So these are snippets set at various points after the series. Each snippet is like a window into the girls' lives after the war. It is here where I will, eventually, explore what could have been different about Cursed Child. Please, enjoy the last of The Neglected House and its Champions and thank you for your attention.
After The End
(This is based on the Tumblr post by Marauders4evr. It's a solid theory; I just poked it a little.)
May 6th, 1998
In St. Mungo's Harry sat by Lupin's bedside, tears glistening behind his glasses. Lupin had been unconscious for two days and inconsolable for another after being informed of Tonk's death.
"You say I was there?" Lupin asked curiously as Harry recounted his conversation with the Shades of the Resurrection Stone.
Harry nodded, "I thought you were dead. I mean, you showed up with Sirius and my parents and I thought you had died. And you said that Teddy would know why you died…!" He swallowed back the tears that threatened to over come him. He would not cry, not now.
"You said we were ok with you meeting Voldemort in the forest?" His head was still a little muddled so he was walking back through the story.
"Yeah. Sirius said dying was 'quicker and easier than falling asleep' and you said that Voldemort would be sure to make it quick because he wanted it to be over. My parents said they were proud of me."
Gently and slightly amused, Remus asked, "Tell me, Harry, does that sound like us? Your parents whose dying words were about protecting you? Me who, believing Sirius was the reason James and Lily were dead, lectured you on your use of the Map? Or Sirius who broke out of Azkaban when he discovered Peter was masquerading as your best friend's rat? Sirius, who died fighting beside you in the Department of Mysteries?"
Harry opened his mouth, closed it and mumbled, "No, not really."
Breaking a chocolate bar in half, Lupin passed one piece to Harry, "Tell me the story again. The bit about the middle brother and the stone."
"Hermione tells it better, but the middle brother wanted to humiliate and cheat Death so he asked for something to return life to the dead. Death gave him a stone from the river and when turned three times, the brother's wife appeared to him. But she wasn't alive, not really. She wasn't a ghost either and she eventually got sad and he killed himself to set her free."
Lupin mulled this over in his mind, "I think perhaps the stone shows us something like what the Mirror of Erised shows us, our heart's true desire. You wanted to see us again, just as the brother wanted to see his wife again. But because the stone was created by Death in response to what we are meant to perceive as a selfish request, perhaps the stone has an ulterior motive where the mirror does not. Perhaps the stone twists what we want to see in order to fulfill Death's goal for the middle brother, to lead us to our deaths."
"So… Because Death created the stone for a guy he wanted dead it's, like, cursed to convince the user to kill themselves?"
Remus smiled, "Well, assuming that the story is historically accurate and it truly was Death who created the Hallows for the reasons Beedle the Bard gives. Remember though, that Beedle was, ultimately, a story teller."
"So they might not have really been my parents or Sirius."
"Well it definitely wasn't me you saw, as I am not dead."
Remus would go on to raise his son while tutoring Hogwarts students in Defense Against the Dark Arts, those parents that had a problem with his condition generally advised their children to stay away from him. Sometimes that worked, other times the kids came to him anyway. He raised Teddy as he felt Tonks would have wanted; combining his own childhood rebellion with the wisdom adulthood had brought. He encouraged him to hone his metamorphagus skills and was touched when Teddy decided to honor his werewolf father by tapering his ears to points—which Remus maintained had nothing to do with the extra piercings Teddy could fit that way. When Teddy was thirteen they went to a Weird Sister's concert in honor of Tonks.
He battled the bone crushing sorrow that came with losing the woman he loved and there were days, especially in the beginning, where making sure Teddy was fed and clean were the only things that got him through the dark and into the day. He was responsible for someone else now and by Merlin if he wasn't going to screw it up the way he was still afraid he might.
As a toddler, Teddy roamed the castle while his dad was working, except on the days where he was with his grandma. He befriended the portraits with his mood-ring hair and gap-toothed smile and he was adopted as the school mascot by a good portion of the students. They took it upon themselves to keep an eye on him, make sure he didn't fall down any wells since Sirius wasn't there to reenact 'Lassie'. He pulled McGonagall's tail once when she wasn't expecting it; this amused everyone but McGonagall.
XXX
May 11th, 1998
The week after the battle that killed the Dark Lord, the girls got on with their lives. They couldn't stay working for Aberforth forever after all. So Jo dressed herself in her best non-dress robes and Apparated over to the Ministry of Magic, where she presented herself for Auror training.
The department had suffered some losses during the war, from Rufus Scrimgeour to Nymphadora Tonks and welcomed its new candidates with, well, not with welcome arms because Auror training was ruthless, diligent, and constantly vigilant, but as warmly as such a department could.
Alongside Jo, the new recruits included Harry and Ron and Neville, plus a few others she didn't know.
In Diagon Alley, staring at a dark door that filled her with nerves and excitement, Leili took a deep breath. She scrubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans, tossed her braid over her shoulder and opened Ollivander's front door.
"Step up to the counter, I'll be just a moment," his voice floated to her. She leaned her elbows on the counter and waited. Ollivander came around the corner, much smaller than she remembered. He looked old, wizened. "Ah, Miss Akina, how's your wand?"
"Trusty, as always," she held it clasped in her hands on his counter. "Mr. Ollivander," she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and said, "I'd like to be your apprentice."
"I beg your pardon?" he asked, surprised. He'd expected a much more mundane request, wand polish or something.
She panicked, "You are the best wand maker in England, and I—I don't want to replace you, mind—I'd like to learn from you. Work with you. I like seeing kids get their first wand. I always peek in your shop windows when I'm in the alley. I've learned all Hogwarts can teach me and now I'd like to learn what you can teach me. I won't give away your secrets and if you'd rather pass the business to your children, I understand. But I'd like to learn from you, if you'll teach me."
He considered her in silence for a moment. By simply looking at her wand, clutched in her hands, he knew he'd sold it ten years earlier. "You graduated from Hogwarts some time ago, correct? Why come to me now?"
"There was something I had to do. Someone I had to protect. The war is over and they're safe now, or at least as safe as they can be, considering."
"Young Mister Potter, was it?" His eyes twinkled, reminding her of Dumbledore.
"Good guess," she laughed.
"Oh, it was no guess. I knew the moment I sold that wand, that we would see great things." He tugged her wand out of her grip and she let him, even if it felt like she was losing a security blanket.
"Mm…" she hummed. "He's just getting started, I think."
