[6]

"That's it, Denise. You can do it!" Harry cheered for his sister. Denise spat a spit bubble at him, but tried to comply with her brother's wishes and moved one of her legs forward. Ella, bored, just yawned and crawled swiftly towards her brother sitting by the couch on the other side of the living room. Harry sighed as he picked her up. "Aww, Ella, Denise really wanted to walk... and what'd you do? Crawl here." He grouched, but settled her in his lap, while Denise got on all her four again and crawled over to them, barreling her body into them at top speed, jealous that Ella got all the attention. Harry grunted. Will sniggered in the background. "Is not funny, she almost got it."

Martin, Will's friend from their days in the army, smiled at them too. "You know, Hal, when they realize how much fun it is to be tall, they will stand up and take those first steps. Then you will be sorry for making this wish." Harry sent him a playful stink eye. Not many people actually called him Hal, but for an occasional nickname, it was nice, and Martin liked Harry's reasons for taking that name, simple as that. ("I liked it in one of the Shakespeare's plays." Harry admitted when he arrived to Denmark few days ago, for the first time seeing Will's friend from his days in service. He introduced himself as Hal and when Martin inquired from which name it is short, Harry retaliated wittily. Martin smiled at him. "That's good choice, there." Harry grinned. "But I also like Hal Jordan, you know, Green Lantern. Did you know his full name is Harold? We practically share names! But I think my biological parents were merciful in that regard..." He trailed off uncertainly. Martin blinked and then laughed out loud. "Wow, did not think of that. Good job, Will, this guy is a properly educated fella and still a proper boy at the same time.")

"Nah," Hal shrugged. "It will be fun when they can train with me, too." Rachel came back from kitchen to hear only that particular statement. "Yeah, no, Harry, that will wait a few years regardless." He pouted. Denise spat another bubble. Ella, not about to be bested by her younger sister, started to drool. Rachel reached for the tissues. Teething is not fun. Not at all.

Harry spent most of his afternoons in the garden, Martin had a nice house with only a few minutes walk to the beach, and Harry absolutely loved it here. He felt... well, so much more alive than ever before in his physical form. He could almost touch the... force, that power permeating the air around him, and the brownies, and all sorts of fair folk admiring him from distance, well, that was a nice touch up. He was doing his exercises when he spotted a woman on the street nervously looking around. She was wearing trousers with purple blouse and a jacket meant for men was hanging on her arm. She kept looking at a piece of yellowed paper in her hands, mumbling under her breath. Harry immediately thought she's lost - that or she was acting suspicious on purpose.

Martin chose that moment to get out and spotted her. He leaned over the fence and smiled. "Hello, there," he said in Danish. "Can we help you?" She looked up and apologetically shrugged, stating in English that she unfortunately does not speak Danish. Martin repeated the question in English and then she finally stuttered: "Yes, I am looking for Harry Potter and his family?" Harry frowned and inched closer to the doors. No one said that name in a while. And no one should say it again as it was sealed by the judge. It bodes no good thing that in Denmark, country he was visiting for the very first time, someone knows it, use it and is looking for him and his family. Martin frowned and squared his shoulders. As a former soldier, it was quite an intimidating gesture. "Why are you looking for him?"

The woman immediately looked relieved. "So you do know him, thank god. My name is Eve Milligan, I was sent to speak with Mr. Potter about his admission." Martin eyed her, and said, "I don't know what you're on about, miss, but I don't know any Harry Potter." She furrowed her eyebrows. "But you just... surely,..." She frowned and then recited Martin's address to him. "I was told that he would be here. Is this your address?"

Martin's face went red. "Leave, lady, or I am going to call the police!" Eve looked enraged. Harry bolted to the house, not wanting to be spotted, but as luck would have it, the suspicious lady looked in his direction and gasped in surprise.

Harry thought to himself that his luck is sentient and decides when it's the worst time to rear its ugly head.

