Chapter Fourteen

Diagon Alley. Despite everything that was going on, this particular hub of the wizarding world still seemed to be quite the same. A little quieter, maybe, but that was to be expected. Not only was this an off-time of the year for travelers, but You-Know-Who was also back.

In any case, Michael was glad that he, Daphne, and Matthew didn't arrive only to find the place in ruins. The child deserved a good time which has started with their trip through the Floo network. Matthew was absolutely thrilled with it, though Michael noted that Daphne was just the opposite. She hated messes, and despite the fact that it was just a little dust, she complained. Well, at least that was back to normal. She always did seem happiest when she was complaining.

She also hadn't replied to his comment about children, though Michael didn't find that very odd. He figured she'd avoid it, but he was really just curious. After all, Daphne was awfully good with animals, and she seemed to like Matthew all right. It was almost as if she was afraid to care for anyone sometimes.

They were standing just outside the small stationary shop next to Quality Quidditch Supplies when Michael noticed something. He elbowed Daphne, and pointed to the little shop just down a side alley. "D'you see that?"

"Hm? What?"

"The Weasley Twins' joke shop. It's still open."

Daphne arched her eyebrows. "That's rather odd, don't you think? Considering..."

But Matthew was already tugging on the sleeve of her robe. "A joke shop! Can we go?"

Daphne glanced at Michael, who shrugged. "I guess so," she replied, allowing herself to be dragged towards the bright red awning. Michael followed after them, again struck by the sort of paradox that Daphne presented. On the one hand, she seemed somewhat annoyed about being dragged along by a small child. On the other hand, she wasn't complaining or pushing him away. She was actually being rather lenient… and she'd only known Matthew for a few weeks. It had taken Michael months to get her to trust him enough to be off her guard. The thought spurred a slight twinge of jealousy, but then he reasoned there was no point in being envious of a small child. Still, there were plenty of times when she pushed him away, physically and emotionally. It seemed that it was becoming a more common occurrence of late. He sighed, feeling the beginnings of a heavy cloud of gloom trying to descend upon him, and he tried to push the feeling away. Even so, he couldn't help but wonder when he'd be allowed to be as close to her as he tried to allow her to be to him.

He realized he was still standing outside the shoppe when Daphne poked her head outside the door, frowned at him, and asked if he was coming or not.

"Of course," he replied, stepping into the small building. There were shelves and shelves of candies, prank toys, ready made baskets, and other assortments of odd, potentially dangerous, and colourful items. Michael and Daphne hung back, watching Matthew run around looking at everything. Neither had much experience with kids, and Matthew seemed to be a fairly responsible one, so they figured they probably didn't need to try and control him.

"You break it, you buy it," came a set of familiar voices from just behind. Michael turned to see a door he'd missed before. It seemed to be leading to some stairs stretching up into who knows what. Probably their living quarters or extra storage space or a laboratory or something. They glanced from the child to Daphne to Michael, and then a flicker of recognition came into those twin sets of eyes.

"We haven't seen any one from the D.A. since this morning," said the first Weasley Twin.

"We thought you'd all forgotten us by now," added the other.

Now Michael was not overly familiar with Ginny's older brothers, but he wasn't wholly surprised they remembered him. He had been their little sister's first boyfriend and one of the founding members of the Defense Association with them. Still, he was a bit wary of them. One could never be overly certain when they were on the Weasley Twins' good side. Not to mention that he couldn't even begin to tell them apart.

"Corner, aren't you too young to have a kid?" asked the one on the right.

"Good thing Ginny did break up with him, eh, Fred?"

Michael grinned nervously. "Er, well, he's not mine..."

Daphne seemed to be more on top of things at the moment, suddenly asking, "Wait, did you just say you haven't seen a D.A. member since this morning?"

The one Michael figured was called George smiled at her. "Nice to see you've crawled out from under your rock then--"

"Daphne."

"He's yours then?" George asked.

"No. Who was here this morning?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Right to the point, this one, isn't she?"

