This is partly some of our characters having varying degrees of a good time and partly some perspective on other people's experiences while Harry and Ron were busy flying a car to school, sure that there would be no consequences to this choice whatsoever...

Ft. Morgana's reoccuring nightmares, Lancelot vs children raised by Merlin, and Amelia and her increasing and continuing headaches of all sorts.

Trigger Warning: I'm not sure what kind of trigger warning I should include for the first section (the bit in italics) because while the dream is intentionally creepy I don't think there's anything specific that I can point to and say "hey if this is triggering for you skip this section". So I'm going to warn for general creepiness and dream logic and the same kind of vibes as Morgana's dreams in canon and if you think it might be triggering then please be careful or skip entirely. It's only plot relevant insofar as foreshadowing and the fact that Morgana gets a heads up that she may or may not understand are concerned.
I'm also warning for references to and discussion of canonical child abuse in the second and third sections, both of which take place in "Amelia Bones' Office", along with mild references to canonical and canon typical Death Eater activities. I'll include a summary of the plot relevant points mentioned in the two sections if you want to skip them (if you do skip to "29th August 12:28 – Cardiff Central Station, Cardiff")

20th August

It was the same nightmare again. Niamh backing away from the emerald snake stalking her, almost running in her haste, but never quick enough to escape. The serpent slithering its way up her body and tightening its coils until she was suffocating under the pressure. The snake's head coming to rest possessively on her shoulder as the last coil tightened around her neck, killing her. Niamh choked out the words that weren't quite "help me" and the snake let her go, staring directly at Morgana with its poisonous yellow eyes screaming death, leaving Niamh frozen in place behind it.

And then the dream changed. Morgana started falling as the snake dissolved, but this time Niamh dissolved too. Morgana landed in the ink with a loud splash but this time she didn't see Merlin anywhere.

Instead, as she frantically looked around for a way out of the liquid, a shadowed figure clad all in black sank without a sound beneath the waves of ink turned saltwater and the strange liquid that Morgana couldn't move in properly.

She tried to swim towards the stranger, hoping that she might get answers this time, but she was bogged down by the robes that didn't belong to her. Robes that were the same colour as the stranger's. Blood started spreading from where the stranger had vanished, and Morgana tried to swim faster in her urgency. Just as she was starting to make progress, between one breath and the next, the water became piles of wet paper and ink-soaked parchment, trapping her as she struggled to wade closer. The paper and parchment tore at her, a thousand tiny cuts, bleeding blood into the air in a thin crimson mist, not thick enough to truly obstruct her vision but tinting everything she saw a terrible, bloody scarlet.

An island appeared in front of her, just on the other side of where the stranger had vanished, its shores a ghostly bone white, with dark deadened trees rising out of the ground just beyond what she could see. A terrible figure, whose very movement made something in Morgana's hindbrain scream in warning, leaned out over the edge of the island and dipped a hand into the sea of parchment, drawing it back out with the fingers hooked into the collar of the stranger's robe. They dragged the person onto the island shore and leaned over them, Morgana screamed 'no!' and tried to get closer, getting within a fingers-breadth of touching the island before it vanished into the bloody mist like it had never been there.

Morgana almost lost her balance trying to lunge onto the island before it vanished, and barely caught herself in time, before her balance was once more upset by the movement of the paper and parchment surrounding her. She frantically looked around as some unknown force moved the pages faster and faster around her, a hurricane that she was the eye of, barely avoiding being sliced to pieces by the moving paper, an impossible wind whipping at her robes as they slowly bled colour.

And just as suddenly as the wind had started, it stopped. Morgana's robes were left almost entirely bleached of colour save the streaks of rust brown down the sleeves and skirts that could only be dried blood. A small thump had her looking towards where the pages had gathered and left behind a small black book that screamed malevolence.

Morgana tried to back away, but each step only brought her closer. A young girl with red hair appeared in front of the book and looked up at Morgana in fright.

"No. No more. Please!" she begged, "Stop it! Why are you doing this?"

Morgana couldn't control her body as she leaned down and picked up the book with one brown hand, her loose hair obstructing her view of the other girl, before she pocketed the book.

A young man appeared between them, smiling charmingly. He was handsome, she supposed, but something about him made her magic surge defensively, and she backed away as he extended one hand to her.

"Do you have my diary?" he asked her, tipping his head slightly to the side. When he received no answer he dropped his hand, "I'm so sorry, I should have introduced myself. My name is Tom Riddle. I think you've found something that belongs to me."

Morgana found herself smiling back at him and showing him the book that she had pocketed, even as her mind screamed danger and every instinct she had was shrieking at her to run. She looked down shyly and gave him back the diary, then turned to the red-haired girl, who was kneeling on the ground.

"I'm sorry," she told her, the words falling out of her mouth with no input on her part, "He gave us no choice."

The girl shut her eyes and nodded in understanding, despair etched across her face and Morgana felt her body begin to fall, her legs no longer capable of holding her up.

As she fell to the ground a burning bird appeared – a phoenix – and swept down to grab the book before catching fire, burning brighter and brighter as they both started to crumble to ash.

Morgana flung her hand in front of her eyes to protect from the brightness and when she blinked the spots out of her eyes, she found herself sitting on the bank of a lake.

