Albus and James agreed to keep their adventure in Knock-turn Alley to themselves, though the encounter with the Raths had filled Albus' head with questions that he was itching to discuss with his father. A couple of days passed and Harry and Ginny Potter received an invitation from Ron and Hermoine Weasley to join them on an evening out to celebrate New Year's Eve. The Weasley children were going to spend the evening with their mother's parents, the Grangers, who resided in a flat that boasted a spacious balcony perfectly situated to view the New Year fireworks display. The Potter's children were welcome to join them.

Ginny was somewhat reluctant to leave her progeny in the care of muggle strangers, mostly out of concern for the welfare of her sister-in-law's parents. However, her brother insisted that the Grangers were fully aware of the children's' magical abilities, that the four older children were certainly old enough to look after themselves for a few hours, and that even if they weren't, Hugo, the youngest, was easily responsible enough to keep the rest of them in line. Therefore, the Potter children were packed up and shipped via the Floo Network to spend a muggle-style holiday with their cousins.

Wilbur and Frances Granger's home was pleasant, if a little cramped with so many visitors inside. Upon arrival, the Potter children were introduced to Rose and Hugo's grandmother and grandfather, as well as their great-grandmother who sat quiet grandly in an armchair, her blue eyes glazed over.

"Don't worry about magic talk in front of Nana," Rose whispered to them, "She doesn't see or hear very well anymore and even if she did, she'd soon forget whatever she saw!" As if to illustrate her point, Rose went to her great-grandmother and offered from a crystal dish full of candy.

"Would you care for a cherry cordial, Nana?" she asked loudly. Nana gazed at Rose with tenderness and patted her on the arm.

"Thank you, lovely," she cooed, "God love you, what was your name again?" Hugo chortled in the corner.

"I'm Rose, Nana," Rose explained, trying to contain her indignation, "I'm Hermione's daughter, Rose."

"Are you now? Well, you're just as lovely as can be!"

Rose and Hugo's granddad lit the fire pit on the balcony and their grandma wrapped them in blankets and they sat out on the balcony, sipping cocoa with marshmallows and enjoying the colorful noise from the street festival below. Granddad Weasley skewered some apples and allowed the children to roast them over the pit and dip them into cinnamon and sugar. Despite the cold, it was a very pleasant evening.

"It's getting rather too frigid out here for me," Grandma Weasley said after a time, "I think I'll go in and tend to the eggnog. Would anyone like more cocoa?" Several hands shot into the air and she laughed.

"Rosie, would you collect some of these mugs?" Rose began to pick up the mugs and place them on a tray and Albus stood to help her. They followed Rose's grandmother into the tiny kitchen and had a seat at the table, which was covered with books. Rose picked up one and opened it to reveal page after page of fuzzy, black and white photographs. Albus always enjoyed looking at muggle photographs. The subjects always looked funny to him, as if suddenly turned to stone.

"I see you've found the Granger family album, Rosie," her grandmother observed as she emerged from the kitchen with the steaming tray of mugs, "Granddad and I used to look at those every New Year's Eve when your mother was a little girl." She pointed at a photograph of a young man in a dark robe.

"See, here's your grandfather graduating from University. We were married the next year."

"Who are all these people?" Rose asked eagerly. Her grandmother looked over her shoulder.

"This is your grandfather and his younger brothers, when they were teenagers," she explained, "I'm told they were a handful for your poor great-grandmother. Eleven children, she had!"

"Eleven children!" Albus exclaimed, "That's even more than Gran Weasley!" Mrs. Granger flipped to the front of the book, where she found the page which showed the Granger family tree. Rose read off the names of all her great aunts and uncles. Albus was reminded of the peculiar genealogy book Mr. Rath had shown him with all its different colored names. If Rhiannon Sutherland was correct, Mr. Rath would be very interested in the book before them. She'd said he found the family history of muggle-borns to be the most fascinating.