He looked at her wand, turning it this way and that way, giving it an experimental wave and then held it to his ear, "Mister Potter is destined for great things, yes, but you, you chose to do great things."
She squinted at him, a little suspiciously, "…Is my wand telling you that?"
Instead of answering her, he inspected her wand. She'd kept it in good shape. "Ebony and Dragon heartstring, a stubborn wand for a stubborn witch. And yet, the wand's flexibility gives credence to your own. You wish to be my apprentice?"
"I do."
He handed her a blindfold as he went to pull down two more wands from the shelf, "Put that on." She tied it securely around her eyes and waited. "The wand chooses the witch, Miss Akina, let us see if yours will do so." He lay her wand on the counter beside the other two and shuffled them around. "By this point in time, you should have developed a bond with your wand. You should be able to tell me of the wands on this table, which one is yours. You may not touch them, that would defeat the purpose."
She debated asking exactly what the purpose was. Pick out her wand with out seeing or touching, hmm? A shell game. She could be ok at these; admittedly that was when she could see.
"Relax your mind, Miss Akina. Let your magic do the work."
How was she supposed to do that? "Can you give me a hint?"
"You want to be my apprentice? You must prove it to me."
What did this have to do with making wands? Nevertheless, she took a few deep breaths, almost like she was going to Apparate. She fixed an image of her wand in her mind and tried to recall exactly how it felt in her hand, how it felt to do magic with it. She let her hand hover over the counter. "This one. I think."
She heard him shuffle, then say, "Again."
"…Here." More shuffling. Again and again she chose and again and again he shuffled, mixing in new wands every turn until she knew she was looking for a familiar warmth and a faint tingling in her fingertips because it wasn't there. "It's not here." She couldn't see it, but every time she found her wand, golden magic sparkled at the tip, her wand continued to choose her and this was what allowed her to distinguish it from the others without sight or touch.
"Take off your blindfold, Miss Akina. Well done."
"I passed?"
"Oh yes. Eventually, you'll be able to do that with perfect accuracy with every wand you ever make. Ever wondered how I remember every wand I've ever sold?"
"We all do."
"That's how. You imbue the wands you make with a bit of your own magic and the two will resonate, similarly to how you and your own wand resonate. The resonance will tell you about the wand, things like the wood and core material. Come on into the back, I'll show you around." Fingertips tingling, Leili stepped past the counter and into the rest of her life.
Eventually, the new government heads would get around to expunging the Gringotts break-in from all five records. They'd been lucky that Voldemort had chosen to attack Hogwarts as soon as he did because it meant that no one had time to pursue criminal actions—or indeed any other kind of action—on them. If the government wanted to pursue and prosecute who broke in to the bank, they were going to have to prosecute their golden boy Harry Potter as well as Jo and Leilani. This left everyone feeling pretty sure they were safe. They were still cautious about it, treating it kind of like an inside joke; if you know, you know but if you don't, they sure as hell weren't going to explain it to you!
XXX
—
Late May/Early June 1998
After Voldemort's defeat, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall asked former Professor Galatea Merrythought to return, she also asked Marcus Flint to teach. Marcus needed the job. More than that, he needed someone to trust him. As a former death eater, jobs—and trust—were hard to come by.
Possible employers saw the faded Mark on his arm and turned him away. But she had taught him, she knew what he was like and she knew from Severus and Harry how a scar could define a person, so she had invited him for the interview. She asked him off the record how he had come to join the Dark Lord's ranks and what he had done while part of it and he told her. He told her every painful detail. The things he'd done, the things he hadn't done; the people he'd hurt—intentionally and not.
She hired him on the spot.
Marcus and Galatea split the years; guest lecturing in each other's classes when asked but Professor Merrythought wanted to return to retirement.
Jo was forgiving Marcus and they had moved in together and for once in his life, everything was starting to go right.
XXX
—
After June 15th 1998
For a while, everything had been good, Marcus had a good job, an amazing fiancée, but then everything changed the day Aurors broke down their door. "MARCUS FLINT," someone shouted, "YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR TREASON."
"Wha-HEY!" Jo yelled as they pushed her back. It was a miracle they hadn't come in wands a-blazing. "Marcus!"
At the back of the herd surrounding her bewildered fiancé was the head Auror, Gawain Robards. He didn't usually come out for simple arrests, there was something else going on. "Auror Robards! What is going on? Why are you arresting him?"
"Treason, Auror-in-training Mongomery. Your fiancé is a Death Eater."
"Was. Past tense," Marcus said. He would never deny his membership as one of Voldemort's goons, the faded tattoo on his arm was proof enough, but he could at least keep repeating the point that he wasn't anymore.
"There's no such thing as a reformed Death Eater," one of the Aurors snarled, taking half a step forward.
"Really?" Jo said dryly. "You really want to have this argument right now, while you're holding him at wand point?"
"He'll be given a fair trial, Auror-in-training Montgomery," Auror Robards said sympathetically.
"Fair?" she asked incredulously. "Fair like the one Harry Potter was given before the start of his fifth year? Where the trial was moved so that the accused would be sure to miss it? Or fair like the ones held for the first generation of Death Eaters? Where the accused was put in a cage after who-knows-how-long with the Dementors?" She fumed. "Or fair like the Americans who send the accused into a death chamber filled with a hypnotic sludge? Or how about fair like Rubeus Hagrid, who was imprisoned for opening the secret chamber under Hogwarts when actually it was opened by a possessed eleven year old?!" Her voice rose to a shout at the end and she was gesturing so wildly that the two aurors that flanked her took several surreptitious steps away so she wouldn't accidentally (on purpose) smack them.
The Head Auror blanched slightly before recovering and repeating, "He'll be given a fair trial."
"Before you haul me away to my probable doom—"
"Marcus!" Jo took immediate objection to the phrase, to the mindset; he was giving up!
Marcus repeated louder, "Before you haul me away to my probable doom, I'd like to say good bye."
Auror Robards hesitated before nodding, just once. Marcus turned with exaggerated slowness and crossed the room to Jo who was fuming at the actions of the man who was technically her boss. Marcus cupped her face, noting the tears she was holding back by a thread. She was angry and she was scared.
"I'll fix this," she said, wrapping her fingers around his own and turning to kiss his palm.
"I love you," he murmured. "No matter what happens, I love you."
"Don't say that! If you say that it means you don't think you're coming back and you are coming back, if I have to sail to Azkaban and break you out of jail by myself. You're coming back."
