Disclaimer: The Magical world as portrayed in the 'Harry Potter' books belongs to JK Rowling (and publisher's, warner bros. et.al), as do some of the character's, places, spells etc. that are mentioned in this story. Many of the character's, places etc., are my own creations but I'm simply working off of JK's brilliance, which I certainly cannot match. Okay, don't sue me I have no money.

A Brief Explanation: This is the first fiction of any kind that I've written. A friend advised me to explain a bit before I start, so…This story begins on Christmas break of Harry's 5th year..ie: OOTP. You'd figure it out but I'll mention that I invented a character and placed him in Harry's year. I can hear many people out there screaming blasphemy, and I understand that. I picked a letter for a last name which 'in theory' just might not have been heard being sorted in 'Philosopher's Stone.' (I do realize that Jo knows every student in Harry's year, I'm just asking for a slight suspension of disbelief.) Also he's in Ravenclaw, so no wonder we've never seen him. At any rate you'll realize at the end of this chapter that the story is going somewhere, and hopefully I'll be allowed my little bit of blasphemous freedom. I think that's all I need to say, I hope you enjoy. Oh yeah…my character's name is kind of weird, but that'll be explained and dealt with in the next chapter so just bear with me…this is the introductory chapter. I knew if I put an explanation in hear I'd ramble on and start to be self-depricating. OK…I'm done.

CHAPTER 1: Surprises

Plymouth is a city on the southern coast of England where you can find many things from stunning ocean views, to fine dining, nautical supplies, much of the British Navy, and, if you know where to look, wizards. There are a few wizarding families living in and around Plymouth including the family Indree who are the focus of this story.

Daedalus Jamison Indree was standing alone in a rather crowded King's Cross station having just returned through the barrier from platform nine and three quarters to find his mother nowhere in sight. She hadn't been waiting on the platform with the other parent's either. The crowd bustled around him carrying Christmas bundles, chattering loudly, and all looking rather strained. He wondered if she might have forgotten that he was coming home from Hogwart's for Christmas. He couldn't think why she would forget, seeing as how he always came home for the holidays. Except of course for last year when the Tri-Wizard tournament took place and he had stayed at school. His mother had insisted he do so. Her reasoning was that it would be an ideal time to make new friends or perhaps even find a girlfriend. He ended up finding neither, although he had talked to a few of the Beauxbatons students including a fair skinned boy named Etienne with whom he seemed to share some common interests. Yes, this time she knew he was coming home.

It was now more than an hour after his arrival in King's Cross and Daedalus was growing tired of waiting. Not to mention tired of the strained holiday traveler's who kept bumping into him. Quite happy that he had only packed a travel bag and not his whole trunk he decided to head to the Leaky Cauldron and travel home via floo powder. He took the underground to The Leaky Cauldron which did nothing to keep him from being bumped around by people. At one point the car was so crowded that he was jammed against the wall and a portly man holding four large packages had the nerve to tell him to make space. Daedalus supposed this is why the Statute of Secrecy was invented, to prevent wizards from turning impatient muggles into Christmas decorations, as he was strongly thinking of doing.

As Daedalus entered The Leaky Cauldron Tom, the wizened and stooping barman greeted him while wiping a nearby table. 'How are you today?' He asked offering Daedalus a seat at the table he had just been wiping. 'Where's your mother?' he said, smiling toothlessly.

'I'm not sure actually, she wasn't there to pick me up from the train.' Daedalus shrugged his shoulders and caught his face in the mirror behind the bar. He was looking pale; he always looked that way, as though he were recently getting over the flu. He had a thin face, rather full lips (which relatives praised as his great feature), and deep blue eyes that were hidden behind a pair of glasses that curved round and covered his peripheral vision. These glasses were known as 'all-covers' because they wrapped around the eyes almost to the temples. They were invented originally as an aid for Auror's who had lost some parts of their vision in the line of duty. The lenses in Daedalus' glasses served a different function, though most wizards assumed he must have been hit by a bad conjunctivitis curse. Indeed that was the story his mother told. He watched himself scratch his short, cosmically dark hair in the mirror before turning back to Tom.

