Harriet lounged on an armchair that seemed to swallow her whole, picking at the remnants of a pastry as she gazed out of the floor-to-ceiling window that looked down on the street below. Ada Wood's apartment on the clocktower was situated on the seventh floor, and in this strange, leaning building, that meant her room was located directly over the street. Harriet was amazed the whole structure didn't tip over, but she supposed anything was possible with magic.

She gazed down the spottily-lit street, following it with her eyes until it ended at the massive cathedral-bank. Ada had given her a short explanation about the place earlier.

"That's Gringotts, the wizarding bank. We keep our money there so the goblins can watch over it for us."

"Goblins?"

"Yes, that's right. They're like dwarves but green. Er, muggles have dwarves, right?"

Harriet expected to see more people like the witches and wizards she'd encountered at the Ministry here in Diagon, but to her surprise, it seemed like half of the figures walking down Vertiq Alley weren't exactly… human. She saw a woman with the lower body of a snake, another huge, lumbering figure that must have been a giant of some sort, and even a group of short, hairy boys with hooves for feet.

At first, she was too frightened to gawk openly at the strange people, but Ada assured her that the window was enchanted to only look out, and nobody could see inside. Since then, she'd been distracting herself with the zoo-like exhibit while Ada worked in her office. She tried not to think about death, Dudley, or the Dursleys, but it was debatable whether she succeeded on any of those counts.

Despite Ada's hints that a magical adoption was in the works, she expected things wouldn't change once this Obscurus business was wrapped up—she'd be sent packing to Little Whinging with a wave and a pat on the back. Maybe they'd let her keep a souvenir: a small reminder of her stint in the magical world. She might get a deck of self-shuffling cards, or a wooden owl like the one Ada occasionally whispered to.

And then she'd show up on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive, and Uncle Vernon would kill her.

A pair of picture frames on a nearby dresser kept her company as she tried to avoid thinking about the future. A boy and girl several years younger than her looked out, smiling and waving. They resembled Ada.

'They're probably her relatives. Is she old enough to have kids?'

The pair of children shared her straight brown hair and slender jawline. The girl's nose and mouth were practically copies of the older woman's, though her eyes were notably different. She didn't share Ada's sable, almond-shaped orbs, but instead had softer, downturned eyes. It made her appear tired. In that regard, the unnamed girl more closely resembled Harriet, who'd been criticized often enough by teachers for looking sleepy.

'I wonder if she also gets yelled at for that. I can't imagine Miss Wood yelling at anyone, though.'

The pair of moving pictures had unnerved her when she first entered the flat, but she quickly grew used to them, and even found herself glancing over at them whenever she wasn't looking out the window. The two children didn't seem aware of her, but they reminded Harriet of herself—and not in appearance. Though they smiled, something about them seemed forlorn. They had a weariness about them that suggested they were older than their years.

A light, metallic tinkling sound caught her attention, and she turned. Next to the dresser, a great grandfather clock dominated, its presence a monument to time. Within the glass case on its body, a second wall-mounted clock had been adhered to the grandfather clock's wooden interior. And at the center of that wall-mounted clock was a third clock—a wristwatch that had been dissected until only the clock face remained. It was this wristwatch making the noise.

The faint chiming was soon joined by the wall-mounted clock, which started to ring, a fair bit louder than the first. Then, the grandfather clock joined in with deep gongs of its own. Just as Harriet began to wonder how long the racket would go on, a deafening sound made her jump nearly a foot in the air.

DONG. DONG. DONG.

The ceiling shuddered as what must have been the largest bell Harriet had ever heard started going off above them.

'Right,' she thought, placing a hand over her thrumming heart. 'Right. We're in a ruddy great clocktower.'

To calm down, Harriet counted the tolls. There were twelve. Footsteps sounded out, and Ada entered the room, rubbing her forehead with ink-stained fingers. She saw Harriet sitting by the window and did a double-take.

"You're still awake? Merlin, you must be exhausted—I thought you'd have gone to bed by now. I've shown you your room, haven't I?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize. But you do need your rest. You have a big day tomorrow. C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Harriet tipped out of the chair, padding to the guest room behind her host.

"Miss Wood—" she began.

"Ada, please, Harriet."

"Um, Miss A-Ada?"

She gave a theatrical sigh. "Good enough, I s'pose. What is it?"

"Why do you have so many clocks… y'know…" she gestured at the grandfather clock in lieu of an explanation.

The detective stalled with her hand on the doorknob. In the dim light, Harriet must have mistaken the blush on her face. "Well, it's a bit silly, really."

"Silly?"

"It was a gift—well, a prank from my trainee in the auror office. He called it my…" she coughed, " My clock in a clock in a clock in a clock."

Harriet blinked.

"Since I live in a clocktower," elaborated Ada. "He just thought it would be funny to stick a load of clocks inside the biggest one of all. I can't take them out without breaking the whole thing. Like I said—it's silly."

Harriet agreed. It was a bit silly.

