Harry and Ethan weren't on the best of terms the following morning. Ethan was still annoyed that Harry didn't bother talking to him properly the previous night. It was just silence at first then just plain ignoring each other. Midas noticed it and immediately set them straight before leaving them alone in the house. Their guardian was a bit reluctant to do so at first for fear that they were still at odds with each other. Harry assured their guardian that everything was ok. Their guardian looked dubious but relented and left anyway.

"I'm still waiting for an apology," Ethan remarked as they watched the green flames die out.

"Not a chance," Harry answered with a huff. Ethan just laughed at him.

"I'm gonna watch some t.v." Ethan declared, jumping on one of the sofas, remote in hand. "This better have cable."

"Whatever," Harry muttered under his breath. He didn't care much for muggle shows. He didn't care much for the telly at all. "I'm going to my room. If you need something, just call Porthos." Harry exited the living room and ran up the stairs to his bedroom. He immediately noticed Seraphim and Hedwig were both on his bed staring at each other.

"Bossman oi!" Harry heard Seraphim say.

"Not now, Seraphim." Harry answered in English as he sat down by his desk. He couldn't be bothered to answer in Parseltongue.

Harry wondered when he should give the letter to his cousin. He thought that the preferable time was when he could be arsed to do so. He was still a bit cross that the old man tasked him to deliver the letter personally. It was odd and it was annoying. The Headmaster could have had any school staff deliver it to Dudley yet the old man chose him.

"Harry, Harry, Harry." Harry frowned but refrained from snapping when his brother barged in the bedroom without heed.

"What?"

"Someone's looking for you," said Ethan. "Says he's your friend."

Harry frowned. He didn't have friends nearby Privet Drive. "It's not Theo?" he questioned.

"Nope…just some other kid." Harry sighed. He had a good idea who it was.

"Where is he?"

"In the living room, I think. I let him in and ran up here."

Harry slightly growled. "How many times have Midas told us not to let people we don't know inside the house?" he asked, a bit annoyed at his brother's apparent little regard for their safety.

"He didn't look evil," Ethan answered by way of explanation.

"Fine, whatever, I'll be right down."

"Ok!" Ethan beamed and ran out of the room.

"Calvert, what a pleasant surprise." Harry greeted Mark as he entered the living room, taking a seat by the window afterwards. Mark was smiling as always.

"Hey, Harry." Mark greeted with a smile before turning to Ethan saying "I didn't expect your little brother to be American."

"The name is 'Ethan'," Ethan said. "And it's really just the accent."

"Mark Calvert, nice to meet you." Mark shook hands with Ethan and beamed. It was quite unnerving for Harry to see someone who would smile too much.

"Is there something you need, Mark?" he asked.

"Uh...no..." Mark chuckled a bit sheepishly. "Actually, I'm here to say that now I know why you told me not to think of a letter sent to me as a joke." Harry then remembered his warning to Mark about the Hogwarts letter.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Mark. "Do you, now?"

"Yeah," replied Mark before clearing his throat. "It went like, Dear Mr. Calvert we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"You're like us too!" exclaimed Ethan.

"Yes, I'm like you two." answered Mark with a very pleased air. "I've always known that I was different than others here."

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised," he said, reaching over to get the remote. Ethan scowled when he turned off the telly.

"A teacher came with the letter," Mark stated. "She said she's the deputy Headmistress."

"Professor McGonagall." Mark nodded at the name.

"Dumbledore's the one who gave Harry his letter," Ethan boasted.

"Professor Dumbledore, Ethan," he corrected his brother.

"Professor McGonagall told me that you're the twin of Lawrence Potter," added Mark.

"Did she now?" he responded.

"Yes she did." Mark stopped for a moment and looked thoughtful. "I've read the books, your brother is Lawrence Charlus Potter, parents are James and Lily Potter but she got killed by this Dark Lord, and I have no idea what happened to your father."

"And?"

"Ethan wasn't mentioned." Mark said, looking at Ethan. "So most probably, he's your adoptive brother."

"That he is," he replied, quite impressed at the boy.

"And damn proud of it," added Ethan, grinning. "So, know the subjects in school?"

"Yes, I've read some bits on Astronomy and Charms." replied Mark. "So far, I think I like Astronomy, I mean I've always liked Astronomy. Transfiguration doesn't sound too bad either. Professor McGonagall said she's the one teaching it."