'I don't suppose you've seen her today?' he asked.

Tom smiled again and shook his head. 'I'm afraid not lad. Perhaps she's gone in to the ministry?'

Daedalus smiled slightly. 'Yes, that's probably it. She always gets called in. It would have been nice if she could have let me know though,' he shrugged his shoulders for the second time and decided to have some soup before traveling home again.

After his delicious onion soup Tom gave Daedalus a pinch of floo powder to use for the trip which he flat out refused to accept payment for. Daedalus smiled and thanked Tom, threw the powder into the fire place where it burst into sparkling green flames. He stepped inside the fire and said clearly: 'Number 33B, Hartley Road, Plymouth'.

It became clear as he stepped out of the fireplace that his mother was not at home. The living room was empty and none of the lamps were lit. The wizarding wireless wasn't on. If his mother were home the wireless would most definitely be on. She listened to it incessantly and much to Daedalus' annoyance. On occasion The Weird Sister's were played which lessened his annoyance a little, but only a little.

Daedalus and his mother Romalda had been living in Plymouth since Daedalus' father had died in a car accident ten years prior. Up to that point they had been residing in Liverpool in a house that the company his father worked for provided. Daedelus' father Fred Indree was a muggle, who was originally from Canada but had moved the UK for his work as a bank executive. According to his mother, she had met Fred, or Frederick, after he accidentally knocked her over while in London for meetings. His mother had been on her way home from visiting a friend in St. Mungo's when she turned a corner and ran into a large, solid man who proceeded to apologize profusely. This incident began a conversation which was continued on to a lunch, then to two years of dating and then, to marriage. She had told Fred she was a witch early on, though he didn't believe her at first. It wasn't until she became frustrated by his lack of belief and vanished his clothes right off him one night that belief sunk in. He didn't seem to mind, though they decided on separate wedding ceremonies, and he insisted that when their children were born they should be raised to know muggle life as well, especially in case they turned out to not be wizards. Up to his father's death Daedalus' had lived as balanced a life as one such as he could possibly hope to. He went to Liverpool football matches with his dad as well as the occasional Quidditch match, typically featuring Puddlemere United, and he took gymnastics lessons at the muggle community center. But life happens, and things changed. His father died, and his mother and he moved to Plymouth, into a flat above a no longer open Nautical supply store called Patch N' Peg's. It was here that they had lived for the past ten years, and it was here in the kitchen, where Daedalus sat at the table wondering why his mother hadn't picked him up at King's Cross.

How he had fallen asleep, or for how long he wasn't sure but he was awoken by the sound of the door opening and the familiar clunking noise of his mother dropping her green dragon skin briefcase. He had been having the strangest dream. His father had been in it, he was mouthing soundlessly while pointing a wand at Daedalus' mother who seemed extremely angry, brandishing her own wand. They seemed to be floating in the air above the Hogwart's Quidditch pitch, and Dumbledore was there, or was it just some other old wizard in half-moon spectacles. The recollection of the dream faded as he shook off his drowsiness.

As his mother entered the dark kitchen wearing a thick wool travel cloak and scarf, she flicked her wand to light the lamps and pulled off her scarf looking rather ruffled. The kitchen was one of the smaller rooms in the flat though it was one of the nicer ones. His mother had put a lot of work into their home over the years and was quite proud to show it off to the various wizards and witches who made visits. The kitchen featured marble countertops, glass fronted oak cabinets with a sink that featured elaborate silver fixtures beneath a bright window. In the corner was a round wooden four seated mahogany table, where Daedalus was still sitting trying to pretend he wasn't groggy.

