Prologue
The cold sun sat low on the morning horizon when Amos Diggory and his wife opened their door. The chilled mid-November breeze hinted at coming snow. Their shoes broke the frozen dew as they tread across the grassy hillside. The smoke of morning fires rose in the distance beyond the hills from the muggle town of Ottery St. Catchpole. A small bundled child ran out in front of them, throwing himself in the tall icy grass and chortling. A smile cracked wide across the ruddy, bearded face of the older wizard.
"Cedric!" He laughed, "Get back here son! You're going to catch a cold." A crooked grin, wide shining steel eyes, and a tuft of auburn hair were all that could be seen between the bulky winter scarf and hat that turned toward them. He dashed toward them, giggling as he circled them in pure joy, before latching to his mother's legs. Amos knelt low, bringing himself to the level of those giddy gray globes, "How would you like a ride on my back while we wait for Uncle Hector, eh, son?" In a Norfolk drawl, Mrs. Diggory encouraged, "Tha' be pretty fun, wouldn' i', lovah?" Cedric nodded eagerly but still clutched to his mother's legs.
"Come now m'boy," Amos he coaxed, reaching comfortingly towards his son,"Let go of mummy's legs." Cedric hesitatingly released his mother and teetered over to his father's inviting arms. "ERRAH!" Amos playfully bellowed as he swung his only child round onto his thick shoulders, causing Cedric to squeal in jubilation. Amos looked up into Cedric's ecstatic face and declared, "Shall we?"
The budding family descended further down the hill, the weak sun creeping towards the west slowly breaking the chill. Out from a patch of foliage at the bottom of the hill strode two figures, dark in the early morning shadows of the trees. They slowly ascended the hill with the sun ascending the sky bringing them into its warming light. It was a man and a woman, a couple. As they trudged upward they progressed from tiny featureless forms into recognizable humans. The man, with a thick head of dark waves above low, thick brows, naturally fixed with a concerned bearing, appeared to be the same age as Amos. The woman, her head adorned with short, tight coils of coal over an olive complexion wasn't much younger and carried a sleeping child about Cedric's size wrapped in blankets in her arms.
"The Dark Lord is dead, Amos!" the dark-haired man cried out with a wide smile cast across his face as he and the woman closed the last stretch of grass. "He is indeed, Hector!" Amos returned enthusiastically, removing Cedric from his shoulders and extending open arms toward the man. "How are you, my friend?"
"Friend my ass! We've been best mates since we were children, get over here," Hector retorted and warmly embraced his dearest friend.
"When my best mates leave the country, they tend tell me where they're going. Where the hell have you been, mate?"
"Oh sure, just get straight to the important stuff and skip right over the pleasantries. I guess I'll have to be the polite one for once. Amos, meet Gala née Reis, my wife." Hector gestures to Gala as she supports her child on one hip and reaches her hand towards Amos'.
"Absolute pleasure to meet you Gala," he said with an exited smile. They shook hands and Gala spoke in a faint accent, almost like an American accent, but somewhat off, "Oh, man. I don't think I can really express how awesome it is to finally meet you." Her large ebony eyes twinkled with unbridled joy as she continued, "For the past six years this guy over here has barely gone a day without mentioning you. I've heard everything he's had to tell about you, multiple times."
"Oh is that right?" Amos mockingly directed toward Hector before addressing Gala again, "You know, I always thought he fancied me a bit. Maybe that's why, not to make you jealous or nothing."
"Oi! Shove off, mate!" Hector laughingly riposted, hitting Amos around the back of his head.
"Alright, alright. Now, who's this little sweetheart," Amos asked fondly, peeking behind the blanketed bundle on Gala's hip. Still chuckling from Amos and Hector's rapport, Gala answered, "This is the little lady Sivia," She caressed her sleeping daughter awake and positioned her body to bring Sivia into better view. Untamable obsidian curls of varying size and density framed an olive complexion to match her mother's, and golden-amber eyes peeked from behind squinted lids blinking in the morning sun. Sivia cooed in waking as everyone admired her. "Well she's stunning, of course," Amos praised of the child's parents. "Do you want to say hello to Sivia, son?" Amos offered, looking down at his son's curious face. The boy nodded and Gala knelt down to his level to show him the child. "Hi, Siv- Sivya," Cedric tentatively peeped after awhile, then Gala stood upright again.
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, deh," Mrs. Diggory, feeling the need to apologize for surveying the child of a woman she didn't even know, stepped back and offered her hand to Gala, "Gone and got all up in your business withou' even introuducin' miself. I'm Amos' wife, Mizziz Diggory," Despite being confused at the other woman's apparent lack of a first name, Gala accepted Mrs. Diggory's hand and replied with her own name. "And this must be my godson!" Hector proclaimed, offering his open palm down to the boy, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Cedric." The boy warily accepted the hand of strange man he had been told his whole life was his godfather and quietly greeted him.