"Here's my mother," Rose declared as she pointed out Hermoine Jane near the left side of the page, "But I'm not on here anywhere!"

"You're absolutely right!" her grandmother replied. She set the tray on the table shakily and produced a pen from a side drawer. Carefully she drew the proper lines and wrote in the names, 'Rose' and 'Hugo'.

"There," she said happily, replacing the cap on the pen, "Now we're all complete!" Rose turned back to a page with a large photograph, showing her great-grandmother and father, with their brood of eleven children. She studies their faces.

"Which one of these is granddad?" she asked finally. Her grandmother examined the photograph for a long time and finally pointed to one of the youngest boys, the second from the right.

"There he is." Rose looked sharply at the little boy in the picture.

"Are you sure? He looks really different from these teenage pictures."

"Well, dear, some children change quite a lot as they grow." She gingerly removed the photograph from the frame and flipped it over so Rose could read the back. The note on the back identified the little boy as 'Wilbur, age three'. Rose seemed perplexed by something.

"Come on dears, let's get these mugs out to the others before they get cold!" Rose's grandmother lifted the tray once more and carried it out to the balcony. They followed behind her, Rose still carrying the picture album. As her grandmother disappeared behind the sliding door, Albus watched as his cousin knelt beside Nana and held the book open on her lap. She pointed to the photograph of her three-year-old grandfather.

"Who is this, Nana?" she whispered. Nana's blank, blue eyes followed her gesture to the little boy in the photograph and Albus watched as the elderly woman's face filled with warmth and lucidity.

"Why, that's my Wilbur!" she exclaimed lovingly, "He was such a dear little boy!" Rose smiled and leant over to examine the picture again.

"He was always up to something, though!" Nana Granger continued, "Always giving me nasty frights! I'll always have nightmares about the day he was hit by that car and we thought we were going to lose him!"

"Hit by a car?" Rose exclaimed, horrified, "When did that happen?"

"When he was about nine or so," she told her, "It was in the summertime and the boys were crossing the street without looking first. Our neighbor had a motorcar and we rushed him to the hospital as quickly as we could. That doctor nearly killed me when he told me my boy wasn't going to live!"

"But he survived anyway?" Rose asked.

"He did indeed! Those doctors don't know so much. Sometimes, there are miracles." Rose turned the pages of the album again, examining the photographs of her grandfather in his childhood. Albus couldn't understand the deep frown on her face. Suddenly, they were interrupted by her grandfather, coming in from the balcony.

"It's nearly midnight," he called to them cheerfully, "You don't want to miss the fireworks, do you?" He went to his mother's side and helped her to her feet.

"Come on, mother," he said as he guided her toward the balcony, "You don't want to miss the turning of the new year!" She looked at him blankly.

"Thank you, dear. What was your name again?" Mr. Granger just laughed and they made their way out on to the balcony.

"Granddad?" Rose asked once they had settled, "Nana said you were nearly killed in a car accident as a boy. Is that true?" He looked surprised at the question but he nodded.

"Do you remember what it was like?" she asked.

"Only bits and pieces of the actual accident. I frequently used to have nightmares about it. I would dream I woke up in the hospital with no idea where I was or how I got there. It was terrifying! Even now, at times, I wake up and have that sickening feeling that I'm not where I'm supposed to be, even in my own room!" He smiled at her and place his arm around his wife's shoulders, "But then I see your grandmother and I remember that I'm right where I'm supposed to be."

It was nearly two hours later when the children's parents returned from their night out. Hugo and Lily were passed out on either sides of the loveseat and Mr. Granger had just returned from taking his mother home to the Aged Adult Centre.

"I hope they weren't any trouble for you," Ginny said nervously.

"No," Mrs. Granger assured her, "They were as good as gold!"

"Let me help you with the dishes, Mum," Hermoine offered.

"Oh, don't fuss, dear…" her mother began, but with a flick of her wand, the dishes were already splashing in and out of the sink, spinning themselves dry, and sorting themselves into the cupboard. In a minute, the entire kitchen was spotless and Mrs. Granger beamed at her daughter.