'Hi mum,' he managed to stammer, then gave his head a good shake and blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

'Aren't you going to ask why I didn't pick you up today?' She asked in an agitated voice. She was looking agitated too, Daedalus thought. She usually wore her auburn hair drawn up into a bun but it seemed to have dropped out in places. There also seemed to be a fair amount of dirt on her, and he noticed that there were some small scratches on her hand. Daedalus often overheard people refer to his mother as being very pretty. He supposed he agreed, though a son never likes to think of their own mother in such a way. He did acknowledge that she had a stately heir, one of confidence and grace. Wondering why he hadn't inherited these qualities he responded to her question.

'Well, I wondered,' he managed to say before she cut across him.

'Oh, of course you wondered. You do lots of wondering don't you? You should try doing instead of wondering and reading books sometime. It would make for a nice change!'

His eyebrows rose instantly at this behavior. His mother didn't usually snap at him like this, at least not without provocation.

'Er … Mum … is something the matter?'

She gave him a look that plainly told him he'd asked a stupid question. He knew the answer was obvious but she didn't seem like she was going to volunteer any information.

'Yes! Obviously!' After these words she seemed to realize that she was taking her frustration out on an innocent person. She took a deep breath and attempted to master herself. 'I'm sorry dear, forgive me. It hasn't been a pleasant day.'

'S'alright. Do you want some tea? Do you want to talk about it?' He attempted a friendly smile after these words, which was difficult as he was still a bit flustered by her immediate verbal assault.

She returned the smile and sat down rubbing her hands over her face as she did so. She reached back and untied her hair so that the rest of it fell out of the bun and landed just below her shoulders. Healing the cuts on her hand with her wand she smiled and nodded gracefully.

'Tea would be wonderful, thank you. I'm not sure if there's much point in talking about it. It's just the same old thing really. I go into the Ministry for one task and they try to send me on five others while I'm there. Honestly, I'm getting really sick of it. I tried to get out of it dear, I really did. But they needed someone to accompany a trainee obliviator on a call and there was apparently no one else. As it turns out,' she made a gesture towards her dirty robes and her recently healed hands, 'the address of the calls got mixed up and I ended up with a rampaging mountain Troll.' She heaved a massive sigh as Daedalus put a cup of tea in front of her. 'The joys of being a freelance witch with the Ministry of Magic,' she added, with a severe indication of sarcasm.

'Perhaps you could ask for a job in one department?' he suggested.

'No I don't think that will work. I'm too useful for my own good when it comes to the ministry. I'm tired of it I'll admit, but at least it's not boring.' She added a hollow laugh at the end of this sentence. 'I'm almost regretting not applying for the Defense against the Dark Arts job at Hogwart's.'

Daedalus, who had been groggily drinking the last of his tea, spluttered and sprayed his tea onto the table. He simply gaped at her from behind his 'all-cover' specs. 'What?' He exclaimed in disbelief.

'Didn't I tell you dear?' She replied.

"Didn't I tell you dear?" She said that an awful lot. Either her memory is horrible or she just doesn't think I'm worth informing he thought. You'd think she'd tell me something like that, something that important, something that affects me as well.

'No you didn't tell me!' He had ceased being groggy now though he spoke a bit louder than he meant to.

'I only considered it briefly. Though I admit if Dumbledore had asked me personally I might have taken the job.' She rolled her eyes up a little as though thinking about something. 'I remain rather surprised that he didn't approach me for the job.' It seemed as though she was talking more to herself now. 'I wonder why he didn't.'

It was not as though he wanted his mother as a Professor at Hogwart's but he still felt angry about this sudden disclosure. Not only had she withheld this piece of information (one which you'd think would be discussion worthy), but her not applying left the job vacant for that complete waste of a wand Dolores Umbridge. Being taught by your own mother would be a small price to pay to be rid of Umbridge and all her High Inquisitor shite, he thought. He was still at a loss to explain how the Ministry got away with employing such a useless professor. His mother seemed to be reading his expression, because she said:

'Assuming Dumbledore hired me, there would still be the issue of Fudge and his insane fears. He would likely have asked me to do what Dolores has been doing, or seen to it that Dolores was installed anyway,' she grinned slightly at the look of indignance on her son's face, 'yes, she's an interesting piece of work isn't she.'