To Harry's surprise the police was not called and Ms. Eve Milligan left on her own account. Nor Martin or Hal mentioned that brief encounter to Will and Rachel. Unfortunately though, that was not the end to the weird happenings of that day. An hour later the heavens opened, so typical of Denmark, bringing a nice summer shower. "And to think we escaped England for this," Will sighed. The family mostly retreated inside, not in a mood to go anywhere and Rachel just left for the kitchen to make the tea when the doorbell rang. Will, drooling Ella in his arms, volunteered to open the door. And was met with a plump looking woman in bright yellow dress, no jacket and no umbrella, totally unsuited to the weather currently raging in Denmark, but not wet at all, who introduced herself as Professor Pomona Sprout, looking for Harry Potter. "There is no Harry Potter here." Will growled and Pomona frowned. "I am sorry, I do not want to be a bother, I must have been misinformed then. I have an invite for Harry to join the school I represent. Do you know where I might find him?"

"School? What school?" Pomona smiled. "It's a selective boarding school in Scotland, Harry's name has been in our register ever since he was born. His parents wanted him to study there, both graduates. Do you know where I might find him, then?" Will eyed her, and Ella, in a great reminiscence of her father, eyed Professor Sprout too, spitting another bubble to intimidate her. She knew how adults reacted to that particular action. Pomona disappointed her, as she only smiled at her. "I have no idea how'd you find us, Harry's case has been sealed." Will glared and Pomona looked confused. "I am sorry?" She genuinely looked confused and while this whole affair has been strange, Will sighed tiredly, used to glaringly strange by now. "You've been asking with wrong name. Come in. I presume you have no idea what's happened..."

Martin peeked into the garden, where Harry was cocooned with a blanket under a gazebo with Denise, hiding from the heavy downpour. Martin took a moment to study Hal, who was reading out a fairy tale he wrote just the day before. It was about an outcast deer befriending a wild boy that grew up under a tree stump. Martin shook his head, Will and Rachel had a really talented boy and even though he was not theirs by blood, the similarities tended to shine through in every moment. He might not have been born to them, but they were his parents alright. "Hal?" he called. Hal looked up curiously. "There's someone waiting for you inside."

Harry nodded, "Just a second, I'll finish the story."

Pomona heard the call from the living room where she was seated, talking with Rachel about teaching unruly children, and furrowed her eyebrows in mild confusion. "Hal?"

"Just a nickname he kind of chose for himself. Officially, his name is Harry James Pool, it was changed when the adoption process came through." Pomona looked startled. "So, you're his mother?" Rachel nodded. "Yes, of course. Will, my husband, and I adopted him few years ago." Pomona looked as if she finally realised something. "Oh, that explains the confusion with the names then, I thought you were his aunt and uncle. I was told that he's supposed to be with them?" Rachel's eyes darkened all of a sudden. Pomona realised she struck something she shouldn't have. "I am sorry, if I said something wrong..." Rachel shook her head. "No, you probably wouldn't have known. Harry... well, suffice to say, his stay with his blood relatives was horrible. He was neglected, abused... and it almost resulted in his death. Fortunately, a police officer found him and got him help before that could happen." Pomona gasped, "Oh my goodness." Rachel nodded. "Do you remember the case of child abuse in news few years ago? Victor Frost?" Pomona, aware that it probably would have been a big case, shook her head, "No, sorry."

"Well, they found a boy on a playground half dead and frostbitten, after his family chased him out the night before on Christmas Eve, media called him Victor Frost," Rachel explained all of the case thoroughly, including the process before they got Harry in their custody. Pomona, shaking, asked for more tea.

Harry stepped in at that moment, Denise drooling on his shoulder, and immediately looked confused, "What's going on?" Martin smiled, clapping his hands, "Well, I'll go to town and shop for some more groceries, it seems we will have a guest for dinner." Pomona shook her head, "Oh no, I do not want to be a bother and I do have to be somewhere in few hours." Martin shrugged. "Well, just in case. Just so you know, I make brilliant fish and chips. These Brits here love it!" He jerked his head towards his guests, who smiled sheepishly, and went to get his car keys.