"Oh, yes," replied George. "Anyhow. Seems you Ravenclaws are making a habit out of hanging around with Slytherins lately."

Michael was about to ask again who the twins had seen this morning when Matthew piped up from across the shop, "I want to be a Slytherin!"

"No you don't, mate," Fred called back. "Nasty lot, they are, isn't that right?"

A year ago, Daphne might have taken some sort of great offense to that but this time around, she just crossed her arms, rolled her eyes, smiled, and asked, "Are you finished insulting me yet?"

"I think this one seems all right, Fred. think we should tell 'er who was here?"

"I think that might be the nice thing to do, George."

"Okay, then. Luna Lovegood and Pansy Parkinson were 'round here today," said Fred.

"They were dragging Anthony Goldstein along with 'em. Seemed to be--"

"Anthony was here?" Michael asked.

"A bit deaf, are you, mate?" George replied.

Daphne elbowed him. Apparently she wanted to hear about Pansy, too, and it seemed that wasn't going to happen expediently unless he shut up. So, he did.

"Good choice," Fred (a.k.a. the other one) remarked, smirking at his twin.

"Right then. So they all came around wanting us to relay a message and give an item to Lupin from Harry."

"A message?" Michael queried.

"Can't tell," George said, glancing at his twin. "Top secret, of course."

"But then... they looked fine, right?" Daphne asked.

"Never better," Fred said with a shrug. "Why?"

Daphne and Michael exchanged a glance and then started to tell the Twins what they knew. Perhaps what they knew could help someone, since the Twins seemed to be acting as go betweens now. It took at least ten minutes to tell it all, and neither Fred nor George interrupted at any point, instead just sharing a dark glance here and there.

"Well, I imagine since you told us so much it wouldn't hurt to give you one clue..." George drawled.

"But you didn't hear it from us," Fred added.

"The object we're delivering is a communication device. As far as we know, Harry's given them to a few people who are with him, and now he wants to give one to Lupin."

"So if you go find Lupin, you'll be fine."

"Well, that should be easy. That's where Terry, Granger, Finnigan and Mackenzie are," Michael said, rubbing his chin.

"Wrong again, mate. They're somewhere unplottable, but..."

George wrote something down on a piece of paper. "Read this. Memorise it. Never tell another soul or..." He glanced at Fred, and Michael felt goosebumps rising along his arms. "...We'll come find you ourselves."

Michael took the parchment and skimmed over it: 12 Grimmauld Place. He handed it to Daphne who also looked at it for a long moment, committing it to memory before she handed it back to George.

"Incendio."

"So if we go there..." Michael began.

"You'll find your answers, but... You better be prepared to become fully involved. Can't have anyone going about half-arsed in this. You're either in or you're not. If not..."

"...We recommend hiding out in Madrid. 'Heard it's lovely this time of the year."

Michael nodded solemnly. It made sense. If they found out the answers, then they were giving themselves over 100. That was a big decision... And he wasn't sure he could make it on the spot. Just as he was contemplating whether he did want to make that decision, there was a loud bang behind them.

And not only was it a bang, but a squeak, a thud, and whatever other noises one could possibly use to describe what would otherwise be classified as a disaster.

Matthew sat on the floor looking just a bit too stunned to be teary-eyed, and Daphne hurried over to him. Her legs gave out when she was just about there, and she skidded the rest of the way on her knees - which looked painful, but it seemed to work well enough. She reached the little werewolf just before he started crying, and he practically fell into her arms.

"Faulty shelves," Fred grumbled. "Though I don't suppose they're really meant to be climbed on."

"I'm more concerned with the fact that about our whole stock in that corner spontaneously activated. Bit strange, don't you think?" George asked.

"Good thing we keep the fireworks upstairs," Fred replied.

Daphne returned, favouring her right leg quite heavily while trying to hold onto Matthew, who was bawling. About every time he took a breath, something else in the store would squeal, bang, or become a lot more annoying. Daphne, while trying to comfort the child, looked at Michael and arched her eyebrows.

