Coming Home

Harry Potter was having his first ever opportunity to learn something known by generations of children before him. Since in the Dursley house, punishment was always a raging expression of immediate explosive anger, he had never had to "wait for it" before. It was just "there"... "boom". Now, however, he was discovering the unpleasant truth that the only thing that may be worse than getting punished, was waiting to get punished. He had seen Ron, or others of his friends go through this, but had never experienced it for himself.

Two o'clock finally arrived, and Harry walked miserably into Professor McGonagall's office and classroom. He stood stoically in front of her desk as she made extremely clear her philosophy on "school rules", the "breaking" of school rules, and the consequences borne by those who chose to break school rules. The "boundary wards" were a rule, a commandment, not a recommendation or a suggestion.

She then made him disclose exactly what happened, what his thought and decision process was, and how he could and should have handled the situation differently. She only prompted when she felt he was minimizing or hiding something.

When he had finished, and she was satisfied, she told him he was to have three days of detention, of one hour each, working for Mr. Filch on whatever chore he assigned. She walked to her desk to examine his class schedule, assigning the detentions for Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of the next week, from 3:00 to 4:00 each of those days. She said she'd considered suspending him from the Quidditch Team, and having him sit out the Slytherin game next week... which caused him to gasp in alarm and nearly speak out of turn.

"But..." she raised her finger, saving him from this mistake as he refrained from talking... "I've decided instead to see how you behave this coming week. If there are no more infractions, you may practice with the team and play in the game. However... if there is any more foolishness..."

Which caused him earnestly to shake his head and volunteer, "Oh, no, Professor. There won't be. I promise."

"Verra well, then. We'll see," and she turned back to the papers she was grading when he had come in. "You're dismissed, Mr. Potter."

Harry stood there, hesitating...

"You may GO, Mr. Potter."

"Um, Professor?" he didn't move as he addressed her timidly.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Did you have a note you wanted me to take to Professor Konstantyn?"

She smiled. "No, Mr. Potter. I shall see to its delivery myself. It is not typical to send a note home to parents about a child's misbehavior, via the child him or herself. It's a bit too easy for 'accidents to happen' if you catch my meaning. Now, you may go."

"Yes, ma'am," and the youngster turned a bit miserably and left.

Minerva watched him exit from under the brim of her hat, and smiled gently realizing, "well, he certainly took that and reacted like naught more than a simple 'little boy'. Pavel's approach may just help the lad yet." She then took out a small piece of parchment and began composing exactly the note for Pavel that she would write if this were going to Molly and Arthur Weasley about Ron.

Paul and John were in the Residential Tower, doing some "refurbishing and interior design". After lunch the Konstantyn's had taken a few minutes to speak with Albus, to see if there was any objection to moving John to the apartment next to Pavel's, and if they could adjust walls and space to make a "room" for Harry. Albus had already offered Pavel a full time permanent teaching position, and that had been accepted, with the provision that from time to time he may travel to teach limited seminars or conferences. Since all of them had seen the home conditions Harry had lived under, including being granted "Dudley's second bedroom", Albus was all for the idea that Pavel and John could make a real bedroom for Harry, converting the Konstantyn/Constantine apartments into a suite.

It was rather amazing watching them work together on such a project. Pavel's masteries were in mind, forces, and time arcana. He was nearly to mastery in Prime... the essence of magic itself. While John could never attain the fullness of a mage's absolute mastery, he was highly skilled... more skilled than Pavel... in matter, space, and death arcana. So, as they began their project, both of them walked to the stone walls of Hogwarts in their apartments, and "communed" with the spirit of the stone and the magic of Hogwarts. Not to make their intentions clear, and offer the castle the opportunity to "grant permission" seemed... rude. The castle seemed delighted, and the spirits of the stones offered themselves willingly to form a protective and restful space for one of their students who'd never known such comfort.

The two of them spent the next hour looking like "conductors" as their hands fashioned and shaped new walls, a fireplace or two - and were connected into the floo network, bookshelves and comfortable furniture transfigured and arranged, and even the castle portraits moved a bit. John did most of the "heavy lifting" in all of this, as he could flow matter and warp space to make everything fit perfectly. He even got to exercise his death skills, dealing with some of the pricklier folk of the portraits, who didn't take to change very well most of the time.

