A loud crack split the air, and James Potter stared at his house for a moment. It was shrouded in shadow, but the gaping hole shone clear as day, piercing his heart like a dagger. “Harry.... Lily!� he shouted, starting to run.

Only the second level was damaged, which was the floor where Harry’s bedroom had been. Panic laced through his mind as he raced through the ground floor to the stairs and up onto the first floor. Here, the damage started to show with paintings knocked off the walls and some pottery fallen and smashed on the floor beside the shelves. Just as if the hallway had been shaken like a snow globe. James stopped dead in an open doorway, looking into the nursery.

It seemed like a nightmare.

Part of the room was almost perfectly intact, with only small bits of wood or shingle lying on the floor, one of them balanced on a corner post of Harry’s cradle. But across from the cradle, a great hole had been blasted off, taking most of the roof over the room with it, and a cold wind flew in, cutting straight through his robes.

He took in the room in only one look, then his eyes settled on a figure lying crumpled on the floor not a foot from the cradle, her hair a bright splash like blood on the wooden floor, her face pale in the moonlight, slack, the locks of hair across her face glaring impossibly red. He wasn’t sure how he got there, but the next thing he knew, he was holding her.

Lily didn’t have a scratch on her, but he had no doubt she was dead. The Killing Curse left no mark. James found himself struck, staring at her, unable to cry. It seemed so unfair after everything they had been through, fighting through the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters for years, growing up with it, and now she died only after they went into hiding.

He gritted his teeth, cursing himself for leaving them alone. Only a few hours, spending some time with Sirius at Lily’s insistence. One night, she said, so he would calm down a little at being cooped up at home. Why hadn’t he just stayed?

A rustling started up in the cradle. James looked up, not daring to hope. A soft cry, slowly growing louder, the desperate, scared cry of a child. He gently lay Lily back on the ground and went to his son’s side, lifting him from the cradle with disbelief. “Harry.... But how...?� Though he asked the question aloud, he pulled his son in close, holding him as the tears of grief and rage finally filled his eyes. After he had reassured himself that Harry was indeed alive and breathing, he started looking him over to make sure he was all right, not at first noticing the mark on his forehead because it didn’t look like a wound. When Harry started crying and his face turned red with distress, the scar stood out white on his forehead. A little lightning bolt which had not been there earlier that evening but was already a scar.

At another sound underneath the crying, he looked up sharply, only to see an old man standing in the doorway, long silver beard down to his belt, his eyes looking gravely over half-moon spectacles. “Professor Dumbledore....� Albus Dumbledore did not seem to hear him. He was looking around the room, his eyes sparkling sadly, taking everything in, lingering on the still form of Lily, then settling finally on Harry. His eyebrows lifted in surprise up toward his pointed lavender hat.

“May I see him, James?� he asked, stepping forward and holding out his arms.

“He’s alive, Professor,� James said, walking to meet him with a crying Harry he now tried to soothe.

Dumbledore smiled slightly, though it somehow made him look more melancholy. “And how fortunate you are to still have each other.� His eyes were caught by the vivid mark on Harry’s head, and he leaned down to look, gently tracing it with a finger. “That must be where....� He nodded to himself. James rocked the boy a little to calm him down, and he turned to cling to James’s shoulder. Dumbledore straightened.

Lily had sacrificed herself.... But they had been protected. Dumbledore himself had suggested the Fidelius Charm. Which meant only one thing to James. Though he was sure Voldemort himself had killed Lily, he would not have been able to find her or Harry alone. Only the Secret Keeper and those he had told could see those protected by a Fidelius Charm, and only the Secret Keeper could reveal this location to a new person. His Secret Keeper had been a Death Eater.

A voice came from a long way off, and James blinked. “What?�

“I think we should go back to headquarters,� Dumbledore repeated softly. “You and Harry will be safe there, and we will find out what happened and where to go from here.�

“Right, sure,� he said, distracted. Peter had been the Secret Keeper. After this, he would not be at the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. His arms tightened around Harry. But he should get Harry someplace safe. His eyes strayed to the still form lying next to the cradle. And Lily.

A few moments later, all four of them were gone, abandoning the house to the unforgiving night. Morning would come with little event that most could see. Those who had worked so hard through the years of the war had more to do, but despite that the news leaked out through the night. By sunrise, owls flew all over the country with rumours that all contained at least a grain of truth.

The Boy Who Lived had brought about the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The eleven-year war had finally come to a close, though none of the gossip contained an explanation. Nevertheless, wizards gathered together in celebrations away from the Muggle eye (though some ignored this rule in honour of the occasion) to lift their glasses to Harry Potter, a name they would not soon forget.

Ten years had passed since that dark, brooding night, and the house the Potters lived in was much changed. Though they still lived in Godric’s Hollow, James had decided not to rebuild their old house. Instead, they lived several blocks away in a smaller house just for the two of them. It was two stories tall and looked deceptively neat from the outside, with all the main living rooms down on the ground floor like the kitchen and sitting room, and three bedrooms up above—one for Harry, one for James, and a guest room.

Many of the rooms were dirty, lacking a “woman’s touch,� as it were. A silver-frosted broomstick lay discarded on the sitting room floor next to the couch, and a Chocolate Frog had leapt to freedom underneath James’s bed only to be forgotten and crawl around until the spell wore off. The mantelpiece was crowded with pictures showing the passage of time, the occupants all waving happily when someone entered a room. Photographs that might all be from one big family, though it was closer to about three in reality despite the fact only two people lived here.

One stood in precedence, however, in the centre of the mantelpiece, all the other photographs moved back out of respect to give it room. A black-and-white young James stood with his arms around the waist of a beautiful woman with long curly hair, both of them smiling down at a stirring bundle in her arms.

Harry Potter, now eleven years old, sat up straight in bed, sniffing. “Dad?� he shouted, feeling for his glasses and putting them on as he got out of bed. A cloud of smoke greeted him when he opened the door, and he coughed. “Dad?� he said again when he had the breath. “What’s going on?�

“Er, nothing!� James shouted from the general direction of the kitchen. “Good morning, Harry!�

Harry scratched his head, further messing up the hair he had inherited from his father, right down to the part in the back that always stuck up, but even though his hair was now much longer than it had been when he was only a year old, the lightning scar on his forehead was still easily visible. His green eyes were his other distinguishing trait, exactly like his mother’s where everything else looked exactly like his father.

He cautiously stepped out in the hallway, covering his mouth and nose with his Snitch-patterned pyjama sleeve, but still coughing. Once he descended the stairs, it became slightly easier to see, since so much smoke had already invaded the upper floor, but he could barely see the outline of the kitchen door. “Are you okay? What happened?� He squinted, his eyes watering.

“I’m fine! Everything’s fine!� The doorbell rang. “Look, someone’s at the door; would you get that?�

Harry shook his head but passed the kitchen by and went to answer the door. Black smoke billowed out when he opened it, causing the pair on the doorstep to back off, coughing.

“What’s going on?�

After blinking the tears out of his eyes, Harry beamed. “Uncle Sirius! Brenna!� Sirius Black and his daughter Brenna stood a few feet away, Sirius currently eyeing the house like he expected it to explode. Though Sirius was actually only James’s best friend, and not actually Harry’s uncle, he had been calling Uncle Sirius that as long as he could remember, and the idea of calling him just “Sirius� seemed a bit strange to him.

