The spark.

AUTHOR NOTE:

I don't own any of this, all created and copyrighted to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. Some characters added by my own creation, all views are my own and not reflected on the Harry Potter world. My first fanfic.. go easy on me! But please leave reviews so I can fix any issues. Thanks for reading!

—-

On the last day in May, Megan lay on the grass in her back garden. It had been a month since she returned to Glasgow from her travels, and the charm of the city was not yet lost on her. Many muggles in Glasgow trudge through life not understanding the beauty of where they live. However, Megan Martin still appreciated the turbulent weather. Where else could you lie in a garden where that mornings rain had left a sweet smell in the air, and that afternoon the sun splits the skies? Megan sat up to take a glug of her rose wine and caught the sight of her pale, skinny legs in the sun. They were already starting to feel a bit burnt. #whitegirlproblems

She had always been the awkward girl. It's exactly what you expect to hear though, isn't it? They're always awkward in stories like this. Here's why - it's always the special people who just don't fit in right. When do you ever hear a story about someone who just fits in and gets through life easily? Well, you don't. Megan was all limbs, small and gangly and always looking like she just needed to eat a good burger - always a bit odd looking. Her best feature was her brown hair - so long she could sit on. It didn't matter when she cut it, as it always seemed to grow back just as fast as she could have it cut. Unfortunately this would also apply to the hair on her legs and arms, and she often wondered if shaving from the neck down every two days was worth it. On December the first just last year, Megan boarded a plane to France with Hephy after both quitting their retail careers for a winter of skiing. Hephy was her best friend and unfortunately, the love of her life. Now, they were back home, and trying to figure out what to do with themselves for the next few years.

It had always been a turbulent relationship between Megan Martin and John Hephaestus, (aka Hephy). The pair now had four years together, so naturally were learning to avoid the topics that would send them into a drunken frenzy if brought up after a drink or two. As Megan lay tipsy in the sun that afternoon, she couldn't help but think of him. He was in London for the week training for a new job, and having only secured a part time job in a pub herself, she had spent most of the week drinking in the garden. Glaswegians are typically sun worshippers who abandon all responsibilities when the weather is nice. It is a pretty rare occasion for them, but this last week in May had enjoyed sun every day. Meaning, Megan was again, quite drunk at 7pm. She thought about the questions she still had for Hephy that gone unanswered. She had hoped that being away from the stress of work when in France would bring him closer to her and finally give her the answers she wanted. They were silly questions that shouldn't really bother her like they did. Why won't he talk about being at school? Why are there no photos of him before being 16? What makes his school friends so unaccepting of newcomers? Why would he talk about marriage so realistically and happily, but when push came to shove, was there still no ring? Something just didn't feel right to Megan. The biggest problem, was his reaction to these questions? The snapping and the temper that came with them? She looked up toward the sky, in the drunken state where everything is a bit fuzzy, but also clearer than it ever is when sober. Her heart felt heavy as she thought of the discussions to come with Hephy if things didn't change. A life of burying their heads in the sand and pretending there wasn't a block between the two simply wouldn't do. She felt tears form in her eyes as she looked at the stars? Stars?! The point where the sun set and night began seemed to pass in no time at all, that or she was in a state too far gone to have noticed. She glanced at her watch and noted it was 9:30 already.

Spark.

Megan closed her eyes and opened them slowly, as if to try and reset her vision.

Spark.

Fireworks in May would be strange elsewhere, but not really in Glasgow where the school kids enjoy putting each other in as much trouble as they can manage. Bloody kids. Probably setting off fireworks in the park down the road.

She sank her head further into the grass and watched as sparks filled the night sky above her garden. Red and violet sparks as bright as fire leaped above her eyes. Megan reached her fingers into the air to try and touch them, and as she did, the sparks came toward her fingers as if gravitating towards the warmth in her. She grabbed them, and flew them back into the air, laughing.

"Enough wine for today, Megs," she chuckled, as she stumbled from the garden to her home, to sleep… leaving a trail of red and violet sparks behind her.