It looked familiar somehow – like she'd seen it somewhere before. Like in a dream. Or a dream of a dream. A small group of people stood a short distance away, discussing something intently. The shortest, a woman with light brown hair and a stout stature turned towards her and brightened, tugging at the hand of the tallest, a dark man who was scowling, more habitually than out of any true ire, but who looked perturbed none the less. The two began walking towards her at a brisk pace, and the woman tried to say something, but no matter how much they walked they never got any closer and Morgana could hear nothing of what she was saying.

Morgana tried to move closer, but a cold hand grabbed her ankle with bony fingers and tugged and Morgana fell into the lake, sinking further and further into water so deep it was black.

"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it," a woman's voice said.

"Help will always be given," a man said in a deep voice.

"You need only ask," said a hoarse voice.

"Hogwarts will always help where she can," said a voice rich with emotions that Morgana couldn't identify.

And suddenly there were dozens of voices overlapping, "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. You need only ask. She will help." Morgana recognised Merlin's voice among them, alongside Dumbledore's, and another that sounded eerily familiar but that she couldn't quite identify, along with many that she didn't recognise at all.

The snake from before reared out of the darkness and Morgana screamed as it lunged for her, fangs bared.

A rooster crowed and-

Morgana woke up right before the snake buried its fangs in her neck.

"MORGANA!" Gwen shouted, catching her as she lunged upright, "What is it? What's happened? Are you ok? You were screaming."

Morgana breathed out shakily, her whole body trembling, "I-I don't know," She said, terrified, "I don't know."

. . .

20th August 14:07 – Amelia Bones' Office

"They're abusing him!" Meredith exclaimed, slamming the door closed.

Amelia looked up, put her quill down, and clasped her hands, leaning towards her unannounced guest, "Hello, Meredith. Please come in. My afternoon is a bit busy and quite stressful, thank you for asking, but of course I've got time to talk to you. Why don't you take a seat?" she said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"Hm?" Meredith frowned in confusion, "Oh, right. Sorry for just barging in." she sat down abruptly.

"Why don't you start from the beginning. You seem a bit agitated." Amelia prompted.

Meredith sighed heavily and leaned back against the seat. "It's about Emma's friend, Harry – Harry Potter? I'm almost certain that he's being abused."

Amelia removed her monocle and rubbed the bridge of her nose, "That's a heavy accusation – do you have proof?"

"That's the thing – it's all stories, and normally I'd dismiss it as teenagers exaggerating, but something about the way they were talking…"

"Who?"

"Emma went school shopping in Diagon Alley yesterday and ran into Harry Potter and the Weasley family – Arthur and Molly Weasley's family – among others. And the twins started telling them all about some daring rescue they made of Harry. If Emma had just come back and mentioned it idly, I'd have dismissed it, but… she said that they talked about there being bars on his window – and that's not the kind of detail that a teenager is likely to make up. The stuff about him being locked in his room, his school things being locked away – those could all be exaggerations to make the story more dramatic – but bars on his window?" Meredith shook her head, "I've raised a few teenagers and that's not the direction they tend to exaggerate. Between that and some of the things that Emma mentioned or wrote in her letters last year… how he didn't go home for any holidays and wasn't expecting any Christmas presents. That he apparently 'doesn't get on' with his family very well. The clothes that aren't part of his uniform being hand-me-downs several sizes too big… Individually it doesn't mean much, I know, but these little things start to add up into a picture that I don't like the look of. And I saw a picture that Emma took with them all yesterday. Harry's apparently been staying with the Weasleys for a couple weeks at this point, but he still looks thin and underfed."

Meredith took a photo out of her bag and handed it to Amelia. There was a group of children in it: a girl that strongly resembled the witch in front of her; a boy who could only be a Malfoy; a boy that was almost definitely Frank and Alice Longbottom's son; a young black girl with incredibly bushy hair; a boy who was undoubtedly a Weasley; and a boy that looked uncannily like James Potter, but with eyes almost the same shade of green as the killing curse that Amelia would bet good money on being the same as Lily Potter née Evans's. They all looked relatively happy, the Longbottom boy appeared to have a few scrapes on the palm of one hand, but they all seemed pretty healthy with the sole exception of the boy that could only be Harry Potter. He was noticeably thinner than the rest and looked slightly gaunt and hollow around his cheeks where they should be round with baby fat, his collarbones were sticking out alarmingly above the collar of a t-shirt that looked to be at least three sizes too big and was stretched oddly around the collar and shoulders.

Amelia put the photo down on her desk. It wasn't proof by any means, but Meredith was right – the picture painted was rather alarming.

"Do you mind if I keep a hold of this – I can go to the MJL and AMRS and see if they have anything unusual listed for Mr Potter. I can't promise anything, but I can get someone to look into it."

"There really should be a division that handles this in the Ministry." Meredith said, pressing her palm to her forehead.

"Well, unfortunately, every time someone's tried to pass an Act like that in the Wizengamot it gets voted down by a landslide majority, courtesy of the pureblood Lords, who don't want the Ministry to be able to take their children away if they think that they aren't being treated properly. And unfortunately, even the more moderate and forward thinking of the old families don't want to be subject to those standards, regardless of the fact that it would be for all magical children, not targeting them specifically."

"I mean, I'm fairly certain that there is no small number of teachers at Hogwarts that would start reporting on several of them if there was a division like that." Meredith said wryly, "Aislinn – a different niece – told me that there were at least four students in her year in abusive situations and three of them were purebloods, and that's not including those who were living with guardians that weren't their parents or who were simply being neglected, or those whose situations weren't necessarily abusive, but who never looked forward to the prospect of going home regardless."

