Chapter One: Turning Back
Author note: This story is part of the Magical Flashpoint Side Story series. This story follows "Be Strong and Very Courageous" and comes before "Blessings". This story is also set after "The Proxy for the House of Wordsworth".
I know many people asked right after "Trial By Fire" and "Family By Blood, Family By Choice" for a story where Harry came back and saw how Greg interacts with the kids (and hopefully dumped his Dursley tinted view of non-magicals). Well, it might be a lot later than people were hoping, but here it is!
Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.
A Squib, huh? Harry resisted the urge to laugh hysterically after Neville left his office. Two Squib-borns, the Squib son of a Death Eater, and four out and out Muggles. Sounded more like the beginning of a bad joke than a summary of one of Magical Canada's top Auror teams. And the more Harry thought about it, the more he impressed he was that Parker's team worked at all, much less as well as it did. On the surface, it shouldn't work at all. Magic and Muggle working together? Literally on the same team? It should have been unthinkable, impossible, but it wasn't.
The first time he'd gone to Canada, he'd had 'Mione at his back and his head held high, positive that he'd come back with Arthur Calvin's children. He'd finally be able to keep his promise to Arthur, his promise to keep the young ones safe, to be the wind at their backs as they grew up without their parents. He'd finally get them away from the Muggle who'd never value them as he and Ginny would.
Instead, he'd returned with his tail all but tucked between his legs after Gringotts interfered and essentially handed the youngsters back to Parker on a silver platter. Resentful and furious that Arthur's two kids had been ripped out of his grasp, he'd vowed to watch from afar, ready and waiting for another chance, however unlikely said chance was. But then life had interfered, along with the usual yearly crop of bad apples, so the watching had simply…never happened.
Now, as he flipped through the report Gringotts had sent him as the Calvin Family proxy, he was actually grateful he hadn't been able to keep an eye on the children. If he had, he would've pounced as soon as Parker ended up in a coma. And that would've been an utter disaster…almost inevitably leading to Parker's demise and a fate worse than death for the Squib-born Sergeant. And that… Harry shuddered at the trail of dominos he could see, even in just the barebones Gringotts report. In trying to save the children, he would have hurt so many people, ruined far too many lives. He might have even felt smug and justified in his actions.
Slowly, Harry closed the report, thinking hard. Despite his own behavior, despite the family history Wordsworth had to have known about before he contacted Neville, despite everything that had been thrown at them, the Squibs and Muggles kept moving forward, refusing to back down or run away from the magical world. It didn't tally with Harry's view of Muggles, not in the slightest. Muggles were supposed to be happier ignoring magic, not eagerly mixing magic and technology as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And from what he could find out, Gringotts was even starting to quietly market some of the devices they'd developed for Parker's team. It was small, subtle, and being run through another company – likely the same company Wordsworth had told Neville about – but, sooner or later, the magical world was going to get dragged into the twenty-first century, despite all the kicking and screaming the purebloods could – and would – do.
The raven wizard knew, intellectually, that most Muggleborns grew up in loving, caring families who accepted their magic and celebrated those talents, though none of them had ever gone to the same lengths Parker and his crew were. Hermione was one such Muggleborn, not to mention most of Harry's Muggleborn former classmates. He also knew, intellectually, that the magical world couldn't sustain the Statute of Secrecy forever. Sooner or later, like it or not, the Muggle world was going to rediscover their magical counterparts.
But none of that intellectual knowledge changed Harry's emotional perspective. Didn't change how he had grown up, in Dudley's shadow, shunned and punished for accidental magic he himself hadn't understood. Kept in a broom cupboard under the stairs, locked in and often short of food. Even after saving Dudley's life before his fifth year, Harry hadn't been accepted by any of the Dursleys, though Dudley had reached out right before the Battle of Seven Potters. He'd never reached back…in fact, the last time Harry had looked up the Dursleys had been right after the Battle of Hogwarts and, frankly, he'd just wanted to make sure they'd survived…he hadn't been interested in anything more than that.
The wizard shook himself out of his musings and tucked the folder away in a locked drawer of his desk. He could come back and look at it in the morning. For now, he just wanted to go home and hug his wife and children.