"Mummy, look at this picture," Rose began.

"Oh, Rosie, we need to get home. It'll be sunrise before you know it! Where are your brother's shoes?"

"But, Mum, I want to show you something…"

"I've seen those albums dozens of times before, dear…" Rose looked a little deflated and her grandmother made a suggestion.

"Why don't you borrow that album, dear? You can look at it with your mother some other time." Rose brightened at the suggestion.

"Thank you, Grandma!"

When the Potters returned sleepily home from their evening out, there was a considerably pile of envelopes accumulated on the breakfast table, all bearing the seal of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"No!" Harry moaned, "You have to be kidding!" His family knew it was serious, however, and that fact was confirmed in their father's expression as he opened the seal of the top envelope and read the message inside.

"No…" he wailed again.

"I'll go and fix a breakfast to go with you," his wife said comfortingly, "Kids, it's time for bed! Say 'good-night' to daddy." James said 'good-night' and went up to his room sleepily. Lily caught their father in a hug.

"Will you take me up to my room, daddy?" she asked playfully as Harry continued to frown at the message from his work. He smiled at her, and set the envelope back on the table.

"Of course!" he told her and he picked her up in a bear hug and carried her up the stairs. Albus followed them silently.

"You're getting much too big for this, my girl," Harry told his daughter who responded with a muffled, "No, I'm not…"

Albus watched silently from the corridor as his father placed Lily in her bed and changed her into her nightgown with a flick of his wand. Lily kissed him and crawled under the covers. They had a brief conversation in whispers before his father flicked out the light and quickly walked through the corridor to his own room. Albus followed him and watched as he began removing his cufflinks and tie and rummaging around in a wardrobe for a clean shirt, all the while grumbling to himself about having been called away from his family yet again.

"Dad?" Albus asked and his father looked up at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Al," his father said with a smile, "Good-night, dear…"

"I was wondering about something…" Albus told him.

"What's that?" his father asked through a yawn as he cast a de-wrinkling charm on a clean, white shirt.

"Why is Buddy a wizard when neither of his parents are?"

"It just happens that way sometimes," his father explained.

"Uncle Dudley didn't seem very surprised about it. Is that because he knew magic was in his family?"

"I reckon he was quite surprised, Albus. I don't think he expected it at all. Neither of his parents had magical abilities, nor Aunt Kathy's."

"But, his aunt did…and you. Were your grandparents upset when they found out your mother was a witch?"

"Not as far as know. The one time Aunt Petunia spoke of it, she said they were very proud."

"Don't you think that might mean that they already knew it was possible? Perhaps they knew magic ran in their family, just the way Buddy's dad did?" Harry stopped fussing with his tie and looked at his son with a concerned expression.

"I reckon that's a possibility…"

"Well then, perhaps she wasn't really completely 'muggle-born' at all!" Albus considered excitedly.

"Albus, whether or not magic runs in a person's family has no bearing on how good a witch or wizard they are. You know that, don't you? Some of the very best are muggle-born!"

"I know that, but, what if they really aren't muggle-born? Maybe they had magic in their bloodline and they didn't know it? What if there's no such thing as 'muggle-born'? Then how could anyone think they aren't real witches and wizards?" His father smiled.

"Well, unfortunately, that isn't the case. We know there are muggle-born witches and wizards. Think of your Aunt Hermoine. They know for a fact that there wasn't any witches or wizards in her ancestry!" Albus began to protest, then stopped. He didn't know if he should say anything about the photographs and Rose's great-grandmother's story.

"My dear, I need to leave for work, now," his father said, "And you need to go to bed." Albus nodded sleepily. His father took his shoulder and led him down the corridor to his bedroom door.

"Good-night, son." he whispered, so as not to wake Lily or James.

"Good-night," he replied and watched as his father crept exhaustedly down the back staircase and into the kitchen.