"She told you about all the teachers?" Ethan fired another question.

"Well not really, I didn't ask her who my teachers are although," Mark paused, "she did tell me that Harry is the potions teacher's assistant."

"Really," Harry drawled in a bored tone, "I'm sure she told you a lot of great things about me." Harry didn't know if the boy noticed that he was being sarcastic or the boy just opted to ignore it and continue to talk.

"Harold Evandrus, one of the two youngest seekers in a century, potions genius, top of your class, twin brother of the boy-who-lived-"

"Yes, I get your point," he interrupted impatiently, "Professor McGonagall told you things about me."

"Well, I did ask," Mark pointed out. "She also said you're in Slytherin house."

"What house d'you want, pal?" Ethan asked. "I think I wanna be a Gryffindor or a Slytherin."

"Anywhere's fine really," Mark said with a shrug, "but think I want to be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin."

"Yeah, you in Slytherin," Ethan chuckled. "Not really sure you'd qualify..…Ravenclaw, you do.."

Mark furrowed his brow. "How so?"

"'coz you're a muggleborn, pal," Ethan said as if it were a reason enough, which it was for many wizards who grew up hearing about the four houses. "I don't think Slytherin house accept muggleborns. I want to be in Slytherin 'coz I know Harry's there, but I don't think a muggleborn like me will be sorted there."

"Why not?"

"Because muggleborns don't get sorted in Slytherin."

"Why?"

"It's the house of purebloods or at the very least, half-bloods," answered Harry, despite knowing that Salazar Slytherin didn't care much about blood status at all, according to Secundus.

"Not everyone likes people in Slytherin either," Ethan added. "Some idiots think that all those who get sorted in Slytherin are evil."

"That sounds stupid," commented Mark. "You don't get to see if a child is evil at age eleven."

"Hang on, does blood, I mean pureblood, half blood or whatever matter that much in the school?"

"Yes," Harry answered at the same time his brother said "no." Ethan glared at him for answering affirmatively.

"It doesn't matter what your blood is," Ethan said firmly, eyes still fixed on him.

"Believe it or not, it does matter," he said equally firm to his brother. "The entirety of the wizarding world still looks down on muggleborns, not so much on halfbloods considering that some halfbloods still come from prominent wizarding families."

"That sounds so medieval!" exclaimed Mark. "It's like, you know, separating commoners from nobles, the lower class from the upper class. It's discrimination."

"That's the way it is."

"Which group do you two belong then?"

"I'm a half-blood, sort of," he answered, a bit unsure if he should use the new term. "Ethan, as stated, is a muggleborn like you." Back then, Harry didn't know for sure if Ethan was a muggleborn. However, when they went to Gringott's and had the boy blood-tested, they discovered that Ethan wasn't connected with any Wizarding families that were on Gringott's records.

"How can you be 'sort of' a half-blood'," Mark questioned.

"Well," Harry furrowed his brow, "according to my friend those wizards whose parents are both magical, though one or both aren't purebloods, are now referred to as first-generation purebloods."

"That really made me feel a whole lot better about my standing in wizarding society," Mark said drily.

"You're not the only one, pal," agreed Ethan.

"Oh please," Harry rolled his eyes, "don't be such self-pitying nitwits. It's very unbecoming of a person. You two don't like your standing in society, strive so you wouldn't stay on lower standing." He turned to Ethan, "You have an advantage over Mark and you know it."

"What advantage?" asked Ethan, blinking and genuinely puzzled.

"Me," he said smugly.

The younger ones frowned at him. "What's so special about you?" asked Mark.

"To sum it up? I'm special because I'm me." The two clearly didn't like the way he said it. Harry smirked at the two's ire.

"I'm Harold Severin Evandrus, one of the most brilliant wizards of the age and I'm your brother." After the pause, Harry added "Among other things."

"I see. I get what you mean." Mark looked enlightened. "You're also part of the known families you were speaking about but only by blood. The thing is, Evandrus, you don't belong in the House of Potter anymore. You're not officially of your father's line. And I think that's more –what was the phrase frequently used in those Austen-esque period dramas? Oh yes, disgraceful." Harry smirked. The boy was trying to get him off his high horse. It didn't escape his notice that Mark looked angered by the fact that Harry seemed to imply that even he stood on lower ground than Ethan.