Sirius grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him out of the smoke. “Oh. Thanks,� Harry said, though he didn’t really know what he was thanking him for.

“I would say ‘happy birthday,’ but looks like you got a great present already,� he said dryly.

Harry shrugged. “Dad insisted he’s fine. I dunno what happened.�

“You two stay out here where you can breathe; I’ll go rescue James,� he said and pulled out his wand, casting a quick Bubble-Head Charm to protect at least his lungs from the smoke before stepping in and disappearing.

“Hullo, Brenna,� Harry said.

“Morning,� she said, grinning at him. “I love your pyjamas.�

Harry looked down and felt his face heat. “I just got out of bed two minutes ago and was a little distracted by the smell of smoke.�

“Oh, don’t apologize. They look lovely. Happy birthday.� She was three years younger than him and had clearly inherited her father’s lazy good looks and long black hair. Her eyes where a light shade of sapphire, and though she was much smaller than Harry, she had a knowing look about her that Harry blamed on her dad.

“Thanks, Brenna. Really.�

“You’re welcome!�

The smoke suddenly disappeared, and the pair cautiously re-entered, looking around. They caught half of something Sirius was saying as they approached the kitchen, “...can’t believe you didn’t think to just Vanish the smoke, James....�

“I was busy, okay?�

“Harry could’ve choked; he was still asleep—�

“I know. What, are you my mum now?�

“Hullo, Dad,� Harry said loudly as they walked in, stopping the two friends in their tracks. They both had clear bubbles around their heads, distorting their features, but these popped simultaneously.

The kitchen was a wreck, though the smoke and whatever had been causing it was gone. The ceiling over the stove was black with soot, pots and pans were scattered everywhere, and some unrecognizably charred objects were stinking up the room from the trash bin. “What were you doing?� Harry asked.

“Making breakfast?� James said sheepishly. Even his face was blackened, and Harry wasn’t quite sure how his dad could see through his glasses at the moment.

Harry pointed at the black ceiling. “That came from making breakfast?�

“I was trying to do something special for your eleventh birthday,� James said, waving his wand at the cabinet below the sink. The door popped open, and a brush flew up to the ceiling, starting to scrub dryly at the soot. James sighed irritably and carefully directed it to get wet and then start cleaning. A steady drip fell from the brush, forcing James and Sirius to step aside.

“I hope you’re not going to eat that,� Brenna said, pointing at some black lumps still sitting on the counter.

“Brenna....� Sirius ran his fingers through his hair.

James dumped those in the trash too, and then Vanished the whole lot of it. “Let’s just have some toast, shall we?�

“If the toaster’s still working,� Harry muttered, checking the toaster then pulling out some bread.

“Do I want to know what you were trying to make?� Sirius asked James, tossing some pans into the sink so he could sit at the table.

“No.�

Brenna hopped up and down next to Harry. “Did you get your letter yet? Did you?�

“I dunno, Brenna, why don’t you go look?� Harry said, still too tired for his hyperactive almost-cousin. Thinking the house was about to burn down was not a good way to wake up on your birthday. Brenna was too young to notice the reason, though, and zoomed off to check the house for any owl post.

“Doesn’t she remember owls always give you their mail directly?� James asked, sitting down next to Sirius and cleaning off his face and glasses.

“She will eventually. One of these days things will stick. Gets it from her mum,� he added.

“Where is Kiara, anyway?�

Sirius shook his head as James got up to pour out some juice for everyone. “Some deadline or other coming up, can’t get away from her writing, ‘Oh no, dear, you go on ahead, I’ll catch up later.’�

“Will she?� James asked, now pulling out plates for Harry to put toast on. At least he’s helping me a little, thought Harry. What a start to a birthday.

“Your guess is as good as mine. It’ll likely be eleven o’clock tonight, and she’ll suddenly stand up and shout, ‘Harry’s birthday!’ and be very depressed when she realises she missed it.�

“We could call her in the living room,� he offered just as Brenna came back in from searching the house, “if you think she’d get upset over it.�

Sirius shrugged. “She’ll likely say the same thing over again, I expect. She doesn’t like repeating herself, yet she forgets things all the time and nags me for reminding her when she actually does remember. It’s confusing.�

Brenna stopped in front of Harry and crooked a finger at him. “I got a present for you, Harry.�

“What is it?� He put the plates he was holding down on the table and faced her more directly.

“Come here,� she said, still beckoning with her finger. “It’s a secret.�

Sceptical, he leaned toward her, and she made a big show of slowly drawing closer as if to whisper something in his ear, then kissed him on the cheek. “Brenna!� he said, wiping his cheek off. “That’s gross! You’re practically my cousin!�

“Mum said it’s for good luck at school,� she said, rocking back and forth on her toes, grinning. “She said it’ll help you be just like your dad.�

Sirius looked over at James and cracked up. “Just like James....� He clapped his hand on the table. “That’s rich. I would advise not being exactly like your father, Harry. Trust me on this one.�

“Oh, you’re funny, Padfoot,� James said, rolling his eyes.

Brenna glowered at her father, folding her arms. “I meant being in Gryffindor, and doing all those things like I hear in your stories that Uncle James did!�

“Er, well, thank you, Brenna,� Harry said awkwardly. It was kinda sweet, when she explained it. But he still didn’t want a kiss, even on the cheek, from a little girl he usually thought of as his cousin. Though, it could’ve been worse. Aunt Kiara could’ve been here to kiss him instead.

They had barely begun to eat when a barn owl swooped in the open window, along with a soft breeze, and landed on the back of an unoccupied chair, hooting once. Harry had only taken a step to retrieve the letter, however, when Brenna bounded over and took it, grinning excitedly. He snatched it out of her hands, and the owl swooped back out the window.

“Hey!�

“It’s my letter, Brenna, wait for your own,� he said, turning away to keep her from snatching it back.

“But that’s in three years!�

“Everyone has to wait eleven years,� he said, looking at the neat print spelling out his exact address in green ink on the front of the heavy parchment envelope. He flipped it over and examined the Hogwarts seal of a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake circling a large letter H. He grinned.

“So, in a few days once Harry opens his letter,� Sirius said, “why don’t we all go down to Diagon Alley and get his stuff?�

The doorbell rang again as Harry slit the letter open. “That’ll be Remus,� James said, heading out to answer the door. With Brenna bouncing at his side, Harry sat down so she could look at the letter with him. It contained several heavy parchment pages. The top one read:


Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of the Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress


Remus Lupin stepped in ahead of James and grinned a welcome to Harry. Harry thought every time he saw him that Remus looked thinner than the last time, and now he had noticeable bags under his eyes. He was another one Harry referred to as his “uncle� because Remus was another of James’s close friends, though not quite on the same level as Sirius. “Happy birthday, Harry,� he said as he sat down.

“Hullo, Uncle Remus.�

“Speaking of Hogwarts,� Remus said, pulling something out of his bag, “I was just in that area and remembered your birthday, so I stopped in Hogsmeade.� Harry shifted uncomfortably but didn’t say anything. He always felt awkward getting presents from Remus because it always seemed like there were better things he could spend his money on. Like food.

“Thanks,� Harry said, unwrapping the present to reveal some Honeydukes chocolate, marked in bold letters: “Exclusively this summer!�

Meanwhile, Brenna had practically jumped on Remus. “Morning, Brenna,� he said, laughing and hugging her back fondly.