"How often does the big one go off?" she asked. "It was really loud."

"Oh, the tower? Four times a day, whenever the hour reaches twelve or six. Does it bother you? I've gotten quite used to it, but I can muffle your bedroom if you don't want to be woken up."

"No, that's all right," she lied, not wanting to trouble the Auror.

"Alright then. I'll see you in the morning. You can't go unsupervised, so I'll be bringing you back to the Ministry with me. We'll talk more tomorrow."

Ada departed for her own bedroom down the hall.

After brushing her teeth, Harriet walked up to the colossal bed. Gulping, she put a hand on it. Then another. She hoisted herself up and let herself sink face-down into the sheets. She'd never dared attempt this with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's bed, but now she almost wished she'd given it a go if this was what she was missing out on.

Drowning pleasantly in a pillowy ocean, it didn't take the girl long to fall asleep.

And the nightmare didn't take long to begin.

Disjointed imaged of torn up earth and brutalized corpses flashed before her. Intestines draped off branches. A pair of discarded shoes sat nearby, filled with blood. Piles of red and brown settled amongst the dead leaves, the stench of death coiling around her like a heavy chain.

But that wasn't what woke her.

An impossibly loud howl exploded from somewhere nearby, the sound piercing to her core. The howl was one of fury—of unfiltered, animalistic hate and fear.

She awoke in her luxurious new bed with screams choking off in her throat. It took the girl several long, heart-thudding minutes to realize that it hadn't been some lion or monster hunting her in her dreams.

The howl had come from her own mouth.

The next day

Ada and Harriet made their way down the bustling streets of London. The detective hadn't commented on the dark bags under her ward's eyes, for which Harriet was glad. The woman could be so thoughtful sometimes that it frequently had the inverse effect of making the girl uncomfortable.

"The trial for your aunt and uncle is today," said Ada once they were both seated on the muggle bus.

Harriet blinked. 'Trial? For… Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon?'

"I thought you should be informed," she continued. "Honestly, the hearing is happening far sooner than I expected. Normally these things take weeks and weeks to get brought before a court… but it seems that someone is pushing it along. Your name busy at work behind the scenes, no doubt."

"But what are they on trial for?" she asked, ignoring the reminder of her fame.

Ada turned to look her straight in the eye. "For abusing a child, Harriet. That's you. And to such an extent that you formed an Obscurus, no less. They're in custody at the Ministry, and I expect things will not go well for them."

She said it all so matter-of-factly that it took Harriet a moment to catch up. She'd had no idea the Dursleys were in any sort of trouble. And with the magical government, of all things? She couldn't picture it. She couldn't imagine Vernon Dursley even talking to a witch or wizard, let alone letting himself be put on trial by them. Those worlds didn't collide.

"What's going to happen to them?"

"That depends on what the interrogators found. Your aunt and uncle were given a truth potion and questioned yesterday. If they are found guilty, they will at the very least serve prison time."

Prison. It boggled her mind. She didn't know what to think, how to feel—everything had flipped around so fast that the girl was left floundering.

"I will probably be called upon as a witness," said Ada. "Normally, you would need to be present for the trial, but thanks to your… unique circumstances, that won't be the case here. Nevertheless, as a concerned party, you have the right to attend should you choose. It will be done anonymously, so you won't need to worry about being singled out."

Harriet stared blankly at her.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," she said gently. "I understand if it's difficult. Besides, Healer Thornton will need to run some tests on you today."

The Dursleys had just lost their son. Last night, when she was too afraid to sleep, she'd pictured them in her mind's eye. They were at a funeral in somber, dark attire. Aunt Petunia was sobbing over the coffin, while Uncle Vernon was drinking with Aunt Marge. He down his liquor glass and went on a drunken tirade, swearing to find Harriet and flay her alive.

She thought she'd be back in Privet Drive in a week. She'd spent the night up in bed, thinking about it. She was too afraid to sleep, afraid of what the future held, afraid the Dursleys would seek retribution on her…

And she just learned her relatives were in custody, waiting to undergo a criminal trial. It couldn't be true.

She needed to see it.

"I want to go," she said.

Ada inspected her a moment, then nodded. "Alright."

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Headquarters of the Army Corps."

The detective guided Harriet down a long hallway past multiple large complexes until they reached the arch labeled "Auror Headquarters." Immediately past it was a large foyer with a stately wizard standing in the center, surrounded by a circular desk that looked like more of a defensive installation than a workspace. The wizard glanced Ada over once and nodded them through.

The foyer split into three smaller halls, and Ada took the one on the right, guiding Harriet to what must have been her office. It was actually two offices smushed in one: a smaller space at the front and a larger one at the rear. Potted plants filled the front office, scattered amongst the few pieces of furniture, including chairs and a table.

Waiting for them at the front was a short, wiry wizard with curly brown hair and a big smile. He was identifiably younger than Ada, but at least twice as old as Harriet. He might've been in his late teens or early twenties.