"Nice try, Calvert," Harry told the boy with a smirk. The boy gave him a perplexed look and then a scowl. "I'm the heir of the House of Black, one of the oldest and most prominent pureblood households in the wizarding world. That actually means more than being part of my father's line. The House of Potter is…relatively young compared to the House of Black. And to top of that -"

"Are we done playing Lineage now?" Ethan's annoyed voice actually took Harry's attention off of riling Mark. "What's your problem, Harry?"

"Nothing," he answered with a small smile before turning to Mark, "word of advice, don't let it affect you. Whatever society will say to you, don't be affected. Not what I say, not what your bigoted pureblooded would-be classmates would say to you. Both of you, don't ever show them that you're affected when they insult your blood status."

"That's easy for you to say, Harry," Mark said contemptuously. "You're not like us."

"You're right, it is easy for me to say," he said, "but it's not because of that. It's because I rarely care when people throw insults at me. Directed to my mother, however, I care greatly. I'm not belittling you both for being muggleborns. My mother was one and she was more brilliant than purebloods combined. If you two show that you're affected, they'll pick on you more. Believe me."

"Hmm….I should probably tell that to Dudley as well," he said thoughtfully, deliberately out loud.

"Wait what?" Mark exclaimed. "That fat oaf's a wizard to?" Harry kept a smirk. He knew Mark would react in such a way if Dudley's status of being a wizard was mentioned.

"Not until last October, no," he answered innocently.

"So he is." Mark concluded with a frown. "Here I thought I wouldn't see that fat oaf's face."

"Wait, wait, I don't follow," Ethan said, shaking his head. "Who saw what, and why and where?" Harry rolled his eyes at his brother's expression.

"Professor Dumbledore gave me a letter for Dudley Dursley," he informed the two. "He showed signs of magic sometime in October and by January this year his magic became enough for him to earn a place in Hogwarts."

"Ok, that I get," said Ethan," but why are you Mr. Postman? Shouldn't a teacher do that?"

"Ask Professor Dumbledore that," he said, his eye twitching slightly. "Anyway, you're going with me there tomorrow, so I'll introduce you to them."

"Is he going to be in our year?" Mark asked, looking hopeful that Dudley will not be in their year.

"Yes, he will be," He said nonchalantly, though quite unsurely. He didn't really know which year Dudley would be placed in, but considering that he was late, he might be in Ethan's year, but considering his age, he might be in their year.

"Is it too late to refuse going to Hogwarts now?" Mark asked with a groan.

"Why don't you like him?" Ethan asked curiously.

"Want me to make you a list?" Mark asked with a sardonic tone before shaking his head. "He's a fat flatulent git like George IV. He pushes everybody around! I still remember him pushing some chap around who looks like Harry."

"Red highlights Harry look alike?" Ethan questioned. When Mark nodded in confirmation, Ethan said "That was Lars Potter."

Mark gawked. "Seriously!?" the boy exclaimed. "I have seen Lawrence Potter! The vanquisher of Lord Voldemort." Harry was surprised at Mark saying the Dark Lord's name out loud. Either the boy was unaware of the people's fear in the name or that he just didn't care.

"Sticky note, pal, people get all loco when you say Voldemort," Ethan said to Mark.

"Loco?" Mark asked in confusion.

"Freaked out," Ethan clarified. "People ain't a fan of hearing evil overlord dude's name." Harry was slightly incredulous at hearing Ethan refer to Voldemort as evil overlord. The boy clearly had been in communication with Theodore.

"It's just a name," Mark said, rolling his eyes. "Why are they scared of it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ethan said, taking up a sarcastic tone, "maybe because the Voldemort dude is the one who started the second freakin' wizarding war, killed and tortured a lot of people, and a bloodthirsty megalomaniac? Take your pick."

Mark rolled his eyes again. "It's still stupid," the boy insisted, "Fear of the name only increases the fear of the thing itself. Not to mention that you boost his ego by doing that."

"I know that pal," Ethan sounded a bit exasperated, "I'm just saying it's just to be, you know, considerate because people don't like others saying the name."

"It's to be considerate for people who are daft enough to fear a name," Mark said snidely.

"You can't blame them for fearing it."

"Of course," Mark agreed in a mocking way, "I can't blame them for being stupid."

"Alright enough., Harry said sternly. It won't do at all if the two would into an argument. It was just their first meeting. "Mark is right, it's stupid to fear the name, but do remember that it's more stupid not to fear the person. Fear of the person and the fear of a person's name are two different things."