"Well then, now that we've had our introductions," he said, throwing a mocking glance at Hector who only scoffed in reply, "Why don't we all come in out of the cold. I'll put on a pot of tea."
The two families turned and quickly entered into the warmth of the low simple house built quite literally into the side of of the hill, a bit like a rabbit's burrow. The simple windows were somewhat muddled by frosty dirt, but the rest of the exterior was rather tidy and had strong, simple wooden bones. The front room had been well-lived, containing large, yet simple, rustic furniture with simple trinkets and tchotchkes scattered generously about and a simple fire burning underneath an simple stone mantle in the back. Despite all this, the room managed to retain a spacious and intimate air. A single simple diagonal ceiling beam connected the two simple wooden archways on the left and right sides of the room. Through the arch on the right was the simple sun-drenched kitchen, kettle already set on a low burner, and through the left was a simple dark hallway leading to the likewise simple bedrooms. The simple home matched the Diggorys' simple life, a simple husband, with his simple wife, and their anything but simple son.
Everyone had just started to settle when Sivia began fussing from being awake so early. "Is there a room I could put her down in?" Gala sighed and asked of the other mother. "Yeh, um," Mrs. Diggory thought for a minute, "Down the holl and secon' door ta the lef'' is our rum. You can pu' her in theh."
"Thanks," she replied. As she walked down the hall, she began singing a lullaby in a distinctly hispanic language with a somewhat nasal yet charmingly melodic voice.
É comum a gente sonhat, eu sei, quando vem o entradecer
Pois eu também dei de sonha um sonho lindo de morrer
Vejo um berço e nele eu me decruçar com o pranto a me correr
E assimchorando acalentar o filha que eu quero ter...
She disappeared into the room as Amos disappeared into the kitchen to put on some tea, leaving Hector, Cedric, and his mother.
"D'you want to come and sit with me, Cedric?" Hector proposed. "Okay," Cedric muttered and went over to his godfather. "WOAH," Hector softly yelled as he picked Cedric up by the waist and plopped him on the sofa. "Now, I'm not sure how old you are. Think you could tell me?"
"Four," Cedric mumbled between the fingers he had playing on his lips.
"Wow! Four years old! Why, your almost grown."
"Ca' you tell him whin your berthday were, Ced?" his mother urged. "Yeah," Cedric answered, "It was September. The uh, the seventh. Erm..," he counted on his fingers, "that was, two months mummy?"
"Tha's right, very gud, Ced," Mrs. Diggory applauded. "You know," Hector mentioned, looking with adoring eyes down at the fiddling boy, "September is a very good month. Start of Autumn, changing seasons. Very lovely month, beautiful weather. And seven is a very powerful number, lots of magic in it, there is. So you just might have one of the best birthdays in the world. I expect you'r going to be the center of lots of change. That's pretty brilliant, don't you think?" Cedric sleepily shrugged and looked up with heavily eyelids at his godfather. There was a gleam in his eye as if about to ask something important or say something profound.
Just then, Amos came back into the room with a pot and tea set. "Honey," he said, "Could you take Cedric back to bed. He's looking rather tired."
"Yeh, sure," she said standing up as her husband set the dishes on the table in the middle of the room. She walked with her son down the hall, passing her room as Gala was leaving. "Cedric's tired from the early mornin'," she informed Gala, "I'm jus' puttin' him ta bed. Amos should be servin' up the tea."
"Alright," Gala acknowledged, standing in place to wait for the other mother.
"Nah, go'n. I'll be along."
Mrs. Diggory returned in a few minutes just as Amos finished pouring the tea. "I've already made you a cup love," he said, offering her a dish, "black, two lumps. Just how you like." She purringly accepted, "Thank you deh." She sat down and casually sipped her tea with the others.
"Now," Amos started, "Tell us, Hector. Where in the blazes have you been these past, what? Ten and half years?"
After he put his tea on the table, Hector answered, "Lisbon, Portugal. Mum and Dad heard that it was mostly untouched by the war, so we figured it'd be a good place to hide while also being close enough that we could easily get back, if need be. But we didn't want to take any chances, so we went into Muggle society. Mum worked in a school teaching English while me and Dad worked in a factory of sorts assembling boilers."
"Say again?" Amos mocked, "Manual labour? But you're pampered bum's never had to lift a finger for more than your wand"
"Hey!" Hector exclaimed, picking up his tea again, "I resent that. There was that one time I helped wrestle that ogre in Ireland, remember? That counts. Besides, it was the only work available for immigrants. Mum was the only one who could speak the language and we didn't want to draw any attention by using magic."