This statement resulted in a long withheld verbal assault on everything having to do with Dolores Umbridge: Everything from the horrible classes, to her role as High Inquisitor, her toad like appearance, horrible cardigans, and overall unpleasant demeanor. His mother did not stop him, she either grinned or nodded, or both, though she occasionally made disapproving faces if he swore. It was a bad habit of his, one which had his mother constantly washing out his mouth with the 'scourgify' spell when he was younger.

Once the ranting had finished she fixed him with a serious look in her hazel eyes. 'What surprises me is that the general community doesn't seem to see it for the blatant power grab that it is.' He often heard his mother give opinions and he knew better than to repeat them to anyone, in the current wizarding climate it would likely cost her her job. 'Of course, the wizarding community is often oblivious to things,' she added mysteriously.

Daedalus had been feeling sleepy again but was perked up at once by this ominous statement. He had never asked his mother whether she believed that Voldemort had returned, and she had never raised the subject. There was good reason for this as they hadn't spent much time together since last June. Daedalus had spent most of his summer vacation visiting his uncle Braz who lived in Andorra. His mother naturally stayed at home for work. The pair barely spent a week together before Daedalus' return to Hogwart's and in that time his mother seemed mainly concerned with finding out how much he had learned about Andorran wizarding history, not to mention making sure Uncle Braz hadn't been teaching him any inappropriate charms. It seems Uncle Braz possessed a reputation of sorts in that area. But now, the time finally seemed to have come to ask the question.

'Are you talking about Voldemort?' He asked before he could second guess himself.

'Say He Who Must Not Be Named!' She replied. 'And yes I suppose I was referring to that.'

'So you think he's back?'

'I do,' she said plainly, 'but what I think matters very little. For whatever reason, he hasn't come out into the open and until he does, I fear most will continue to think Dumbledore and that Potter kid have simply gone round the twist.'

He looked thoughtfully at the ceiling for a few minutes, which was tin and had an elaborately embossed design featuring various magical creatures. Wondering about Voldemort and what his return could mean. He had believed it last year as soon as Dumbledore had said it. If there was one person Daedalus saw fit to take the word of it was Albus Dumbledore.

'Do not mention this topic again,' she said, 'and don't give me that look (her son had put on a noticeable scowl). I have no interest in discussing it. I believe he is back, but for now there is nothing else to say and hopefully there never will be. Now go to bed, it's late and you have been nodding off for the past hour.'

It seemed like another sudden burst of anger had gripped his mother so Daedalus decided not to argue the point. Although getting some more thoughts from his mother on the topic of Voldemort would have been nice, he had to admit that he was tired and she was never going to say more than she already had. With a stifled yawn and a quiet 'goodnight' to his mother he left the kitchen, walked down the hallway full of snoozing portraits, entered the third door on the left and went to sleep.

He woke the next morning much earlier than he'd wanted to but the sun was shining so brightly, directly into his eyes that he knew he could never fall back to sleep. With a sigh of reluctance he rolled out of bed, threw a t-shirt on over his pyjama bottoms and was about to leave his room when the doorbell rang. He looked over at his alarm clock. It was 7:45, definitely much earlier than he wanted to be up on his first day of the Christmas holiday. On the other side of the door he could hear his mother making her way into the hall, heard her place something just outside his room then making her way to the door. Not wanting to have to speak to whoever was visiting, he quickly opened his bedroom door and grabbed the tray his mother had set outside on top of a little round table. He had just put the tray down when he realized there was a note on it. It simply said 'I shall return by ten o'clock, Mum.'

