Chapter 3: Mixing with Muggles
Albus and Bathilda arrived in a posh, muggle neighborhood with a pop. Looking around, they located the large suburban mansion that belonged to the Finch-Fletchleys and walked up to the very ornate gate, which was locked. Both Albus and Bathilda stared quizzically at it, unable to comprehend how to get in without utilizing magic to move the heavy gate. Finally, a female voice interrupted them from the right - "go away". The wizard and the witch fixed their eyes on the little black box which had spoken to them. Albus noticed a silver button, and pushed it before saying: "Hello, my name is Albus Dumbledore, and I'm here with my associate, Monica Wilkins. We'd like to speak with you and your husband about a most important subject." Bathilda looked at Albus askance for the name he had given her, but sighed and went along with it. If she was going to be dead, she'd need to assume a new name, after all.
Irritated, the voice on the other end scoffed. "Neither my master nor my mistress are interested in donating to your charity. Go talk to the Ashworths down the road. They always have open arms for every sob story they come across."
"Ma'am, it's truly of the utmost importance. I'm here to speak with the family specifically about their son, Justin. He is a specially gifted young man, and we would like to offer him some unique opportunities."
After a slight pause, the voice came back slightly less hostile. "Just a moment. I will consult with the masters of the house." After a few minutes a short buzzing noise signalled the gates swinging open. Albus had hoped his message would be just enough to convince the maid to open the door. He didn't want to show his hand and reveal magic just yet.
Bathilda looked around impressed as they walked up the long, winding pathway. "Rich muggles", she commented, using a short phrase to sound sensible.
"Indeed. This walkway reminds me of walking to Hogwarts from the gate. I think it's a tad excessive, but muggles are strange people indeed."
"You will one to talked." Bathilda muttered. Albus chucked in response and they continued their trek.
Reaching the door, it was opened by a middle aged maid with a stern expression on her face. "Please follow me to the drawing room."
He and Bathilda followed the maid and were led to a table in a large, carpeted room, across from a fireplace. "Albus Dumbledore and Monika Wilkins" announced the maid.
A woman sat primly on a couch while the man standing on the far side of the room turned to them and spoke. "Just so you understand, let me warn you that if you're wasting our precious time, you'll be hearing from our solicitor. Now, hurry up and tell us about this 'opportunity' you have for our Justin." It seemed that there would be no small talk today.
Bathilda and Albus sat on the couch facing the lady and Albus steepled his hands, smiled disarmingly, and began speaking, "I assure you that both of you will find our news most interesting. As I mentioned before, your son Justin is specially gifted. There are special secondary schools for children like him, and I would like to offer him admission to one when he turns eleven."
The Finch-Fletchleys looked skeptical at this information, "How do you know that Justin is gifted at anything? He's scarcely a year old, and hasn't even gotten out of his nappies. He doesn't do much more than smile, cry, sleep, play and eat, just like any other child his age. How can you possibly know about any giftings he may or may not have?"
"We have our ways," Albus evaded as he twinkled mysteriously. The Finch-Fletchleys shifted nervously at this, no doubt thinking that they were being watched. Bathilda elbowed Albus in the side, upset with his prevarications. "Regardless of how we know, I would like to offer your son placement in a very prestigious school. We come around to the parents of every special child when they are one year of age, and give their parents an opportunity to sign their child up for our schools."
Mr. Finch-Fletchley glanced towards his wife and joined her on the couch. His wife sighed and, not willing to pass up the opportunity without at least hearing more details, said, "Please, tell us more."
"Gladly, my dear!" Albus smiled, knowing that he had their full attention. Now, it was time to give them quite a shock. He hoped it would be enough to unbalance them and convince them to agree to whatever he said. "I am here on behalf of an international group of individuals who want to make sure that special children learn about their gifts," Albus paused here, building suspense, "The International Confederation of Wizards!"
As he spoke, the aged wizard rose from his seat, drew his wand, and started casting spells. Before the Finch-Fletchleys knew what was happening, the sofa they were on was lifted up into the air, the fireplace burst into flames and Mrs. Finch-Fletchley's hair was turned a bright pink.
