Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.

Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. Feel free to back out if that's you.

Author's Note: So…here's a sequel to my fic Tell It to the Library. It gets explained in this fic (once you get to Jenkin's PoV), but just to recap the salient plot points from that fic: the Library connects its Backdoor to the public library in Little Whinging and Harry wanders into the Library where Jenkins adopts him immediately. As always, Harry is autistic and Desi, and no one ignores the child abuse (which might annoy some people, even in the story itself).

Submitting Info:
Stacked with: Hogwarts (Term 10); MC4A (FPC; BAON; ToS; Star; Fence; Shower; T3; SN)
Individual Challenges: Click Bait It; Yellow Ribbon (Y); Yellow Ribbon Redux; Neurodivergent; Quiet Time (Y); Short Jog; Ethnic & Present; Gryffindor MC (x2); Slytherin MC; Seeds; Sett to Destroy (Y); Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Real Family; Flags & Ribbons; Misunderstood (Y); Team Player; Letter of the Day; Themes & Things A [Family]; Themes & Things B [Protection]; Forehead Kisses; Golden Times
House: Hufflepuff
Assignment No.: Term 10 – Assignment 11
Subject (Task No.): Women's History (Task #4: Write about helping find someone who is missing.)
Other Hogwarts Challenges: Insane Prompt Challenge [427] (Getting Hogwarts Letter); 365 Prompts [23] (Regret); Scavenger Hunt [80] (Write a fic from multiple PoVs.); Gym [Action] (Stalking);
Representation(s): Autistic Harry Potter; Library Staff; Birthday Party
Bonus Challenges: Middle Name; Nightingale; Spinning Plates; Unwanted Advice; Delicious Lie; Mouth of Babes; Tomorrow's Shade; Second Verse (Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress; Found Family; Nontraditional; Teat Juice; Zucchini Bread); Chorus (Endless Wonder; Pear-Shaped; Pocky Pockets; Wabi Sabi; Bee Haven; Fizzy Lemonade; Machismo; Peddling Pots); Demo (Clio's Conclusion; Rock of Ages; Most Human Bean; Casper's House; Hot Apple; Queen Bee; Lettuce Hold Hands; Fruit Fly); Demo (Eternal Boredom; Head of Perseus; Creature Feature; Surprise!; Getting On; Gingersnap)
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: T3 (Tether); SN (Rail; Negate)
Word Count: 6837 words

(^^)
Overdue, Fines Incurring
(^^)

"Albus, we have a problem," Minerva announced as she entered his office unannounced. She looked harried with tufts of her dark hair escaping her tight bun. Her pale face was red and shiny with evidence of her exertion, and she was panting for breath. Albus carefully placed his quill back in its dedicated inkwell, grateful from the distraction that would allow him to put off answering Cornelius a bit longer.

In her hands, she held several letters of various sizes. Most were normal sized, their emerald seals still intact, but others appeared small enough to have spelled into smaller receptacles. Albus concluded that the parents of a Muggle-born for this year must be deliberately attempting to keep the student's invitation from them. It was a fool's task, of course, as the magic that addressed the letters would just continue sending an increasing number until an acceptance was sent back on the child's behalf. Very rarely did it require more than the day that a dozen or so letters arrived at once before the parents recognized the futility of evasion and capitulated to the needs of the young witch or wizard.

Even more rarely did a parent require a member of the staff to interfere anymore. The fortunate side effect of that was they now had ample time to focus on the children who had no legal guardians and had to be handled more delicately in order to uphold the Statute of Secrecy. The magic that keeps them from spilling the truth did not always like to settle correctly if they are temporary guardians. It always required laying the geas in person. Of course, occasionally both situations would only be resolved by arranging a different home for the child, which took time to arrange and necessitated the involvement of the Ministry as technically none of the staff of Hogwarts had the authority to interfere with a student's life outside of school.

Albus sighed. That was probably what had Minerva in such a tizzy.

"What is the matter, my dear?" he asked, already exhausted by the idea of having to deal with Cornelius. Arranging for a Muggle-born to go to the right sort of family always required Albus' personal attention. With how Lucius Malfoy was already whispering in Cornelius' ear, Albus didn't dare attempt to delegate. It wouldn't do for the child to get any ideas about how the wizarding world needed to be, after all. "I'm sure that it is just a misunderstanding that is easily solved."