“I gave Harry a kiss,� she proclaimed. Harry ducked behind his chair under the pretence of throwing away the wrapping paper on his present.

“Did you now?� Remus asked, lifting an eyebrow at Sirius.

“Her mum put her up to it,� Sirius said.

“I guess we’re all here,� James said, getting Remus some toast. “So when we’re ready, we can head off to Diagon Alley and spend the day out there.�

“All of us?� Remus asked. “What about Kiara?�

“Deadlines,� Sirius said.

“Her latest book?�

“A killer.�

Remus nodded. “She’s not coming at all then?�

“Most likely.� Sirius shrugged and yawned, leaning back in the chair and stretching his arms over his head. “I hate her deadlines; everything becomes about her book.� He dropped his arms, draping one around Brenna who had come to stand next to him as she nibbled on a piece of toast. She automatically leaned on him, resting her head on his shoulder.

They were not long at breakfast, and then they all made their way into the sitting room, Harry still happily holding his Hogwarts letter. He almost went up to the fireplace still wearing his pyjamas, but Brenna was happy to point this fact out to him, and he dashed upstairs to change. One by one, they approached the fireplace and took a pinch of the shining powder, sitting in a wooden bowl carved with stylised lions on the mantelpiece, and tossed it in the fire. The flames rushed up, a ghostly shade of flickering green, and they each stepped into the flames, shouted, “Diagon Alley!� and disappeared.

Harry brushed soot off his clothes as he stepped away from the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, a seedy-looking pub which marked the entrance to Diagon Alley in London. The room was dark, and his glasses were peppered with ash, so he stood off to the side, rubbing his glasses on his already dirty shirt, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Brenna hopped out of the fireplace right behind him, followed last by James, who did a quick head count, then nodded.

Tom, the aging barkeep, grinned over at them. “Well, lovely to see all of you this morning.� His eyes fell on Harry. “Come to do some school shopping?�

Harry nodded, grinning. “Yes, sir.�

He bobbed a bow, and Harry shifted uncomfortably. Tom always seemed a touch more polite to him than to the others around, though Tom was always polite to everyone, but James had taken Harry through here so many times through his life that Tom was used to it now. The shops in Diagon Alley would be worse.

“Could I get you anything before you head out?� Tom asked, his eyes sweeping over the three adults.

“Not today,� James said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Dad,� Harry hissed.

“Today is all about Harry. It’s his eleventh birthday.�

Harry rolled his eyes. Here we go.... A couple more curious patrons glanced over and noticed the scar on Harry’s head. Many of them were regulars, so simply nodded to him, some voicing some congratulations, but a few stared at him, whispering to each other, and his name passed rapidly round the small room. Harry loved his dad, but he could wish James was just a touch more discreet sometimes. “So, shall we go out back, then?� he said loudly, starting through the room. Brenna giggled.

Out back, Remus pulled out his wand, counted out the bricks above the trash can, and tapped on the one to open up the arch into Diagon Alley.

Though he had been there many times, somehow this time it looked different to Harry. This time, he would be picking out supplies for Hogwarts, so everywhere he looked, he saw things he would need. Cauldrons and potions supplies, robes and books, and maybe even animals and broomsticks. He wanted to stop and look at the display of the new Nimbus Two Thousand in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, but the rest of his group moved him onward to Gringotts first. Brenna jumped up and down, tugging on Sirius’s sleeve, begging to go in with them to ride in the carts. The carts were not terribly big, though, and all the rest of them had been to the bank plenty of times, so it was James, Harry, and Brenna who went up the steps of the snow-white bank and through the silver doors into the bustling marble lobby.

Harry kept an eye on Brenna while James went up to one of the goblins behind the counter. He eventually just seized her hand to make her stay close, but she kept trying to walk off, tugging on his hand. “Brenna, stop it,� Harry said, pulling her back. She giggled and did it again, this time pulling on him with both hands, using her weight—small as she was, Harry wasn’t very large himself—as leverage and grinning at him. “If you don’t stop it right now, I’m going to give you to the goblins,� he threatened.

“No, you won’t,� she said in a sing-song voice.

“Oh yes, I will. Do you know what goblins do to little girls?� he asked, lowering his voice dramatically. Despite herself, she stopped pulling on his hand and stepped a little closer to hear. “They use them as slave labour down in the tunnels. And they drill the Muggle way—no magic. Then, when you can’t work anymore, they feed you to their dragons.�

“So, they really do have dragons!� She jumped up and down. “I knew it! I told Daddy I’d seen a dragon once, but he said the goblins started it as a rumour to scare people. They don’t need dragons is what he said.� A goblin nearby heard this and chuckled dryly.

“Well, here’s a great chance to ask one if they do,� Harry said, jerking his head toward the goblin. He leaned toward her and whispered, “But be careful they don’t kidnap you. Even Uncle Sirius wouldn’t dare try to steal anything from goblins.�

Brenna scowled at him. “You’re lying. Daddy’s the bravest man in the world, and he’d do anything to save me! He told me so.�

Harry opened his mouth, but James returned just then and ushered them after a waiting goblin. “All right, you two,� he said, “that’s enough.�

“Uncle James, Uncle James!� Brenna jumped up and down, tugging on his robes even as the three of them followed the goblin. “Isn’t Daddy the bravest man in the world? Isn’t he?�

“I think you’re better off asking him that,� James said, and Harry snickered. Brenna kicked at him. “Hey now.� James took hold of her hand and pulled her away from Harry. “That’s not very lady-like.�

As they left the marble hall, the scenery around them darkened to torch-lit stone, but Harry could still see the little pink tongue Brenna stuck out at him. “Neither is that,� he said.

“So?� She stuck her nose up into the air. Their goblin guide was politely ignoring the children and whistled for the cart. “I don’t care about being a lady.�

“Is that so?� James said, hoisting her up into the cart. “That’s a perfectly valid choice. Then, it’s not very good manners to kick someone.� When James got into the little cart, Brenna sat on his lap, smirking smugly at Harry. He just rolled his eyes.

“It’s not good manners to laugh at someone, either,� she said, folding her arms.

“You have a point as well,� James said, putting his arms around her to keep her in place, and any more conversation was stopped suddenly as the cart zoomed off down the narrow tunnel. Harry still liked these wild cart rides; they rather reminded him of flying on a broom. Though, he thought as he was jolted against the side of it on a particularly sharp turn, the action of Dad’s Silver Tail was much smoother. Brenna squealed as they entered a huge cavern with an underground lake and tried to look over the side, but James held onto her. They passed it before she could fight effectively.

When the cart at last came to a stop in front of their vault, James patted Brenna’s shoulder. “All right, love, get up for a bit,� he said, and climbed out of the cart. Their goblin opened the vault door for them, revealing the small fortune that James’s parents had left to their only son. To Harry’s surprise, he pulled out two bags and filled each of them with some bronze Knuts, silver Sickles, and gold Galleons.

“What’s that one for?� he asked as James came back and the vault door began closing. He gaped as James held one bag out to him.

“Well, go on.�

Harry took it, hefting the bag of money. Even though they’d never had any problems with money before, Harry had never gotten an allowance.

“You’re going off to school now, so I won’t exactly be in the other room if you need something,� James said, stowing the bag he had gotten for himself and getting back in the cart.