Rachel stared ahead, placing this afternoon as the fifth most bizarre in her life. The first four positions were currently held by Will's proposal, a funny story, really, the pregnancy (as she was supposed to be unable to have kids with Will) and Harry's revelation of his abilities and shenanigans happening in their household following that occasion. But even she thought that a discovery that a hidden society lives alongside them without being aware of it at all, well, that's kind of pushing it. Though what truly takes the cake, is that they are wizards and witches, who secluded themselves in Dark Ages in fear of prosecution. Yes, that makes sense - in Dark Ages. Why not step up now she had no idea, although human kind is far from perfect, she imagined no actual bloodshed would be taken, only in extreme cases and children that are born with these powers, such as Harry, or the muggleborns Pomona mentioned, would have more chances for a happy childhood if people actually knew what was going on. But part of her was secretly glad that they have not stepped up and revealed themselves. She did not like the sound of the laws that classify people without magic as second class citizens, not that Pomona truly realised how it sounds like to her, using magic to play around with their brains... She looked at Harry. How would they even do it? And that was not even the worst of the news Pomona delivered. Harry's family and the tragic end they met...

Rachel wasn't sure how to feel about that. On one hand, this series of truly devastating and sad events brought Harry to them. On the other hand, no almost eleven year old should hear that his biological parents were murdered in front of him and he defeated the wizard that did it. Somehow. Wizarding population must be truly powerful, if Harry, as a curious child, is a good example of a really powerful budding wizard.

"Would it be okay for you to display some magic?" She asked and Pomona nodded. "Well, of course." And then to Rachel's surprise, she reached into her purse taking out a - twig. She raised her eyebrows. Why on Earth would she need a twig? Will, on the other hand, froze while stealing short glances towards frowning Harry, who looked like he swallowed something sour. Rachel squinted at them both. Will, noticing his wife's laser eyes first, shifted in his seat. Harry followed short after.

Pomona, not aware of the looks exchanged, waved her twig and then - the tea in her cup froze solid. Pomona passed the teacup to Rachel, and yes, that explains it, it must be a wand then, not a simple twig. Harry frowned. "What did you do?" He asked and Pomona launched into a whole exhausting explanation on magic. She launched into explanation on Herbology, a subject she is teaching and has a Mastery in, Potions, Charms,... The explanations, with various interruptions, lasted a long time. Rachel was grateful Martin was still in town. Because with every word uttered, Rachel sunk more into despair. Harry's powers seems so much different from hers... maybe it has something to do with hereditary traits in individual families?

"What about shape-shifting? And to do magic, do you always need a wand?" Rachel asks, thinking of her son's power to turn into bats, robins, and so on. God knows that while he's walking as an astral projection, he could disguise even his human form, shifting to look like he is actually her biological son. Sometimes, she thought he looked like he is even when not walking around half see through. Pomona pursed her lips. "Well, to answer your question about wands first, most branches of magic require it. In youth, children experience bouts of accidental magic, which they mostly cannot control. As a child, I used to change the colour of clothes or such, which is a rather typical for accidental magic, and children do not require wand for that. However, with age comes mastering of one's magic and then the wand is essential. But yes, there are various magical talents or branches that do not require it. But even then wand is sometimes most essential. To answer your question about shape shifting, I could give you an example of an animagi, wizards and witches who can change shape into an animal, incredibly rare and dangerous, only masters in the field of Transfiguration attempt the change, and they do need a wand in the beginning. Once they do, they are registered with our Ministry. I think there are seven of them, at the moment, including my colleague, professor McGonagall, she can turn into a tabby cat." Rachel frowns. "Only one form?" she enquired and Harry looked startled. "Yes, of course. Transfiguration is an incredibly hard field to work in and even partial change is considered an achievement." Harry released a quiet sigh of disappointment. Rachel thought of the zoo her son can change into and swallowed the fer rising in her chest.