"A misunderstanding?!" Minerva hissed, sounding exactly like the cat she sometimes was. "Harry Potter is not answering his Hogwarts letter! I told you they were the worst sort of Muggles, Albus! And now the poor bairn is being denied his magical heritage!"

"Now, Minerva," Albus said, attempting to soothe his bristling Deputy, "I explained that it was the best place for him. A boy needs his family, after all. We'll just have to send someone to explain the necessity of young Harry attending Hogwarts."

"I don't think it will be that simple, Albus," Minerva argued. She still sounded worried, even if she wasn't as frazzled as she had been when she arrived. "The letters don't have a specific address on them, only the house address."

"That's impossible," Albus said without really thinking about it. The magic that addressed the letters always had a specific address. It was part of the tracking arithmancy that allowed the letters to automatically follow the student if they moved or went on holiday during the enrollment period. It wouldn't do for a child to miss attending with the correct age group, after all. Minerva thrusted her handful of letters at him without saying another word.

Each one was addressed to Mr. Harry Potter, Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

There was no bedroom listed, just as Minerva had claimed. Something heavy settled in Albus' gut at the irregularity. Magic only went awry when there was a reason for it, some outside force acting as a diversion or influence. The only thing Albus could know for certain was that the boy was still alive, because death would have prevented the letters from being sent at all.

"Oh, dear," Albus muttered through numb lips. "That is not good."

Thankfully, Minerva settled for merely raising an eyebrow at him instead of saying a word.

(^^)

"Harry Houdini Jenkins, get back here this minute!"

Jenkins didn't look up as the boy ran through his workshop in the wake of Eve's shouted demand. There was a scuffling noise as Harry ducked under one of the numerous tables crammed into the room, probably the one reserved specifically for Ezekiel's projects by the direction it came from. Jenkins sighed but otherwise continued to ignore any knowledge of the boy's hiding place. Maybe he should have let Ezekiel take Harry with him on the latest expedition instead of siding with Eve about Harry being too young to retrieve artifacts.

Then again, the thought of those two out in the world unsupervised made Jenkins shudder with horror. They certainly got into enough trouble just in the Library, riling everyone else up with pranks or petty thefts in a continuous bid to test themselves. The Library's archival magic helped control any magic (from Harry or any artifacts) and keep any consequences from getting out of hand. The outside world was a much different story.

Magic tended to be unpredictable even when properly controlled. Even after nearly six years of dedicated work with Cassandra, Harry's control still wasn't the best, especially when he was genuinely in duress. He was only ten or eleven after all. It stood to reason that a child, even one so innately connected with magic, would not be able to control such a wild universal force.

Jenkins had initially been hesitant about letting anyone use the Library's archives to learn magic—Judson's official stance on the subject had been something that Jenkins had spent centuries following after all—but it had become clear very quickly that Harry not learning to work and control his magic was not an option. As Cassandra had noted upon meeting Harry, the boy was even more saturated with the force than artifacts specifically created to access the ley lines. Moreover, the boy was like catnip for artifacts and his innate magic tended to amplify the magical effects around him, including everything that made up the Library.

One body swap and a magically fueled panic attack had been enough for all of them to agree that Harry needed training if he was going to continue living with them. (None of them had suggested attempting to return Harry to his relatives, the people who were responsible for the state he had been in when the Library had opened its Backdoor to him. Even now, years later, Harry was still smaller than he probably should be and occasionally had other issues stemming from the abuse.)

"Okay, Jenkins," Eve announced as she entered the room. Even dripping wet, she still looked unruffled, only a trace amount of frustration remaining. "I know the little trickster came this way. Where is he hiding?"

"I saw nothing," Jenkins answered without more than glancing up from the artifact that he was attempting to improve. "Maybe he's with Miss Cillian? Or Mr. Stone?"

"Cassandra popped out to visit Gabriella, and Jacob is visiting that settlement of lizard-people we discovered last month," Eve corrected stoically. She crossed her arms as she began tapping her foot. "And before you even try, Flynn and Ezekiel are both out on missions. So where's the small fry hiding?"

"The Library is rather large—"

"Bucket of water balloons over the kitchen door, Jenkins," Eve interrupted, "and I'm pretty sure at least a few of them had that color-changing potion that Cassandra taught him last week in them."

Now that she had mentioned it, Jenkins could smell the hint of violets coming off of her. He looked at her more closely. She was getting gradually more purple. Jenkins inwardly preened with pride in his ward. Purple was the most difficult color to get the potion to turn human skin. Eve sighed as if she regretted all of her life choices.