Harry grinned. “Thanks, Dad,� he said just as the cart rattled back into motion. After a few turns, though, Harry realized that they didn’t seem to be going back up. Actually, they were going a bit deeper. Before long, they stopped at another vault. “Dad?�

“Sirius asked me to get some out of his vault, too, while we were here,� James said.

This door, rather than having a key, had a small hole the size of a Knut, just the right height for their guide to blow into it. A soft clicking sound came from the door, and then it split in half and opened. Considerably more things were in this vault. Not just money, but some jewels and crafted gold objects that looked like they might be heirlooms. Even a painting hung in this vault directly across from the door, a sallow, pale man with a pointed face and severe black eyes glowered down at James as he entered.

“You are not a Black,� the painting said. Brenna stuck her tongue out at it.

“No, I’m not,� James said lightly, gathering gold for Sirius anyway. “I come on behalf of a Black.�

The ancient Black sneered down his nose at James, then looked out at the cart where Brenna was. She suddenly looked deceptively innocent and sweet. “Very well, then,� he said grudgingly. Brenna grinned at him, but when he looked away, she made faces again. Harry snorted.

The door closed, and James came back to the cart. “You have to placate that one,� he said, shaking his head. “Leave it to the Blacks to figure out how to let a painting expel someone from a bank vault if they don’t belong.�

“They don’t even trust the goblins to guard it?� Harry asked.

“Blacks trust no one,� James said, rolling his eyes.

“At least he’s not like Grandma’s painting,� Brenna said. “This one doesn’t know Daddy’s a blood traitor.�

“You sound so happy when you say that....�

And off went the cart again.

When they returned to the marble main room of the bank, the first thing all three of them noticed was a gigantic man entering the silver doors. He was several times larger than anyone else in the room, with wild long hair and a beard, and a coat that seemed made of nothing but pockets. James grinned. “Hagrid! Well, if it hasn’t been bloody ages since I’ve seen you.�

“James!� Hagrid sounded like he was grinning, but his mouth was lost in all the beard. “An’ good lord, if it ain’t Harry. An’ ... Brenna?�

Brenna half-hid behind James, peering up at him with large blue eyes. “How do you know my name?�

“He’s a friend of mine and your dad’s,� James said, putting a hand on her head. “This is Rubeus Hagrid, he’s the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Was even when I went there.� He tried to urge her out from behind him, but she stayed where she was. He chuckled, then turned back to Hagrid. “So, what brings you out here?�

“Doin’ a little business for Professor Dumbledore,� Hagrid said, puffing up importantly. “Wants me to get sommat out of Gringotts fer him.�

“Like what?� Harry asked, grinning despite himself at the gamekeeper’s demeanour.

“Can’t tell yeh that,� he said mysteriously. “More’n me job’s worth to tell yeh sommat like that, and Dumbledore’s countin’ on me.�

“Harry’s just gotten his letter,� James said, “and we’re getting his school stuff. It’s his eleventh birthday.�

“Is it, now? Happy birthday, Harry!�

“Thanks,� Harry said, shifting a bit and pushing his glasses up his nose.

“We’ve got Sirius and Remus waiting for us, Hagrid, but it was nice to see you.�

Hagrid nodded pleasantly and patted Harry gently on the shoulder. James grabbed his arm to keep him upright. “I’ll be seein’ yeh at Hogwarts, then, Harry,� he said, winking, and strode off toward the counters.

James chuckled as he herded the two kids out of Gringotts, Harry glancing back a few times at Hagrid. “He’s harmless, really. And a right good friend, too. Helped all of us out of trouble a fair few times when we were at school.� He waved to the other two when he spotted them, and the group gathered back together.

Brenna immediately went back to her dad and tugged on his sleeve. “Daddy, Daddy, do goblins use little girls as slaves in the tunnels?�

Sirius chuckled at her. “Of course not. Little girls aren’t the best slaves for underground tunnels.�

“And they use magic to dig?�

“Why all the questions?� He crouched down, and she cuddled up against his chest.

“Harry said goblins would abduct little girls and use them as slaves to dig their tunnels without magic. And then feed them to dragons.� She pulled away, looking at him urgently, the words spilling from her too fast for Sirius to answer in between. “And he also said that if I got abducted, you wouldn’t come rescue me because you’re scared of the goblins, but I told him you were the bravest man in the world and would come save me, and of course you would, wouldn’t you Daddy?�

“Slow down,� he said, hugging her and laughing. “Now, let’s get something straight. Goblins are not going to abduct you. Harry does not know everything.� Brenna stuck her tongue out at Harry over Sirius’s shoulder. “And of course I would save you from anything. You’re my precious, love.� He pulled back and ruffled her hair. “Better?�

She beamed at him. “Yes, Daddy.�

In order to get the necessary things done first, it was mutually decided that James, Remus, and Harry would go get Harry’s school robes. Sirius was stuck entertaining Brenna, who did not think waiting for Harry to get fitted for new clothes sounded very fun.

Harry entered Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions a couple of minutes later, looking around. James and Remus had gone right next door with his shopping list to gather his books, and he was going to meet them there when he was done. A witch, possibly Madam Malkin, spotted him and came over smiling. “Hogwarts, dear? Got the lot here—another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.�

He was ushered back where he saw a pale boy with slick blonde hair standing on a stool in front of a mirror as another witch pinned his hem up. The pale boy nodded to him, and Harry nodded back, stepping up and letting a robe get slipped over his head.

“Hullo,� the pale boy said. “Hogwarts, too?�

“Yes,� Harry said.

“My father’s next door buying my books, and mother’s up the street looking at wands,� he drawled. “Then, I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully my father into getting me one and smuggle it in somehow. Do you have your own broom?�

“Not yet,� Harry said, resisting the impulse to shrug. “Dad said he’d get me one when I get on a team.�

“What position do you play?�

“Usually Seeker, but Dad taught me Chaser, too. He used to play Chaser in school.�

“Well, Father said it’d be a crime if I’m not picked for my house team,� the pale boy went on, not very interested despite his questions, “and I must say I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?�

“No one does until they get there,� Harry said, getting irritated.

“Not for sure, I suppose, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin. All my family has. Imagine being in Hufflepuff. I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?�

“Better than Slytherin,� Harry said. “I’m going to be in Gryffindor like my dad and granddad.�

“Really,� he sneered, looking Harry up and down. Harry looked back at the mirror to hide his scar. “You know, it’s usually only Mudblood-lovers who get into that house.�

Madam Malkin looked up at him severely. “Please do not use that kind of language in my shop.�

“Being in Gryffindor doesn’t mean anything of the sort,� Harry said defensively. “And besides, my mother was Muggle-born.�

“You have a Muggle for a mother?�

“I didn’t say Muggle; I said Muggle-born. She was a witch. And it’s only pureblood maniacs who get into Slytherin,� Harry added scathingly. “And prats obsessed with the Dark Arts.�

The boy’s pale face flushed about the cheeks, giving him the oddly off look of a porcelain doll. “What would you know about it, anyway?� he spat.

“My godfather came from a family all from Slytherin, and he hated every one of them. Said they were all gits only obsessed with breeding and the Dark Arts. They’re so thick, they burned him off the family tree because he got Sorted into Gryffindor.�

“That’s you done, dear,� said Madam Malkin, and Harry hopped off the stool and stalked away, just as glad as Madam Malkin to end the conversation with the pale pureblood. He hadn’t calmed down much by the time he went to find James and Remus in Flourish and Blotts bookstore.