When they finished, the entire apartment was just glorious. Each of their bedrooms were suited perfectly to their tastes. Everyone had outside windows... important for ready flight access. The central space had both an "entertainment area", like a parlor, and a quieter section like a relaxing nook, with a couple chairs and side tables. They could see themselves sitting there near the fireplace reading, or playing chess or a boardgame. The two of them thought they had organized, furnished, and decorated Harry's room perfectly... Gryffindor colors, comfortable four poster bed, soft rugs on the floor, his own fireplace, a very well designed desk and study chair, lots of bookshelf space, wardrobe, cabinet for toys and the inevitable kid's "stuff", and even his own "conversation pit" of chairs and a table for entertaining his friends, should he choose to have them come. The room was spacious without seeming institutional, and cozy without seeming cluttered.

John looked it over and said, "Papa, I think it's perfect, but we should get a second opinion from someone who knows him better. Let's call Auntie to come have a look, eh?"

"Great idea. I agree," as he decided to also ask Wilfried what he thought. Just as he was about to "floo call" Minerva - since he reserved "mental intrusion" for emergency or urgent situations, Harry spoke to him mentally. Casting a Tempus charm, Pavel realized it was 2:30, so Harry had finished with Minerva, and probably spent some time alone fretting.

"Professor? Can you hear me?" Harry's voice asked a bit tentatively.

"Yes, Harry. I will hear you any time you will specifically to speak to me, and articulate clear words," he responded. "I know it seems a bit strange, but you'll get used to it. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Well, sir, I've seen Professor McGonagall, and I'm not sure what to do right now. I'm not sure what I'm allowed to do right now. I know I'm in trouble, but..."

"I see, Harry. Well, you've done a VERY good thing to check with me, in that you aren't sure what trouble you're in or what would be permissible. I do not yet have Professor McGonagall's note, so... until you and I deal with that, let us just go on with Saturday. For the moment then, did the Professor restrict you in any way?"

"No, sir. I just have three days detention with Mr. Filch coming this week."

"All right, then since you are feeling well enough, go on about your free time for now. You may even ride your broom if you wish... However..."

"You don't even need to say it, Professor. I'll stay so far from the boundaries..."

"Very well. No stunt flying without your mouthpiece, and I shall call you when it's time to come see me. All right?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Have fun and stay out of trouble, please."

"Yessir," and he bounced outside to enjoy what was left of a sunny afternoon on his broom.

He walked to his fireplace, addressed his floo to Minerva's office, and said, "Professor McGonagall? Are you free?"

She pushed away the parchments she was grading, walked to her fireplace and said, "I'm certainly willing to be. Do you need something?"

"Only a second opinion, if you'd be kind enough to step through to my quarters," and she came through in a twinkling, batting floo powder residue from her robes. "John and I have been doing some 'home improvement', and wanted to know what you thought. We've made Harry a room here, and combined our two apartments. But you know his tastes better than we do without prying in his head, so if there are posters, or banners, or the like that would make this more his..."

Pavel stepped aside as he opened Harry's door, and Minerva was dumbstruck. The room was gorgeous... she wished hers was as nice. And all she could offer was that his favorite Quidditch team was the Chudley Cannons, and she summoned the posters right away. Banners might be nice too, right over here... And she walked about happily making one minute adjustment after the other for about 15 minutes or so.

"Oh, Pavel... it will mean so much to him! Well done!" and she nearly misted up.

"I don't deserve the praise, John did all the work. I just helped a bit here and there, but he's the space and matter wizard. He seems to have gotten on well with Hogwarts, nonetheless. The Castle seems pleased with the work."

"Oh, and Auntie!" John chimed in excitedly, "We didn't show you the coolest part yet. Look here!" and John opened a door leading off of the parlor, that should have led into his own apartment side's sitting area, and instead they were looking at the staircase landing next to the Fat Lady's Portrait. "Since student's aren't permitted to walk around the hallways of the Staff Residence wing, students will have their own entrance to these quarters so that Harry and those he chooses to have visit won't run afoul of the privacy rules. I put it so near the Gryffindor entrance so that if he's here past curfew some time, he's less likely to get in trouble or be tempted to roam the halls on his way back to his dorm."

Minerva admired the invention, then laughed saying, "Paul, I foresee a potential 'challenge' here."

"What's that, kind lady?"