The silver tray that he had hurried into his room was laden with seven bottles of varying sizes, and all containing varying potions. There were three purple potions, one of which frothed, one which bubbled, and another which seemed to vibrate. There was also a fizzy pink potion, and three other potions which sat perfectly still within their bottles, one brown, one clear, and one a slightly darker shade of pink. Resigned to what he must do, he pinched his nose and downed all seven potions as quickly as he could, which was very quick indeed. He'd had plenty of practice over the years. Feeling utterly disgusted by the early hour and the foul after taste of the seven potions, he trumped his way to the kitchen to have some pumpkin juice and busied himself with The Daily Prophet. When it was nearly ten o'clock he decided to have a bath just in case his mother returned with a guest, or seven.

The tub was only half full when he heard his mother return. Daedalus had deliberately left the door cracked a little so as to hear her return. It seemed that his suspicions were correct, and she had brought a guest home with her. He quietly clicked the door shut and locked it. His mother considered this bathroom a sanctuary and had put a charm on it to make it sound proof. This meant he wouldn't be forced to over hear what was most likely to be a boring conversation about the inner workings of the ministry. Sanctuary might perhaps have been an understatement of the room. His mother had put much effort and galleons into it. It was entirely white marble, around the ceiling were moldings engraved with ancient rune symbols. The tub was large enough for five people and was set three steps up from the floor. A massive gold framed mirror stood in the corner, and there was another to match above the sink. The fixtures were all gold, and the room was lit by an elegant gold wrought chandelier. The bathroom made you forget you were in an average flat. Indeed it seemed more like a Roman bath house, rather than the toilet of a wizarding family.

As the tub was now full of warm water covered with purple foam and bubbles, Daedalus hastily got undressed. He had just stepped out of his underwear when there came an excited twitter from directly in front of him. He froze. Glancing up slightly what he feared became reality; his Grandmother was standing in her portrait looking down on him. In his haste Daedalus had forgotten he usually disrobed looking away from the portrait. Of course, she wasn't supposed to be there at all, she was supposed to go to her portrait in the sitting room when the bathroom was in use. Nevertheless, there she was, gazing intently and causing a massive blush of embarrassment to appear on her grand son's face.

'Oho!' She twittered in a voice more suited to a sixteen year old girl. She gave him the once over with her large eyes and then twittered on. 'Oh, you're becoming a man!' She exclaimed.

Unfrozen he leapt straight into the bath to hide himself. If he had ever been more embarrassed or disturbed he couldn't remember. As it was he was shocked that the water hadn't started boiling with the heat of his blush, which was now so red it gave him the look of a cooked lobster.

'I came to deliver a message dear. Your mother wishes you to hurry as she would rather allow our guest to use this toilet, as opposed to the other.'

Daedalus merely grunted his acknowledgement but the portrait didn't seem ready to leave just yet. It seemed she had not yet embarrassed him enough.

'There's no shame in growing up, you know. You're becoming a man, you should be proud, and it looks like you'll make a fine man.' And with that last twittering sentiment she left the portrait. There is no shame in growing up or becoming a man, he thought fleetingly as he washed his hair. Having your grandmother catch you naked and proceed to comment on your growth however, is very disturbing.

Having finished his bath as quickly as possible, and checking the portrait a dozen times first, he got out of the bath to dry and dress in a corner that was slightly hidden from the view of peeping portraits. It wasn't until this point that he realized his glasses were still on. In the shock of his grand mother's appearance he had forgotten to remove them. They were now wet and covered in filmy bubble residue. Standing in front of the sink, he turned on the faucets and shut his eyes rinsing the 'all-covers' blindly. He didn't like to look at himself without his glasses on if it could be helped. Turning away from the mirror above the sink, he dried the glasses, slipped them back on and reluctantly decided he should go see who the guest was.

Opening the bathroom door as quietly as he could, he listened carefully for the sound of voices and was not disappointed. It seemed his mother and her guest were in the sitting room. He decided to eavesdrop for a moment before walking up the hall.

'I'm quite comfortable with my decision,' he overheard his mother say.

A smooth, drawling voice responded. 'All the same Roma, are you certain now is the correct time?'