Though normally all the spell books dominated the store (shelves of leather-bound volumes, some as large as paving stones, covered every wall and even more books were stacked up on display tables all round the store), today two people were the centre of attention: Harry’s dad and a pale man with long blonde hair. He looked suspiciously familiar, too, though it was only when Harry saw the glinting eyes that he remembered. “My father’s next door buying my books....�

“It’ll be just like old times, I guess,� James was saying, smirking but with a look of hatred in his eyes. “Is your son planning on starting up the old group at Hogwarts again, then, Malfoy?�

“Do not insult me, Potter,� Mr Malfoy said coldly. He started to go on, but James interrupted.

“And how are you going to stop me?� He grinned, especially pleased with the frosty irritation at his interruption. “I’d love to see you try. I dunno how you’d manage to wriggle out of trouble for cursing someone for no reason right in the middle of a bookshop, but it promises to be fun.�

Harry went to stand next to Remus, who was on the sidelines of the fight and looking awkward. “Oh hullo, Harry,� he said. “I’d step back a bit, looks like they might start shooting sparks even without pulling their wands out.�

“What’s going on?�

“We had the, er, luck to run into an old acquaintance of ours.� Remus shook his head. “Your father is still a bit ... chafing.�

“Well, I can tell that much,� Harry said, nodding at the two wizards who now appeared to be engaged in a staring contest.

“It’s just lucky Sirius isn’t here. If those two were standing next to each other, the bookshop might be in shambles by now.�

Harry looked around and saw an attendant hovering a little ways away, twitching nervously. “Why haven’t they been kicked out yet?�

“Most likely because everyone’s afraid of what Lucius Malfoy and James Potter will do to each other and the street if they’re given the opportunity,� Remus said, sighing. “And ‘step outside’ is frightfully like an opportunit—Oh no.� Sirius and Brenna had just entered the store. Remus moved to intercept them, but Sirius had already noticed Mr Malfoy. His face split into a wolfish grin, and he left Brenna in Remus’s care to stalk forward. The attendant was starting to look panicked.

“Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy? Well, well....�

Mr Malfoy looked over and narrowed his eyes, taking on a look like something smelly had just come in. “Ah, Potter. I mean Black. So sorry. One does find it hard to keep the two of you straight these days.�

“My apologies,� Sirius snarled, “for actually sticking by my friends.�

Mr Malfoy’s eyes drifted over to Remus, his eyebrows lifting with his smirk. “Such worthy friends.�

“You slimy little....�

“Ah, the insults.� Mr Malfoy shook his head. “It seems this conversation has decayed down to petty name-calling. You’ll excuse me if I don’t lower myself to join you.� And he swept out of the shop.

Remus snagged Sirius by the arm as he tried to follow him out. “Not now,� he said out of the corner of his mouth, not looking over at Sirius. “Let it go.� Sirius shook Remus off and glowered sourly out the door.

Harry approached his dad, who looked disappointed at missing his chance to hex Mr Malfoy. “Dad? Are you okay?�

“What? Oh. Fine.� He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it up more than usual. “Let’s just get your books, son.� James remained rather quiet the rest of the time they were in Flourish and Blotts, ignoring Sirius’s brooding looks.

They went on to get most of Harry’s supplies with the same dark cloud hanging over them, so Harry decided to say something. “I think I met Mr Malfoy’s son,� Harry said, would-be casual. He didn’t know what else to do, but it seemed like everyone was upset mostly over the insult to Remus, so if he could just change the subject....

“Draco?� Sirius said.

Harry shrugged. “Didn’t catch his name.� Sheepishly, he added, “I was a little too preoccupied calling him a git and defending Gryffindor.�

Sirius laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll be just fine, then.�

James grinned, looking up the street. “Well, why don’t we get you your birthday present next, Harry, and then go get your wand?�

Harry brightened, trying to follow his gaze. “Really? What is it?�

“I dunno yet. What d’you want?� James nodded toward the Magical Menagerie down the street.

Harry thought of his dad’s Great Horned owl back home and grinned. “An owl,� he said.

“You could always use the school owls to send letters,� James went on, “but I thought you’d rather have your own.�

So, all five of them piled into the shop, already crowded with cages of all shapes and sizes, containing animals from birds (small little finches all the way up to enormous ravens, but not an owl in sight) to rodents to reptiles. Brenna immediately went to a cage on her eye-level containing several hyperactive ferrets bouncing a ping-pong ball to each other with their noses like seals. One of the cats lying on a shelf eyeing a cage of bouncing purple balls of fluff seemed to have a coat pattern like a cross between a tabby and a blue roan horse.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?� asked the witch behind the counter as one of her customers left carrying a closed basket that rustled strangely.

“I’m looking for an owl,� Harry said.

“Don’t have too many owls due to lack of space,� she said, “but I did get a rare one in the other day. Snowy. She’s off in the back where it’s dark.�

“Can I see her?� Harry asked eagerly. He’d never seen anyone else with a snowy owl before. The witch went off into the back, and moments later, Harry was looking happily through the wire bars at a somewhat disgruntled snowy owl. “She’s beautiful.� He looked over at James, who stepped up to the counter chuckling.

Sirius was forced to pick up Brenna in order to get her away from the ferrets and out of the shop. His face lit up upon seeing Florean Fortesque’s Ice Cream Parlour just across the street. “D’you want some ice cream, Brenna?�

She cheered up immediately.

“Say, Prongs mate, would you mind taking her?� Sirius asked James, grinning a bit too sweetly to be believable. James took one look at him, shook his head, and took Brenna from him, heading across the street. “Thanks a million.�

Harry wasn’t quite sure what Sirius was up to, but he followed him down the street curiously, his mouth dropping open when they stopped at Quality Quidditch Supplies. “You don’t have your own broom yet, do you Harry?�

Remus rolled his eyes even as the three of them went in. “Sirius, he can’t have his own broom. It says on the list.�

“Just because he can’t take it doesn’t mean he can’t have it, right?� He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Go on, Harry. Pick out any one of the lot. Happy birthday.�

Harry grinned and dashed over to the displays, barely hearing Remus mutter, “Now I know why Brenna got taken for ice cream....� He looked over the Silver Tail display first because that was what his dad had, but it didn’t take long before he was walking back out of the shop with a brand new Nimbus Two Thousand. Brenna just about threw a fit when she saw they’d gone to Quality Quidditch Supplies without her.

The only thing left was his wand, and Harry felt a thrill of excitement as they approached Ollivander’s shop, marked with faded gold letters over the door. A bell tinkled somewhere in the depths of the shop as they entered. It was small inside, the walls covered in stacks of thin boxes as high as the ceiling. The air absorbed sound like a sponge, forcing even Brenna to quiet down. Harry looked around at all the thin boxes, wondering which one held his wand.

He’d never been in a place like this before. The hair on the back of his neck prickled with the magic in the air. So many wands being stacked up for so long in one place seemed to have made everything down to the little spindly chair magical.