"Ada!" he greeted her. "And my my—if it isn't the Girl-Who-Lived in the flesh! A pleasure, Miss Potter. A pleasure indeed!"

He came up to her and started to vigorously shake Harriet's hand, the girl's whole body jarring with the motion. She escaped as quickly as she could manage, thankful at least that he didn't insist on shaking the hand with the broken wrist.

Ada cleared her throat. "Harriet, this is Micah, my trainee. I, er, mentioned him to you earlier."

"Oho? Did you?" he crowed, puffing up his chest. "Only kind things, I hope!"

Harriet asked, "He's the one who got you the… clock?"

"In a clock in a clock in a clock?" Micah prodded.

"That's the one," Ada confirmed with a sigh.

He beamed. "Just wait 'till you see what I've got planned for next year!"

"Spare me, I beg you," muttered Ada before addressing Harriet and then her partner in turn. "Stay with Micah. He'll take you to the trial when it starts. And you," she said, turning on Micah. "I thought you got confirmation from the captain last night—he's supposed to be here! I can't leave her unattended with a trainee."

"He is here!" replied Micah, inclining his head towards a corner of the room.

Harriet turned to look, but didn't see anything other than a chair and a few potted plants. Then, a grizzled homeless man carrying a club stepped out of thin air without a sound.

"Eep!" she squeaked, darting behind Ada.

"Captain! What were you doing hiding in that corner?" scolded Ada, putting a steadying hand on Harriet's back. "You could have given her a heart attack!"

The man stumped forward, leaning on his club—no, his walking stick. His shabby brown cloak swished back and forth, and he glared at Harriet and the Auror—at the same time, no less. His left eye was rather dark and beady, but his right eye was electric blue and it whirred around completely independently of his left, picking apart every piece of the room. He had scars all over his face, and a chunk of his nose was missing—probably bitten off by a rabid dog when he got into a fight with it over a piece of steak.

"Scoping out the little devilspawn is what I was doing, lass," he replied, voice as gruff as his appearance. "What were you doing? Offering her your liver?! You're as listless as a Lovegood! You're so oblivious I could have hexed you four times before you got that wand out of your p—"

Ada shot a bolt of red light at the man, moving so fast that Harriet thought her hand must have teleported. The spell moved at a speed that made it appear a single straight beam of light to Harriet's eyes, but without missing a step, the captain jerked his head to the side. It blasted a hole in the wall behind him.

"Not bad," he growled, praising the clearly fatal spell as fragments of plaster and rubble rained down on the floor. "Quick. Decisive. But you'll need another ten years before you get one up on me."

'What the—?' Harriet started, glancing up at Ada to reveal her guardian struggling against a set of heavy yellow chains that had sprung out of thin air, wand uselessly at her side. 'When did that happen?'

Ada was apparently wondering the same thing. "You old—how did you—? That wasn't wandless magic! You didn't cast a spell!"

"A delayed spell on a trigger condition, you thick-skulled piece of thestral bait," he replied, dispelling the chains with a tap of his walking stick. "You've got the magic, girl, but you don't use your head. I was here over half an hour before you arrived—of course I set a trap!"

Ada turned on Micah. "And why didn't you say anything?!"

The small wizard shrugged. "Captain Moody threatened me with a week of the prison shift."

"And that—" said the insane captain, peering down at Ada, even as his blue eye whizzed around violently, "—is proof that complacency leads to a sticky end! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Harriet jumped a foot into the air when he bellowed his final line, and Ada groaned. Squeezing her shoulder, she turned to Moody.

"Could you not shout at the poor girl?"

"So long as she doesn't shout at me."

That was evidently as good as she was going to get.

"Right," she said. "Harriet, meet Captain Alastor Moody. Captain Moody, meet Harriet. Listen, I'm off. You two try not to overwhelm my charge, yeah?"

"We'll whelm her normally," assured Micah with a grin. Moody just snorted.

Before leaving, Ada bent over and whispered in her ear. "Harriet, you're in good hands." She paused, glancing at the Auror Captain. "Well, you're in hands. Sorry about the rush. I'll see you after the trial, yeah?"

Harriet watched her guardian go before glancing up nervously at the two wizards.

Micah was at work repairing the busted wall. He waved his wand around and the rubble floated back into place before her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to appreciate the magic, however, as the other wizard in the room was currently glaring at her. Harriet had to fight to keep her head up, forcing herself not to look down at her feet and instead meet his gaze.

She just prayed lasers wouldn't shoot out of that eye.

The contest lasted until Micah finished with the wall. Moody lifted a wrist, diverting the laser-eye to check his watch.

"Seems we've got time to kill," he said, then limped across the room and sat down heavily on the chair facing the door, propping his walking stick on his shoulder. He pulled a deck of cards out from somewhere within his cloak. "You know poker?"

Notes

I wasn't expecting Moody when I started this chapter. But then Moody happened. I assume it was his decision entirely and had nothing to do with me.