"You're not going to give him away, are you?" Eve commented. Jenkins pressed a hand over his ever-beating heart.

"I'm aghast that you even consider such a betray an option, milady!"

"I could have had a nice, sensible life with NATO," Eve grumbled, mostly to herself. She flicked some of the potion at him. "Instead, I'm turning purple."

"It's a very lovely shade," Jenkins reassured her. The former colonel raised an eyebrow at him before leaving to continue her search elsewhere. Alone again (mostly), he turned back to his project only to spot a new gear just at the edge of his project mat. Jenkins sighed as his heart swelled with a sudden burst of affection and pride. Harry was really coming along in his evasion training if he could sneak across the room without Eve noticing. "And that is exactly what I needed."

A stifled giggle came from under the table, not that Jenkins elected to give away that he had heard. After all, Eve could still be watching.

(^^)

"Explain again why I must be the one to accompany you," Severus demanded as they walked from the Apparation point to the Dursley residence. "I have precious little time for my own projects during the year. I should not have to deal with children during the summer."

Albus resisted sighing. He had already explained multiple times why he needed Severus on this visit instead of Minerva. Albus did not know what he was going to find at the Dursley household and therefore could not risk giving Minerva any reason to question his decisions further than she already did. Besides, given their mutual history, Petunia might be more forthcoming with information with Severus than himself.

Luckily, the nondescript little house where Harry Potter should be living was already within eyesight, saving Albus from reiterating the situation yet again to the Potions professor. Merlin, Albus had forgotten just how dull the neighborhood was. It was obvious how far removed from the magical world it was. Its mundaneness was practically painful.

Even more eager to get this over with, Albus rapped on the door to Number Four. He waited a few moments before knocking again. He was just about to knock a third time when the neighbor came out onto her own porch.

"Nobody lives there anymore," she called out kindly. "It's been empty since the scandal."

"Do you know where they went?" Albus questioned, moving closer to the hedge separating the two properties. Severus huffed irritably but followed. The move must be fairly recent, given how well kept the property was. "It's imperative that we find the family that used to live here."

"Well, I heard that Vernon ended up in prison on the embezzling charge," she said excitedly, like a gossiping hen. "The county took the boy for a bit—completely understandable given what they were accused of, if you ask me!—but last I heard, they had given him back to Petunia. I think they moved in with Vernon's sister in York."

"I'm afraid that I'm not understanding, Miss …"

"Mrs. Pinkerton," the woman filled in helpfully. Albus nodded to show that he had heard.

"What were who accused of, Mrs. Pinkerton?"

"Why, murdering their nephew, of course," she explained. "The poor little guy went missing one day, right after the county worker visited the Dursleys. There had been some reports made by concerned citizens, you see."

"Oh, dear," Albus said, feeling the numbness returning. This was nowhere near good. "If Harry went missing, why do you think he was murdered? Let alone by his own family?"

"During the investigation, all sorts of things came out," Mrs. Pinkerton answered with the same gossipy glee as before, "like how Vernon was unable to account for some rather large sums of money being deposited into his account or how they didn't have any paperwork proving that they were even related to young Harry let alone had legal custody. There had been rumors about where the boy came from, you know, given his complexion, but no one dared ask."

"Heaven forbid," Severus agreed drily. Albus glanced at him, taking in the blank expression on the younger man's face. "One must not ask how a dark-skinned child could possibly be related to a white couple, because it couldn't possibly be exactly what they said it was. Idiot."

"Severus," Albus chided, "there is no need to be rude."

"The boy ran away, Albus," Severus argued, "and in doing so caused his relatives no end of inconvenience. Obviously, he's just like his father, selfish to the core."

"Well, I never!" Mrs. Pinkerton exclaimed, clearly offended. "They worked that boy like he was a slave! They were always calling him such vile names, too! And he was always so small—even smaller than children that age normally are! It was unnatural, I tell you, simply unnatural! There was a reason for those reports! If the poor boy ran away, then the last thing it would have been is selfish! What kind of monster are you?"

"I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding," Albus interjected, hoping to divert the upset woman's attention from Severus. This situation was spiraling out of control. Thank Merlin that Minerva was not here to see. "They're the boy's only family."

"Being family does not mean that they had to care," she snapped, including Albus in her offended glare now. "It also doesn't mean that they couldn't be cruel. Even if they didn't actually murder that little boy, then he's still probably dead. What five-year-old could survive on his own?"