—-

A few hours later, in a not so very far away home, the lights were also flicked off. In Chomhachag Manor, Ginny Potter kicked off her slippers and slid into bed. Ginny was glad to finally be at rest after a hectic day. It was two weeks before the final match of the HBD Quidditch Championship - a now 15 year old tradition in European Wizarding schools. She smiled as she remembered Hermione turning up for their fortnightly dinner date, more tempered than usual after a day at the ministry, with the news that came four years after the battle:

"Honestly. I don't know what Percy was thinking of. I would have expected more from him." She huffed as she sipped her glass of wine.

Ron sympathetically rubbed her shoulder where his elbow had previously been resting.

"I think what Percy was thinking would be somewhat along the lines of bringing International Magical Co-operation to school age kids again" Harry said.

"Yeah, by throwing them in front of a dragon?" Ron chuckled, "Whatever happened to a friendly game of Quidditch?" He chuckled into his beer, as the other three sat down their glasses and looked at each other incredulously.

"What? What have I said now?! Is there beer on my nose again?!" Ron swatted at his nose as Ginny and Harry laughed, and Hermione kissed her fiancé on the cheek.

'You're a bloody genius, Ron." Hermione fumbled for her notepad in her bag to take a quick note, as the others raised their eyebrows. Hearing Hermione pick up Ron's language would never get old.

"What are you smiling about?" Harry nuzzled into her neck. She was so exhausted, she hadn't even noticed him sliding over on to her side of the bed. She picked up her wand from her bedside table.

"Muffliato." The kids were always within earshot, and making their conversation private had become second nature to the Potters. "Remember when the future of student exchanges in Europe was changed by Ron Weasley laughing into a pint?" Ginny felt his breath in her ear as he smirked.

"So the press shoot went well today?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, all was well until two of the Beauxbatons chasers started fighting - still on their broomsticks - over who Agvald Wikström from Durmstrang winked at when they kicked off. The beauxbatons team is all pretty young this year." Ginny said as Harry stroked her hair. "It was awesome to see James sitting in the stands as reserve beater though. He's counting on the Ravenclaw guy on the Hogwarts team getting another bout of wrackspurts. Luna is still writing him to lead his imagination astray!"

Harry laughed. James Sirius Potter had left Chomhachag Manor the previous September to attend his first year at Hogwarts. Luckily the year of the 6th triennial HBD Quidditch Championship - a tournament held at either Hogwarts, Beauxbatons or Durmstrang consisting of four matches. Each against the other, and the two highest scoring teams playing one final match. This year, Beauxbatons had unexpectedly came through with their young team, and were in second place. Hogwarts had secured first place so far, which proudly for the Weasleys and Potters could be put down to Gryffindor's Victorie Weasley's excellent seeker skills, and Hufflepuff's Teddy Lupin's extraordinary keeping tactics. Madam Pince never did seem to notice the flash of red in Teddy's blue hair that always distracted the weaker of the oppositions chasers. The two teams were to play a final match in two weeks from now, in mid June. James, always a wonder as to where he inherited his surly build, had wowed Hogwarts this year in the Gryffindor tryouts, and secured the Beater position. Harry loved that his older son had followed in his footsteps by setting records in the Gryffindor history. He had not made it on to the first Hogwarts team for the HBD championship; the long standing seventh year Slytherin-Ravenclaw duo, Miller and Nash had secured those places for their final year. Harry pondered over how so much of James' personality had flourished in his first year of Hogwarts. Just over one year away, Harry would watch his youngest son board the Hogwarts express, and await a new Albus to depart the train at Christmas. At least he had four more years with Lily Luna at home to fawn over. He looked over to his Ginny, his wife.

"Well then, Rita Skeeter. Any juicy love triangles you're going to big up for the Prophet?" Harry rolled away just in time as Ginny lifted her pillow to bash where his head had previously just rested.

"Shut it, Potter." Ginny snarled, raising her chin to impersonate her sister-in-law "You know me. It's not about the gossip, or the private lives of the children. It's about the integration of their cultures and the sportsmanship of it all."

They laughed as Harry rolled back over into his previous position, nestling his head right above Ginny's shoulder, with his nose nuzzled behind her ear and an arm draped over her waist.