"I'm just saying that we should be considerate to other people," Harry heard Ethan mutter.

"Yes, we got that part Ethan," he said calmly. "Anyway, Ethan you're also right, we should be considerate. It's impolite to keep saying the name when majority of the people don't like it." he turned to the other boy with a stern look. "Mark Calvert, do heed my brother's word, be a bit considerate to those who don't like the mention of the name unless you have convinced them that there's nothing wrong with the mention of it. Got it?" The two younger boys nodded at what he had said.

"Good, just follow my advice and you'll survive Hogwarts."

"You don't believe in that blood purity, superiority whatnot, do you?" Mark asked with wary eyes.

Harry looked at the boy and shook his head. "I don't," he answered honestly. He was a hypocrite but not that much of a hypocrite. He somewhat believed in wizard supremacy, but never blood supremacy. "I'll go back to my room. If you two need anything-"

"Call Porthos, ok." Harry frowned at Ethan but left for his room anyway. He heard Mark ask who Porthos was as soon as he'd left. It was followed by a brief scream.

Harry sighed deeply as soon as he got to his room. Finally, he thought, some peace, quiet, and alone time with only himself for company. He spent his time reading and also writing to Philip. He'd almost forgotten about sending Philip the details for the patent.

Mark was still present in the house until it was around eight in the evening, playing with Ethan using some game console that Philip bought. Harry sighed again. Midas would flay them both for what the electric bill would be for the month if day in and day out all Ethan and Mark was going to do was play the blasted videogame console for the next few days.

A day later, as they had talked about, Harry and Ethan visited his aunt and uncle who were delighted to see him, but Dudley wasn't in the house that time. They were greeted warmly by the couple though they were surprised to gain the knowledge that Ethan was his adopted brother. After telling them what they needed to know about Ethan, Harry told his Aunt and Uncle about Dudley's letter. They were surprised to say the least but nonetheless pleased. Harry wanted to wait for Dudley and then tell him then and there about the letter but Aunt Petunia insisted that they surprise Dudley, wanting it to be an early birthday present. He wanted to argue because he really didn't want to wait and be the patient Mr. Postman anymore but out of respect to his aunt and uncle, he didn't, instead he just acquiesced.

"Alright Ethan, are you dressed?" Harry called up to his brother to see if the said brother was ready to go whilst he was busy with making Seraphim comfortable around his arm with a camouflage on. Really, he didn't want to bring along Seraphim to dinner, the people might freak out but he didn't want to leave him in the house alone either. And besides, how bad could it be? No one would see the snake anyway.

A minute later, Ethan went down looking smart and presentable. Harry motioned for him to follow, which his brother did. He took an umbrella from the stand, considering that it was raining and then went on to their relatives' house with Ethan carrying a bottle of grape juice.

Ethan rang the doorbell and a moment later it was opened by a fat woman. The woman resembled uncle Vernon for a bit, in Harry's opinion. She was large, beefy and a bit purple-faced. Her hair was shoulder length blonde. Harry shook his head when he realised that he was staring, a bit.

Harry cleared his throat, and then formally introduced himself. "Good Evening," he began politely. "I'm Harold Evandrus and this is my brother Ethan."

"Ah, Petunia's nephews are you?" she enquired with a gruff voice. "Well come in then." Harry bowed his head politely at the woman whom they still didn't know the name before gesturing for Ethan to get inside first whilst he folded the umbrella.

"I'm Marjorie Dursley," the woman said when they got in, "Vernon's sister."

"Pleased to meet you," he said, shaking her calloused hand. Ethan did the same and the woman smiled at them. She led them inside the dining room where Uncle Vernon and Dudley were already at whilst Aunt Petunia was preparing the food. Harry told his brother to give the bottle to Aunt Petunia. Ethan looked at him in protest first before complying.

"Good Evening, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley," he said with a polite smile, shaking the hand of his uncle before taking his seat. Ethan did the same after giving the bottle to aunt Petunia.

"Where are your parents, boy?" Ms. Dursley asked him. Harry felt a vein popping on the side of his forehead at being called 'boy'. Normally, after people called him 'boy' it would be followed by 'freak' and a knuckle sandwich just for the heck of it. Or at least that was how it was when he was in the orphanage.

"They have passed away," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

"A pity," Ms. Dursley said, shaking her overly fat head. They were silent for a moment, apart from Ethan who introduced himself to Dudley, until Aunt Petunia finished serving the food and they started eating.