"There is also another, much, much rarer talent called Metamorphmagi, wizards and witches that changes on will their features. You cannot learn to do it, wand or no wand. You have to be born with that talent, it is limited only to certain families. Incredibly rare, I believe my student who graduated last year is the only one in Britain at the moment..." She paused. "But there are other ways of changing one's appearance. There are also potions, glamours. Human transfiguration. If you are interested, Harry, you could study it in Transfiguration, Charms and Potions, but that is really advanced learning. I'd say you wouldn't touch it until your NEWTs, the equivalent to muggle A levels, I believe." She advised Harry and Rachel bit her lip. Not good at all.

"So if I understand it correctly, every wizarding family possess different magic?" Pomona seemed to think harder on this one. "Well, not as such. Yes, there are things, such as inclination of one's magic to one subject to another, or talents like Metamorphmagus, rare as they are, and spells and rituals passed on to the next generation, the magical prowess and the size of one's magical core, but inherently, we all have the same capability for magic. I am sorry, this is a branch of magic I never studied and to be honest, it is still a field that we did not fully explore."

"Did Harry's family had any of those rare talents you speak of?" Rachel asks carefully and her heart almost stopped beating when Pomona shook her head. "No, as far as I know, the Potter family did not display any and Lily was a muggleborn. Maybe Harry's ancestors did, as the Potters intermarried a lot, but should Harry had one of those, as having more than one is highly improbable, magic is quite a jealous thing, you would notice right away." Rachel pursed her lips. "Alright then. Harry, do you have any questions?" Rachel turned towards her son and Harry nodded silently.

"Yeah, I guess. Can wizards read minds?" Pomona pursed her lips. "Yes, there are means to do so, but it is an incredibly hard work, children your age should not even try it, and mastering it takes some people years if they ever master it at all! But it is not a skill that people look at favourably." Rachel really did not like the direction of this conversation. "Oh." Harry intoned, stumped. "Are there any classes about the fey? You haven't mentioned them at all." Pomona raised her eyebrows, as if amused by an incredibly silly question. "No, Harry, I have lots of my muggle born students asking me that or a variations of it, but no, we do not, as there is no evidence that fey or good folk as muggles depict them exist. But we do have various magical creatures that we offer classes on from third year onward as an elective. If you choose it, you can study unicorns, dragons, and all sorts of magical animals and beasts. Many people choose this subject because they wish to be tamers of magical beasts." She smiled gently. Rachel could tell Harry was horrified, but he pressed on, "Oh, that's a shame. Do you have means to talk to animals then?" Will laughed, but it sounded forced. "Harry loves his animals." They should back off, Rachel thought nervously, but Pomona only shook her head. "I am sorry to say that we do not have the means to do that, though there is... this one talent that enables people to speak with snakes, but again, that is an incredibly rare talent and I am afraid to say that people perceive it as a dark trait." Harry looked up at her. "Dark?" Pomona sighed. "I wish I wasn't the one who has to explain this to you, dear. The Dark Arts, or dark magic, is a magic that manipulates, control, causes harm or even brings death to living beings."

Harry scrunches his face. "How is it considered a dark talent then, to speak with snakes?"

"It's about perceptions you see, the wizards possessing this particular magic, well, they were not the nicest bunch. The wizard that killed your parents was one." Oh. Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose. They are not getting good news today at all. "What about Resurrection then? Is that a light magic by definition?"

"No!" Pomona gasps, outraged and seemingly afraid. "That's the darkest magic out there, lad!" Will bit his lip and Harry went pale. "Oh," Rachel tried to save it, "so ghosts don't exist?" Harry sent his mother a grateful look. "Oh, no, on the contrary, there are a lot of them, but they were not created by any sort of dark magic... They are the spirits of people unable to move on to the next life due to a regret that binds them to our plane. Professor Binns, our History of Magic teacher, is a ghost himself. The sad thing is, no matter what, dead are just shades of who they used to be, just memories caught here, without any chance of learning and moving on. No progress, no magic. Just like a photography, just a memory trapped in time."

