The wind that ruffled Evan's hair was warm and sleepy, matching the comfortable feel of the little town it was passing through. Evan stifled a yawn and turned his footsteps towards home. Lights were flicking on in the windows of small homes and flicking off as businesses closed. His mother always worried something awful if he wasn't home before true dark, and he hated when she worried because it made his father all anxious as well.
"Don't worry; I'm home!" he called as soon as he slipped through the front door.
"Evan!" his mother exclaimed, appearing in the kitchen doorway, flour dusting her nose. "It's nearly dark, dearest."
"Only nearly, Mum. Don't worry so. Is Da home from work yet?" Evan asked as he unlaced his shoes and kicked them into the corner.
"No. And even if he was, he wouldn't have time to spend with you, love. This is a very tense time at the Ministry."
"Yeah, I know," Evan said dully. "Bloody stupid time to decide to be Minister of Magic."
"Evan!" his mother declared, her eyes narrowing as she brought up her wand. Realizing what was coming, Evan ducked, but he wasn't quick enough to prevent getting a mouthful of soapy suds. "You watch your language, young man, and don't disparage your father's work! It's very important."
Making a face, Evan spat out the last of the soap suds and started upstairs. He knew how touchy of a subject it was, bringing up his father's poor timing in his Ministerial bid. It was true, though! He had been doing just fine working as a wandmaker, starting to build up a reputation of his own, and then just up and decided to become Minister of Magic. Oddly enough, his father had had little trouble gaining the post, which seemed odd for a lowly wandmaker from Hogsmeade.
"Evan, by the way, you got your letter today," his mother called upstairs, and Evan's mind was immediately torn from the oddities of his father's career.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME STRAIGHT OFF?" he demanded, jumping the stairs three at a time to arrive back in the hallway, panting slightly. "WHERE IS IT?"
"You're not getting it until you do something about your hair," his mother replied lightly.
Sighing resignedly, Evan tried to flatten his unruly mop of red curls, but they sprang back into untidiness almost immediately. His mother, he noticed, was smiling slightly at his attempts; she obviously wasn't expecting him to succeed. He also noticed she was clutching a thick letter in her hand, and he snatched it from her with a growl.
"Did Nev get one too?" he asked, his eyes lighting up when he didn't see another letter in sight. Perhaps his twin sister was a Squib! Then she would be shipped off to a Muggle school and Evan would have his run of Hogwarts without the pesky girl at all.
"Of course she got one," his mother replied as Evan ripped his letter open. "Oh, your father's home."
"Hello, dearest." Evan's father entered the hallway from the sitting room that he used as his Apparition point. "How was everything today?"
To Evan's surprise, his mother burst into tears and buried her head on her husband's shoulder. His father stroked her bushy brown hair softly, murmuring something to her. Evan retreated back upstairs, pulling his Hogwarts letter out of its envelope.
"Is Da home?"
Evan looked up to see Nev in his doorway just as he was flopping down onto his bed. Her long hair was more blonde than red, but she'd definitely gotten her share of the family freckles.
"Yeah, and Mum just 'bout went mad," Evan muttered. "Dunno what's up with that."
"She got a Howler today," Nev announced matter-of-factly. "I only heard the first bit; I think she did something to stop me from hearing the rest. But it didn't even make sense; something about someone Potter or whatnot. Bet it's about the Shadow Years."
"You're probably right," Evan said with a sigh. The Shadow Years had ended fourteen years ago, and of course no one ever would speak about them to young children. His mother and father evaded all questions about what they had been doing during the Shadow Years, although he'd figured out from years and ages that the War on Evil had ended the summer after their seventh year at Hogwarts, so neither of them was probably very involved.
"Did you get your letter?" Nev asked, lifting her hand to show her own. "I was quite excited. I really hope I'm in Hufflepuff."
"What?" Evan exclaimed. "You actually want to be in Hufflepuff? How many times have you heard people talk about them as fluffheads?"
"Exactly. It can't be a deserved reputation. Do you really think a quarter of all British wizarding children are dunderheads? No, my theory is that they don't let non-Hufflepuffs in on anything cool. So I want to be one."
"You're nutters. I want to be in Gryffindor like Mum and Da."
Nev eyed him and Evan shifted uncomfortably. Her vivid green eyes always seemed to be boring straight into him when she did that. He sidled away, scratching his long nose and trying to think of something else to say. Luckily, he was saved from his sister's odd stare by a shriek from his mother.
"RONALD! HOW DARE YOU!"
"Hush, now, love..." the rest of his father's words trailed off into a low murmur.
"What's that all about?" Nev asked curiously, hopping to her feet. "I wonder if it has anything to do with the Howler."
"Probably just more things at the Ministry that Da isn't doing right," Evan said. "Where are you going?"
"To listen, of course. What do you think?" Nev shook her head as if wondering at her brother's stupidity and then slipped away.
"I swear she's not even related to me," Evan muttered, getting to his feet and following her. "She's pure nutters."
"What if they come here, Ron?" his mother was saying as he joined Nev on the stairs. "What if they do something to the children?"
"Don't be silly. Evan will be perfectly safe, and Nev, well..." his father sighed heavily, "I don't know. I just don't know."
"Why didn't you just lie or something?"
"Hermione! You ought to be ashamed. I'm the Minister of Magic, I can't go around lying just because I don't want the truth about my school years to come out. And your school years, too; this is as much your fault as mine."
"No it isn't!" hissed his mother. "I have the good sense not to tell anyone about it!"
"That's because no one ever asks you. If I was just running a shop in Hogsmeade, no one would bother me about it either."
"Oh, goodness, supper's going to burn. Just know this, Ronald--if anything happens to Nev, not only will he have your head, I will have it too. Call the children, please."
Evan looked over at Nev, and her mouth was hanging open. Her bright green eyes were wide with fright and puzzlement. She shook her head when she saw him looking and gave him a tight smile. Obviously, she didn't know any more about that cryptic conversation than he did.