"STOP, Albus! Too much!" Bathilda admonished as she brought out her wand to lower the sofa and reversed the discolored hair. The Finch-Fletchleys however, were still wide-eyed and too shocked to do much more than stare at their guests. Bathilda glared at Albus, willing as much disapproval as she could into her gaze. Albus, however, just smiled back at her, as though he had expected her to do that all along.
Turning back to the Finch-Fletchleys, Albus spoke again, "I'm sorry for startling you. It seems that I was a bit too enthusiastic. Magic can be hard to control, even with years of training, after all." Bathilda glared at him more for the blatant lie.
'WHAT WAS THAT!?" the woman yelled.
"That, my dear, was magic." Albus answered, twinkling and smiling. "Something your son, Justin, will learn to control when he goes to magical school. It's very important for him to learn, otherwise, he won't be able to control his magic." The Finch-Fletchleys paled at the thought of more of one of their guests having their hair turned pink at the dinner table or mysteriously floating away during dessert. "I have the papers with me for several magical schools. Please read them over, and let me know if you have questions about any of the schools. I'm here to help you decide on the best choice for your son."
Dumbledore pulled a large stack of papers from a pocket in his robes that was surely far too small for what came out of it, and the couple grabbed them. After perusing them in silence for a few moments, the wife spoke, "These schools seem surprisingly well put together. They look comparable to any secondary school our other sons are attending."
"As it should! These schools are all approved magical schools by the International Confederation of Wizards and thus meet very exacting standards. Now, as you look over the paperwork, I have something else to mention while you decide. Our schooling system is currently starting a new program to pair orphaned magical children with other magical children who come from otherwise non-magical families. The hope is that magical children without magical family will feel less isolated and the orphan can live in a loving home."
Mr. Finch-Fletchley looked up at that, lips thin at the thought of another magical child who could have more 'accidents'. "That sounds like a great program. Unfortunately, we already have five children, and we already decided we aren't going to have any more. We just don't have the energy."
"Are you sure? There are financial incentives as well, so it won't be an extra burden, and we have seen that magical children, especially from non-magical families, do better in school when they grow up with other magical children - one of the reasons we're starting this program."
"We'll consider it," said Mrs. Finch-Fletchley, as she looked up from the papers, "but I have a different question. Why are none of the schools in these pamphlets here in Britain?"
Albus' face fell, "Unfortunately, there was a particularly large crop of magical children born in Britain last year, making Hogwarts, the premiere British school, sadly full. These are the only schools with spaces left open in them."
Bathilda shot him an incredulous glance. He knew full well that Harry's year at Hogwarts was going to be one of the smaller years in recent history, thanks to You-Know-Who's reign of terror. What was Albus playing at?
"That's going to make things very difficult for us. We already have our eldest enrolled at Eton, and our second is looking forward to going there as well. It's a very prestigious school, and I don't think they'll find a comparable education in any of these locations."
"I'm sorry to say that there isn't really any choice. If your son doesn't go to magical school, then he won't be able to control his magic and he'll be a danger to himself and his siblings. If he doesn't go with us, then our government will take him, and put him in the custody of a magical family before erasing all of your memories of him."
The couple froze in front of the still crackling fire as Bathilda hit them with a body-bind and a silencing charm. "ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!" She raged, her eyes bright with fury, "What will you be saying to this family? You telling them lies about everything! We will not destroy the futures of their non-magical children just so they are taking Harry! Let's obliviate them and left. You will have done enough here."
Albus, feeling like a misbehaving student in his professor's class, thought back on his actions. "Maybe I did go a bit too far, even if it was for the best." he thought to himself. "My apologies Professor Bagshot." The maid walked in to find out what all the ruckus was about, and Bathilda bound and silenced her as well. He then turned to the frozen Finch-Fletchleys. "Please forgive me for my behavior today. I do hope that you'll send your son to Hogwarts, my school, when he comes of age in ten years. I'll make sure he does well there. Obliviate."