"Your son is too clever by half. I have a terrible feeling that he and Harry will find themselves aligning in mischief or trouble more successfully together, than Harry would on his own."

John looked a picture of startled innocence, and placed his flattened palm over his heart, saying, "Moi? Auntie, you cut me to the quick!"

Pavel just chuckled, saying, "No fear, Madame. John knows well, if he and Harry get in trouble together, they will both face the same consequences together as well. I'll not play favorites or spoil either one of them. And let me go ahead and say this right now in front of you both. Minerva, if YOU catch them out of order together, I encourage you to do the same. Feel free."

"Papa! Throw me under the bus why don't you?!" John laughed.

"Oh, no, my son. If you climb under that bus on your own, that's entirely on you, not me! Now, I'm going to ask Wilfried to bring some tea, and we'll see what he thinks of the new digs. Will you join me?"

"Oh, Master!" Wilfried marvelled, as he responded to Pavel's summons. The space had been given the Old World feel of his home in the Ukraine, and was reminiscent enough of the little house elf's past to move him to awed silence.

"So, you approve then," Pavel smiled, patting the servant's shoulder. "Would you be kind enough to bring us a pot of tea and some small nibbles besides. I leave it to your judgment. We shall christen the new 'parlor' here," and the elf popped away in a flash.

They made their way to seats, and when Minerva sat, they did as well.

"Oh, Paul," she seemed to remind herself, reaching into a pocket of her robe. "Here is your 'note home'. Harry wanted to bring it himself, I think just to shorten the suspense and waiting time, but I told him that was not the 'done thing'."

"Ah..." Pavel said, smiling as he held this in his hand. "Perhaps I should frame this, or bronze it, or something. It has been a very VERY long time since I've received one of these!"

John coughed, "And YOU weren't usually the first one to receive it, if I could have anything to do with it."

"That's true! Mother always dealt with these first, and then... 'eased me into it'... when I got home. I suspect that you, John, will be providing that service for our young ward. I see that you and he have bonded, and he seems to trust you already. That is wonderful. You can teach him so much, and you have 'built in credibility' since you too are my 'son'. You've already advocated for him to me twice, and softened my approach. Should I hand you this note to review first, before I read it?" he laughed.

"No, Papa. I think with Auntie sitting right here as the author, that would be a wasted gesture."

Pavel opened the note to read: "Dear Professor Konstantyn, this morning your ward, Harry Potter, committed very serious violations of Hogwart's Rules designed to ensure the safety of all. He willfully and deliberately breached the security of the school's boundary protective wards, and entered into the Forbidden Forest which is strictly off limits to unsupervised students. He has been severely reprimanded, and will this week perform 3 days of punitive chores and detention. You are being notified as this is not the behavior we expect of Hogwarts students, and you may wish to express your own displeasure at his demeanor by whatever means seems most appropriate to you. Thanking you for your time and attention in this matter, I am, Very Sincerely Yours, Minerva McGonagall, Professor; Head Gryffindor House; Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Pavel smiled, and simply said, "Thank you, Madame. I shall address the situation this evening," whereupon he handed the note over to John. "It's a good thing I never received one exactly like this, on you... Or at least, I don't THINK I did. Your mother would probably have dealt with you, and 'accidentally lost' the note."

John chuckled, "No, Papa. That never happened. She'd have judged it 'dishonest', and we all just didn't do that. But there were a couple where I know she took great pains to assure that you were calm before we had our 'chat'. But goodness, Auntie. I never got one quite this pointed. And I'm really glad of that. This would have taken me a lot of tap dancing to get around."

"John, I'm a teacher, and I too have been a Deputy Head. No amount of tap dancing in the world would have 'gotten you around' that note. Thank you, Minerva. That is absolutely perfect. I am very grateful."

"What are you going to do, Paul? If I'm not prying..."

Paul smiled, "No unaskable questions, Minerva. No, I am going to show our new family member that there are consequences in a magical home for misbehavior that gets reported from school. And that those consequences may be aversive, as they are intended to be, but they have nothing to do with his nature, his acceptability, his security, or his safety. He is accountable for his behavior. Accountable to me, to this family, to you... just as we all hold ourselves accountable to one another.

"Professor McGonagall, is it acceptable for Harry to stay tonight in his new room? Perhaps we may even have dinner here together, Harry, John and I. Could you make our apologies at the High Table?"