“Good afternoon.�

Harry jumped. An old man stood before them, peering with strangely lit eyes, like small moons. He looked over Harry carefully. “Ah yes, I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.� Harry shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of those glowing eyes. “You have your mother’s eyes. I remember well the day she came in here herself to buy her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Good for charm work.� His eyes flicked to James. “And James Potter. Mahogany. Eleven inches. Pliable.�

James nodded, grinning a bit. “Your memory is as creepy as it ever was. Nice to see you again.�

Mr Ollivander nodded to him, his eyes moving on to Sirius. “Sirius Black, cherry wood, nine inches, nice and sturdy.� Sirius patted a hand over the very wand just described. “An unusual combination, cherry and dragon heartstring. But then, you turned out a bit unusual yourself, eh, Mr Black?�

He grinned and bowed. “To the dismay of my poor, dear old mum.� James snorted. Harry was starting to agree with his dad: Mr Ollivander’s memory was kind of creepy.

“And, of course, Remus Lupin. Yours was also willow, but nine and a half inches and flexible.� He looked Remus over for a moment. “I hope your wand is doing better than you look, lad.�

Remus smiled a bit, looking much older than either of his friends standing next to him. “I do take care of it, yes.�

Mr Ollivander just nodded, returning his attention to Harry. “I suppose we should get started, then. Which is your wand arm?� he asked, pulling out a tape measure. Harry stretched out his right arm, and Mr Ollivander started to measure him. It started out rather expected—shoulder to wrist, length and width of his palm, finger length—and deteriorated from there until it started measuring around his head and from his knees to the floor.

“I use magical substances as the core of wands, Mr Potter,� he said as he measured, “but only the most stable and powerful. Every Ollivander wand contains a unique core of either unicorn hair, phoenix tail feather, or dragon heartstring. The wand will be as unique as the owner it chooses. And yes, I did say the owner it chooses, for the wand chooses the wizard, my boy. Never forget that.�

By now, the tape measure was moving on its own as Mr Ollivander browsed the boxes, pulling some of them down. “Right then,� he said, and the tape measure, which had been measuring around Harry’s calves, crumpled to the floor. “Try this one. Elm and dragon heartstring. Eight inches and rather spry. Just give it a wave.�

He did, feeling his excitement mounting now that he was finally trying out wands (secretly taking James’s wand and trying to cast spells with it wasn’t nearly the same thing as having his own), but none of the wands seemed to be right. Even Harry could feel it as he tried several in a row. The magic from the room around him just didn’t seem to include him.

Mr Ollivander paused after a while, looking thoughtful. “Well, why not....� He searched among the boxes for something specific. “Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches and supple.� He handed the wand to Harry. “Unusual, but....�

He felt the difference immediately. This wand, unlike the others, felt magical as soon as he touched it. On a whim, he waved it toward Brenna, shooting red and gold sparks at her and making her squeal and hide behind Sirius. Everyone but Brenna clapped, and James said, “I think we have a winner.�

Mr Ollivander looked preoccupied with something as he wrapped the wand back up in its box. Harry glanced over at his dad, but James was whispering to Sirius, both of them grinning. When he turned back, Mr Ollivander was peering at him closely. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

Something about the way he stood made the rest of the group quiet down to listen. He paused as if deciding something then reached up to lightly touch Harry’s scar. “I’m afraid I sold the wand that did this,� he said softly, his tone making the hair on the back of Harry’s neck prickle. “Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. With a phoenix feather core. Now, it just so happens, Mr Potter, that the phoenix who gave the feather in your wand gave only one other feather.� He tapped Harry’s forehead once again. “This one.� Harry felt a chill run through him at the touch. “It was a very powerful wand. But as I said, the wand chooses the wizard. Curious how these things happen. We should expect great things from you, Mr Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great.�

“That’s quite enough, Mr Ollivander,� James snapped, stepping forward and putting his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “If you don’t mind, we’ll take Harry’s wand and leave.�

Mr Ollivander bowed politely. “My apologies, of course. I did not mean to offend.�

Harry looked up at James and said quietly, “It’s okay, Dad.�

“No,� James said flatly, not taking his eyes off the wand maker. “It’s not.�

Harry’s wand was wrapped up and paid for, and Mr Ollivander bowed them from his shop. James was the last to leave. No one was much in a talking mood as they headed back down Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron with all of Harry’s things, most of them piled into his cauldron. His head felt stuffed full of cotton and bees, muffling the constant buzz of his thoughts until he wasn’t sure what he was thinking anymore.

Another man was approaching the fireplace just as they were, preoccupied and worried about something. As a matter of fact, Harry thought, he looked downright terrified. His thin face was pale, and he couldn’t stop twitching: be it wringing his hands or scratching his neck. He jumped a little when he noticed all of them. “Oh d-dear,� he stuttered. “Sorry.�

“You go ahead of us,� Remus said politely. “It’ll take us a bit to all get through.�

The young man nodded, almost bobbed. “Th-Thank you.� His eyes swept indiscriminately over all of them but darted back to Harry. Specifically, his forehead. Against all odds, he paled further and ducked his head, hurrying to the fireplace. He stuttered so badly and was in such a rush that Harry couldn’t understand where he told the fire he was going.

“I hope he doesn’t get lost,� Harry muttered absently.

“He’s weird,� Brenna said.

“So are you, but you don’t hear us complaining,� Harry said. She just stuck her nose in the air.

August passed in a strange blur. Days, sometimes even a week, would pass by in a flash, but once Harry noticed how fast the time moved, it would slow down and drag for hours or days on end. He couldn’t decide if he was excited or just nervous about going to Hogwarts. Only the Muggle-borns wouldn’t know who he was, and everyone else would probably be more than happy to fill them in. Before, he had always been able to come home to escape his fame, but at Hogwarts, he wouldn’t have that luxury. James had said that he would live in a dormitory with the other boys in his year and House. At the moment, Harry didn’t much like the idea.

His snowy owl swooped in and out as she pleased, though her favourite roost was Harry’s room. He had decided to name her Hedwig, a name he found in A History of Magic, and she got along very well with James’s Great Horned owl Merlin. There were disadvantages to having his own owl, though, he thought one night as Hedwig dropped a dead mouse right on top of the open copy of A Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 in front of him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Hedwig,� he said, picking it up by its tail and moving to the window, “but I don’t eat mice.� She hooted irritably at him as he dropped it out the window. “I do that every time you bring one back, stop acting surprised.�

Harry found his school books very interesting, but after the first time James poked fun at him for studying before he even got to school, he kept to himself whenever he opened one. (James had tried to disguise it as being a good father and impressed that his son was so studious, but Harry wasn’t fooled.)

Of course, James had no intention of just quietly letting his son go off to Hogwarts. They spent most of August spending time together, and James told him all kinds of stories about his time at the school of magic.

“We knew the school better than anyone,� he said one night, the two of them sitting by the fire after dinner. “Even the old caretaker, though he’d never admit it. There was supposed to be a curfew, mind, but none of us really cared. We got in a fair bit of trouble sometimes when we got caught, but that just made it more fun. You know, we used to sneak down in our later years and join Remus on the full moons. We all became Animagi while we were still in school, but technically no one knows that.�

“‘We all’?� Harry asked, curious. “But Uncle Remus is already a werewolf....�

“Ah.... No, it was me, Sirius, and Peter Pettigrew. The four of us.� Harry opened his mouth to ask James what the matter was because his dad suddenly looked very grave, but James moved on quickly to tell a story about the time he and Sirius had snuck into the Forbidden Forest to see the centaurs. “Hagrid had mentioned them to us,� he said, “but we wanted to see for ourselves. Of course, he wasn’t too pleased with us when he found us out there. After hours, you see, and the Forbidden Forest is, quite obviously, out of bounds....� Harry was swept up in the story of the centaurs and quite interested in why they didn’t like humans very much.