Rachel sent a desperate look towards Will and fear stricken Harry. No good news at all.

Pomona shook their hands when she was departing. "It was lovely to meet you all today. I understand that you need time to think over whether to send Harry to school or possibly hire tutors for him, but I would need an answer from you as soon as possible. Would it be alright if I came back next week the same time?" Rachel tilted her head. "That's Harry's birthday."

"Oh, yes, unfortunately, that is the deadline we have for completing the first years' register," Pomona nods her head in sympathy. "Would it be alright then to come on the 30th?" Rachel, resigned, nodded and Pomona flashed them another small smile before turning on the spot and disappearing. Literally. Curious. Rachel wondered if Harry could do something similar. But never mind that at the minute. "Alright, now tell me what you know, because I know you know something," Rachel hissed at her only son and husband. Both stiffened under her Medusa like gaze.


Dinner was a quiet affair. Harry kept going over the letter Pomona handed him, scoffing every so often, or studying the list of required items for the next term, and Rachel couldn't help but sigh every time he did so. Martin took one look at the letter Harry did not manage to hide quickly enough, and exclaimed, "Why didn't you tell me he's a wizard?" To which no one had an answer. Turned out Martin is a squib, practically the opposite of muggleborn, born to a family of wizards and witches without enough magical powers to get him to a school and train him. Martin was apparently very lucky and his family got him a great new life, which does not happen all that often, as he emphasised, but he did not keep in touch with his family and wizarding news did not interest him all that much, especially British news, and so he barely knew of the war Pomona Sprout described to them. Slowly, this afternoon kept gaining the points for the spot of the most ridiculous afternoon of Rachel's life.

"What do you think then," Will asked Martin slowly, "is it a good idea to send him to this... boarding school?" Rachel nodded along. She wasn't sure what to think of the school as well. No literacy classes, no maths until third year apparently and that's only elective... Her inner teacher seethed. Although she understood that as wizards they would need a different curriculum, completely disregard essential skills in life... And what's more, she was not completely sure her son even is a wizard. He just didn't fit the picture painted. And going away would mean giving up his social life, his hobbies, his gymnastics, his guardian spirits that tended to just strut around their house and garden whenever they wanted to,... And she was not sure how interrupting his routine would affect his, even if admittedly improved, mental health.

Martin sighed loudly and slumped in his chair, a sign that something is seriously wrong, because his nature of a soldier rarely let him do something so undignified. "I honestly cannot answer that." Rachel did not take that as a good sign either way. "I never went there, obviously. And it is certainly a prestigious school in Europe, but if it is a good idea to send Hal there? I am not so sure about that." Harry looked up with the mention of his name. "Why do you think so?" Hal asked, playing with the yellowed parchment. By the way, Rachel really hoped it's made differently than the one used in middle ages. Because if not,... "Well," Martin tried to lighten up the mood, "because that would mean you'd have to give up your tapes and comics, my dear Hal!" But he looked at Rachel, as if he wanted to speak with her when Harry could not listen to their conversation.

Harry gasped. "And the radio shows! I can't go! Mum!"

Of course comic books would do it for him, Rachel thought with a bittersweet smile and looked up to her husband, who, realising the decision has been made, smiled at her. They will pull through. But one thing was for sure. Their main question still remained unanswered. What is really Harry James Pool? He is their son, their blessing, and a person they will unconditionally love until their lives end and beyond, but what he isn't? Well, so far it seems that he is not a changeling, mutant, meta-human and it seems that wizard made that list as well.


The day before Harry's birthday the whole household waited with baited breath for the arrival of Pomona Sprout. They of course discussed the whole matter thoroughly throughout the week they have been given until they all agreed upon a solution.