"You know, Ginny. You've forgotten something about this evening."

"Tonight? Did we forget Lily's swim class?"

"Nope." Harry smirked into her neck as she sat upright to gawk at him.

"Then what have I forgotten?"

"The Wizengamot meeting was tonight."

Ginny gasped and grabbed Harry's hand. "Tonight! Oh god, it was tonight! I'm so tired from being back and forwards between Hogwarts, the office and here that I forgot it was tonight! So… Harry?"

"It passed." Harry grinned at the glowing woman in his arms and held her close. "The Wizengamot passed the bill."

"Oh, Harry. So they'll all be found? And they'll all get the letter?"

"Yes, Ginny. Every muggle-born that we couldn't find after the war will finally get their letter." Harry felt a warmth inside him as he thought of the people affected by the war they never even knew had happened. So many potential quidditch players, healers, professors, aurors, ministry workers, who were never discovered would finally find out, 18 years after the end of the war that they were a witch or wizard. In 1997, when Voldemort seized control of the ministry, the record of the British magical population was wiped of all Muggle-borns. From August 1997 onwards, Muggle-borns attended Hogwarts just as they always had done. But those eleven years of Muggle-born witches and wizards were gone from the Ministry records forever. After years of research, The Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries had finally found a way to apply the trace to the entire British population, meaning Muggle-born witches and wizards could be found, from their history of accidental magic. This had been five years ago now. Originally, the Wizengamot had not reached a majority vote to pass "the Muggle-borns of 1997 bill". Some viewed it as too high a risk to disturb their belief systems by letting them know about the adult magic college they should attend. However, six months previously, in time for the bill to be represented to the Wizengamot for an appeal, his sister-in-law Hermione, as head of Magical Law enforcement was brought in to campaign for the adult Muggle-borns who had missed out on Hogwarts to be notified of the world they belong in.

Harry sat up beside Ginny to tell her all about it.

"Hermione and Dean had the record writer with them in a glass box as they made their presentation. As they were summarising, the quill started scratching on the parchment inside the glass box. Hermione stopped speaking, watched the words form on paper. And as it finished, she charmed the box to project what was just written into the air for all the Wizengamot to see. Hermione shouted out to everyone "Look. Just now, a twenty-one year old woman has been recorded. A woman who should have attended Hogwarts in 2005. She should have graduated four years ago. Just now, a woman from Glasgow has performed accidental magic in her garden. We have been lucky, you could say, that public accidental magic amongst Muggle-borns since the war has been confined to children who have been able to attend Hogwarts at the age we all did. But what of the adults who we never found? We simply cannot say that to alert them to the magic within them is to disturb their belief system - because they already DO believe. These witches and wizards, just like you and I, know they are different and simply don't know why. This woman from Glasgow we have just this moment recorded performing accidental magic will most likely have magical children, who will attend Hogwarts. Why should this generation of witches and wizards not be allowed to explore the very part of themselves that some of us take for granted? Megan Martin, only a few years older than some of my nieces and nephews, should be allowed to discover why she is special. She belongs with us, and deserves to make the choice to become a part of this world" Honestly Ginny. She was amazing. Nobody in the room could have not been moved by her speech. Only 10% of the Wizengamot voted against her."

Ginny slipped down to rest her head on her husbands bare chest and moved a hand to rest on his thigh. She sighed, "Megan Martin. She'll only be three years older than Teddy and five years older than Victoire. Just think what it must be like to live life as you and Hermione were raised, to reach near Teddy and Victoire's age and have your world change so much?"

"Mmmm." Harry's mind had reeled all night thinking of how much so many lives across Britain were to be changed as they always should have. However, as Ginny's hand began to caress his thigh, he suddenly felt his busy brain empty - replaced with thoughts of apple orchards and a fiery mane of hair cascading around his face as warm lips met his own. "Well. Mrs Potter, just how tired are you?"

Ginny's laugh filled the room. "I'm not that tired, Mr Potter."

Harry kneeled up on the bed, to pull his Ginny closer to him and kissed her deeply.