"You're mistaken, my dear," Albus corrected gently. "Young Harry is going to be eleven tomorrow."

"Would that have been his birthday?" she questioned. "They never celebrated it and then he went missing shortly after Dudley's fifth birthday."

"But it couldn't have been that long," Albus argued with a sweeping gesture towards the upkept property that had once belonged to the Dursleys. Mrs. Pinkerton looked over the yard as well.

"My Tony does a good job, don't they?" Her ire gave way to her obvious pride. "They run a little gardening business, but they upkeep the old Dursley house for free. Their rates are very reasonable! Let me get their card for you."

Albus and Severus left while she was still in her house. They had a Boy-Who-Lived to find, after all.

(^^)

Jenkins admired how efficiently Eve could marshal the Librarians when she put her mind to it. Librarians were naturally easily distracted even at the best of times. Add in any bit of personal excitement and getting them to focus became next to impossible (outside of impending catastrophe; those worked wonders for gathering scattered Librarian thoughts). Yet Eve had Flynn, Jacob, and Ezekiel completely focused on getting the Annex's meeting room completely set up for what was going to be a belated party for their youngest resident.

It was a month late this year, because of the tensions between the dragon clans had distracted all of them from keeping track of what day it was until Gabriella had mentioned needing Harry to visit the retreat to give him her gift this year. It was a sad state of affairs when a centuries old vampire kept better track of time than the living. At least Jenkins had the excuse being immortal—honestly after the first century, days did sort of blend together—but the others in their little mismatched family had been spilling over themselves to make up forgetting the anniversary of Harry's arrival.

Of course, Harry's surprise that they still considered it important had stung, like a scab busting open unexpectedly. The boy had come such a long way from the skittish waif that the Library had stolen that reminders of the scars left behind by how his previous guardians had treated could feel like they came out of nowhere sometimes. That first year had been the hardest, especially with how terrified Harry had acted any time Eve would bark an order. Seeing Harry so frightened and tiny but standing in place and bracing for a blow had told them a great deal about what he had been taught to expect as punishments for infractions, despite being so young. Maybe if Harry had been an average child with average intelligence, six years would have been enough to completely erase those lessons.

But Harry was not average.

He was a Librarian.

"Are you certain that we're going to have enough food?" Eve fussed as Jacob set up yet another serving tower of berry tartlets. There were stepped risers with plates of other little tea-foods on the long table, including the cucumber finger-sandwiches that Harry loved. "There's just the seven of us? That are going to be eating, that is. Ezekiel? Jenkins?"

"No way I'm inviting Mum to the Annex," Ezekiel said as he emptied a container of sherbet into the bowl of punch. "You remember what happened last time she visited."

"Jeff is coming," Jenkins answered, deciding not to comment on the referenced incident, "but the rest of the group have to work. They appointed Jeff as courier for their gifts. The ceremony was quite lovely."

With a practiced eye, Jenkins double-checked that all of the offerings that had meat in them were safely lumped together at one end. Likewise, the finger foods with cheese were gathered together and marked. Carefully separate from the human-edibles was a very small selection of blood-based options for Gabriella. The vampire had a far narrower range of dietary options than even a lactose intolerant vegetarian.

"When is Cassandra bringing the pipsqueak back?" Flynn asked in a high squeaky voice that suggested he had breathed in a bit of the helium he was supposed to be using to inflate balloons. Eve frowned at her bondmate, obviously calculating whether it was worth pointing that part out.

"Miss Cillian and Harry should be arriving at any time," Jenkins said before Eve could come to a decision. "I set—"

An annoying buzz sounded throughout the room before he got a chance to mention the alarm he had set up if anyone approached any of the entrances to the Annex or Library. After the whole bodyswap incident that had happened shortly after Harry's unorthodox adoption, Jenkins had added spiritual exchanges to the default list of ways to entered both. Jenkins gestured to the ceiling, already headed towards the Annex's central office to check who had arrived. Ezekiel pitched the empty sherbet containers and soda bottles into the bin for recycling awaiting cleaning and followed.

It was neither the group coming from Gabriella's retreat nor Jeff, though the two men were at the front door. The basement-dwelling imposter had better not have swapped bodies with anyone else or Jenkins might personally feed him to a bog monster. Ezekiel hopped up on the worktable beside the Scrapbook to better see the security feed.

"Are they wearing dresses?"

"Robes," Jenkins corrected automatically. "I would say Elizabethan era, except there's definitely modern influences on them, so it's more like a modern take on the style—though that color choice leaves much to be desired."