'Yes Lucius I'm quite sure. I have been thinking about this for years and now is the right time. The offer is there and I am taking it. Current circumstances aside, I need to do what is best for me. I can still be useful to …' she trailed off. Daedalus had stepped on a loud creaky floorboard.

'Son, is that you?' She called. 'Come in here dear, and greet our guest.'

'Ah!' Spoke the drawling voice again as Daedelus entered the sitting room. A rectangular room covered in family portraits and furnished with two sofas draped in green velvet. A man had stood up to greet him, a man with sleek black robes, cold eyes, and white blonde hair. 'Young Mister Indree,' said Lucius Malfoy as he extended his hand in greeting, 'so good to see you again,' he added without the slightest indication of a smile.

'Thank you, sir. Nice to see you as well.'

'So glad you taught him proper manners, Roma. They seem to be forgotten nowadays.'

'Apparently I have not taught him how to dress for company,' glowered his mother. It was a comment directed at what her son was wearing. Muggle clothes. A pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with 'Blur' written on it that he had picked up in a muggle second hand store. When Daedalus had asked the shop clerk what 'Blur' meant, he received a condescending look and a reply of, 'don't you own a radio, kid?'

'But I …,' he began, but Mister Malfoy cut across him.

'Now now Roma, he couldn't have known there were guests coming. And we both know that children today have their own – ah - fashion.' He gave the last word an intonation that plainly said he didn't approve of muggle clothes on a wizard child. Of course, Daedalus already knew that.

'Well one would hope,' began his mother as she glanced at a portrait on the wall, 'that now you are becoming a man you will start to dress more like one.'

Red faced and utterly humiliated, Daedalus desperately wanted to run from the room but knew he couldn't. He could only hope that the subject would change and change quickly.

'So how is life in Ravenclaw?' Asked Mister Malfoy. His voice seemed almost gentle, as though he could empathize with this embarrassing moment. However, when Daedalus looked up to reply his eyes looked as cold as ever.

'Same as usual, really. Everyone in my year is working hard for OWL's.'

'It's a shame you weren't in Slytherin. They do so much more than study. It seems like all Ravenclaws do is study,' drawled Lucius Malfoy.

'Oh, he's not ambitious enough for Slytherin,' his mother rang in, 'he's all about books…studying, a pure Ravenclaw all the way.' If she had smiled a little this might not have been so hurtful, as it was she simply said it with a glare and Daedalus felt his shoulders droop slightly.

'Ambition sometimes comes with age. Perhaps when he is older he will pursue a less academic path.'

'Perhaps,' replied his mother, though she looked doubtful.

There was a prolonged silence until: 'It is time I went,' spoke Lucius Malfoy rising to his feet, 'I must get home to Narcissa, and then a brief visit to Fudge.'

Daedalus shook his hand again and wished him a good holiday. His mother walked her guest to the door and wished him good day. Mister Malfoy wished her a good day in return and was about to step out when he stopped. He turned around, and spoke in a voice that Daedalus could barely hear. 'I still believe you should reconsider this decision Roma.'

'And I still believe it is for the best. Trust me,' she added with a knowing look to Lucius. Daedalus had no clue what they were talking about, though it was certainly peaking his curiosity.

Having said the final word she shut the door and turned back to her son. Daedalus was standing awkwardly in the sitting room, not sure if he was about to receive a scolding or a motherly hug. 'Honestly!' she began, 'if you knew it was Lucius Malfoy you should have changed into robes. He is a very important man; we want to show our best side.' Her expression didn't seem to agree with what she was saying. In fact she looked as though she were suppressing a giggle.

'I need to go into the Ministry. I should return early this evening,' she said while throwing on her woolen cloak and picking up her briefcase.

She was about to leave when Daedalus blurted out, 'what is this decision you've made?'

Turning back and meeting her son's gaze with an unreadable look, she replied. 'Oh, didn't I tell you dear? We're moving to Canada.' And with that she swept out of the door.