Chapter One: Losing Family

"What in Merlin's name?" Locksley demanded sharply. "You intend to take two children, who have lived here in Canada for two years, and force them back to a country where their parents died?"

Potter didn't look the least bit repentant. "At least in England, they will live amongst their own kind," he snapped, glaring at both Parker and Locksley. "Why Artorius sent them here, I will never know, but at least now, his children can come home."

"This is their home," Wordsworth burst out, a mix of panic and anger in his face and voice. "We're their family now." His eyes narrowed and he added, "You're being just as prejudiced as those pureblood fanatics Lance and Alanna told us about."

Potter stiffened at the insult, his glare sweeping sideways to Wordsworth. "I'm no pureblood bigot, Constable," he sneered, "I just happen to know how you Muggles treat magical children."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Jules questioned, her eyes narrow with outrage. "What, we have to have magic to raise magical kids?"

Potter sneered at her, but made no reply. Clearly done with the techies; he turned a smug, superior look on Sergeant Parker. "You know," he began, so utterly condescending that the unobserved watcher wanted to pound him, "I considered offering to bring them back every so often, keep in touch. I don't want them to lose any friendships after all. But I don't see how that could possibly work with such open and blatant violations of the Statute of Secrecy here." His gaze shifted pointedly to Madame Locksley. "Perhaps, if such violations are dealt with, I might consider bringing my new wards back for a few visits."

Parker growled, clearly reining himself in with an effort. "You think you can just come in and take mio nipotes without any warning or any sort of legal proceeding?"

"Oh, there was a legal proceeding," Potter replied airily, "Of course, as a Muggle, you were represented in absentia, but there was a legal proceeding."

"To overturn the will," Wordsworth snarled. "Doesn't that set a nasty precedent though?"

Potter's smile reminded the watcher of a shark's toothy grin. "Not at all," he claimed, "Rather, it sends the message that we of the wizarding world are fully invested in protecting our children."

"And that you don't trust your friend," Lane pointed out. He ignored the outraged expression on Potter's face. "After all, you went out of your way to overturn his will, take his children away from their uncle. I'd say that shows just how much you respected him."

"You don't know anything about me," Potter retorted. He all but whirled to Parker. "I'll be collecting my new wards tomorrow afternoon, Sergeant Parker. Make sure they're packed and ready to go." He paused, but his prejudice got the better of him. "I'd tell you to say good-bye to them, but we both know you don't actually care about them." Without waiting for a response, the wizard turned on his heel and walked away, leaving a devastated Sergeant staring after him.

The kids' reaction to the news was much the same as Greg's had been. Horror, disbelief, denial, and rage. Greg didn't bother to hide how much the separation would hurt him, the kids deserved better than that from him. He was past the rage and denial, a sort of grief was settling over the stocky man as he contemplated the long, lonely nights ahead of him.

Alanna clung to him, sobbing, "I don't want to go, Uncle Greg."

He hugged her back, letting his own tears flow. "I don't want you to go either, mia nipote," he choked out.

Lance was trying to hold his own sorrow in, but Greg would have none of that and he pulled his nephew into the hug. "I wish…" Lance whispered.

"Me too," Greg admitted. The kids would have to leave their tech-based toys and equipment behind, another reminder he himself would have to endure once they were gone. "I'm sorry," he offered to both children.

"Not your fault," Lance sniffled. "You told me that when 'Lanna disappeared." The boy pulled back, wiping his eyes. "We'll come back," he promised.

"We won't forget you," Alanna promised as well, her girlish tones somehow much older and wiser.

Breaking down wasn't going to help, Greg reminded himself firmly. He smiled as much as he could at both kids. "What do you two say to pizza for dinner," he offered. "Then," he almost choked, "Then I can help you pack."

Both teens hugged him again, their tears flowing and mingling with their guardian's. For the first time in two years, Lance finally managed to say, "We love you, Uncle Greg."

Greg's arms tightened around his kids, his nipotes. "Love you too, kiddos," he whispered, struggling to hold back the sense of loss already hovering over him.

"What are you doing?" Hermione Weasley née Granger demanded of her best friend and brother-in-law in the hotel room they were sharing until they could go home to England.

Harry looked up from the burnt and somewhat tattered robes that had been one of his more comfortable Auror uniforms. With a shrug, he replied, "I'm giving two kids a much better home than I had growing up."

Hermione was not appeased, not in the slightest. "You didn't even give Parker a chance," she growled. "They saved your life! And you thank them by taking away Parker's cousins without any warning. Harry, you promised."

"He dragged all his Muggle friends into the wizarding world!" Harry snapped back. "They're trying to use Muggle technology in our world, that's all I needed to see."

"It worked and you know it," Hermione argued. "Would that be so bad? To have the best of both worlds?" It was certainly one of the only reasons no one had ended up dead that day, of that Hermione was certain. "Besides, they didn't do it all with technology, they had a wizard help them with the door."

"Oh, that makes it so much better," Harry sneered, his sarcasm etched in every word. "It's not up for debate, 'Mione. I'm not going to let that Muggle do to Artorius's kids what the Dursleys did to me."

"No, you're just going to break all of their hearts to prove you're right," Hermione said softly. When Harry stared at her, she shook her head. "You didn't see the look on Parker's face when you walked away, or the looks on his team's faces." With that, Hermione levitated her trunk and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, confused and hurt.

"I can't help you do this, Harry," Hermione replied. "I won't stop you, but I won't help you either." With that, she left to find another room to stay in.

The silver-haired figure made his way down the pebbled pathway, intent on his destination. He wasn't afraid of being spotted, the odds that Potter would consider a fellow wizard a threat to his underhanded plan were remote.

And yet, the wizard wondered to himself why he was doing this. It wasn't as if he liked the two British brats, especially after they'd opened the door to a group of Mugg…no, techies…becoming a permanent part of his life. The brats had screamed at him, insulted him, and…and been so terribly right. They'd been right and the techies were far more than he'd given them credit for.

Even that wasn't the only reason the wizard was doing this. No, the other reason had to do with, not the day's events, but the events of a few months earlier. When a broken, suicidal man had stood in a room not five meters away from the watching wizard and been stopped, not by force or by spell, but by another man who'd been willing to bare his own broken, bleeding heart to show his mentor that he wasn't alone.

To the absent Potter, the wizard murmured, "You can't tell me that this is how it ends." Then he looked up at his destination with the gleaming marble columns and mezzanine with the building's name chiseled in letters a meter tall: Gringotts.