He was already in bed before he remembered his question, but he decided not to ask again. James just didn’t like talking about some things, and that must be one of them.

Sirius and Brenna joined them on occasion. Sometimes just Brenna, though every time she showed up by herself Harry got the sneaking suspicion that he and James were on babysitting duty. She seemed to have taken it as a personal insult that Harry was leaving to Hogwarts without her and made it her mission to make him feel as guilty as possible about it.

Harry, for his part, ignored every one of these attempts just to annoy her.

James and Harry played catch with a Quaffle out in an old field not far from home. The first time they did, Harry flew around the field and looped up in the air, testing out his new broom.

James flew up to join him. “So? How’s it handle?�

“Better than yours,� Harry called back, grinning.

“I like my old girl.� James patted the handle of his Silver Tail. “She’s served me well all these years, and she knows just how I like to fly.�

“We gonna play or not?�

“Waiting on you!� On the last word, he pulled the Quaffle out where he’d been hiding it in the crook of his arm and the folds of his red robes and threw it at Harry. Surprised, but used to this from his dad, he caught it, and the game began.

They liked to keep it ambiguous. It was never really certain at any point whether they were Chasers on the same team, or a Chaser and Keeper on opposing teams. The ball might go flying right into their arms or shooting past them at invisible goal posts. James said this was for three reasons. First, to keep him on his toes. Second, because then he could intercept a Quaffle if it was going to a Chaser on the other team. And third, “Because in the heat of the game, that ball might’ve been meant for you, but the Chaser who threw it just screwed up.�

Though his favourite position to play was Seeker, that was only if they had enough people. Here, just with his dad, Harry didn’t care what he played.

“Hey, Dad?� Harry called after throwing the Quaffle a couple hours into their game. “How come you don’t play for a professional Quidditch team or something?�

“Never really thought about it, I guess,� he said, not pausing the game for their conversation. “When I left school, I had more important things to do, and then I was raising you. Being a single father and running all over the country and continent for Quidditch matches don’t match up well.�

“I guess. I wouldn’t have minded, though,� Harry added. “I think it would be cool to have my dad be on a professional Quidditch team.�

“Like publicity, do you?�

Harry flushed, nearly fumbling the ball. “That’s not what I meant!� he called, trying to keep his hands on the red Quaffle. “Gotcha,� he muttered, tucking the ball in the crook of his arm. His eyes slid past it to the ground far below, and he quickly sat straight again. That was a little too close to falling for comfort.

“I don’t think I’d like it, anyway,� James said, brushing his fingers through his hair to try and get his bangs out of his eyes. Not that it helped with the wind so strong up there. “Quidditch is something I do for fun, always have. Even in school, when it all came down to it, it was just a game. But people make such a big deal out of the professional sport. They suck all the fun out of it—turn it into a job.�

“It would be nice to play with enough people for once.� Harry grinned. “I almost never get to play Seeker.�

“You’re gonna be brilliant, Harry.�

Harry grinned for the rest of the afternoon.

He kept putting off packing during the last week of August, still wavering between excitement and nerves. So, when August 31 dawned, the only things packed in his trunk were his school supplies from Diagon Alley that he hadn’t pulled out to use, like his cauldron or his black robes. He looked glumly at the half-empty trunk before going down to breakfast, wishing it could be over and done with and wishing he had another month at home.

“Hey, Dad?� he said at the table, poking idly at his toast. “D’you think I’ll get any friends at Hogwarts?�

“Wha’?� James frowned, swallowing the sausage in his mouth. “What d’you mean, Harry? Of course you will.�

“No. I mean, real friends.� He didn’t look up at his dad. “Like Brenna and Uncle Sirius....�

“Why wouldn’t you?�

“Well....� He struggled with words for a moment, then just glumly pointed at his forehead.

“Harry,� James said gently. He got up and put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “All right, listen to me.� He adopted a rather grand tone, as if announcing the presence of the Minister of Magic. “You, Harry Potter, are incredibly famous and well-known, have been almost all your life, and people admire and love you.�

Harry shrank. Thanks, Dad, this is helping....

“But,� James continued in a softer, fond tone, squeezing Harry’s shoulders, “you’re also my son. You are a young wizard about to go off to Hogwarts like many other young wizards have and will. You will simply have your first impression already taken care of, in a way, for better or worse.� James shifted to kneel next to Harry’s chair so Harry had to look at him. “And you have the advantage of knowing what true friends are like. Trust me; you’ll be able to spot them a mile away.�

“I guess.� Harry wasn’t entirely convinced, but he did feel a bit better. Being just one of many would be nice.

“Hogwarts will be great, just you wait and see,� James said, standing and ruffling Harry’s mop of black hair.

Reflexively, Harry ducked, trying to flatten his hair with one hand. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the grin from his face. “Right, Dad, go on and ruin it by treating me like a kid.�

“Aw,� James said, puckering his lips to increase the goo-goo voice and trying to pinch Harry’s cheek, “but you’ll always be my widdle boy, Hawwy!�

“Agh! Geroff!�

They tussled for a moment, until Harry gave up on pushing his dad away and instead slipped out of his chair and fled the kitchen, laughing. “Come back here!� James shouted, pursuing him all the way down the hall, around the staircase, and out the door into the backyard. Harry was on the point of opening the door to the shed and getting his broom out when James caught him, and they tumbled through the dewy grass together, both still in their pyjamas, glasses askew, and leaves in their hair.

“Dad!� Harry tried to talk through laughing, but he couldn’t quit squirming even though it didn’t help stop the tickling any. “Dad, stoppit! The grass is wet!�

“Well, that’s your fault for coming out here, then, innit?� James said, laughing triumphantly, but he did let his son up, offering a hand for the small, panting boy, and together, they went back inside.

Harry spent the morning playing games with his father, but a little after one, James snuck up behind him and slipped a blindfold over his eyes. “Hey!� Harry tried to pull it off, but his dad stopped him.

“It’s a surprise. This is to make sure you don’t peek.�

“I won’t peek,� Harry assured him, but nothing doing, the blindfold stayed on. “Do I at least get to know where we’re going?�

“Nope,� James said brightly, and Harry found his hands guided to hold onto what felt like his father’s arm. “Just hold on very tight so you actually get there, and you’ll see in a moment.� Sensing what was about to happen, Harry tightened his grip just before the arm tried to twist away from him, and then the uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a small rubber tube engulfed his body. He stumbled once it went away, shaking his head. However much quicker or more convenient it may be, Harry was not going to be using Apparition much even after he was seventeen if he could help it.

James began walking, and Harry followed, still holding onto his arm. Once, he tried again to remove the blindfold, but James grabbed his hand. “Didn’t I say no peeking?�

The soft tapping of their footsteps said they walked on the pavement of a street, but then it shifted to crunching, his feet slipping a little instead of planting solidly as they shifted to gravel. A door opened somewhere ahead to the sound of stifled giggling, and Harry knew where they were. But he didn’t say anything. He let himself be guided through the door, the familiar vague scent of cinnamon tickling his nostrils. James finally stopped and pulled the blindfold off.