"Don't be ridiculous. Leilani would have your back the whole time."
His hand muffled her bubble of a laugh; he kissed the top of her head and turned back to the Aurors who wound incarcerous around his wrists. They left and her apartment echoed with the ghosts of their footsteps. She called Leili—thank god for cell phones.
"Hey Jo," Leili greeted. "What's up?"
"Marcus has been arrested. I need you to tell Professor McGonagall and Draco and get over to the ministry. They want to put him on trial for being a Death Eater and I'm not risking losing him because they want to make a point."
"Got it." They hung up without so much as a goodbye
Jo Apparated to Whitehall, the last time she'd been to the Ministry she'd borrowed Umbridge's fireplace but in this case it would make a better impression if she used the visitor's entrance. No way in hell was she letting them railroad Marcus into a cell in Azkaban.
Minister Shacklebolt was in the process of getting rid of the Dementor guards and replacing them with a rotating shift of Aurors but he was getting some pushback from people who thought it was unnecessary—after all Dementors had been loyal guards up until recently. Surely with Voldemort gone they would go back to being the good little pet monsters they were. So far he'd succeeded in getting the lower levels, minimum security as it were, transitioned but as an all-but-convicted Death Eater, Marcus wouldn't be put with the likes of Mundungus Fletcher (imprisoned 1997, later escaped.) Jo both did and did not want to know how on earth he'd managed to impersonate an Inferius.
She popped into sight in a shadowed alley and strolled purposefully toward a red phone box. She dialed 6-2-4-4-2 and a voice echoed inside the box, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
"Jocelyn Montgomery, saving my fiancé."
The returned coins chute spat out her badge. "Thank you, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes. "Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium." The floor moved like a lift, lowering her into the Atrium. It was much the same as the last time she'd been here, the statue crushing Muggles beneath Magic's Might was gone and the old fountain that had been partially demolished during the fight to rescue Sirius had been repaired and reinstalled.
Jo ran across the atrium's floor, skidding sideways into a fast closing lift. "Auror Headquarters, please," she gasped to the man who controlled floor lever. The only surprise he showed was a brief blink before his nod.
A few minutes later the lift opened again and she sped down the hall, almost over shooting the office door. She yanked it open and went inside, "Auror Robards!" she called to the back of his head. "Where is Marcus?"
"He's been taken to the holding cells in preparation for his trial before the Wizengamot," he said before brushing past her. As he paused near the doorway he turned back to her, "Come on," he said. "I'm going that way."
Jo ran after him, "Why are you doing this?"
"It's not just your fiancé, we're rounding up all the Death Eaters we can find. Obviously the last time we arrested and interviewed the Death Eaters, we didn't do a very good job. Two of them went on to become teachers; one of them sat on the School board and regularly threatened the other members. One of them was smuggled out of Azkaban! Sirius Black was sent to prison without a trial. We need to do it right this time and that means arresting everyone bearing Voldemort's mark and putting them on trial. We have a fully vetted Wizengamot, mostly promoted Magical Law Councilmembers. I promise it will be fair. In fact, I'm glad you're here, it makes finding witnesses easier."
"I'm glad you said that actually, since the witnesses have just arrived. If you could just tell me how to get to the holding cells from the Atrium, I'll bring them down." She canceled the charm on her pendant as she memorized the directions. She returned to the Atrium to find a lost but determined Leilani, Draco, Professor McGonagall and a near-life size portrait of Albus Dumbledore, escorted by half a dozen baffled looking aurors.
Jo wrapped Leili in a hug, "Thanks for coming."
Leili rubbed Jo's back both to brace and comfort, "You know I'll come when you call. We got to Draco right as the Aurors arrived to arrest him. McGonagall talked them into standing down since we were heading here anyway. I'm not sure what use he'll be, a Death Eater testifying on behalf of another Death Eater? I'm not sure how well that's gonna go over."
"We'll see. Come on, we gotta go see Marcus before the trial starts. By the way… Dumbledore?"
Leili shrugged, "He wanted to come."
On level ten, down the hall from the courtrooms Draco was ushered into a holding cell. He bit back the automatic response of "My Father Will Hear About This" because there his father was: in a cell, looking more bedraggled than Draco had ever seen him. The line wouldn't have done him any good now anyway; Lucius had been all but convicted of Death Eater Activities and he didn't want to rely on his father's name anymore.
During Marcus' trial Jo spoke passionately about how yes, her fiancé was technically once a Death Eater but only because he'd been forced into it. She spoke of how he had tried to escape it but like Draco had been dragged into a life that he hadn't wanted. She spoke of how he would burn the world down for her and how she couldn't be happier with him in her life. He was a good man and a loyal one and she couldn't ask for anyone better to share her life with. She spoke of the time it took to understand what he had done and why he had done it and how she had come to forgive him. He was a Slytherin and he was cunning and he had ambitions but those were not bad traits to value or have. His cunning had saved her life and his ambitions were to be better than his parents, how could they fault him for that?
Leili spoke of the Slytherpuff Alliance and how much good it did for the students and how it had been he who had approached them with the idea. She spoke of how she had come to forgive his crimes against her best friend, how the grain of rice that had tipped the scale in his favor was how much he loved Jo. He loved her more than his own life, as he'd broken her heart to save her from Voldemort's schemes, a choice that surely would have meant his death if anyone had found out.
Professor McGonagall spoke of how he'd been a good student and was an even better teacher. She too spoke of the Alliance and how he still fostered goodwill between the hated and the over looked. He always had a kind word and a moment to spare for his students—no matter their house or family ties.
Upstairs, owls flooded Minister Shaklebolt's office with student testimonials.
Draco explained how he'd come to turn his back on his parents and the life they had chosen for him. He told how, as a student, he'd looked down his nose at the Alliance but the Alliance had still come to his assistance as a Death Eater, even if it had only been Marcus acting in everyone's best interest.
Jo and Leili walked Dumbledore's portrait forward like the Eater-Island Moai when Draco yielded the floor.
"We must not mistake those in the paintings for actual people, Miss Montgomery," one woman said.
"No, you're right, but the subject spends a lot of time and energy and magic teaching their portraits and this is Dumbledore we're talking about. If you could just hear him out…"
"I'll allow it," the head of the Wizengamot said.