Ginny Potter née Weasley welcomed her husband home with their usual hug and kiss, then she shooed him towards the children, smiling as Lily shrieked in joy, her father tossing her up in the air and drawing her in close on the catch. As their sons demanded their turns, Ginny turned back to cooking their dinner. Her wand flicked at the kitchen implements, ensuring that the knives kept chopping the carrots for the stew she was putting together. Another flick lifted the bubbling pot off the fire; she would let it cool for a few minutes before she added the finishing touches.
As she worked, dishes flying from the cabinet to the table and her towel briskly wiping up a few small spots of water, she considered her next steps. Ever since Harry had failed to come home with Arthur Calvin's orphaned children, she'd been doing her own planning to bring her children home, where they belonged. As far as the ginger witch was concerned, they were hers in all but blood. When Harry had brought them home from St. Mungo's, right after their parents died, she'd taken them in as her own and no insignificant scrap of parchment could change that!
Oh, she was sure that Gregory Parker was a perfectly nice man. But he was a Muggle, not a wizard…he couldn't possibly understand what it took to raise magical children. That many of her classmates had been raised by their equally non-magical parents never occurred to the witch – it was simply outside of her rather sheltered experience. Even the War had not changed the fact that Ginny Potter had grown up in the magical world and almost never left it.
As their dinner made its way to the table, Ginny resolved to speak to her husband about going to Toronto. If she couldn't have her children, she was going to make sure the Muggle knew she was watching. Gregory Parker might have beaten her Harry in a beast taming challenge, but that 'victory' didn't hold a candle to giving two orphans a home with a real mother. In their own world.
Reluctantly, Harry cracked open the parchment from Gringotts…given half a chance, he'd have squirmed his way out of this particular task, but Ginny had insisted on this course of action. She wanted to meet Parker for herself, to judge him according to the Weasley Family standards, a high bar indeed. Much like her mother had pretty much adopted him on sight, Ginny had adopted Lancelot and Alanna on sight; the news that Arthur had willed his children to a cousin Harry hadn't even known existed had been a bitter, bitter blow to both adults.
But he'd seen the two Calvins since then, a fact Ginny was increasingly jealous of. Despite how much Harry would've liked to let Parker cool down for a few more weeks – or months – Ginny was tired of waiting and determined to see 'her' children. With his wife unhappy, Harry's course had been all but predetermined; within a day of her threat to make him sleep on the couch, Harry's missive to Gringotts was on its way, requesting a meeting with Sergeant Parker and his wards.
Ginny hadn't been pleased in the slightest when Harry told her they couldn't just pop off to Toronto and demand Parker drop everything to meet with them; the man had a job…an important one. In fact, Ginny had been so angry that Harry had simply gotten out a few blankets to make up the couch, only for his wife to magic them back to their cupboard.
"Harry, I'm sorry," Ginny whispered, shame-faced. "It's not your fault we can't just go meet this Muggle."
Harry hugged his wife, understanding that she was just worried about the two teenagers she considered her children. "I'll send the request tomorrow, Ginny," he promised.
"And we can bring them home?"
Green eyes closed in sorrow. "Gin, love, we can't," Harry replied sadly. "The Calvin family magic considers Parker their guardian now. Unless he dies, Lancelot and Alanna are his now."
"What? Harry, what are you talking about?"
Harry averted his gaze. "The challenge, Ginny. When I lost it, the Calvin family magic basically made Parker their 'father'. They're his now, by right of blood and magic."
Ginny wept as she understood. Harry cradled her, lifting his wife off the ground and carrying her to bed as she grieved for what could never be.
Harry scanned the letter, his shoulders slumping. Parker had agreed to a meeting, but he was insisting on meeting the elder Potters alone. His charges, the Squib-born insisted, would not be at the initial meeting and if the Potters didn't like it, they didn't have to come at all. In fact, Harry suspected that if he and Ginny didn't come, that would suit Parker right down to the ground…he did not trust them, particularly after Harry's attempt to take the children. To top the hits off, Parker had already picked out a location, one which was defiantly based in the Muggle world. Home turf for Parker, on two counts. And non-negotiable.
Ginny was not going to be happy about this.