"Yeah, fuchsia isn't a good color for a base," Ezekiel agreed with a grimace. "I don't need Jake's aesthetic sense to see that. The black on the pasty bloke isn't much better, mind. Makes him look sick." They watched the pair consult a paper before the older of the two knocked again. "So, do we have any clue where these guys are from? Is there some super-secret society of robe wearers that we should know about?"

"I haven't the faintest," Jenkins said, "but they definitely aren't going away."

"EJ isn't even here, and we're late this year, but somehow, the pattern of his birthday going sideways is holding true. Cassie is gonna have kittens trying to figure out how."

"Oh, for the love of—" Jenkins cut off the swear as Ezekiel jumped off the table and dismissed the security projection before leaving to answer the door. Unthwarted, he called after the thief, "his name is Harry, not Ezekiel Junior!"

Ezekiel's laughter was more than a bit uncalled for, really.

Jenkins looked around the room to verify that the more obviously magical things were properly stowed out of sight. The only exception was the mechanism for the Door, which was bolted very securely to the floor near the Library's doors. Never again could the complex globe be stolen in less than a minute. Ezekiel really should have known better than to invite his mother to the Library and tell her about the magical device capable of rendering mundane security measures moot. It had been one of the first things he had thought about when Jenkins had presented the cobbled-together contraption.

"Jenkins, may I present our guests?" Ezekiel announced with an exaggerated air of pompous formality. His accent had thickened in the few moments he had been gone, betraying his stirring temper. "Fuchsia here is a headmaster of some school, and Smiley is one of the teachers. They're looking for a missing kid and think we might know where he is."

With a negligent motion, Ezekiel returned to his perch beside the Scrapbook. This time he was turned to have both a view of the Library doors that light up at any time with the portal from Gabriella's retreat in South America and the two men. Jenkins breathed in deeply, determined to keep himself calm. It would not do to give into the panic beginning to pound through him at the idea of Harry being forced to return to his previous guardians. No one was going to allow that; it wasn't going to happen.

He would die before letting Harry be taken from their family.

The obnoxious music of a game interrupted his thoughts. Ezekiel had pulled out his phone and turned the volume uncharacteristically loud. Jenkins breathed again. Of course the Librarian had already texted for backup and knew exactly how to signal to Jenkins that he had without alerting their guests. The Australian had probably even sent a text warning Cassandra to wait a bit before returning, though signal strength in the mountains around the retreat wasn't the best. Jenkins just had to focus on the diplomatically handling their guests, no different from any other gathering in the Library.

"I apologize for Mr. Jones' flippancy," Jenkins said drawing on centuries of tact. "What are you really called and how may I help you gentlemen today?"

"I am Albus Dumbledore," the older man said. Something in his tone reminded Jenkins of how Lancelot had always spoken, as if he was used to his reputation opening doors. The remnant of old rivalries had Jenkins automatically straightening into a battle-ready posture. "I am the headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Jenkins echoed. That did explain a lot of, well, everything. He hadn't heard anything from those four troublemakers since Helga's missive about Salazar's disappearance. "The school is still open?"

"You've heard of Hogwarts?"

"It has been a very long time," he admitted, drawing a snort from Ezekiel for the understatement. "What brings representatives from a magic school to our humble corner of the world?"

Jenkins could feel Ezekiel's judgement in every dingy tap of his phone as he relayed that information to the other Librarians. No doubt Flynn and Eve would have things to say about Jenkins withholding information from them, but honestly, he was halfway through his second millennium of life. There was a lot of time to accumulate information. The past existence of magical schools had never been relevant, especially since it had been over four centuries since he had heard of any.

"I'm afraid that we have a missing student," Dumbledore said, clearly setting aside questioning how Jenkins knew about the school or magic. Jenkins was thankful for the reprieve even as it left him wondering if the pair was aware of where they were. "He wandered off a few years ago—" The man with Dumbledore snorted in a far more dismissive way than Ezekiel had. "—and we were unaware until recently. We set about tracking him immediately, which led us to here."

"If he wandered off a few years ago," Ezekiel demanded, "how are you just now finding out that a student is missing? Do you all not do regular headcounts?"

"His invitation letter went unanswered," Dumbledore answered undisturbed by Ezekiel's belligerent tone. "He is due to start this autumn."

"Then he's not a student yet, is he?"

"Do you even have schools in Australia" the other man asked caustically, "or do you murderers leave it to the parents?"