"We wouldn't be adverse to you calming him down a bit," Fred said. Already, though, the spontaneous activation of some of odd items in the shop was slowing.

"It's all right. You just fell a little," Daphne muttered to him, as she checked him over for any new bruises. Michael helped, though it was a bit hard to tell where the bruises from last night stopped and where any new ones might have appeared.

"He a bit accident prone?" George asked.

"No," Daphne replied. "Well, Yes. You know that werewolf village we mentioned? He's one of them. We promised him a day out... That's a bit of a story." She paused. "We also thought he was a Muggle."

"Well, it seems the two of you have produced a beautiful baby wizard," George said, not even attempting to squelch his smirk. Michael glared at him, knowing that Daphne wouldn't take kindly to the insinuation, but she presently seemed to be too preoccupied with Matthew to notice. The Twins glanced at Michael's expression and then turned to one another with a look of terrible amusement, wide grins threatening to rip their cheek muscles. However, they decided not to further tease Michael, instead looking around the room...and not smiling so much anymore.

"Like we said, you break it, you bought it," Fred said cheekily.

Michael turned to look at the mess as well and groaned. Knowing the Twins they were going to hold himself and Daphne to that. "Can you set us up a tab?" he asked, grinning hopefully.

"For a fellow D.A. member, maybe."

Well, he might as well have tried. He turned back to Matthew and Daphne. She was actually looking rather maternal right now despite her earlier annoyance with the boy and avoidance of his semi-joking comment about having children. She was hugging Matthew who had finally stopped crying, now hiccupping instead.

"'Wanna canary cream," he said between sniffles.

"I think I might have enough for that," Michael said, feeling around in his not too full pockets. He managed to find a galleon and handed it to Fred and George. If he'd expected change, he was sorely mistaken. Fred eyed the coin between his fingers and nodded.

"Well, we'll start with this. I'd say you now only owe us about 499 galleons."

George clasped Michael on the shoulder. "We look forward to doing further business with you. Now please take your accident prone kid and try not to loose him when he eats that canary cream."

The three--Michael, Daphne, and the still sniffling Matthew who was clutching his treat in one fist--were ushered back out onto the street.

"I never did like them that much," Daphne commented offhandedly as she set Matthew down to check him over again.

"They aren't that bad," Michael mumbled, though he wasn't so sure he agreed with that anymore. "A bit infuriating at times, but not all bad. They didn't seem too concerned about their brother, though. They didn't even mention him."

"They never were terribly conventional," Daphne said. She picked up the boy just as he stuffed the Canary Cream in his mouth, holding him under one arm almost as she'd hold a book. A moment later when he became a rather large, twittering canary... Well, it didn't seem to phase her in the least. In fact, she continued talking through all this as the young werewolf got free and climbed up onto her shoulders. "Anyway, back to the information they did give us."

"An address..." Michael noted, eying Matthew who was attempting to fly away. Daphne was calmly holding onto his leg. At least the little werewolf no longer seemed upset about the incident in the shop.

Daphne looked up at him as he stopped trying to get away. "He's a wizard, you know," she mused, actually sounding rather incredulous at that. ...And completely changing the subject.

The canary twittered again, sat down heavily on Daphne's shoulders, and shed all his feathers. Suddenly he was a boy again, and obviously a bit heavier, because just after the Slytherin's eyes widened in surprise, she fell to her knees.

Michael chuckled.

"I wanna be a Slytherin!" Matthew announced.

It was funny, except the fact that Daphne's legs were still in bad shape, and so while amused, he was also immediately worried. Thus Michael quickly relieved her of the young boy sitting atop her. Matthew immediately began to try and crawl up Michael.

"Let's do horsy rides now!" the excited boy said, nearly knocking Michael down. He got a small fist to the ear, but somehow managed to not drop Matthew, though his eyes did water painfully. Matthew had by that time maneuvered himself onto Michael's back and was apparently trying to strangle him again.

He winced down at Daphne and asked in a rather choked voice, "You okay, Daph?"