A few seconds later, Albus looked over to Bathilda as the couple and their maid stared blankly into the distance. "Shall we go straight to the Grangers?"
"Only if you'll comported yourself like a proper, decent wizard this time. No terrify magical displays. No malicious lies. No magical compulsions. Let the Grangers made their own decision. Are we clear?" Albus felt like he was in detention again.
After Bathilda had extracted a promise from him, they apparated away with a crack.
The Finch-Fletchleys started out of their daze at the sound, and looked around, trying to remember what brought them to their sitting room, just as the maid walked back out the door.
"Dear," spoke the lady of the house as she noticed something, "Did you ask the maid to light the fire this morning?"
The fire Bathilda had forgotten to put out continued crackling merrily away for rest of the week while Albus' powerful magic wore off, the muggle maid mystified as to how it could last so long without fuel. Fortunately, it was a very cold November, so no one asked the maid to extinguish it. If she had, she might have found that water didn't work very well on magical fire.
~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~
Bertram Granger was enjoying a relaxing Sunday in the sitting room watching a show on the telly next to his wife, Valeria, who was lightly dozing on his shoulder. The young dentists had just finished a very trying week at work, as the man who owned the practice they were working at had decided to take an unannounced vacation without cancelling any of his appointments. This had left the Grangers taking all of his patients as well as their own; bearable, if a bit troublesome. What had really done them in was that their only daughter had come down with a bad case of the flu around the middle of the week, requiring constant care.
They had talked about hiring a sitter to care for her, but they were worried what one might do if she saw Hermione have an 'incident'. They loved their daughter, but they knew it wasn't normal for blocks to float and dolls to walk, and it just wouldn't do for a baby-sitter to see that and call the police. Since they couldn't take time off to care for her either, they had brought Hermione into the practice and had set up a constant rotation between patients and their daughter. At the end of the day they would return home to spend most of the night alternating between short naps and responding to the cries of their sick daughter. By the time Saturday arrived, the Grangers barely had the energy remaining to cook themselves food and care for Hermione. Fortunately, their daughter's fever had broken late the previous night, and she was currently catching up on lost sleep in her room while the Grangers enjoyed their respite from a most trying week.
Once Bertram and Valeria finally had a bit of energy, they'd returned to a topic they'd discussed before - their own practice. They had put off opening their own practice in favor of taking care of Hermione until she went to pre-school, but they knew they couldn't put up with their boss any longer. They might have to move to be closer to family who they trusted to baby-sit Hermione, but they couldn't work as glorified servants anymore.
Valeria stirred and grumbled as the doorbell rang, causing her husband to chuckle lightly as he rose, puzzled as to who would come calling on a Sunday afternoon. Looking through the peephole, Bertram's eyebrows rose as he took in the strangely dressed man and woman who were at his door. He hadn't seen them in the neighborhood before; he was sure he would have remembered them if he had. The man wore flamboyant robes that threatened to make his eyes water if he looked at them for too long, and the woman looked older than anyone he had ever seen. Figuring they were too old and crazy to harm anyone, he opened the door, fully prepared to help a batty old couple find their way home.
"Good evening! Mr. Granger, I presume?" The man in the eye-watering robes spoke as he opened the door.
"You presume correctly!", Bertram replied with as much of a smile as he could muster, "How can I help you this evening?"
"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and this is my associate, Monica Wilkins," Mr. Dumbledore smiled genially, "We are here to discuss some special opportunities for your daughter that you might be interested in. And before you ask, no, we aren't trying to sell you anything." Bertram laughed at this.
"Please, do come in. Just give me a moment to wake my wife and prepare the sitting room. Then we can talk about these opportunities of yours." In short order, a yawning Valeria was roused to wakefulness, and a table had been cleared off. Bertram ushered them into the sitting room, and they all took seats around the table. After a round of introductions, they got down to business.