"Wanna say that again, mate?" Ezekiel demanded, hopping off the table. He advanced on the sour-faced man. "You forget that it was you Brits who—"

"Jones," Eve snapped as she strode into the room. Flynn and Jacob were right behind her, even if they did break off as she went to pull Ezekiel out of the man's face. Effortlessly, the Guardian managed to place herself between the two. Her face was hard when she turned her back towards Ezekiel to face down their guests. Only her eyes betrayed her fury as she immediately took command of the situation. "Let's start this from the beginning. I'm Eve Baird, and you are…?"

"Albus Dumbledore," the old man repeated, a tiny trace of annoyance lacing his voice, "and I am looking for a missing student."

"And your companion?" Eve asked. Flynn drifted around the edges of the room, as if the conversation happening was utterly boring. Periodically, he would pause and fidget with something in the space or brush his fingers over the intricate carvings in the woodwork. The sense of ambient magic in the air shifted from passive sleepiness to attentive watching. Jacob settled with his arms crossed on the stairs to the bookshelf-filled loft. "Is he also looking for this missing student?"

"Severus is helping me, yes," Dumbledore agreed. His blue eyes twinkled the same way that Lancelot's always had when he was seducing yet another maiden to his bed. The urge to punch the man in is his already-crooked nose almost overwhelmed Jenkins for a moment. "Professor Snape teaches Potions."

"You trust him around little kids?" Ezekiel asked, disgusted with the idea. Jenkins silently agreed. The man had a foul temper and an even fouler tongue. The idea of him anywhere near children was inherently disturbing.

"I trust Severus with my life," Dumbledore said, obviously thinking that would reassure them instead of the exact opposite. "Now, as I was saying: we are looking for a missing student. He's of Indian descent but has green eyes. He would have just turned eleven."

"That's a fairly vague description," Flynn said, still seeming to be distracted. "Does this mysterious kid have a name? Maybe an identifying trait other than an unusual eye color for someone of his race? Not that green eyes aren't already an unusual eye color in themselves, given that only 2% of the world's population have them. Well, it's probably a higher concentration in Iceland, but then 80% of the population of Iceland has blue eyes which is the base genetic requirement for the gray and green variation. It would stand to reason that they would also have a higher concentration of people with green eyes—"

"Flynn, honey," Eve interrupted without looking towards the man, "you're rambling."

"Right," Flynn agreed. "Shutting up." The silence lasted just a heartbeat. "Actually, you know what keeps going through my head? You refer to the kid as a student, but then you also say that you only know that he was missing because he hadn't answered his invitation letter. Now I may not be well-versed in how magical school works, but I do happen to have a few doctorates under my belt—" Everyone except for their guests choked a bit at that description. Flynn had a few doctorates like Jenkins had lived a little longer than was normal. "—and it has been my experience that one has to actually accept their invitation in order to be something. Ergo, he can't be your student. Which begs the question—" Flynn turned towards Dumbledore, suddenly laser-focused in the way that only a Librarian with the full backing of the Library could be. "Why are you really looking for him?"

"A child is missing, Mr. …?"

"Carsen," Flynn answered the unspoken question, "and it's doctor, several times over, as I just mentioned. More importantly, because I think you're dangerously ignorant of where you are and who you're talking to, I'm the Librarian."

"A Librarian," Jacob corrected, not moving from his seat. Ezekiel echoed the correction as he stepped around Eve to glare at them. With all the karmic timing Jenkins had come to expect from the Library, the Door swung open, spilling bright sunlight into the windowless room as Cassandra stepped through with all the authority of a priestess approaching the altar of her god. Her blue eyes swept the assembled group, measuring, as the sunshine turned her hair in a halo of red-orange flames.

"Did Flynn claim to be the only Librarian again?" she asked lightly. "I thought we had finally trained that out of him. Maybe we should revisit the spray bottle idea?"

"Technically," came a quiet voice from the still open door, "since Flynn is tethered to the Library, he is the Librarian, even if he's still only one of four Librarians. Just like Eve is the Guardian, even if there is another one running around with the same authority. That's not even including whatever we're calling Jenkins' role today."

"I prefer Custodian," Jenkins said, taking care to sound especially lofty because it would make Harry smile. "It sounds so much better than babysitter."

"I'm not a baby," said the Librarians in unison.