"That will be fine. I'll see to it. It will be your first night to bide as a family. Noo do'nae ye go an skelp the wee bairn his first nicht a'home!" Minerva wagged that finger.

"You write me a note home like THIS," taking the parchment back from John, "and then say THAT to me!? Ye canna maek up yer muind, woman! Yir aff yir heid!" Pavel could not resist adding just a moment of a rare glamour to his voice. The look of utter shock on her face? Priceless.

Pavel laughed for a moment, then sobered, "I promise you, Minerva, I'll not lay a finger on the 'wee bairn'. He'll be fine. This is all in aid of his learning what a loving family is about, and that he now has one of his own. But for the awkwardness of his being punished right now, I'd ask you to dinner. Perhaps we can do that next week, if he can stay out of trouble long enough, eh?

"By the way, John? Would you be kind enough to go outside and let him know I've 'received his note'? He'll probably want to talk to you for a bit about... expectations. And then if you would, bring him in, and come yourself, and we'll have 'the chat' at 4:30 or so? I'd like to start being consistent with him, and probably in the same rhythms you and I used when you were a lad."

"Sure, Papa. Just... how much do you want me to tell him, or what do you want to reserve for yourself?"

Pavel thought about it a moment, "I don't think there's much you can't teach him. Be open and honest, you know what you don't know, and you can't predict exactly what I'll decide on a given issue, so... just answer what you can, and tell him the rest he'll need to ask me directly. Use your own judgment, I trust you. More importantly, so does Harry."

"All right... Papa..." slight bow, "Auntie..." kiss on the cheek, and John walked over to the nearest window and jumped out, transmuting into his raven form.

Harry was easy to spot from the air, so John flew close and landed below him, then used "mind talking" to address him. "Harry?" and the boy answered. "I'm on the ground near you. Please come land, let's talk a bit." And Harry obeyed. John tousled his hair as they began walking towards the Castle, "It's time to go in now. Papa got your note from Professor McGonagall." Harry stopped and his face turned pale.

"Is he... is he mad?" Harry asked, fearfully.

"No, not really. You have nothing to worry about. In fact, we're all going to have dinner together at 'our place'. Would you like that?"

"'Our place?' I don't know what you mean."

"Well, I don't want to ruin the surprise or anything, but you know Papa and I live in the Residential Tower, the Staff quarters, right?"

"Sure."

"And students aren't allowed through the door of that wing, so staff can have some privacy and such, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, Papa and I rearranged our quarters, building them together and giving you a separate entrance so that you can come 'home' when you want to. There's more, but I don't want to wreck it, so you'll just have to wait and see. We wouldn't be much of a family if we couldn't hang out together when we want to, and I can't see Papa and me kicking back in the Gryffindor Common Room, can you?"

Harry laughed, "No, not hardly.."

"So there we go. At 4:30, we're going to have a 'little chat'... and Papa's going to deal with that note and the events of this morning."

"Uh, huh..." Harry just let this sink in. "John, what's going to happen? What's he going to do to me?"

"I honestly don't know, Harry. I know most of what will 'happen' will be just talking among us. As to what he's going to do, well, I think that's going to depend a lot on how the talking goes."

"OK, I guess I'll just go ahead and ask... Is he likely to hit me, John? Ron and I were thinking, I might get walloped now. If he treats me like a 'son'. Didn't he hit you sometimes when you were a kid?"

"Harry, he is not going to wallop you, especially if by that you mean getting beaten with a belt. And if he follows the same rules with you that he did with me, he will never ever hit you, even to spank you, unless or until you ask him to. You've asked if he sometimes hit me when I was a kid. Yes, yes he did. But ONLY when I asked for the spanking, instead of an alternative penalty. This universe, this life, is nothing like what you've known before. Papa's most typical sanctions are to do chores, tiresome or messy chores without the use of magic. When he's REALLY out to make a point, he would ground me... and it was severe. Grounded to my room, speak when spoken to when not in my room. I could get grounded for weeks, even going to school. But that was reserved for when I got in really serious trouble.

Again, John could see Harry just mulling this over... "So, how or when did you ever get hit?"