Harry stood in the centre of a room decorated with balloons crowding the ceiling and cinnamon-scented candles sitting upon the mantelpiece over the fireplace and on carved wooden coffee tables and end tables. A big banner hung across the wall he was facing with “Hogwarts or Bust� painted on it in bright green ink the colour of his eyes. Sirius, Remus, James, Brenna, and Kiara surrounded him, some sitting on the squashy black love seat or in an armchair and others standing, all grinning at him. “Surprise!� they shouted together, Brenna jumping up and down and squealing, Sirius pumping the air with a fist.

They spent the afternoon having a party at the Black house, several of them with going-away gifts for Harry. Kiara Black, a nice but somewhat scatter-brained woman with curly brown hair and perpetual ink-stains on her fingers, gave him some spell-correcting ink and some that would write in his favourite colour—whatever it happened to be at the moment, she said with a wink. Harry was just contemplating the concept of mind-reading ink bottles when Brenna came over (with a real gift this time instead of the kiss on his birthday) to give him a book bag decorated on the flap with the blue and yellow crest of Puddlemere United, Harry’s Quidditch team.

The afternoon disappeared into a haze of food, sweets, jokes, and stories. Harry’s nerves disappeared entirely in the whirl of activity and company, but as the sun went down and the party started to wrap up, he realized that this would be the last time in a long while before he saw most of these people again. Tomorrow morning, James would take him to the train station, and then it would be Christmas before Harry would even see him again. They waved and said their goodbyes, using the fireplace to go back home now that Harry didn’t need to be kept in the dark. The sitting room looked dark and empty when he stepped into it despite the flickering light of the flames behind him, and Harry felt a wave of loneliness.

James put his arm around Harry’s shoulders and guided him up the stairs to his own room. “One last thing before you go to bed,� he said, letting go to step into his closet for a moment. “I might need it back sometimes, but for the most part, I think it’s high time it passed on to you. After all, I had it while I was in school.�

“Dad, what’re you talking about?� Harry asked, but James just stepped out of the closet holding a bundle in his arms which he handed to Harry.

It wasn’t as solid as it had seemed, and he had to catch part of it that tried to slip, liquid-like, to the ground. Instead of a bundle, it was all a piece of cloth, shimmering silver, which felt like it had air sewn in with the thread. “What’s this?�

“My Invisibility Cloak.�

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “You have an Invisibility Cloak?� he asked, staring at his father as if he’d never quite seen him before.

“Not anymore I don’t,� James said, grinning. “You do. I am passing it on to you, Harry. Use it wisely.� And he winked.

All in all, Harry’s mind was buzzing as he climbed into bed that night, too full of party crackers and castles to settle down for sleep. As so often happened on the night before something important, he tossed and turned on his bed, the moonlight picking out the scar upon his forehead. His thoughts drifted seamlessly in and out of dreams, pulling him from his bedroom to the street outside, draped in an Invisibility Cloak, to an enormous stone hall with four long tables and surrounded with ghosts....

He realized he was awake again as the sun peeked over the horizon. With a groan, he rolled away from his window and tried to get some more sleep, but though his eyes were bleary and stuck together, he could not drift away. At last, he sat up and decided to finally finish packing so he wouldn’t be late to the train.

Though he picked his room apart looking for things and occasionally asked the advice of Hedwig who was settling in for a day’s sleep, it did not take him long to put everything together, and it was still hours before they would leave.

Harry decided to go for a walk.

He tossed his pyjamas into the trunk as well, pulled on clothes and shoes for the day, and paused in front of the mirror. In just a few hours, he would be getting onto a train with a lot of other kids, all of whom he would be spending nine months with, and most of whom would know who he was as soon as they clapped eyes on the pale white scar on his forehead. Nervously, he tried to flatten his bangs over it. If only he knew a concealing spell.... Not forever, just long enough for people to have first impressions that didn’t involve gawping at his forehead. He tried using a comb to brush his bangs down, but not only did they not stay, it made his hair look more lop-sided than usual, so he combed it back the way it had been.

In one last-ditch effort, he went into the washroom and tried slicking his hair down with water, but it only made him look like he just got out of the shower, his bangs plastered over his forehead. Even though water was dripping down his face, the ends were still curling out a bit as the water already began to dry.

Giving up, he went down the stairs and out the front door, looking up at the clear morning sky and sighing softly. James had all kinds of wonderful things to say about Hogwarts and the classes and all that, but Harry just didn’t know what to expect despite all the stories. He just didn’t feel much like his dad, he thought as he wandered down the street, not sure where he was going. He didn’t know that he would like sneaking off into the Forbidden Forest just to see centaurs who didn’t like humans. He didn’t want to attract everyone’s attention with how brilliant he was—he just wanted to be a kid going to school. Harry rubbed his damp forehead, feeling the little bump of his scar. People could get used to a lot of things. Maybe they would all get used to him. It was a thought.

His feet headed down the street without him having to lead them, and before he knew where he was, gravestones surrounded him like silent gray sentinels in the morning light, faded and worn. He did not question it, did not stop it, and knew exactly where he was going without having to direct it at all. A white marble gravestone stood in front of him, carved with the name of his mother. Harry felt empty for some reason, standing there in front of the grave of a woman who had affected his life so much but whom he had never met. Inscribed beneath the date of her death were the words “Love is the essence of all living.� It felt somehow wrong to him. He always felt that he loved his mother but just because that was what it seemed he should do. He only knew her through stories James told him, the pictures on the mantelpiece, and a cold white stone marker inscribed with her name.

“I’m going to Hogwarts today, Mum,� he said, his voice sounding far away to his ears, as if someone across the graveyard spoke instead of him. “Dad’s been saying you’d be proud of me. I guess you would.� He hesitated, feeling strange talking to some uncaring bit of earth simply because it had a stone marked over it with his mother’s name on it. He wondered what he would say if his mother really was standing in front of him. Maybe how scared he really was, how unimportant and insignificant he felt and how much he wished everyone else would get the idea and bugger off. But this was just a patch of dirt, how could he say things like that to it? It would just lie there no matter what he said or did.

“I thought you might be here.� A hand squeezed his shoulder gently, and Harry looked up to see James standing next to him, looking at the gravestone. Harry quickly wiped tears he only just realised were there from his eyes and looked at the gravestone, too. They stood in silence for a long moment, father and son and mother, and Harry started wondering if he could maybe pretend she was there. He had a picture of her in his mind, smiling and happy, from the photographs on the mantel, but when he tried to see her standing in front of him, he only felt sad.

“Why did she have to die, Dad?� Harry asked after a long moment, not taking his eyes off the carved name.

“I really don’t know,� James said, his voice quieter and deeper than usual. Older. Tired. “A lot of stupid things happen during wars, and not many of them make much sense. A lot of stupid people doing stupid things.�

Harry looked up at his dad to see a tear running down James’s cheek. Harry felt like an intruder in another person’s world, looking up at his father, so he looked quickly away and pretended not to see anything, hoping the feeling would leave. He didn’t belong here. This was a grave for James who actually knew Lily and loved her. Not for Harry.

“Always do what you feel you have to do, Harry,� James continued. “No matter what. Inevitably, sometimes, things just won’t work out the way you hoped they would, but there’s nothing you can do about that. You can only try your hardest and do everything you can.�

Is that what happened to you? Harry thought, though he didn’t have the heart to say it. Together, they turned back toward the kissing gate and left the graveyard.