Martin, when he was sure Hal couldn't listen in, asked Will and Rachel if they knew about the various fey critters that kept flocking in his garden to catch a glimpse of Harry. When they admitted that they did, and knew that most of those are nowhere near powerful enough to hurt him, Martin seemed as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. "How long since you discovered them?" he asked, and although he seemed significantly calmer, he still carried himself straight, as if he was afraid to speak about it out loud. As if talking about it would bring something powerful their way. "It's been a while," Will said carefully, concerned for his old friend as he kept fidgeting in his chair. "Years, even. We have been gifted with the Sight only few weeks after Harry shared his secrets..." Martin looked incredulous. "Do you realise how weird it is for them to act like this?" He gestured towards the window, where coincidentally, a small creature with pigeon's wings and pig's snout was pressing its face on the glass of the window. When it realised there wasn't really anything to see, it snorted and flew off.

Rachel frowned. "They've always acted like this," she said slowly after a moment of silence. "It's like Harry is a sun, like he is shining and they follow that shine and they bask in it as much as they could, revering that light, until..." She grew silent, recounting the moments small butterfly pixies were caught in her hair, how many times various muddy creatures lurked around their property, sneaking glances through their fence... "It almost seems like they get a headache after too much time spent in his presence." That's how it's always been. And they were afraid at first, but...

"Do you realise how dangerous that is?!" Martin shouted, angry. "This is not normal behaviour, believe me. I have been in their presence all of my life and if something catches their fancy, it is only a matter of time before they take it away to play with! And if something catches the fancy of the small ones, it is only a matter of time before the nobles get curious and then you can be sure it's not going to be pretty! Wizards are largely oblivious to the courts, and the nobles don't take kindly to that." Rachel looked at Will helplessly. "We know," Will sighed. "And we were really afraid, but... Martin, we think Harry is not a wizard. For the longest time, we actually thought he is a changeling of some higher fey." Martin paused. "I don't understand. Why did he receive a letter then?"

Rachel took over again, "we do not know." She took a deep breath. "We do not know what he is, and frankly, we could care less, he is our son and as long as he's happy and safe... God. He is not a changeling, or a wizard. But he is safe in our home. He is protected. And the good folk actually never crossed the border of our property. Good grieve, Martin. What are we supposed to do?" Martin sagged in his chair. "For a start, do not let Hal go to Hogwarts."

That was not the only conversation the adults led in secret, but as Harry was a part of the dilemma, he insisted to be included in the decision making quite vehemently. They weighed the pros and cons for most of the next three days, until Harry sheepishly admitted that wands actually makes him nauseous. (Later, when Rachel gathered enough courage to ask, Harry described it is a disgusting piece of work that feels sticky, clouding his senses, but also could be sugary sweet, but ultimately smells either of despair or like something that's starting to rot, but some kind of power wants to bring it to life. Rachel could have lived without that knowledge.) This revelation almost concluded the entire debate, what is the point of him going to a school filled with these things if it's going to make him sick twenty four seven. At which the debate skipped onto the question if those wretched things, as Will bitterly retold the story of that wizarding family in Sherwood, are even going to work for Harry. Rachel was not even sure Harry will want to use it if it works, considering every time his eyes fell on that word on his list, he would either flinch or upturn his nose as if it was underneath his dignity anyway, never mind the urge to be sick when near it. Sometimes, she thought it was underneath her son's dignity as well.

In the end, Harry decided to stay home and his parents hummed their approval. He would move on to his secondary school as planned, continue his gymnastics, finally attend the creative writing courses he wanted, and on his free afternoons, he would study magic these wizards were offering. Harry argued it could offer insights about his powers, although Rachel was dubious about that one. Martin, on the other hand, beamed at Hal, congratulating him for his arguing skills. It would only come in handy later in his life.

So when the day finally came and the doorbell announced an arrival, everyone collectively released their baited breath, they could finally get this sorted.