"From about the age of 5 or 6 on, if I didn't want to do the chore or chores, or if I didn't want to be grounded or grounded as long as the sentence, I could go to him and hand him a small paddle that was mine for this alone. We would talk, and if he felt correction was still called for, he'd swat me a few times on the bum with that paddle. It was always over my clothes, and it always hurt like the dickens, and I always cried. But, when it was over we'd hug it out and go play chess. I'd lie on my stomach on the living room floor, and he'd sit on the floor cross-legged, and by an hour after the spanking dinner would be ready, and I could bounce on a chair and not feel a thing. Plus, my mum always made my favorite dessert, which almost made the paddling worthwhile itself," John laughed.

"Do you think he'd do that to me?" Harry swallowed hard.

"No, Harry. No way. This was all messed up for you when you were that age. You've never known 'correction' the way I'm describing. For you, it was violent beating, and injury, given with rage and uncontrolled temper, for things that weren't even your fault or decision. No, Harry. I'm pretty sure Papa's going to be the same with you as he was with me, and he'll never cause you pain unless or until you feel real trust and confidence in his correction. Your life has taught you fear. Papa's not going to feed into that. You will learn to respect him and heed his authority. You'll learn obedience, because he will 'up the ante' on rebelliousness until the price isn't worth it to you. But he doesn't have to use pain to do that. And he won't. He needs your respect and obedience, not fear. And you can trust to that.

"I tell you what, Harry, I'll make you a deal. My paddle was one of the first things I ever learned in transfiguration. I made it myself, and I adjusted it from time to time as I got older. It was only about 10 inches long, 4 inches wide, and 3/8 inch thick. Too light to do anything but sting. That is the only thing I was ever chastened with as a child. Now, when you're ready, if you ever are... you come and tell me, and I'll show you and help you make your own paddle. Papa would only use that, and nothing else ever, to chasten you... and that only when you put it in his hand and ask that he use it, because you prefer that to being grounded or chores or whatever. You never ever need to worry about him 'beating' you. It just won't happen. But until you can believe that, trust that, and have confidence enough for him to use that kind of correction, just don't fabricate your personal paddle. No problem. Fair enough? You got this? He won't beat you, not tonight, not ever... ok?"

"OK. Got it..." Harry smiled.

"Fine, now let's go face the music, shall we?"

"OK, I'm ready. By the way, did you and... the Professor... ever sort out what he was mad at you for?"

"Nope, Little Brother, which is why I think this 'little chat' may not just be for you alone. I think we're both on the carpet this time."

And for no reason at all, as the two of them made their way towards the Fat Lady's Portrait, Harry just threw his arms around John's waist and hugged him like there was no tomorrow. John dropped to one knee to return the hug, and saw Harry with tears in his eyes.

"What's the matter, frate mai mic? Are you still afraid?" as Harry buried his face in John's shoulder and sobbed softly.

"No. It's just I've never had a brother before, a big brother. I didn't know how good it could feel. I'm so glad you are here, and so glad you're my brother!" he cried softly, sniffling into John's shirt.

John just held him there for a moment, then since they were so close to Harry's portal, he just picked him up in his arms, and carried him to the secret door. Harry looked up as John pointed out the faint pattern on the wall where it opened to the stairs' landing. He waited for Harry's sniffling to subside and said, "OK, Harry, this is your very own magic door to 'our house'. It needs a password. What do you want to give it?"

Harry was stunned. The Hogwarts Houses had passworded portals. The Headmaster's Office had a passworded portal. But him? Harry? He now had one of his own? It stopped him cold in mid sniffle. "Quidditch Seeker", he said softly. He'd thought of "quidditch" alone at first, but realized how easy it would be for someone to be saying that word passing along the stairs. But those two words together... you never used them together, that should be safe.

"Very well, Harry," and John held him up with one arm as Harry clung to him with both arms thrown around his neck, then pressed his other palm into the center of the door saying quietly, "Quidditch Seeker". The portal turned black and then disappeared as they stepped straight into John and Pavel's living room.

Pavel had been sitting comfortably with a book when they walked in from "Harry's Door". He turned to them, saw John carrying Harry, saw the tears and redness on Harry's face, and said, "Harry, what's wrong? John? What did you do? I swear, if you've hurt Harry... I'll turn you over to your Aunt for correction!"

At which John and Harry looked straight into one another's faces. John just said, "See what I mean?" And they both broke down in waves of laughter.