"Alright, alright," Amos agreed, "I believe you. But now how did you meet this young lady? She hardly seems the type to work in a factory."
"Well," Gala chimed in, "I actually worked in a shop. Being a refugee, that was all I could manage." she stopped at the Diggorys' concerned expressions. "I fled my home in Brazil when I was sixteen. Our military had taken control of the government after enacting a coup, and instead of giving the power back to us, they elected their own president in '66." A subtle glimmer of fear flashed in her eyes, "Things were already really terrifying with people disappearing and I didn't want to stick around to see how much worse it got. I got out the first chance I could and made it to Portugal in '67." She laughed, "To my surprise, I had just traded one authoritarian regime for another, and though this one wasn't lead by the military, it was in the midst of a war with its colonies." The Diggorys' worried faces only grew more worrisome as she continued, "Compared to the worsening situation back home, though, Portugal was still preferable. Seven years after I came, the Portuguese military planned to lead a coup against the government there. I was afraid Brazil would happen all over again, so I prepared to flee."
She calmly sipped her tea again before continuing, "Anyway, that was where I met Hector, at the Carnation Revolution. We spotted each other across one of the crowded streets as we both were putting carnations in the soldiers' guns. The Revolution plunged the country into a bit of turmoil, as they always do. The following January on my birthday and he said it all made him realize what was important and that he wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, however short they might be. Then he proposed," she grasped her husband's hand, "We eloped before the week was out."
"Bloody hell," Amos uttered in shock. "Now that's a story! We've been so wrapped up in our own war I never thought the muggle world had so many of its own problems And Hector, I never would've taken you to be one to become involved in muggle politics. I'd imagine you had a hard enough time convincing your parents of having a relationship with a muggle to worry about much else."
"Well the politics started as a way to stave off the boredom," Hector cheerily replied, "I needed something exciting in my life but I quickly just became really passionate about it. If I hadn't, I doubt I would've ever met Gala. Surprisingly enough, though, mum was really supportive. She convinced dad that because the family was descended from nymphs who were they to say I couldn't marry anyone I wanted, even a muggle, especially considering that we've always regularly associated with non-magic folk, much less that we were hiding in their society."
"Speaking of, "Amos began to ask, "Where are your parents?"
"They chose to stay in Lisbon. Dad retired and mum's still teaching there. They have a cozy little cottage outside the city."
"Wait," Mrs. Diggory started, "If your a muggle, how d'you take to findin' ou' Hector were a wizard, Gala?"
"Well, I told her the night before we married," Hector eagerly answered, "She actually wigged out, but in a good way, if that makes any sense."
Gala interjected, excitedly bringing her feet on the sofa like a child "Alright, so since I was as little as I can remember, I've loved to read. I'd read anything I could get my hands on and spent most of my free time in a library, which is actually how I came to teach myself English. Anyway, one day when I was about eleven, I came across a book on necromancy buried behind some other books. It was the only book I'd ever seen that treated magic as if it were real not just fiction. That began my suspicions. After then, every so often I'd see something strange, people dressed in weird clothes, an unexplainable flash of light, or a weird sound. I always wanted to talk to one of those people or investigate one of those weird lights or sounds, but I was afraid that it was all fake. So I kept it to myself and became convinced that magic was real."
"So naturally," Hector returned, "When I told her she screamed and cried and was deliriously happy that she'd been right all these years. I was prepared for her to leave me and she took me completely by surprise."
"I spent the rest of that night asking him endless questions about the wizarding world like an eager school kid. I just wanted to know absolutely everything."
"And that was pretty much that. I'm not exactly sure how she managed to get by all these years without some foreign ministry finding her, but I guess every now and again a couple muggles fall through the cracks. Doesn't matter now though."
"That is still most peculiar, though," Amos agreed. "Especially a book of necromancy. Do you still have it by any chance?" Gala regrettably answered, "I lost it years ago, back before I left Brazil. It just vanished one day. Never saw it again."
"Anyhow, we should probably go over to the old house and start cleaning and teleport everything over while the kids are sleeping, after ten years the place ready to fall down."
"Sure, of course," Amos said delighted, "We can finish catching up later or even while you guys are moving in." Directing towards his wife, "Love, would you mind staying here for the kids while I take them over the hill?"
"Ah, not a' all, Am," she dismissed, "I got my own cleanin' ta do 'round heh anyway."
"Fantastic," he kissed her cheek. "Alright you two, let's go! Be back soon, love." And with that short farewell, Amos led the couple back out the door.