Dumbledore's portrait was as eloquent as Dumbledore himself would have been, waxing poetic about how they had allowed Severus Snape to work at Hogwarts after the first War and Marcus' situation was not so very different. He spoke of no evidence that Marcus had done anything wrong while he acted as a member of the Death Eaters; he had neither hurt nor killed anyone and we all did things we regret. His speech went on for some time and by the time he was done, tears misted the eyes of many a member.
Finally Marcus was brought into the courtroom. He was pushed into a chair with heavy iron manacles on the arms and legs to secure his wrists and ankles.
"You sit here before us accused of Treason. You hearby give your consent to be interrogated under the influence of the potion Veritaserum?"
"Yes."
One of the Aurors standing guard took the little green vial from the head of the Wizengamot, they tipped his head back and shoved their fingers into his cheeks to force open a mouth that had already voiced his perfect willingness to comply.
"HEY!" Jo snapped. "He said he'd do it! You don't have to force him like a dog you've caught chewing on your slippers! Asshole!"
Ignoring her, the Auror squeezed three drops down Marcus' throat. Veritaserm wasn't infallible, it could be countered by an antidote or someone particularly skilled in Occlumency or if the potion had been tainted or brewed incorrectly. They waited two minutes before resuming the questioning.
"You are Marcus Jaime Flint?"
"Yes."
"You reside with your fiancée Jocelyn Montgomery?" They rattled off the apartment's address. His fingers stretched and strained to caress hers.
"When not at Hogwarts, yes."
Jo dropped to the floor beside his chair, her head angled so he could skim his fingertips through her hair. She threaded her fingers over the arm of the chair to twine with his.
"You did knowingly join the followers of Lord Voldemort AKA Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr.?"
"Yes…" Marcus paused briefly, wondering if he should add "unwillingly." But he decided he didn't want to make it look like he was making excuses or claiming influence of an unforgivable curse.
"Do you understand the charge against you?"
"Yes."
"Do you have anything to say in your defense?"
"I did it because I wasn't presented with a choice. My parents were Death Eaters; they expected me to join them. I stayed at Hogwarts for as long as I could but I was going to end up a Death Eater if I liked it or not. I did my best to stay on their good side for the sake of people I care about and that meant not 'rocking the boat' as Jocelyn likes to say. I did my best to not to hurt, kill or endanger anyone. I will never excuse my actions, for there is no excuse, but I will have it known that I did not then and do not now subscribe to Voldemort's beliefs." He looked at Jo and even the blind could see how completely mad for her he was, how his face changed into something softer, kinder. "My fiancée is a muggle-born woman. She is a Hufflepuff, I am a Slytherin; we should hate each other. We don't. The trait our houses share is loyalty. I am loyal to her. I am loyal to the Slytherpuff Alliance. I am loyal to my students. Despite the mark on my arm, I am not loyal to Voldemort."
"Will you give us names of those who are true Death Eaters?" Amelia Bones asked. Susan Bones was her niece, and she'd heard the stories about a strange alliance between Hufflepuff and Slytherin.
"Yes."
"Very well, all in favor of conviction?"
Approximately a dozen members were not convinced of Marcus' innocence but majority rules. The gavel banged twice, "The accused is acquitted of the charges and is free to go." The manacles released automatically and Marcus leapt to his feet, pulling Jo into his arms and lifting her feet off the ground as he swung her around.
They retreated to the stands to wait for Draco's trial, also conducted under Veritaserum. It would go similarly and he too would be released, but by a narrower majority. His family was too well known, his father had escaped punishment last time by claiming Curse Influence and some members wanted to make an example of him but Amelia Bones was the deciding vote and she voted he too be released; Dumbledore's portrait was very convincing.
XXX
—
December 31st 1998
The day after Jo's Christmas-time wedding to Marcus he tried to keep her from seeing what was written in the Prophet about it.
It had been a lovely wedding, Jo's sister had been a bridesmaid and her brother had been a groomsman. It had been the best day of Marcus' life.
But that's not what Rita Skeeter said.
Somehow, she had found out about the skull and snake scar on his arm.
He had tried to get rid of it. He'd even gone to Leilani's tattoo artist to cover it up but no ink would touch it. So he'd resigned himself to the scar, surrounding it with an abstract sleeve tattoo: splashes of color that swirled up from his wrists and curled up over his shoulders meeting in the middle between his shoulder blades; it disguised the skull and snake scar even if it didn't actually cover it.
She knew and that's what she wrote about. Not Jocelyn's dress or how her mother had cried, but his stupid scar.
"Rita Skeeter, gossip correspondent for the Daily Prophet, had the privilege yesterday of attending one of the most talked about weddings of the year. Jocelyn Montgomery married Marcus Flint, supposed former Death Eater and one of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named's trusted supporters. Why a so-called Champion of Hufflepuff would marry an allegedly 'reformed' Death Eater remains a mystery. Perhaps this Hufflepuff is not what she seems. What do the sleeves of her white gown mask? Another Dark Mark?"
It went on from there. Of course, the article was factually incorrect on several levels. For one, their wedding was actually one of the least talked about. Until now, only a few people had known about the brand on his arm and the wedding party had been small, only Jocelyn's family and friends were invited. Ergo, nothing to talk about, it was just another wedding.
For another, Rita Skeeter had not been invited, and for all appearances, had not been present.
Marcus had no contact with his parents, he wasn't even sure they had survived the war and what cousins he had who were even mostly decent people, he had never known due to their having been disowned. He was on a quest to find them, but his family records were less obvious than the Black's were. The Black Family kept their family tree on the walls, the Flints didn't; so tracking down wayward cousins who didn't want to be found was harder than expected.
He hid the article from Jocelyn because they were supposed to be on their honeymoon and he didn't want to spoil it for her.
Of course, she saw it anyway.
Her exact words were, "She's a bug, and someday, somebody's gonna squish 'er like one." And then she chewed the hell out of him for trying to hide it. "Why did you hide it?" she asked, a touch demandingly.
"I was trying to protect you!" he defended.
"For Merlin's sake, Marcus," she deflated. She was still annoyed, but less so now that she understood what had been going through his brain. She took his face in her hands, "I don't want you to protect me! Watch my back. Fight at my side. Don't try to protect me; I don't need it. It's thinking like that that had you not telling me about being threatened into the Death Eaters."