Will opened the doors, expecting to see Pomona Sprout again, hoping it would be her again, considering her kind approach to their situation, but was instead met with an image of an old man resembling the common depiction of Merlin and an ageing, although considerably younger, witch with strict expression. "Good afternoon," said the Merlin look a like and Will could just feel another headache coming. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, I am the headmaster of Hogwarts, the school Harry was invited to attend, and this is my deputy head, Professor McGonagall." Will, inwardly frowning, shook hands with them, and invited them inside. He wondered about Pomona Sprout and what it meant for them that the headmaster decided to visit.

He situated the two professors in the lounge area and brought out tea and biscuits. The headmaster barely touched his tea, although he never stopped smiling, but Professor McGonagall thanked him and took a biscuit onto her saucer along with her cup of tea. Harry and Rachel walked into the room, confused looks painted on their faces. Denise and Ella were asleep, grumbling occasionally from their travel cot by the window. Martin, conveniently in Will's opinion, sneaked out to give them privacy. Will figured Martin did not want to meet the representatives of Hogwarts. He could definitely relate.

"Ah, Mr. Potter! My boy, you have grown up well!" Dumbledore exclaimed when Harry came in, but McGonagall seemed to study Will's son longer, scrutinising gaze lingering on his forehead. Rachel and Will bristled, "It's Mr. Pool. We have adopted Harry years ago." But even if Will was openly glaring at the headmaster of Hogwarts, it seemed as if he wasn't particularly bothered by his slip up. "Oh, my apologies. He just looks so much like Lily and James, it is unnerving. I am afraid that in my old age, I tend to linger in the past and be forgetful." McGonagall pursed her lips. It seemed like she disapproved of something.

"It is no problem, Headmaster Dumbledore. However, I prefer to be called Harry Pool, and not Potter. I am sorry to say I do not have fond memories of name Potter." Harry responded cooly and sat down next to Will, facing the two faculty members of Hogwarts. "And although I am flattered by the invitation to your prestigious school, I am afraid I will have to decline the offer."

Dumbledore grew silent, and Will could only narrow his eyes. While he did not doubt the man meant well, he did remind him of his old days in the army. Men that mean well give out orders. They are not in power because they are nice. He has seen the ridiculous amount of (absurd) position this wizard holds. There must be a reason for that. "Are you sure, Harry? Both of your parents studied in Hogwarts, and they would want you to do the same. Why, your name has been on our list since you were born." Will bristled, again. He spoke of Harry's biological parents in a tone that almost implied that they were the only parents that mattered. Harry, recognising the undertone of the conversation as well, looked up to his father for comfort. Will smiled gently at him. He is their son, now. No doubt his biological parents loved him, but Will and Rachel chose him as their son after they've gone. Harry chose his parents as well. He is carrying the name Pool now. He is a Pool.

Harry, gathering his courage, looked at the headmaster again. "My parents and I discussed this all week, and while I would like to be trained in magic, I do not wish to attend a boarding school and rather be home tutored." Dumbledore seemed very disappointed. "If you are sure, Harry, my boy..."

"Yes, I am." Harry sat up more straight, steeling his voice. "I want to be with my family while I learn magic." Dumbledore looked ready to press again, but McGonagall nodded. "That is acceptable. However, you must know that our laws require students that are home schooled attend the end of year exams either at Hogwarts or at the Ministry of Magic in London. If this is truly your decision, I have several pamphlets you can go through and once you are back in England, a ministry representative will be required to check your home and make sure you are prepared to be learning magic at home, especially since your parents are muggles. It is not going to be an easy road I am afraid."

Harry beamed at her and it seemed to lift the witch's mood, her lips twitching up at the corners. "Thank you, Professor. I hope you did not take this for an insult, but I am not suited to a boarding school I am afraid, as I have several ties that binds me to my town and my family." McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Well, you see, I was not... adopted under normal circumstances..." Harry fidgeted and Rachel took over for his sake. "After his Aunt's family has been sent to prison," McGonagall shot a furious look at stricken Dumbledore, "Harry had to undergo several operations and is actually still in therapy, attending a meeting with his psychologist every three weeks. We all agreed that changing his routine so drastically would be detrimental to his health. Homeschooling him in magic is the best compromise we could agree on. And his bright sports career would be completely stopped as well."