She looked up at his expression and smirked, shakily pulling herself to her feet. "Fine, yes." She dusted off her robes. "I think lunch is in order, and then Matthew should probably go home." Before he kills one of us, was her silent addition.

"Hey, Matthew. Ever been to a restaurant before?" Michael asked. The little boy shook his head vigorously, and Michael was sure his windpipe was going to be crushed.

"Well, we're going to take you to one," Daphne said, feeling around in her pockets. Michael did the same. Both were, of course, hoping they could actually afford to take the boy out to eat.

Between them, they imagined they had enough, deciding that, if necessary, they'd sit out the meal. Mostly because Matthew was talking about trying everything because he'd never been a real wizard before. At least he was having fun, and even chatted at length with their waiter at the Leaky Cauldron - a place which he found absolutely fascinating. There wasn't much which the child didn't like, really, excepting the little accident at Fred and George's shop.

Michael watched Daphne with Matthew again there, and decided that she wasn't exactly affectionate, but she was patient. Even when the kid was bouncing up and down on his seat, she managed to get him to eat at least some of the stew and crackers he'd wanted. It was strange to see her so rational and calm when he'd always known her to be much like the typical Slytherin in temperament at times. Especially because she was dealing with a Muggle - or rather, a Muggle-born wizard, as it turned out - as well as a non-human.

Was that it? Did she think of him as some sort of animal? Or was she actually learning to care?

"Do I have to go home?" he asked. That drew Michael away from his thinking.

"You don't want to?" Daphne asked.

"Missed the full moon," Matthew said, almost sadly. "I wonder what they did."

"You remember?" Michael asked. "I mean, when you change back, you--"

Matthew was looking at him blankly, so Daphne interrupted. "When they're not crazed, they actually have a pretty good recollection of things. If they're with others like them, you know? It lets them hold onto more of themselves. That's another reason why they're all probably in one village. But last night... He probably wouldn't remember that too much."

"I remember!" Matthew exclaimed proudly. "They put a thing on my face and I got it off--" Cutting off suddenly, he looked at Michael. "Oh. Oh, that wasn't good, was it?"

Michael laughed uneasily, pointedly ignoring the furrowed brow and frown Daphne was directing at him. "No, no, it turned out just fine," he said, waving his hand lazily. "I'm not awful at moving quickly when need's be," he added, noting that neither Michael nor Daphne looked convinced. "Matthew, don't you want dessert? The carrot cake here is smashing."

"Can I?" Matthew asked, eyes and grin widening simultaneously.

"Of course, of course," Michael said, waving a waiter over. It momentarily struck him as funny that Daphne would be willing to return to this institution of all places considering it practically fell on her head a summer ago. Still, it was the only restaurant of note in Diagon Alley... His thoughts were broken as he realised that the carrot cake had arrived, and Matthew was trying to force a mouthful on Daphne. She eyed it suspiciously for a moment, looked at the rather adorable face begging her to open up, and sighed, submitting herself to his ministrations.

Next thing he knew, the fork with a big piece of cake was pressed in his own direction. Michael really wasn't a fan of eating after others, but... the mouth that had just run over that metal was Daphne's... Somehow thinking that gave him a funny little thrill, and so he leaned forward and took the proffered pastry.

"Thank you," he replied after a moment, wiping his mouth with a free napkin.

The waiter walked by and dropped off the receipt, and Michael and Daphne dug around in their pockets, nearly emptying them completely, to pay it. As far as money went, Daphne and Michael were from comfortable backgrounds, but given that both of their families were not the sort to leap to arms, they'd gone into hiding. Michael couldn't even say where his parents and older sister were presently. He figured that was best, given that though his mother was a Pure-blood, his father was a Muggle, and sister a Half-blood like himself.

Even if it made things--emotional and physical--a little difficult, it nonetheless was a necessary measure, and Michael understood that much.

"Ready to go, Matthew?" Daphne asked. The little boy licked his fork one more time and then nodded.

"I bet your Mum's missed you."