He'd been floored when she had asked him to marry her. For one thing, he'd betrayed her trust so badly by becoming a Death Eater (not that he had wanted to or had really any choice in it) that he hadn't expected her to ever forgive him or really trust him ever again. For another, he had always planned on his asking her, not the other way around. He loved her, more than anything else in his life and after recovering from the shock, of course he'd said yes.
Leilani and Fred didn't seem to mind that Jo had upstaged their "official" wedding by proposing to him. Leilani, for one, had been ecstatic, there had been quite a lot of squealing and happy shrieking; Marcus swore his ears had rung for a week. She'd hugged him and Fred had shaken his hand and then George had fed him a ton-tongue-toffee.
"And for god's sake, don't call Rita Skeeter up to correct her, it'll only make it worse."
He blinked, that's exactly what he'd been thinking of doing.
XXX
—
(In the interest of credit where credit's due: the wingardium leviosa joke, my records have it posted by tumblr user "Argumate". It's a good joke so I borrowed it.)
May 7th, 1999
Leili sat up in bed, a new baby girl asleep in Fred's arms. She'd gone into labor three weeks earlier than expected. The baby was small, but average for "late preterm babies". She was one of the lucky ones, she breathed and ate well on her own and was only slightly jaundiced; nothing a little filtered sunlight wouldn't cure.
They were trying to name her. Their first daughter: a redhead, like her daddy. He was sitting at Leili's feet rocking the baby slowly as he mulled. "Let's name her Wingardium Leviosa!" He said, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"What? No!" Leili said automatically, and then her curiosity got the better of her, "Why?"
"So that when her teachers call her name, things will go flying around the room."
Leilani laughed, of course that was why. She was pleased that the war hadn't cost Fred his sense of humor. He had a great big grin on his face. "That's brilliant, but no. How about Paige? Maybe she'll be a trickster like you and George and then you can say she's named Paige because she's a page out of your own book."
It was his turn to blink at her, "That's terrible. I love it!"
Leili couldn't help the snort the preceded her chuckle.
They had gotten "officially" married after the end of the war, June 15th. It had been a moderately large affair, in part because Fred had so much family—Aunt Muriel had not been invited. They did not tell their parents that they were already married. They did have a talk with the priest who "married" them to make sure they weren't confusing any legal nonsense by doing it this way. Of course the whole thing was moot when Molly came looking for them and over heard about half the conversation. The shrieking could be heard around the world.
"YOU'RE MARRIED?!" she cried from behind them.
Leili damn near jumped out her skin in surprise, "Merlin and Morgana, don't sneak up on me like that! Jeez!"
"Hi Mum." Fred said guilelessly.
"Don't you 'hi, mum' me, Fred Gideon Weasley! How long have you been married?!"
Leili turned a slight grimace on Fred, "We almost made it."
"November 15th."
"Seven months," she whispered, shocked. Then louder, "SEVEN MONTHS?!"
"At least I'm not pregnant?" Leili offered.
"You're pregnant?" came a surprised voice from behind Molly. Ginny had heard the shouting and come to investigate.
"Shit!" she swore softly while Fred laughed his ass off beside her. "No, Ginny, Ginny come here!" She picked up her skirts and hustled after the sixteen year old before she could start spreading it around. "Ginny! Ginny, come back!" She ended up chasing after her, leaving Fred to deal with his mother.
"Honestly, Mum, it's not a big deal. And if you listened to Potterwatch you'd have known months ago, I proposed to her on-air."
The look on her face had the preacher pressing her gently into a chair before she fainted dead away. "I'm going to have a heart attack..." Molly mused to herself.
At last Leili returned, sister-in-law in tow. She scooped up her skirts and crouched in front of Molly, "Mrs. Weasley, I love your son. Yes, I married your son. Yes I did it in secret because I wanted to know that if I died in the war we would have had at least that much time together and my only regret would have been that we didn't get more. Yes I did not tell you because when we met so much had just happened and we didn't want to add to the burden. We put this sham wedding together for you. For you and for my parents who, yes, also don't know—unless my sister told them and they're keeping it quiet from me. We did it for you guys because we didn't want you to feel as though you had missed something. I promise only Fred and George knew." She conveniently left out the other three people who had been at the original wedding, no sense in making this any worse.
"Oh no, we all knew." Ginny said brightly.
"What?" all three of them asked.
"Percy guessed right away and after seeing you in St. Mungo's, and I remembered seeing your ring when you came to visit the room of requirement! I didn't realize who you were but I heard the Potterwatch proposal. Bill must have known you were dating because Fred brought you to the wedding. That just leaves Ron and Charlie and Dad, they might not know."
Fred was still laughing his head off, even harder now and Leili had to fight to keep a straight face, "I guess we were idiots to try and keep it quiet, huh?"
The preacher cleared his throat, happy to have faded into the background while all this family drama was happening, "Shall we do this, then?"
Fred helped his wife to her feet and kissed her soundly, earning hyperventilation from his mother.
"Look at it this way, Mum," they heard Ginny say. "You can preemptively plan Ron and Hermione's wedding!" This did not make the hyperventilation stop.
As Fred had once promised, everyone was allowed to wear what they wanted. The guests were told not to buy anything special to wear, just pull something out of their closets and show up. Some showed up in t-shirts and jeans and felt silly when the bride walked down the isle in her dress, white lace over satin with a long, flowing skirt dip-dyed in three main colors: yellow at mid-shin that darkened briefly to orange before becoming dark pink and transitioning into purple with just a hint of midnight blue at the edge. They felt a little bit better when the best man wore his quidditch leathers and had the bride dying of laughter. The groom's tie matched her dress, his suit a dark teal that, well at least it didn't clash.
They did their first Husband and Wife dance to "You stole my cauldron" at Fred's request and she nearly died laughing because she'd sung it in the car the day she realized she loved him. She danced with all his siblings, some twice. Ginny had the pleasure of a Polka as did Bill, Percy got a Waltz to "Andante, Andante" and she didn't cry, no not even a little bit, that's sweat you see on her cheeks, not tears thankyouverymuch. She danced with Charlie and she had to remind Ron how to waltz because he was so stiff they might as well have not been movie, much to Hermione's amusement. George led her in something exhausting and it was a beautiful evening.
They spent their honeymoon in Hawaii, swimming with dolphins, picnic-ing on the beach (they did not have sex on the beach because that's how you get arrested for public indecency and besides, sand.) and just enjoying being able to breathe without the threat of hell on earth hanging over their heads all the time. Now here they were, eight months later with a relatively unexpected addition.