Amelia sighed, "Unfortunately we need a Wizengamot majority to get the authority for something like that, and there's only so much I can do. But what I can do is get someone to look into the situation, and to check if anything's been mentioned on the muggle side of things – if we can get any proof that the muggles aren't looking after him properly then I can probably swing getting him placed in a magical family at least, even if that doesn't solve the institutional problem."

"We probably won't be able to convince anyone that abuse has taken place without either Harry or his guardians outright admitting it and none of them will do that, but we can make a case for neglect." Meredith said, looking much happier than when she'd stormed into Amelia's office, "And you can be sure that next time an Act like that comes up for consideration, House Ambrosius will be advocating heavily for it to go through."

Amelia smiled, "I appreciate it. And you can leave now." She added when Meredith made no move to get up.

"Harry's situation?"

"Is not something that you can be involved in, I'm afraid, but I'll let you know as soon as I know anything."

Meredith huffed but conceded, "Fine, I'll be off then. I'll see you soon, Amelia, and I hope you have a relatively quiet weekend."

Amelia let out a short bark of laughter, "That's unlikely, there are three Wizengamot members whose agreement I need for the-" Amelia waved her fingers vaguely but pointedly in the air, "-situation we're trying to solve, who are being annoyingly stubborn. I may have to break out the favours and my late aunt's book of secrets to sway them."

Meredith smiled wryly as she left, "Good luck."

. . .

24th August 15:31 – Amelia Bones' Office

"Do you want the good news, the bad news, or the worse news?" Amelia asks Meredith as soon as she's shut the door.

Meredith groaned, "Oh Goddess! The bad news. Give me the bad news first."

Amelia tilted her head in acknowledgement and took the folder about Harry Potter's living situation from the desk and handed it to Meredith. "The bad news is that Albus Dumbledore is the one who placed Mr Potter with his current guardians, who are in fact his maternal aunt and uncle and his closest living relatives. Not only are they his closest living relatives, but Dumbledore insists that living with them provides the best possible protection possible on account of blood wards that he erected on the household."

Meredith stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"That's what I have." Amelia shrugged, "I couldn't get any further details than that, but I did look further into the family tree. James Potter was an only child of only children and his parents both predeceased him. Lily Potter only had the one sister – who Harry Potter currently lives with – and her parents likewise predeceased her. An argument could be made for closest living magical relatives, but Euphemia Potter was an Indian Avery by birth and as far as I can tell, her closest living relatives all still live in East India – the region of West Bengal if I'm not mistaken. The Averys that live in Britain – apart from producing multiple Death Eaters or suspected Death Eaters – are distant cousins at best – the closest common ancestors I could find on record date back to the 1780s before two out of the then five siblings in the main line decided to emigrate out to West Bengal in the aftermath of the muggle East India Trading Company conquering the area – I'm given to understand that they wanted a fresh start away from their family's ancestral influence and thought that between the geographic barrier and the fact that there were a fair few muggles and wixen emigrating out from both the Isles and other European countries, they wouldn't stand out and would be able to make something of themselves. If I understand the records that we have and those that the Indian Ministry of Magic sent over at my request, it wasn't quite that simple for them but when they adjusted to and embraced the local magical culture, they managed to integrate well enough and have since quite flourished.

"James Potter's paternal grandmother was a Blishwick, but that family went extinct in name in the 1920s and as far as descendants are concerned, the only living one remaining seems to be Harry Potter. Henry Potter – James Potter's paternal grandfather – had two siblings – a brother and a half-sister, but the brother's descendants were Charlus Potter and his family, and I'm sure you recall what happened to them. The sister died at age 12 in a tragic accident at Hogwarts – all the records are classified although I'm sure there are still residents at Hogwarts that know what happened. As for Henry Potter's mother – she was quite literally the last of her line, which means that Harry's closest living magical relatives would be through his grandfather's great-grandmother – and no one's going to accept that when he's got a perfectly good maternal aunt right there who's already raising him."

Meredith sighed, "But the blood wards will be all but useless. I know exactly what kind of wards Dumbledore is putting his faith in and they depend on love and affection – if Harry's relatives are abusive, which I think we're both agreed on – or even if they're just neglectful, the wards themselves will be weakened. I can think of at least three different protective wards or spells that are more effective just off the top of my head. And that's not including Old Magic. Druid wards and protective spells are practically unparalleled in terms of efficacy. It requires another Old Magic user to bring them down, and even then, there are numerous factors that come into play – it's more likely by far for someone to die trying or trick their way past the wards using contact with someone that lives behind them than it is to successfully break through them. Unless Harry's aunt and uncle love him like a second son, the wards leave him vulnerable to most threats. Funnily enough if the wards are the ones I think they are then they'll only be useful against someone that has the same magical signature as the person that killed Lily Potter, or who is inextricably bound to someone with the same magical signature. Any other threat won't even register with the wards. And that's if they even work in the first place – I recently came across certain information regarding Lily Potter's heritage that would mean the kind of magic that Dumbledore is relying on may not even work with her bloodline – don't ask." She added at Amelia's curious look, not willing to try and explain the different magical interactions surrounding fae-blessed at the current juncture.