"Tell us, Mr. Dumbledore, about these opportunities. You have our full attention, as long as my wife here can keep her eyes open." Bertram grinned slyly at his wife, who jabbed him with an elbow in response.
Mr. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in response, "Allow me to begin by telling you what brought us here in the first place. We are here because your daughter, Hermione, has a very special gift. She is a witch and Mrs. Wilkins and I are here to introduce you, as her parents, to the magical world."
Bertram was stunned into silence at this. He didn't quite know what to say. Are these two crazy? If not, what motivation could they have for trying to trick us?
Fortunately, Valeria was much less taken aback, "Mr. Dumbledore," she then paused, as trying to figure out the most polite way of dismissing his claim, "while we appreciate you coming here to talk with us, I'm not sure we can take you at your word. You and Mrs. Wilkins seem like nice people, but are you trying to tell us our daughter is 'magical'?
"Would you be up for a practical demonstration?" Mr. Dumbledore pulled out a rather ornate stick. Valeria internally scoffed, guessing it was his 'magic wand'.
"It would go a long way to convincing us. What 'magic' can you do? Can you make things float? That should be easy enough."
Mr. Dumbledore pointed his 'wand' at the table, and a nearby coffee mug rose into the air. Bertram, who had finally begun to regain his bearings, waved his hands around the coffee mug, as though looking for strings. Finding nothing, he grabbed the mug, and attempted to pull it down. Failing to budge the cup an inch, he leaned back, and was again speechless. This time, Valeria was no better. She certainly hadn't expected him to actually do something.
The wizard lowered the coffee cup back onto the table, and, thankfully, waited for them to recover.
"That… was quite… unexpected." Valeria stuttered out.
"Understatement of the year…" her husband muttered next to her, before he sighed and turned to address Mr. Dumbledore, "Tell us about your magical world."
~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~
Over the course of the next hour, Albus explained to the parents about wands, magical schools, brooms, and all the minutia that he usually explained to the parents of muggleborn children. He hadn't visited any parents personally in many years, but he still remembered his days as deputy headmaster and the words came easily to him. The Grangers asked many questions but overall they seemed to be quite excited to learn more about their daughter.
Once they finished the overview, Mr. Granger asked one last question that gave Albus an opportunity to turn the conversation to Harry, "So…Mr. Dumbledore, why have you come to turn our world upside down today of all days? November 1st seems rather arbitrary to me."
Albus frowned, "Truthfully, we normally wouldn't tell you about the magical world until your daughter turned eleven, but there are exceptional circumstances in our world at the moment. There is a powerful magical terrorist in our world who has been targeting wizards and witches who have been born to non-magical parents, like your daughter. Such children are known as muggleborns in our society. We wanted to come and warn you about him, and offer you our assistance."
The Grangers instantly shared a worried glance. "Let me assure you", Albus continued, "that our government is doing everything that it can to combat this threat, but we wanted to give you another option. Our ministry has approved a program to help fund the expatriation of our younger muggleborns and their families to other countries."
Mrs. Granger spoke up. "Leaving everything behind is quite a step to take, even for our own safety. What will we do once we leave? We are dentists, and we were planning on opening up our own dental practice here in Britain, but we aren't licensed to practice internationally. We would be jobless!"
Albus saw his chance to persuade them, and intervened "This program will also help you establish yourselves in your country of choice. We will cover your living expenses for up to two years with a stipend while you settle yourselves and work on getting your licenses."
Albus had done much research into muggle dentistry in his time. The teeth of a magical person are usually quite resistant to tooth decay, and as such, there were no good wizarding tooth healers. However, in Albus' case, his never-ending fascination with sweets of all kinds meant that even his magically reinforced teeth occasionally needed some extra assistance. Being the Supreme Mugwup of the ICW also meant that he could travel to any country for any reason as he felt necessary. Therefore, he had the whole world to choose from for his dentists. His exhaustive research had concluded that, while Hungary was his personal choice for dentistry, Australia had some of the best compensated dentists in the world.