"I wonder if Dad's back yet!" The little boy exclaimed excitedly. "I can tell mum really misses him, too, but he hasn't been home in a while."

Michael looked at Daphne, wondering if she might have an explanation about that, but Daphne just shrugged at him and nodded; she'd tell him later.

They went back to St. Mungo's first, of course, because they had promised Matthew he could meet McGonagall and Clare, plus, they had to pick up the little boy's things. As Daphne hadn't officially been discharged from the hospital yet - the trip to Diagon Alley was a trial of sorts to make sure she could walk - Clare and Professor McGonagall were still in her room talking, using it as an office of sorts.

"We wondered when you'd get back," Clare said as they arrived. She eyed the boy warily...

Matthew tugged on Daphne's robe, and she leaned down a bit so he could whisper to her... Michael just heard it as he asked, pointing at Clare, "Is that the plant lady?"

Daphne's grin was evil. But it was the good kind of evil, if one could call it that. "Yes. It is," she replied.

Clare glared heartily at her friend, but after a moment, she turned to Matthew with a slightly kinder look and replied, "My name is Clare."

"Pleased to meet you, Clare the Plant Lady."

Daphne giggled, and Michael couldn't help but smirk a little.

"We have something important to discuss, but first we have to take him home," Michael informed McGonagall who peered at him sharply from behind her spectacles. She nodded, as though beckoning them to be quick about it.

"Will Clare come with us to take me home?" Matthew asked, tugging on Michael's pant leg.

"Uh..."

"Sure," Clare said, and though she didn't sound especially nice about it, the action itself was rather telling.

"The portkey is by the bed," McGonagall informed them with a nod.

"Are you the cat lady?" Matthew asked, peering up at the elderly witch. McGonagall looked taken aback for a moment, but she gave him a curt nod. "Come play with me again when you're a cat, okay?" The Transfiguration professor nearly turned red at that, but she managed something along the lines of a vague promise to do so. Somehow, she couldn't help but look a little charmed by the little werewolf.

"Are you ready, Matthew?" Daphne asked, picking up the portkey and offering it to Michael, Clare, and Matthew.

Michael was starting not to mind the almost painful, uncomfortable feeling of being dragged through space by a portkey. As they all touched it, Michael noted that Clare gave him a vague sort of glare, and he wondered for a moment why she was even coming. She was the first to speak when they arrived in the Town Hall building where the Hogwarts refugees spent the night when they'd stayed over in the village.

"Thanks. I needed to get away from there for a while," Clare said. She glanced at the floor for a moment before looking around for the exit. Daphne followed her, still toting around the book so they could give it back to Emma.

Maybe it was McGonagall, Michael wondered. Surely the professor hadn't talked the girl's ears off.

They got their answer when they stepped outside, and Clare just stopped, standing there with her eyes closed, facing the setting sun. It was strange... Michael hadn't ever seen her so peaceful-looking. Even with Matthew tugging on her arm at various intervals and asking her questions ("What was it like to be a plant?" to which her answer was, "Very boring...").

Daphne and Michael just let her stand there for a while, though, until she turned to them and said, "Okay. I'm ready." Even if they asked, she probably wouldn't have explained herself. Daphne, however, would tell Michael later that night that Clare really had thought she was going to be trapped as a plant for a while. Allowing anyone to see her so happy as she was... It was sort of like a thank you to them both. Not that she'd ever admit that.

Michael didn't think it was a very good thank you.

The highlight of that evening was meeting up with Emma, who was quite happy to hear that her son was a wizard. Not so thrilled when he told his mother his house of preference, but considering she was in the presence of two Slytherins that didn't seem so bad, she didn't say anything... Except that it was nice to get to meet the other person that Matthew got to help.

The little werewolf was very proud of himself.

And what was even better in Michael's opinion was that Emma promised to write to Fred and George on Michael's behalf. Not that it would save him from having to pay four-hundred and ninety-nine more Galleons, but it might help, at least a little. They wouldn't know until later, and it was time to get back to St. Mungo's to tell McGonagall what they knew.