"Great." Amelia said with feeling, "That's not even the worse news."

Meredith dropped her shoulders and took a deep breath, "Is it about his godparents?" she guessed, "By all rights they should have had custody unless the will specified a magical family member first."

"The worse news," Amelia said apologetically, "Is that both of Harry Potter's godparents are unable to take care of him and their closest living relatives are either inappropriate or equally unable to care for him."

"They're dead?" Meredith guessed.

"Worse." Amelia said, "His godmother is Alice Longbottom née Prewett, and his godfather is Sirius Black."

"Oh." Meredith said, her expression softening in understanding.

"Alice Longbottom is currently in the long-term care ward in St Mungo's and unlikely to ever leave, and Sirius Black is…" Amelia waved her hand, her gesture encompassing all the paperwork relating to her attempt to correct the injustices from 1981 and 1982 and the fact that there was a strong possibility that Sirius Black was innocent of the crimes he was imprisoned for.

"And for obvious reasons, his relatives are not the right people to take in Harry."

"On his father's side his closest living relative is his grandmother, but she's unwell – grief – and unable to care for another, yet alone a teenager – she is currently living with her husband's cousin. On his mother's side, Sirius Black's closest living relative is either his recently deceased Uncle's wife, or one of their three daughters. Bellatrix Lestrange is in Azkaban, Andromeda Tonks was disowned, and Narcissa Malfoy is – well you see my point."

"I'm guessing any argument for Andromeda Tonks taking him in could equally be applied to Narcissa Malfoy and the latter has her husband's prestigious name and family money backing her up, along with the fact that she wasn't disowned."

"Andromeda Tonks' daughter still lives with her and is currently an Auror Trainee, and Andromeda Tonks is a licensed Potioneer with Healer training employed at St Mungo's, but Narcissa Malfoy lives in an ancestral Manor whose wards are generations old so there's an argument to be made for both that is unlikely to go anywhere or do anything other than cause problems for Mr Potter at home."

"What about Alice Longbottom? Does she have any close living relatives? I know the Prewetts were targeted in the war and had more than their fair share of tragedy."

"Her parents and most of her aunts, uncles, and cousins of varying degrees either died during the war or shortly afterwards. Her uncle – the current head of House Prewett – is alive, as is her cousin Molly Weasley née Prewett. She also has a brother – Simon Prewett – who is a former Auror – he retired after his partner was killed in the line of duty, approximately a month or so after the attack on his sister – he still visits the Mind Healers in St Mungo's religiously according to one of my sources. He currently lives with a distant cousin, who home-schools his children, and Simon Prewett has indicated a desire to home-school his own children. I have strong reason to believe that even if we could convince the Wizengamot to place Harry with him, he'd say no to the possibility."

"Any other bad news to go along with that?" Meredith asked resignedly.

"We have no idea what the Potter's wills said, or who their back-up guardians for their son would be in the case that his godparents are unable to care for him – as far as I can tell the executor of the Will – whoever it is – never contacted either Gringotts or the Ministry to do so and until they do or there is otherwise a custody dispute regarding Harry that would require it, we have no other options. Harry has to stay with his muggle relatives. Unless we can prove that they've abused him in a tangible way, there's simply no way to go against the Chief Warlock in regards to his placement."

"I'm guessing that you didn't find anything on the muggle side of things then?"

"Absolutely nothing – which in itself is odd – this is a picture of Dudley Dursley – Harry Potter's maternal cousin," Amelia handed the photo to Meredith whose eyebrows shot to her hairline, "I noticed the incredible difference in their sizes too – any teacher worth the parchment their teaching credentials are written on would have at the very least mentioned this to whoever is in charge of child welfare in their school – and from there, from what I recall and understand of the muggle system – this would then need to be reported to both the Department of Education and local law enforcement, which would leave some sort of trace that we would have found."

"That's worrying." Meredith noted mildly, "It indicates some level of subterfuge is occurring although where and on what level I have no idea."

"Indeed. But there's nothing we can do about this until or unless an outside party with reason to have interest in Mr Potter's health and wellbeing comes forward with a report – be that a teacher, a Hogwarts member of staff, or an adult in his life that has reason to notice and care – and unfortunately, Meredith, you have not spent enough time in contact with either Mr Potter or his late parents to qualify."

Meredith thought for a moment, "Would Sirius Black qualify?" she asked speculatively.

Amelia smirked at her, "He would – if he were not in Azkaban. And since we have reasonable doubt in the validity and fairness of his imprisonment, I'm sure that someone could mention a mild concern to him to see if he couldn't raise a fuss himself."

"It's official then? You can reopen the investigations into those cases?"

Amelia smiled and took a large sip of her now-cold tea. "That would be the good news I mentioned earlier. I've got the support I need to reopen the cases and start a combined panel and taskforce to look into them. It'll take a month or so to make the initial arrangements but we should be able to start reinvestigating and reinterviewing people by the end of September, although I doubt we'll be able to move anyone from Azkaban for interview and investigation before November at the earliest – and I've got some serious arguing in my future for those cases that I'm trying to overturn the sentences on – I want the accused to be released into a friend or family member's custody for healing and recovery before trial since our evidence for their incarceration tends towards circumstantial evidence and assumptions of guilt based on prejudiced observations or relatives of the accused rather than any actual evidence of Death Eater activities, 'imperiused' or otherwise. They never even got a trial for Merlin's sake!"