"If I may, I would recommend you consider Australia. It is a very good place for dentists. They are paid quite well, and you should be able to open your own practice there fairly quickly. Their magical education system is based on independent tutelage. However, for non-magical parents like yourselves this might be ideal since it will give you a chance to see what your daughter is learning. Their academic certifications are also accepted in many places internationally, including Britain, so your daughter won't have difficulties should she ever decide to repatriate in later life." What Albus didn't mention was that, with Australia being so far away, it would be even safer for Harry.
The Grangers paused to consider Albus' words, "Well, it seems like a decent place. We will take that into account when we make our decision. Is there anything else we should know before we decide?"
This was the opportunity Albus was waiting for. It would cost him quite a few galleons if they accepted, but it would be worth it if they left with Harry. He smiled and twinkled as he spoke, "There is one more thing you may wish to consider, and it's why I have brought Mrs. Wilkins with me today." Bathilda turned to him with a questioning eyebrow. She had been keeping a close eye on Albus this time, and while she hated that he was lying to these nice people at least these lies weren't threats to ruin their lives. "The terrorist that we mentioned before has left behind magical orphans, usually whose parents have died fighting for freedom. We hope that you would adopt one when you leave the country. It's not mandatory, but there will be significant incentives to make the adoption go smoother. For one, Mrs. Wilkins would accompany you to Australia as a tutor and nanny to make up for the added inconvenience. She is a bit hard to understand due to a magical accident that distorted her speech, but she is quite competent, and was once a professor at the premier British magical school."
Albus had used some light legilimency on the couple during their chat, so he knew that the combination of additional money to help start up their practice as well as a ready-made magical baby-sitter and tutor for their daughter would almost certainly be too much to resist.
"That's quite a generous deal, Mr. Dumbledore. We'll have to discuss it, but I think you can call us very interested for the time being. When do you need us to have an answer for you?"
After discussing the details of how and when to contact him, Albus and Bathilda got up to leave when a wail emerged from down the hall, making the Granger parents sigh. Bathilda, noticing the bags under their eyes, looked to Albus and said "Pepper-Up potion for the Grangers. They be tired and needing energy."
Agreeing with Bathilda's assessment, Albus reached into his robe and pulled out a couple of vials from his stock. Passing them to the Grangers and telling them it would help, they drank the potion and soon steam was coming from their ears and they felt full of energy.
Looking at the empty bottle in wonderment, Mr. Granger exclaimed, "Every parent needs this!"
Albus could only chuckle and agree.
~~~~~~~~~~Y~~~~~~~~~~
Daily Prophet - November 1st 1981
The Ginger Scourge Scoured!
By Thaddeus Skeeter
Early this morning, the Ministry of Magic detected powerful Dark Magic coming from Godric's Hollow. After a thorough investigation, they have released their findings.
In the most exciting news we have reported since Quidditch Reporter Bertha Jorkins was found lost in the Amazon rainforest, we confirm the rumors that You-Know-Who has been defeated! No longer must the red-head witches of Britain live in fear of The Ginger Scourge! According to the press release, You-Know-Who attacked Godric's Hollow, hoping to end the life of Lily Potter, a well known red-head, and her family. He succeeded in massacring the entire family, but a cleverly laid trap brought He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named down with them. Nothing remained of the dark wizard but a pile of ashes.
We mourn the Potters for their sacrifice, and thank them for saving us all. To all red-heads who fear that they may face reprisals from the Death Eaters, please contact Amelia Bones at the Ministry of Magic to arrange safety while our ministry cleans up the remaining Death Eater scum.
See page 5 for a transcription of the press release.
See page 12 for Bertha Jorkins' report on the difficulties of playing Quidditch in dense jungles.
~~~~~~~~~~Y~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.
We are slowly working our way out of the starting section of our story, and we should be getting to some more of the 'Adventure' and 'Mystery' once we actually get to our first time-skip in a few more chapters. Hopefully we can manage to hold your interest until then.
Thank you to our two reviewers six favorites and ten followers for letting us know that you're interested. We appreciate it.
Have a good week,
Mr. Darcy