"So Harry," Uncle Vernon began, "you have something to give Dudley, yes?"

"Yes sir." Harry replied, "but I was hoping, in fact I was thinking that it should be done more privately." he spared a glance at Ms. Dursley who was waving a hand in dismissal whilst drinking a goblet of wine.

"I know about it." Harry couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at what Ms. Dursley said. "Hocus Pocus school is it?" Harry blinked at her description of Hogwarts. Hocus Pocus, seriously?

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he informed her quite crisply.

"Yes that one," she said dismissively, "Vernon had already told me about it." Harry's eyes slightly narrowed at his uncle and Marge.

Harry leant forward a little, looking a bit conspiratorial. "I must tell you all that muggles are forbidden to know about the Wizarding world," he informed them with caution, making sure that some sort of underlying threat was in his tone. "There's this thing called the International Statute of Secrecy.The parents and immediate family of a muggleborn student excluded, of course."

"Not to worry Harry," Aunt Petunia said lightly. "The Dursleys have had a muggleborn wizard before in Hogwarts, when was it Vern?" Harry leant back at hearing that, wanting to know more information.

Uncle Vernon waved a hand. "It was decades ago." Harry got truly intrigued by that so he asked how many decades ago was it. He went numb for a minute when uncle Vernon told him that it was fifty years ago or so and their relative died in the school during a freak accident. Fifty years ago, the only person who died there was murdered and the excuse that they gave was it was due to a freak accident. Even better was when Ms. Dursley said that the name of the girl was Myrtle Ann Dursley.

"I see," he said quietly before turning the subject back to Dudley's letter. He didn't want to dwell on that ghastly topic. He really would rather not let them know about it more than they should. "Well then, since all of us are aware of that world there will be no problem talking about it now." He took the missive that Professor Dumbledore gave him from the pocket of his coat and then handed it to Dudley. Dudley looked at them before opening and silently reading the missive.

"What year are you gonna join, bud?" Ethan asked.

"Ehm...third, I think," Dudley replied, scratching his head. "Someone's gunna teach me after I buy a wand."

"School's closed during the summer, bud," Ethan said, "so who'll teach you the basics that you need if you're joinin' the others in third year?"

"Hang on," Dudley said before reading the missive once more. "The letter says I'll be taught by the top student of my age, and he's a potions genius?" It took all of Harry's self-control not to snatch the missive from his cousin's hands. He calmly asked for the letter to take a look at it. He read the portion that says "The top student of your age, who is at the same time the Potions prodigy of the school, shall be the one to teach you the basics this summer holiday in preparation for the school year".

Harry handed Dudley back the letter whilst silently praying for a lightning to violently strike the Headmaster's very person for this inanity. The old man made him Mr. Postman and now he was making him a bloody tutor to an inept-looking muggleborn wizard. Did that senile old man even realise that he was not allowed to use magic? Well no doubt that old man realised it. There were still places wherein the Ministry trackers were not at work and one of those places was the Flamel Castle. That old man wanted him to take Dudley there and teach him two years load of curriculum in barely THREE MONTHS! Everything had gone very, very brilliantly! Of course he was being sarcastic about that.

"No name of the teacher?" Ms. Dursley inquired with a scoff, "how vague, very rude. How is Dudley going to know who'll be his teacher?" Considering that Ethan still wasn't blurting out something, and he still wasn't asked if he knew who the letter was referring to, Harry was thinking of standing up, gathering Ethan, and then consequently escaping to Flamel Castle.

"Harry?" he looked up to see his Aunt, "Do you know who he is referring to?"

Harry spoke too soon.

"You're asking him that?" Ethan interjected before he even got to answer. "C'mon, who else is the old man talking about? Of course it's none other than big bro, he's the top of his year and he's the youngest potions apprentice in the world this year!" Harry did nothing but ran a hand on his face at the gobsmacked faces of the adults plus Dudley in the room.

"Yes, as it turns out, I'm going to be his...tutor." he said with hesitation.

"You seemed surprise." Uncle Vernon remarked. "Were you not informed of this?" Harry wanted to say no but then he remembered what Professor Dumbledore told him, to which he wasn't paying attention, 'deliver it to him, teach him and give him instructions.' Harry: 0, Senile Old man: 1.

"I was informed," he answered reluctantly. "But we still have a lot to talk about regarding this one."