"That's fantastic, Amelia! Congratulations."

"Couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for bringing the whole situation to my attention."

. . .

29th August 12:28 – Cardiff Central Station, Cardiff

There was no sign of Merlin among the crowds at the exit of Cardiff train station, but there were two people in quiet conversation holding a sign with the words 'Sir Loyalty the brave and noble' on it, and he couldn't help his fond sigh as he went over to who he presumed were the 'kids' that Merlin wanted to introduce him to. He wondered if immortality had maybe skewed her viewpoint slightly – they both looked to be around his age. The girl was fairly tall and built like a farmer or a knight – there was a solidity to her presence that couldn't be denied. Her hair was that odd colour that was somewhere between brown and blonde and could appear to be either depending on lighting, and her light olive skin was freckled and had a healthy glow to it. She was scowling. The boy couldn't look more different than her on the surface – he wasn't particularly tall and was much leaner – he was clearly built more for speed and flexibility than strength. His skin was several shades darker than hers with a smattering of stubble over his jawline, and his short dark hair had a distinct curl to it. He was wearing a very familiar stubborn expression.

Despite the fact that their outside appearances were so dissimilar, he couldn't help but think that they were so clearly siblings. Their faces changed to the exact same surprised expression before settling into neutrality – the boy's faster than the girl's – and their body language mirrored each other as they both squared their shoulders and turned towards him fully, with a slightly defensive tilt to their torso. It was so incredibly familiar that Lancelot would almost think that this was a magic trick – he'd lost track of the number of times that he had seen Merlin do the exact same thing, right down to the stubborn set to her jaw. He'd seen Hestia do it a few times too, he realised with a pang of loss – she'd taken such glee from following her mother around and copying her.

"Lancelot, right?" the girl said abruptly, a familiar accent curling around her words.

"Uh, yes." He said, slightly taken aback, "It's nice to meet you…" he trailed off as he held his out to shake and she ignored it.

"You'll have to forgive Ash," the boy said, stepping forward and shoving the sign at her, "She's in a bit of a mood. I'm Sebastian, she's my younger sister, Aislinn. We've heard so much about you." His dark eyes sparkled with a teasing glint that threw Lancelot right back to running circles around the knights with Merlin.

"While I'd love to say the same, the first time I found out about your existence was last week when Merlin asked if I was still coming down to meet you. I said yes, of course. But she hadn't actually mentioned that she had kids before that point."

And Aislinn was back to scowling.

"Yes, Mam is a bit forgetful," Sebastian said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled, "She's also running a bit late today, I'm afraid – but she said to go ahead to the restaurant without her and get started and she'll be along in a bit."

"I think I'd be more worried if she was on time," Lancelot confessed, gesturing for the siblings to lead the way, "The only time I remember her ever being on time for anything was in the midst of a crisis she needed to solve – she always had too much going on to be perfectly punctual, no matter how mad it drove Arthur."

Sebastian threw his head back in laughter, "That does sound like Mam."

"She's not always late." Aislinn said, sounding offended.

"Of course not," Lancelot soothed, "She's never late when its important – although I know several people who would disagree on the definition of what's important or not."

Sebastian smiled broadly at him, "And crises are important?"

"Crises, assassination attempts, the Druidic Autumn Festival of Samhain, and birthday parties for anyone she cared about except Arthur – who she was always late for on principle."

"Is that so." Aislinn said, flatly.

Lancelot glanced at her, and decided that changing the subject might be the better option here, "So, what drinks are we going to get? Beer? Or, no, let me guess – you're more of a wine drinker?"

Sebastian's smile didn't falter but an eyebrow twitched slightly, and Lancelot was under the sudden impression that he'd mis-stepped somewhere. "I don't drink actually," he said, with an undertone that Lancelot couldn't quite identify, "So I'll probably be sticking to water or juice."

"Oh," said Lancelot, slightly taken aback, but relieved it was something so simple, "Sorry, my mistake – I shouldn't have assumed."

"No," said Aislinn, snidely, "You shouldn't have. And I'm vegetarian," she added, sneering slightly, "In case you were wondering."

Lancelot resisted the urge to sigh. Getting to know Merlin's kids was clearly going to be much more of an uphill battle than he'd hoped.

. . .

1st September 11:09 – Hogwarts Express

Merlin was quite enjoying herself with Luna – who was every inch her mother's daughter in a manner that was entirely her own – and Megan – who wasn't quite as shy in front of the younger girl as she was among their classmates – when Hermione slammed open the door to the compartment, Neville and Ron's sister - Ginny if Merlin remembered correctly - in tow, looking quite frazzled.

"You haven't seen the boys, have you? Only Ginny said that Mrs Weasley told them to stick with her and we can't find them."

'The boys' in this case, could be none other than Harry and Ron, as Neville was standing next to Hermione and Draco was either snoozing in the corner of the compartment or putting on a very good performance of being dead to the world.

Merlin resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They were barely ten minutes into the term and already it seemed to be starting off to the same pattern as last term – Gryffindor boys in trouble, Slytherin friends trying to stay out of it, her and Hermione squarely in the middle. "Maybe they found a compartment and decided to stay there?" she suggested, hoping against hope that the only trouble that they'd managed to find was of the benign kind and that whichever house-elf had been messing with Harry had stopped.

