house today,” Harry said, surprised.

Sally stared at the fire warily. “He said this now?”

“He said it last night. I just remembered it now. Delegates, he said.”

Sally chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I suppose that’s who the letters are from. Hicks is the headmistress of Ilvermorny. She’s visiting us at 3 pm today. Perhaps she’ll bring someone with her.”

Harry sat back. “I guess I’m not going to Ilvermorny if I’m competing in the tournament.”

Sally smirked. “Now, now… we haven’t decided yet. I have a feeling I know who these delegates will be. And I know exactly what to say to them.”

Dumbledore doubted Sally Jackson would be in a better mood two weeks after the day she’d pulled Harry from Hogwarts. The fact that Minerva had declined to attend the visit spoke volumes of what she thought of Dumbledore and Fudge’s plan.

“It’s simple,” Fudge insisted as they stood outside the tall apartment building on a busy New York day. Muggles (or rather No-Majes) barely spared them a glance, walking past the immaculately dressed pair.

“Is it?” Dumbledore murmured. His wand hummed a low sound as though Fawkes was singing a lilting tune all the way from Hogwarts.

“She believes we can’t handle Potter’s attitude,” Fudge explained sagely. “We show her that we can, in fact, work with his eccentricities and accommodate their requests. If he wants to join the tournament, by all means, we should let him.”

Dumbledore counted to three before responding. “But Ms. Jackson claims that he did not put his name in the goblet, Cornelius.”

“Yes, yes!” Fudge waved an errant hand. “I shall indulge her point of view for now. The main thing is that we must not lose face with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang! We must show them that we can handle anything that is thrown at us!”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, and Fudge beamed. “But it might be easier said than done.”

Fudge looked crestfallen. “We have compromises in place! We can offer Ms. Jackson some luxuries that even she might not have thought of! It’s a battle of wills, Albus! She might not have magic, but she spoke strong words, audible to the students. All I need to do is to pivot those same words our way.”

Dumbledore decided to simply nod.

“The papers will show her that she is a fool to deny the most valuable child of our world quality education,” Fudge insisted. “And if she is smart, we can convince her that Potter is better off at Hogwarts for another year.”

Dumbledore seriously doubted lambasting Jackson in the newspapers would endear her to the options Fudge would offer her.

They walked in through the doors and waited for the elevator to reach the ground floor. The building was rather fancy with a wide open space from the door to the stairs and the lift.

“It’s about pacing your information, Albus,” Fudge said, mostly to convince himself. “We shall manage. She will see that we have the best course of action for her to accept—”

The elevator doors opened and a witch and a wizard stepped out. The witch seemed almost as old as Dumbledore and the wizard was as portly as Fudge.

Dumbledore practically heard the air being let out of Fudge’s lungs similar to a rude balloon that Peeves might have punctured.

“My, this is a surprise!” Ilvermorny Headmistress Eulalie Hicks announced, smiling sharply at Dumbledore and Fudge. “Albus, in the flesh! And Cornelius, how long has it been?”

“Er…” Fudge mumbled. “Erm… perhaps a few years.”

“Indeed,” Hicks giggled. She gestured to her friend, “This is Professor Marcus Crowley. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts at our school. I managed to convince Ms. Jackson to invite him along!”

Fudge inhaled. “You were visiting Ms. Jackson and Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, Minister,” Crowley said, smiling genially. “Mr. Potter’s favourite subject is DADA. I am quite impressed with the boy’s abilities. No doubt, in regards to your excellent tutoring, Headmaster.”

“Thank you,” Dumbledore said quietly. “But I would be remiss if I did not say that Harry has an innate understanding of defensive magic.”

Hicks smiled. “Precocious, indeed.”

Fudge cleared his throat. “Headmistress Hicks, how nice to see you out and about!”

“So quaint and sweet, Cornelius,” Hicks laughed. “I’m not even as old as Albus!”

Fudge stammered. “Of course not, Ma’am! I would never presume a lady’s age!”

Hicks chuckled. Her soft grey curls shook from the laugh. “I shall perish before you are ever anything but a gentleman, Cornelius. But if I may ask, are you here to see Sally as well?”

Fudge choked on hearing the first-name reference.

“Indeed, we are, Eulalie,” Dumbledore said, inclining his head politely. “We are here to clear some assumptions.”

“That’s marvelous,” Hicks nodded gravely. “I heard about the fourth champion business. This is why Ilvermorny never reached out when you contacted us about the tourney, Minister. We are reluctant to participate in such dangerous games. Quodpot and Quidditch injuries are enough for us. We don’t even entertain football, let alone the Triwizard Tournament!”

“Ah,” was all Fudge said.

Hick grinned. “She will be pleased to have you. Ms. Jackson is a wondrous woman. I consider myself modern, but powerful conversations with No-Majes are quite eye-opening! I can only imagine what Harry Potter will bring to our famed halls of Ilvermorny.”

Fudge laughed nervously. “Surely not? He is still a Hogwarts student, Headmistress. You might wish to covet him for your population, but I must hold on as well!”

“Of course, you must,” Hicks said, smiling demurely. It was not her style. Dumbledore knew she was simply winding him up now.

“Well, we shan’t keep you waiting. Have a good day, Albus and Cornelius!” Hicks nodded and Crowley grinned at them. They walked out of the building, disapparating on the front step right before any No-Majes could spot them.

Fudge was sullen during the elevator ride up.

“Why were they here?” he asked Dumbledore worriedly. “Surely, Jackson isn’t actually thinking of enrolling him in Ilvermorny!”

Dumbledore frowned. “Perhaps.”

Fudge continued to fret. In all honesty, Dumbledore thought Sally Jackson might have invited Hicks to simply scare him and Fudge. But the uncertainty in this idea unsettled him.

Dumbledore rang the doorbell and watched as the woman herself opened the door with a cool gleam in her eye and a smirk to her mouth. The air that blew in through the large apartment windows and out the door, ruffling his beard, was chilly.

Remus Lupin and Attorney Hayes stood from the couch, greeting them. Harry was on the floor mat, holding Percy on his lap, as both boys looked up.

Harry wasn’t worried. The look in his eyes mirrored Sally’s teasing strength. He had already made his decision and it was one that everyone in the room would have no choice but to obey. Sally also seemed confident which would only bode ill for Fudge.

All Dumbledore can say is that Ms. Jackson knew how to play the game.