"Ah," Dumbledore nodded. "Those are good points. Well thought off. But I am afraid that I must bring up a delicate matter to light. When Harry was living with his Aunt, he was under the protection of very powerful wards and when he was taken away from his family," if Rachel could kill with looks, Dumbledore would be reduced to a pile of ashes, "the wards were rendered useless. I am sure Pomona explained Harry's fame in our world."

"Yes, she did," Rachel said curtly. "Another reason why we decided not to send Harry to Hogwarts." Dumbledore nodded sadly. "But Harry still has enemies in our world and you are painfully vulnerable." Rachel bit her tongue. She could not argue back or it could potentially put her son in danger. Dumbledore, as if in deep thoughts, stroked his beard. "The wards were bound to Lily Potter, Harry's mother. Maybe you could take in Mr. Dudley Dursley. It would put up the wards again and your home would be protected. It is only for your own good."

For the first time since the initial scares Harry had when he started living in them, he paled significantly and started shaking. Will, recognising the symptoms, barked a quick, "No!" And took his son into his arms, who was now short of breath and ran out of the room.


Rachel was about to stand up as well, but seeing Will had it in control, she angrily turned to Professor Dumbledore instead. "Who exactly do you think you are, making these demands? I can assure you though, that this will happen under no circumstances," she said curtly. "No one by the name of Dursley will live under our roof. Is that clear?!" Dumbledore frowned. "Mrs. Pool, I do not think you realise what kind of danger Harry is really in." Rachel huffed. "Of course I understand. No rebellion is without two sides and I bet some people who followed that dark wizard or are sympathising with him are at large. But I am sure these wards are not the only ones in existence that could protect our family."

Denise and Ella sniffed from their cot and the room descended into silence, waiting if the twins will wake up. They didn't and Rachel glared harder. And then, to her surprise, Professor McGonagall nodded. "Yes, there are wards available. I could give you contacts for some wards masters and they could, for a price, ward your property for you." Dumbledore looked as if she betrayed him. "But they would not be as effective as -" Rachel held up her hand. "I don't care. No wards are worth it if my son will suffer. I am asking for the last time. Is that clear?" By the look on Dumbledore's face, crystal.


Minerva McGonagall sat by the fireplace and contemplated her day. Ten years, and what came out of it. She thought of the boy with dark hair that shone red in the right light, with wide green eyes and microscopic scars on his body. No lightning bolt. No, that scar was overrun by others. She gripped her mug tighter in her hold. She told Albus what those muggles are worth. He didn't listen. And now Harry Potter will not attend her classes. She will not see the legacy her favourite students left grow up and learn. No... It was not to be. His name is Harry Pool. And he did not resemble his biological parents as much as he should. She frowned, she could swear she knew those features... She's seen them somewhere...


Notes: Hi, I am not really sure how to apologise for the really late update. That's why it does not resemble an apology at all, btw. There are several reasons for this being so fricking late. This chapter has been a nightmare, for one. Buggering me every time I laid my eyes on my notes, but never progressing. Characters being a pain in the ass. Plot biting my fingers every time I wanted to delve more into it. Decision of Hogwarts vs Homeschooling... But ultimately, life caught up to me again. Uni is in session now. I have other responsibilities, like keeping up with bills, rent and so on. And my texts has just been lying around. I truly admire people who can write a chapter a day and not be behind everything. I will try to do a chapter every six weeks or so, but I am afraid I will not be able to keep up and I am sorry, readers. I am not the writer you want me to be. And I am really sorry.

I would be very glad for feedback though, because English is my second language and I always welcome suggestions of how I can improve this story so everyone can enjoy it.

See you laters, Haihai