Hermione shook her head, "But if they cut it as close as Ginny said, why wouldn't they look for us?"

Ginny shyly piped up, "They were right behind us when we were coming onto the platform – we only just made it in time, and I haven't seen them since.

Megan hunched her shoulders slightly as Hermione gestured to prove her point and Merlin resisted the urge to frown at her friend.

"Maybe they missed the train?" Neville suggested after a long moment of Hermione staring at Merlin to try and get a response and Merlin refusing to rise to the bait because she wanted at least five minutes without someone getting into trouble after her ridiculously busy summer.

"Yes, Neville, exactly!" Merlin said, "Maybe they missed the train. In which case, it's no big deal, Ron's parents will have found them, and they'll get the boys to school."

Before Hermione could come up with a response, Luna dreamily asked them if they were coming in to join them or going to sit somewhere else and everyone started to move around their luggage to try and fit it all on the racks.

She and Ginny quickly fell into a conversation that reassured Merlin that they were at least acquainted and friendly with each other, and Draco stopped pretending to be asleep in order to poke at Hermione and Neville, in a spectacular mood that Merlin couldn't help but wonder about. She was, however, thankful that the others were distracted enough that she could get closer to Megan and ask if she was alright, knowing that she wasn't particularly comfortable around most people.

The conversation derailed, as such things tend to do, and Merlin eventually managed to get around to the topic of language help and repeated her offer from the summer to help Megan with her English. The other girl smiled and mentioned that she'd bought a notebook specifically to work on things that she had trouble with, and Merlin helped her with her trunk as she rummaged for it.

And then Megan pulled out a small black book and Merlin's blood ran cold. She'd seen this book before. It was one of the images in a series of warning visions that she'd seen in the Crystal of Neahtid before she'd started at Hogwarts again, and she knew better than to assume that just because the initial image was harmless it meant that the events that would play out would be equally so. And she couldn't help but feel like there was something more to the vision. After all, what on earth could an image of nothing more than a blank diary signify unless the diary itself was part of the message? She couldn't suppress the trickle of dread that ran down her spine, despite not knowing where it came from.

And although Merlin managed to cover for her lapse, she remained distracted for the rest of the conversation.

Perhaps the house-elf that had tried to warn Harry had been onto something. It was like someone had stepped over her grave. Terrible things happening at Hogwarts this year may not be so far off…

. . .

18:42 – Great Hall, Hogwarts

By the time the new first years were led in, everyone should already have been present. But Hermione still couldn't see the boys. She only barely paid attention as Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on the stool and it opened its brim to sing.

Once there were four dear friends
Of a united mind,
To make a place of safe and learning
For others of their kind:
Kind and patient Hufflepuff,
Who loved those fair and faithful,
Always willing to lend a hand
And invite others to their table;
Keen and thoughtful Ravenclaw,
Prized those who thought between
Those narrow paths and well-worn trails
That long discussed had been;
Gallant, daring Gryffindor,
Preferred those who jumped ahead,
Uncaring of the danger
If to better things it led;
And shrewd, determined Slytherin,
Who'd never shy away
From those with lofty aspirations
Or a taste for tricky games.

Said those great Founders Four:
"We'll teach those who've got the skill,
And hide them all away from those
Who'd only wish them ill."
And so they went and found a place
To raise these very walls,
Protection and teaching
Are the aims of these old halls.
But first you must be placed
Where you will find your kin,
Sorted into four Houses,
And that's where I come in!
For I do more than sit and sing
And say some pretty lines;
Try me on and you will find
Your House I will divine.

Scanning the Gryffindor table again as the Hall burst into applause did not yield any different results to the first three times she'd looked. And she only barely noted the first four first years becoming 'HUFFLEPUFF!', 'RAVENCLAW!', and 'SLYTHERIN!'

"I'm sure they're fine." Emma said from across the table, "They probably just missed the train." She repeated again.

"If they missed the train then where are they? They should be here by now!" Hermione insisted, barely joining in on the clapping in time as 'Creevey, Colin' became the first new Gryffindor of the year.

She ignored 'Gardiner, Thaddeus' as he went to sit at the Hufflepuff table and clapped as 'Goldstein, Julia' became the second Gryffindor of the year, looking around as though doing so would yield some new information this time.

Except…

"Where's Professor Snape?" Hermione hissed, as 'Harper, Michael' became a Slytherin.

Neville's head whipped around to stare at the staff table as he absentmindedly joined in on the clapping for 'Holloway, Richard'. "He's not there," he confirmed, dumbfounded, and sounding slightly anxious, "Why isn't he there?"

"Maybe he had an errand to run." Emma said waspishly, "Could you please stop catastrophising and pay attention!" She smiled and turned to face the Sorting Hat as 'Hunter, Matthias' became another Gryffindor, "The boys are idiots, but they're not stupid, they're probably just late or they were told not to interrupt the Sorting."

Hermione frowned stubbornly, convinced that there was something wrong, as 'James, Hannah' became the third new Gryffindor in a row.

A vaguely familiar girl – a 'Jones, Bronwen' – was being called up to the Hat but Hermione was too preoccupied to wonder where she knew her from.

"I just hope they haven't managed to get themselves in trouble." She finally conceded under the clapping from the Ravenclaw table.

"If they have, it's probably not a good thing that Professor Snape's not at the table," Neville said, wincing, "He really doesn't like Harry."