"We have all the time," said uncle Vernon.

"Well the thing is I can't teach him here." He paused and observed that everyone was listening attentively to him so he continued. "My brother and I are not going to stay here in the Surrey and also underage wizardry is forbidden. Witches and Wizards under the age of seventeen are not allowed to use magic outside of the school."

"You will break the law?" aunt Petunia asked cautiously.

"In some way, yes," he replied to his Aunt. "But considering that it is a direct order from the Headmaster of the school, he must have already explained it to the ministry." That old man better had. He wasn't going to risk being in trouble with the ministry solely for his fatso cousin's due.

"Now I can't teach him because I'm not staying here for the rest of the summer. So it's either he doesn't learn or he goes with me." Harry personally preferred the first option.

"Where are you staying then, boy?" Ms. Dursley asked. Harry was beginning to dislike Ms. Dursley for calling him 'boy' again.

"Nowhere near here. I don't disclose where I live."

"Harry, I'm not sure we can allow Dudley to go with you without knowing where," aunt Petunia said worriedly. "I'm not ignorant of what goes on in that world."

"I never implied that you're ignorant, Aunt Petunia," he said safely, not wanting to offend his aunt. "All I'm saying is I can't teach him here. Not to be rude or anything but I will not stay here for his due."

"Then I don't think I can allow Dudley to go," aunt Petunia said firmly.

"But mum," Dudley whined. Harry had to refrain from rolling his eyes at his cousin. The fat oaf was acting worse than a three-year old. "I want to learn!"

"Pet, I think it'll be good for him." Uncle Vernon interjected, "They're his cousins after all, besides he'll still go home to us, right Harry?"

"Of course, he will," he replied to his Uncle managing not to scoff or say that he didn't actually want Dudley inside his castle. "He can return to you during Friday evenings and stay until perhaps Monday mornings." Even at the shortest of time, Harry already had a schedule that they will follow in his head.

"Very well," Aunt Petunia conceded. "Dudley may go, but you have to tell me Harry the name of the place, at least the name." Harry practically thought long and hard on his answer before finally deciding to just tell the truth.

"The name of the place," he began, "is Flamel Castle. You will not find it anywhere near here, that I assure you. There are very few who knows of its exact location and I intend to keep it that way." Least to say, all of them were surprised about it.

"You –you own a castle?" said Ms. Dursley in disbelief. "You're a barely thirteen-year old boy!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"That, however, does not mean I'm daft or irresponsible unlike some," he retorted. "I can perfectly manage myself and my brother, and even so, my guardian still checks up on me."

"Well I say" said Ms. Dursley "your guardian's one irresponsible man." Harry felt his blood boil at that blasted woman calling Midas an irresponsible man.

"What kind of responsible man would leave two boys to fend off on their own?" Ms. Dursley continued on about Midas being irresponsible that it got on Harry's last nerve. "And he's a Professor as well? He can't even look after you two constantly…what more with many young –" That was just about the last straw for him.

"My dad is not irresponsible!" he snapped, voice louder than usual. Just as he raised his voice, a goblet nearby exploded. Harry knew that it was his doing so he forced himself to calm down. He hated it when other people would say bad things about his guardian. It was utter slander. They should be sued for libel.

"I'd thank you to just keep your opinions about my guardian to yourself, Ms. Dursley," he said icily, before turning to Dudley. "We're leaving on Saturday night seven o'clock sharp, Dudley Dursley."

Harry then stood up. "Now that my business here is done, I must leave," he informed the Dursleys before storming out of the number 4 Privet Drive rather rudely whilst his little brother scrambled to follow him.

Aunt Petunia raced after him as they exited the house. "Harry please," Harry stopped upon hearing his aunt speak.

"Excuse my behaviour, aunt Petunia," he said quickly. "I'll pay for the goblet but I will not stay in the same vicinity as her."

"Dash the goblet, Harry," said his aunt with an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry about Marge, she….speaks too much."

"That…she…does," Harry sneered disdainfully. His aunt placed a hand on his shoulder afterwards.

"I'm sorry, we will talk to her Harry," Harry merely nodded his response before he bade his aunt "good night" and went off.

"Ethan," he said authoritatively when his little brother and he were in their house. "Not a word to Midas of what had happened, alright? Especially the goblet."

"Of course, brother," his little brother answered.

"Thank you." Harry would rather not have Midas think that he couldn't control his magic.