"Paige Weasley," Fred mused, "Middle name?"
"She was born at dawn so Aurora? Paige Aurora Weasley," Leili offered.
XXX
—
Dec. 1st, 1999
Jo lay back against her pillows, her firstborn swaddled in a blanket and propped upright in her lap. Amanda Jane Flint. She had her daddy's pitch dark hair and her Aunty Jillian's artic blue eyes. She had her mommy's dimples, though. Jo ran her fingertips over Amanda's hair; she was a month old yesterday, born on Jo's favorite holiday, Halloween.
"I could fit the whole world in my palms right now," Marcus said reverently.
"That is literally impossible, you do know that right?" Jo replied archly.
Marcus wrapped one hand around Jo's chin and the other around the back of their daughter's head, "Are you sure?"
Jo rolled her eyes and smiled, "I'm not sure if I want to kiss you or throw you off a bridge."
"Can I pick?"
She kissed him.
XXX
—
December 1999
Over the winter break, Headmistress McGonagall re-placed the Defense Against the Dark Arts want-ad in the Daily Prophet.
A week after placing the ad, Minerva got an unexpected visitor to her office. Harry Potter.
McGonagall was pleased to see Harry; this job would normalize his life, just as it had done for Marcus, if not even more so. It wouldn't be fair to the other applicants if she hired Harry without the formality of an interview, but she knew when he walked in the door that between his personal experiences with the dark arts and his Auror training, he was the perfect fit for the job.
So they went over the kinds of things he would teach his students, year by year. She found that he tackled the curriculum much as Professor Lupin had, with some minor, but notable, influences from his year of being taught by Barty Crouch JR, in the guise of Auror Moody, as well as his year teaching his fellow students in the Room of Requirement.
She asked why he was leaving the Aurors. He told her that while being an Auror was worthwhile, it didn't make him happy. When he had met Moody the first time, being an Auror seemed like the best way to both capitalize on and escape the fame that had been thrust upon him at a year old. But now, having done the training and been on the job, he found that it just didn't fit.
He could do the job.
He could be good at the job.
But the job wasn't good for him.
After spending more than seven years as the object of a Dark Wizard's attention, one year getting into that Wizard's twisted mind, another year of training and 6 months of actual Auror work, he found it was a feeling he didn't want to return to.
Professor Merrythought would finish out the year with her students and retire in September, allowing Harry to take her seat.
XXX
—
YEAR INDETERMINATE
As an Auror in the Magizoology office, Jo hunted down people mistreating magical animals, most of the time it was something like a puffskein puppy mill or someone raising fire crabs and killing them for the jewels on their shells but sometimes she'd get to travel to new and exotic places.
For those trips she'd pack Amanda up, stick her in a Baby Backpack—"Muggle invention, all the rage these days for hands free baby carrying," she'd tell people, fighting the urge to roll her eyes—and, assuming Marcus wasn't working, the three of them would go off on a grand adventure that at one point or another saw Jo arresting someone.
They got to see new places and introduce Amanda to all sorts of animals; they even met a young Graphorn. Amanda had gone stock still at first sight but warmed up to the creature when it tickled her face with its mouth tentacles. More craft minded than her sister, Jillian made her niece a stuffed animal Graphorn just the right size for cuddles.
They took so many photos, partly because Marcus had never really had family photos before, not like this, so he wanted to capture every single moment. When Marcus did have to work, Jo and Amanda went on their own adventures and Artemis took the photos back to Marcus when they were within flying distance, otherwise Jo attached them to self-timed port-keys that frequently landed in the mashed potato bowl at feast time. It wasn't always potato; sometimes it was yams or something equally messy and Marcus always wrote to tell her what her photos had landed in. There was one time Peeves stole the letter and the photos and Marcus had to chase him down to get them back—she was still laughing at that one.
Jo missed him when they were apart like this but she was glad to spend the time with her daughter. If Amanda was destined to be an only child, it wasn't for her parents' lack of trying. Jo was of the opinion that reunion sex was the best.
XXX
—
2000
Waiting at a counter of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, picking up Paige before the shop got too busy, Leili picked up a Daily Prophet open to the gossip page.
"Oh! Oh ew!" she cried in horror and disgust.
"What is it?" Fred asked.
Wordlessly she handed him the paper.
He read, "Rita Skeeter, gossip correspondent, has it on good authority that celebrated wand maker Ollivander's assistant Leilani Akina-Weasley has been hiding her husband's death at the hands of Death Eaters for two years. My source confides she has done this with the help of George Weasley, brother to the Late Fred Weasley, co-founder of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Sources close to the family say that in public, Fred is nothing more than a well crafted illusion spell and in private, the witch has kept up appearances by having children with her late boyfriend's twin brother."
"Why Leilani, I never knew!" Fred quipped with a teasing grin.
"I am gonna jinx that woman from here to high heaven!" She seethed. "Where does she get off on saying that?!"
Little Paige came toddling into the room, drawn by the sound of her mother's fury. "Mumma?" She asked.
Fred scooped her up and together they descended on Leili with hugs and kisses and blown raspberries. "Furthermore," the article continued, "it is the belief of this writer that daughter Paige Weasley is not only George's illegitimate child but also a squib!"
"Paige is two years old, you wing-nut!" Leili growled at the paper.
Fred finished the paragraph, "It is unknown how Angelina Johnson-Weasley is taking the news."
"Probably better than me," Leili remarked. "Alright, we gotta go. We'll see you tonight."
Fred gave her a peck on the lips and blew a raspberry on Paige's cheek.
"You ready to go see Amanda?" Leili asked. Jo's daughter was almost 6 months younger than Paige so they played together a lot. They were thick as thieves and just as trick minded as Fred and George, which made them great friends of Teddy Lupin. Teddy had proclaimed the little girls as his little sisters and Harry was pretty sure they three would be the next Marauders.
Look out Hogwarts, here they come, brave, intrepid, and then some.
XXX
—
Ollivander
2001
That morning, the newspapers read: The Wizarding World woke up to a shock today, with the news that famed wand maker Garrick Ollivander died last night at the age of 93. Ollivander has been the leading wand maker since his appearance on the scene in the early 20th century. He was predeceased by a wife and daughter and is survived by apprentice Leilani Akina-Weasley. It is widely believed that the 22 year old will inherit the business. A funeral will be held tomorrow at 11 o'clock in Diagon Alley.