"He'd better not pick on them just because he can," Emma said, suddenly reengaging with the conversation, "Not liking a student is no excuse to be nasty!"

Hermione and Neville exchanged a glance as the girl currently under the Hat was sorted into Hufflepuff, and a 'Levinson, Nathanael' was called to try on the Hat. It was no secret that Emma didn't like bullies, and she especially didn't like bullies who were also Potions Professors and picked on her Housemates for no reason that any of them could figure out – Professor Snape just really had it out for Harry and Neville specifically, but clearly had no love for Gryffindors in general, Ron as Harry's friend, Hermione as a student, or Emma and her constant challenges to his authority, his attitude, and his animosity to the Gryffindor students in their year.

Before either of them could say anything, the Hat shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!" and Emma instantly turned to face the front as 'Lovegood, Luna' was called up.

Having met the odd girl on the train, and witnessed the bizarre friendship she seemed to already have with Emma, Hermione refrained from commenting and simply said, "I'm sure she'll be sorted happily."

Privately, Hermione didn't know where she thought the bizarre girl would end up – perhaps with the Hufflepuffs, who were 'fair and faithful'.

As the minutes ticked by, one-by-one, and Luna Lovegood became a hat-stall, Hermione began running through the possibilities in her head. Luna didn't really have the same sideways way of thinking that Malfoy and Niamh did (and Hermione really just didn't understand how they ever came to the conclusions they did – which was probably why the Hat had never considered Slytherin for her) and she didn't seem loud or reckless or anything remotely similar – and, admittedly, Hermione wasn't really any of those things either, and certainly knew better than to place stereotypes on people, especially when she didn't fit the idea that people had of Gryffindors herself, but still, Luna wasn't remotely similar to any of her housemates. Luna didn't really strike her as a Ravenclaw either. They were all quite studious, and it wasn't uncommon to see them with their nose in a book, and those that tended to the more curious and inventively adventurous were far louder about their interests than Luna had been on the train. And Luna did seem to be a very loyal person, with quite the set idea of fairness. Hermione had just concluded that the girl would end up in Hufflepuff, when the Sorting Hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!" and the blue-and-bronze bedecked table started clapping.

Hermione sent a befuddled look to Emma and Neville, but Emma looked rather satisfied, like something had been confirmed for her, and Neville didn't look at all confused.

Hermione missed the name of the boy after Luna who also became a Ravenclaw and instead tried to figure out where she'd gone wrong in classifying Luna as a Hufflepuff instead of a Ravenclaw.

'Macnair, Katherine' became another Slytherin and Hermione continued to try and parse out the flaws in her own logic as another two girls became Gryffindors and the next a Hufflepuff.

"Why did Luna go to Ravenclaw?" she eventually asked Emma, assuming that the other girl knew something about Luna Lovegood that she'd missed.

Emma tilted her head in confusion, and they both joined in the applause as another boy was sorted into Gryffindor, "I thought it was obvious," she said in confusion, "I was more confused that she was a hat-stall than that she was a Ravenclaw."

Hermione frowned, idly noting the Hat shouting "RAVENCLAW!" and the boy under it taking it off and moving to sit by Parvati's sister. Before she could ask for clarification, however, Emma's head snapped around to stare at 'Popov, Simeon Radomirov', face painted in shock.

"Emma?" Neville asked tentatively, having also caught her surprise, "Is everything ok?"

Emma shushed him and leaned towards the front slightly, squinting at the boy under the Hat.

"Emma?" Hermione tried and got Emma flapping a hand at her to indicate for her to shut up in response. Sally-Anne, who was sitting next to them, Lavender and Parvati on her other side – all of whom had been pointedly ignoring her minor panic over Harry and Ron in favour of sighing in the direction of an admittedly snappily dressed Gilderoy Lockhart (and Hermione was only slightly jealous that the boys were depriving her of the ability to do so – slightly) – shrugged at her and Neville, clearly just as baffled.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the Hat and Emma breathed out slowly, her shoulders dropping, as her expression twisted slightly in confusion, before nodding to herself in a sort of 'that makes sense' kind of motion.

"What was that about?" Seamus asked, leaning over Dean, and speaking across Neville.

"The Popovs aren't from the Isles," was all Emma said, before turning to Hermione and effectively ending the conversation (if not their collective interest) by changing the subject, "And in answer to your question about Luna," she said, as the next girl was also sorted into Hufflepuff, "You've made the very common mistake of assuming that Ravenclaws are all either overly interested in school, overtly loud about their interests, or both of the above. Luna is curious, inventive, and looks at things in a way that others don't. Of course, she's a Ravenclaw. Where else would she go?"

Hermione sighed as the Hat shouted "SLYTHERIN!" and shrugged.

"I was thinking Hufflepuff," she admitted.

Emma squinted at her, taken aback, "N-no?"

Neville made a face that said he agreed with Emma when Hermione looked to him for support.

"Luna would never be a Hufflepuff," Emma said, under the Hat sorting a girl into Slytherin the instant it touched her head, "She's not straightforward enough and the fairness of something is more of an afterthought for her – she's much less fussed about it than the vast majority of Hufflepuffs. She'd more than likely be a Gryffindor if she wasn't a Ravenclaw."

Another girl became a Ravenclaw as Hermione mulled over Emma's words, and the last boy – a 'Sykes, Matthew' was called up, leaving a handful of girls left to be sorted.