Eve rolled her eyes even as Harry took the opportunity to tuck himself against her side. She ran a hand over his braided hair, giving the end a playful tug before settling her arm over his shoulders. The child was clearly using the half-embrace to get a better look at their visitors, but Jenkins knew that Eve didn't have the heart to turn Harry away, not even to protect him. Even with all the improvement, the fear she had inspired in that first year had left an impression on the Guardian.

"Ah," Dumbledore said, "there you are, Harry. You gave us all quite the fright, running off like that."

"I'm sorry," Harry said very politely, "but I don't know who you are, and I didn't run off. I went with Cassie to visit Gabriella. Both Eve and Jenkins knew where I was, so I don't know why they would be worried."

"I meant your family, my dear boy. You caused many problems when you disappeared, Harry."

"Like he cares," Snape commented. His black eyes glittered coldly as he glared at Harry. Jenkins could see Ezekiel glaring at the man over Harry's head. "The boy is clearly just like his father: arrogant and full of himself. What happened, Potter? Did your aunt not let you have enough sweets? Did she take away your favorite toy?"

Harry looked confused at the vitriol being aimed at him, especially since the man was a complete stranger. He opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was a wheezy squeak. Harry shuddered before leaning harder against Eve's side. Through it all, everyone was bristling at Snape's cruel words…everyone except his companion who looked unperturbed that a professor at his school was snapping at a child who was the age to attend said school.

Instead the old man was pulling a wrinkled wax bag out of his blindingly bright robes. Jenkins hoped that it had been in a bizarrely placed pocket and not tucked against his skin. Call him a prude, but that thought did not sit any better than the idea of Harry attending Hogwarts did. Maybe the situation would have been different if Helga was still in charge of the school, but this man clearly had difficulties reigning in his teachers. Unaware of Jenkins' thoughts, Dumbledore tipped the opening of the bag towards Harry.

"Lemon drop?" He looked disappointed when Harry refused with a silent shake of his head, but he tucked the bag away without pressuring the boy to take one of the candies. Then he pulled out a folded bit of parchment that had been folded into an envelope and sealed with green wax. He offered the letter to Harry. "Might as well deliver this before we leave. I'm sure you're very excited to finally be getting it."

"What is it?" Cassandra asked as Harry took the letter without pulling away from Eve's side. Snape's thin lips twisted into a sneer. Jacob straightened his posture, obviously reaching the end of his patience with the man. "Is that really parchment? Like, actual parchment, not just really rough paper? Didn't it go out of style in the 14th Century? I didn't even realize that people still made it!"

"It's Harry's invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Dumbledore announced grandly. A flash of excitement crossed Cassandra's freckled face at the mention of an entire school for learning magic. Just as quickly, that excitement turned to horror. Obviously, her Librarian intellect had just made the connection between the two strangers and the school.

"You…you're from Hogwarts, aren't you?"

"I'm the headmaster," Dumbledore said, far more pleased to be repeating the information this time despite how Cassandra looked like she was going to be ill. Gabriella came up behind her and placed a hand on her back in silent support. Dumbledore gestured towards his companion. "My colleague teaches Potions."

"You allow him around children?" Cassandra covered her mouth with both of her hands as the blood drained from her face. Gabriella rubbed her back while baring her fangs at the headmaster, just as disgusted.

"I trust Severus with my life," Dumbledore repeated, as if that negated the other man's venomous tongue. Jenkins was getting very tired of this man's presence. "Thank you for taking care of young Harry. I'm sure that his aunt will be very grateful once they are reunited."

"Like hell," Jacob snapped at the same time that Ezekiel said, "not happening, mate."

"I'm afraid that you don't understand," Dumbledore said softly, as if they were the ones confused. "Harry must return to his aunt, especially with how long he's been out of her home, before he must leave for Hogwarts in a month. As long as he calls his aunt's home, he will be safe."

"Like hell he was ever safe there," Jacob growled, jumping to his feet. He slammed his hands flat against the worktable separating him from the rest of the crowd. "He ain't going back to 'em, and he ain't attending Hogwarts."

The rising tension in the room was clearly getting to Harry who was trembling so hard that the open letter in his hand was flapping. Eve shifted them both away from Dumbledore. The move put Ezekiel and Jenkins closer to the wizards and Eve even with Cassandra and Gabriella. It also meant that the vampire had a clear path to the still open Door, should the need to get Harry even farther away arise. Flynn was standing beside the Door mechanism, clearly ready to shut it down after they were through.

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said, though his tone indicated that he was not sorry in the least, "but there really isn't any choice in the matter. Harry must live with his aunt, and he must attend Hogwarts. It's for the Greater Good."