"Most unfortunate," a woman said, as she finished reading the obituary. "Most unfortunate. And at 93 no less! Why he was still quite young! Quite young."
"I'm afraid Mr. Ollivander never fully recovered from the treatments of the war. He was held captive for a year, after all. A year at the hands of You-Know-Who, it's a miracle he survived," the woman's companion added. "Have you met the new girl?"
"No, but my brother has; his son is starting school in September, they said she was very nice. My nephew liked her, asked her if she knew Harry Potter!" They laughed. "That man is his hero, practically worships him. Asks everybody he meets if they knew the Boy Who Lived. He couldn't stop talking about it when she said that she did, in fact, know Mr. Potter. Told him that Mr. Potter had bought his first wand from that very shop, from Mr. Ollivander himself! Said she was married to Mr. Potter's brother-in-law. She made that little boy's day."
XXX
—
September 2001ish
Marcus had been promoted to Head of Slytherin House, he'd tried to protest that he wasn't worthy but Headmistress McGonagall had just fixed him with a pursed lip stare over the rims of her glasses. It had shut him up pretty quickly.
It was the beginning of a new term and the Feast had just ended. He considered giving some sort of "Welcome to Slytherin!" speech to the new kids but decided against it. He wasn't a speech person.
He was making rounds through the common room before heading off to his own bed when he heard it. He followed the sound of tears and came across a newly sorted boy sobbing his little heart out in a corner.
A seventh year girl met him partway there, "I've tried getting him to cheer up, but he doesn't want anything to do with me. He just cries harder."
"I'll take care of it, thank you, Emily. You'll get your new buddy this week, are you ready?"
Emily beamed, "So ready!"
He smiled back, a rare occurrence when he was her age but a much more common one now. "Off with you now. Go on, go study something."
"It's the first day of school!"
"All the more reason you should study something," he teased.
She huffed and stuck her tongue out at him before scampering off to her dorm.
He shook his head, both at her and at himself—thank god all the time turners had been destroyed and he didn't have to worry about his school aged self skipping into the future; he'd give himself a heart attack and then Amanda wouldn't exist.
With a groan, Marcus sat himself down across from the firstie. He didn't say anything.
Eventually the kid looked up and demanded, "Go Away!"
"I could do that, sure. I'd be derelict in my duties as your head of house, but I could do that." He made a big show of getting up—he had a two year old at home so his drama was still amped up to about 11.
"What's… der…deralicked?"
Marcus paused, "Derelict: shamefully neglectful." Jocelyn teased him about his vocabulary, but he couldn't live with her and not pick up some things.
"The other kids hate me now. I only just got here and they already hate me all because I was sorted into stupid Slytherin!"
"They don't hate you; they don't know you. Do you want to know why you were sorted into Slytherin? Because you value cunning, and you probably have ambitions and you will use your brain to get what you want. You will strive to be the best you can be and you will watch the world burn to save someone who belongs to you. …I helped set fire to the world to protect my wife and she nearly killed me for it. The other students may make us out to be villains but we have more in common with them than they realize. Later this week, after I get to know you a little better, I'm going to introduce you to someone, someone to help you adjust to life here. I promise they will not hate you, or think you're evil. Ok? Now, go get some sleep." He tousled the boy's hair and headed off to his own bed.
At the end of the week, he gathered the first and seventh year students to the room of requirement while Professor Sprout, still going strong as Hufflepuff's Head, brought the same year Hufflepuffs. Seventh year Slytherins were paired with first year Hufflepuffs and second year Hufflepuffs were paired with first year Slytherins.
When the seventh year student graduated, their buddy was re-paired the following year and so on and so forth. This was the system he and Jocelyn and Leilani had devised that day in the Three Broomsticks and it worked pretty well.
In the early days it had been the three of them who paired the buddies, and as they prepared to graduate they passed the baton to the head boys and girls but that hadn't always worked 100%. After the Alliance became a more open secret, Marcus had taken back the reigns. His first year of teaching he'd paired them by himself but found it easier to include Professor Sprout in the process.
He'd been shocked to learn that she had only the faintest knowledge of the Alliance—mainly that it existed. She had wondered more than once about the sudden influx of Slytherin-Hufflepuff friendships but didn't realize there was an official buddy system going on behind the scenes.
Marcus cleared his throat, "Welcome to the Slytherpuff Alliance. Some of you know how this works, some of you don't. Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, meet your new best friends. We have some suggested pairings but you don't have to stay where we put you. We don't have an even number of students so there will be a bit of doubling up."
Professor Sprout called out names and the new buddies formed little groups. There was the occasional switching when someone knew that this first year would really be better off with that person. The 11 year old was shuffled over to their new-new buddy and the 17 year old was free to align with someone else.
"Professor Flint!" the no longer crying firstie called, running up, dragging a seventh year Hufflepuff behind him. "This is Fern! She likes all the same things I do! And she doesn't think I'm evil!" His face and voice were full of rapturous wonder while Fern looked only slightly embarrassed.
"Welcome to the Alliance, Kevin."
XXX
—
(I got the idea for this from a picture I found by artofpan on tumblr, The original post was by the-evil-twin and autisticsimon.)
December 2003
When Paige was four years old, at Christmas her Gramma Molly presented Uncle George and Aunt Ginny with her traditional Weasley Sweater. (Guaranteed to be warm and cozy, best paired with tea and biscuits. A sure-fire pick-me-up when you're feeling blue. Patent Pending.)
As they pulled on the soft wool, the family fell into peals of laughter. George's sweater stopped half-way down his chest! And Ginny's nearly reached her knees! George struck a pose while his mom snapped a quick picture with the camera she had been gifted.
Ginny pulled off the too big sweater and held it out to her brother, but George grinned at her and said, "I wear it better, and you know it."
"Oh, George!" Molly said with a grin.
That year, Paige's family grew by two. Fred and Leilani welcomed twins, Pele Annabelle with trademark Weasley red hair and a boy who was born, as his mother had been, with downy gold-blonde hair. They named him Leolani George, Leo for short.
XXX
—
2004
It was family dinner day with the Weasley clan. It would also go down in Weasley Family History as the day the 'no cell phones at the table' rule was introduced. Arthur, against his wife's better judgment, had recently procured a new Motorola Razr.
He loved it. He was baffled by it to be sure and was constantly coming to the kids for help with his new contraption.
Not-so-secretly and almost immediately after getting it, he had taken it apart. "Just to see how it works, Molly-dear!"