"Why Gryffindor?" she asked eventually.

"There are a lot of different types of bravery." Emma said, voice soft and serious, "Sometimes the biggest acts of bravery are the ones that go unnoticed by everyone else."

Hermione sat back, unsettled by Emma's gaze as the words rattled around in her head, hitting a mark that Hermione didn't think she had been aiming for.

When the Hat shouted "RAVENCLAW!" she took the excuse to look forward and away from Emma's too-serious gaze.

"Weasley, Ginny," called Professor McGonagall, and Hermione was glad of something else to focus on.

Hermione had expected Ginny to be sorted into Gryffindor immediately, like Ron had been last year. But instead, the Hat stayed quiet, talking to her about something.

Nearly a minute went by before the Hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" and Hermione let out a quiet sigh of relief and saw Percy Weasley sag slightly. She couldn't imagine how nerve-racking that must have been for the younger girl – with six older brothers in Gryffindor and the Hat clearly debating over where to sort her. She ignored 'Wilson, Tamora' and instead followed Ginny's progress to sit with the other new Gryffindor first-years. The three girls ignored her, already deep in conversation, but one of the boys smiled shyly at her, and another bounced slightly in his seat as he said something. One of her twin brothers leaned over the table and said something to Ginny and her smile bloomed on her face, the lonely expression wiped away as if it had never been there.

As 'Woodward, Kimberly' was sorted into Slytherin and the last first year – 'Yaxley, Amanda' – was called to sit on the stool, Hermione caught sight of Professor Snape coming in through the door behind the staff table and quickly kicked Emma under the table, jerking her head at the Potions Master when Emma and Neville both looked at her.

"He does not look happy," Neville said apprehensively.

Hermione wanted to point out that Professor Snape never looked happy, but admittedly, as one of his favourite targets, Neville would probably be able to tell if he was in a fouler mood than usual.

"Ok, you were right," Emma said, surprising Hermione, "The boys did get into trouble – look at Snape – that's the same face he uses when Harr- someone has done something that he hates but that he can punish them for. With the boys not here, it has to be them."

Professor McGonagall picked up the stool and the Sorting Hat and walked briskly towards Professor Snape as Professor Dumbledore stood up to address the hall.

None of them paid the slightest bit of attention to what he was saying, instead focussing on where Professors Snape and McGonagall were having a rapid, unpleasant discussion.

"The boys are in trouble," Hermione said, sighing, knowing the signs after nearly a year.

"The boys are in trouble." Emma agreed, resigned.

Neville groaned, "At least this time we're not in trouble with them?" He tried, as Emma twisted around to try and catch Draco's eye from clear across the Hall.

"At least there's that," Hermione said bleakly, as the dishes in front of them filled with all manner of delicious foods and everyone around them began to tuck in.

. . .

Late Evening – Gryffindor Tower

Neville looked up sharply when the common room suddenly exploded into applause and caught sight of Ron and Harry being hauled through the portrait hole into the common room as countless housemates congratulated them. Hermione, scowling, scrambled in after them and Neville turned to Emma, grinning. He caught the tail end of a truly impressive eye-roll.

She stood up, "I'm going to go and give Hermione my condolences on the new depths of stupidity that the boys have managed to sink to." She said, clearly resisting another eye-roll.

"Come on, you have to admit it is at least a little impressive." Neville said, leadingly.

"Impressive… stupid…" Emma moved her hands as though she were weighing the two options against each other, "Both." She said decisively, "Definitely both."

Neville grinned and noticed Harry and Ron escaping up the stairs to the dormitories as Percy Weasley tried to push through the crowds to get to them, a scowl twin to Hermione's adorning his face as the boys called 'Night!' over their shoulders.

Emma visibly restrained herself from rolling her eyes again. "Oh, go on. I'll see you in the morning."

Neville beamed at her, "G'night, Emma, sleep well," he said, already moving towards the spiral staircase.

"Goodnight!" She called after him, and he smiled to himself at the exasperation in her voice as she presumably went to find Hermione and comfort her over the latest shenanigans Ron and Harry had managed to get into.

. . .

If you skipped the two sections in Amelia Bones' Office containing references to child abuse then the plot-relevant points you missed are Amelia and "Meredith" attempting to remove Harry from the Dursleys care and failing due to not having enough evidence or cause that will be accepted by the Ministry and Wizengamot and not manging to find someone with a greater claim than them that would be both willing and an acceptable alternative with the exception of Sirius Black who for obvious reasons cannot take care of Harry. They then discuss Amelia's success at reopening the 13 cases that were mishandled during Crouch's tenure and Amelia reveals that she should be able to start reinvestigating by the end of September and that she wants those that are probably innocent of the crimes they were accused of to be moved into their family or friends' care until they stand trial in order to recover from a decade in Azkaban but will first have a lot of convincing to do before she can authorise it.

Morgana's dreams continue to be chock full of information that she doesn't understand and warnings that aren't clear enough for her to parse into anything workable. They also really really suck for her and I almost feel like apologising.

Writing the Sorting Song was one of the last things I did for this chapter because it was way harder than I thought it would be to write it and I just couldn't get it to work. Also Ginny's year now has actual people in it and more than just Luna and Colin will be popping up again.

Please feel free to comment with questions or speculation or come and scream at me on tumblr under the same name