"I don't think you're getting it, mate," Ezekiel argued. "Your 'greater good' can go hang for all we care. Harry's not going anywhere with you, especially not if you plan on sending him back to, to, to—" He cut himself off with a grunt. "He's not going anywhere with you, so rack off."

"I understand that you have all come to care for Harry very much," Dumbledore acknowledged, letting his voice take on a trace of regret. Jenkins could have laughed at the obvious falseness of it. Did the old man ever manage to fool anyone with his acting? "But it does not change anything. Harry will return to his aunt before attending Hogwarts in September."

"Why?" Flynn asked. The question cut through a lot of the tension in the room.

"You dare question—"

"Now, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted, which instantly made Snape stop his tirade. Clearly, Dumbledore's lack of interference before was not because he couldn't control the man. "It is a fair question. These people took young Harry in after his untimely departure from his relatives. They deserve some explanation for their trouble." He patted Snape on the arm cordially.

"Harry cannot remain untrained," Dumbledore continued. "Magic can be very dangerous if uncontrolled. Harry is exceptionally powerful, which means that he—and those around him—are at even greater risk should his magic get away from him."

"Harry is an exceptional student," Cassandra said. Her bright smile was a little bit sharper than normal as she aimed her next words at Snape. "He's especially good at potions. His control over his magic is still a little shaky at times, but he has improved leaps and bounds since we started training. I do not see that trend changing any time soon. What does your school have that he could not get from his private tutorage here? This is the Library, after all."

"Hogwarts is the finest school in the wizarding world," Dumbledore said, fully confident that his words would be believed without question. Every official Librarian choked back snorts of laughter. A flash of irritation crossed the old man's face.

"Maybe it is," Jacob said, taking up the argument. "It probably ain't, if you're allowing Snickers there anywhere near the kids, but let's accept that it's the best school the wizarding world has to offer. Harry's not your average student. Even before factoring in your claim that he's powerful—which I agree with, because I've seen the kid in action—Harry's beyond simply smart. Kid's a genius, and he's been raised around other genii. Do you really think you're set up to handle that?"

"We can handle the braggart just fine," Snape said before Dumbledore could speak up. "We won't indulge his every whim or tolerate his ego, but we're more than capable of keeping the boy occupied." He smiled nastily at them. "With detention, if nothing else."

"Hard to be braggart when you're the best," Ezekiel pointed out. "Not that you probably know anything about that, being such a raw prawn yourself." The thief rolled his shoulders to release some of the tension. Then he hopped up to sit on the worktable again, still keeping himself between Harry and the pair from Hogwarts. "But I would because I'm the best at what I do. Harry's gonna give me a run for my money in the next couple of years. Do you really think we'd let him go with you and let his mad skills languish?"

"Hogwarts is perfectly capable of teaching Harry whatever he needs to know." Dumbledore sighed before removing his half-moon glasses to rub his nose. "I understand that this is distressing, but there is no other option. Harry will be attending Hogwarts, and he will be returning to his aunt."

"Over my dead body," Jenkins vowed. The Library picked up the words, echoing them, hammering them in place like nails into wood. He made sure to meet Dumbledore's eyes, batting away the mental probe sent his way with the ease of swatting away a fly. "Regardless of who and what he was before, Harry is now ours, and he belongs in here."

"Why?" Snape demanded petulantly. Jenkins didn't bother looking at the petty man who was clearly bitter over something and willing to take it out on Harry. Instead, he addressed his answer to Dumbledore.

"Where else would a Librarian belong," Jenkins said as Flynn activated the banishing wards, "but in the Library?"

The magic bore down on the intruders before they disappeared with a loud crack. The Door sputtered and detached, plunging the room back to indoor lighting as the sunshine disappeared. The mechanism sparked before releasing a curl of dark purple smoke into Flynn's face. Jenkins would have sighed at needing to repair it yet again but he was busy catching Harry as the boy leapt at him. Thin limbs wrapped around him like steel cables. Jenkins cradled the back of Harry's head, pressing kisses to his temple and whispering reassurances.

"Every year, without fail," Ezekiel commented. "His birthday and Halloween, something always goes hinky. I'm telling ya: EJ is jinxed."

"His name is Harry," Eve said more out of habit than anything else, "not Ezekiel Junior."

Weak but relieved laughter spilled from everyone. Despite everything, it really was just another Tuesday in the Library.