Molly, of course, didn't buy that for a second, he'd said the same thing about that car and the next thing she'd known, three of their children had flown it to Surrey and back!
XXX
—
2008
The v-necked top Jo wore revealed part of a long, jagged edged white scar. Amanda was 9 when she asked about it, "Mom? How'd that happen?"
Jo rubbed at the scar, as though if she rubbed it hard enough it might go away. "I was about 15 and Hogwarts hosted something called the Triwizard Tournament—it was a big contest with three parts meant to be played by three students from different schools—and the third event was a maze the champions had to go through to reach a trophy hidden somewhere in the middle. This Tournament was different from previous tournaments by one simple fact: someone had rigged the judge, the Goblet of Fire, to allow a fourth champion to compete. You know who the fourth student was?"
"You?" Amanda guessed.
"I'm flattered!" Jo laughed. "Try again."
Amanda thought about it for a minute, trying to remember all the stories her parents had told her over the years. It came to her, "Uncle Harry."
"Yes ma'am! The Boy Who Lived himself, and as usual, someone was trying to kill him. Your Aunt Leili and I were watching with the rest of the school when I had a stroke of what could probably be called either bravery or extreme stupidity and I summoned the trophy. I realized after I had done it that while I had stopped Harry and Cedric from falling into whatever trap the cup would drop them into, that trap was now hurtling towards us.
"Turned out, the cup was a portkey and we were transported to a graveyard in Little Hangleton, Yorkshire. We found ourselves surrounded by Death Eaters, one of them cut open my arm," she rolled up her sleeve to show her daughter the fine white scar, "and used the blood he collected, as well as the bones from the grave I standing on and the dude's friggin hand, his whole hand that he cut off at the wrist, to revive Voldemort, the darkest wizard of our time."
Amanda's eyes grew big and round as her mother detailed the drama of her youth.
"When we tried to escape, I was caught by a severing spell and Leili was thrown into a headstone. That's what caused the scar, the severing spell. If I had been alone, I probably would have died, but Leili saved us. When we got back to the school your dad pounced on the death eater—masquerading as a teacher—who had rigged the judge and the trophy. Beat him bloody."
Amy laughed, "Go Dad!"
Marcus came around the corner and kissed the top of her head. Her hair was still dark but her eyes had turned hazel before her first birthday. Around his right wrist he wore a roughly braided friendship bracelet Amanda had made when she was seven. "What are we talking about?"
"The time you pummeled a Death Eater, rescuing Mom and Aunt Leili from Certain Death!"
"Bu-bu-bu-bum! Woooooo~!" Jo imitated The Labyrinth's False Alarms.
XXX
—
Sept. 1st, 2010
"Here we are, King's Cross Station, platform 9 ¾," Leili said, trying not to show her daughter, now 11, how much she was going to miss her. She didn't want to embarrass her unnecessarily.
Pele and Leo, now 7, were holding hands and trying not to cry. They were so used to having Paige and Amanda around, the house was going to feel awfully empty without them. Dark haired Amanda noticed how down the twins seemed and nudged her best friend with her elbow.
Paige wrapped the twins in a great big hug and promised, "Soon as we get settled I'll steal a Hogwarts toilet seat and send it back to you. Ok?"
Fred began to howl with laughter. It was the exact thing he and George had offered to do for Ginny. Their mother, however, had frowned upon the idea.
Grinning like fiends, the twins nodded enthusiastically. Paige glanced at her mother who simply said, "If you can figure out how to get it home, without getting caught, I won't stop you."
"Really?!" Paige gasped and suddenly a whole world of tricks opened before her.
"I'm sure your dad can give you a few suggestions," Leili suggested with a wicked smile and a glance at her husband.
Fred wiped a tear from his eye; he couldn't wait to tell George about this.
Jo leaned over to Marcus, hand out, "You owe me twenty. Pay up."
Marcus rolled his eyes and passed over the Muggle money. They'd been betting on their daughter and adopted niece since Leilani had introduced the girls as babies.
XXX
—
September, 2010
Paige and Amanda sat down in their first DADA class. Amanda was expecting her dad to walk through the door but instead it was Paige's Uncle Harry.
Headmistress McGonagall had decided that it would be best for Marcus not to teach his daughter's class, to avoid any whisper of favoritism which would hurt both him and Amanda, so even though it was Marcus' turn to teach the first years, he and Harry switched time tables for this hour.
Harry walked in wearing one of Mrs. Weasley's sweaters and the whispers started. He smiled as he came around and leaned on the front of his desk, not unlike Dumbledore had done as a young professor.
He used to hate the stares and the whispers but he found now he kind of enjoyed it. He sipped a cup of tea as he waited for the whispers to stop. It helped that the whispers were well intended now, where they hadn't always been before.
"Got that out of your systems? Brilliant."
Someone in the back raised a hand.
"Yeah?"
"Are you really married to the Harpies' Weasley?!"
"Weasley?" someone else whispered. "Like Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"
He grinned, not many eleven year olds made the connection between Quidditch and sweets. "Yes, I am Harry Potter, yes I am married to Ginny Weasely of the Harpies. And yes, I can get free sweets at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." The latter was something he only took advantage of when teaching Patronuses. Otherwise, he paid for everything. "And yes, I am Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived and Chosen One who defeated the dark wizard Voldemort. And yes, I am your Professor."
Paige waved at him, not a big wave, a small one, just to say hello. He raised his mug and nodded to her and to Amanda. Amanda looked vaguely relieved, though he couldn't say if it was because he didn't make a big deal over knowing her or if it was simply that she was glad she wasn't in her dad's class.
—
XXX
Summer 2010
When Paige and Amanda returned home for summer they taught Paige's Muggle grandma how to play quidditch. Between all of them they had almost enough players since someone (Leilani) had to sit behind Grandma on the broom. Over the summer they brought in various cousins to play the missing spot.
XXX
—
2014
Three years before Albus Potter came to Hogwarts, Pele and Leo began their first year at school. They watched his brother navigate the hallways and stuck like little mismatched burrs to Paige and Amanda who would let the twins help with pranks; like the day they rolled a homemade glue-bomb across the floor of the most traveled hallway and watched as people took two steps and promply walked out of first their shoes, then their socks before coming to an abrupt halt or face planting entierly as they lost their balance.
Ok, I finally found my lost thread on cursed child. I've completed it and uploaded it as a whole in a new chapter.