Ministry of Magic, Britain...
Mr. Harry Potter, Head Auror, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, you name it, was striding down the hallway, checking his schedule- and his watch every few minutes.
"Remember," Hermione instructed him, "we've got that dinner tonight in the Burrow."
"Right," Harry said without looking up. "This is my stop," Hermione said, as the elevator skidded to a halt. She stepped out.
Not long after Harry reached the auror office, when a voice shouted out: "Mr. Potter! a word, please!"
Harry turned. At first he thought it was a reporter, like that pesky Rita Skeeter (in which case, how did they get here?), but he saw that the witch in question was much more petite, with chestnut finger-waves in a haircut that ended just below her jaw, and she wore dark emerald robes, no quill and no glasses.
"Mr. Potter." The witch panted as she came to a halt. "My name is Miranda Fawley of the British Wizarding Genealogists. We've met before."
Harry blinked. Yes, he remembered briefly meeting a witch that looked like her during this presentation about magical genetics- which shocked the wizarding world. Despite expecting it, just like Ron, to be a purely boring evening, what they had discovered stunned them to the core. The entire magical world was in an uproar ever since, as the witch in question, Victoria Artrigos, had discovered how some non-magical parents were able to produce a magical child. She had recently come from America, she said, to research. After discovering some interesting histories, including corrupt wizards and witches who sold their fellow mages over to non-magicals for a bit of gold, she noted that these so-called Scourers, had descendants, and they often either killed or abandoned any child of theirs that looked capable of magic (as they didn't want to risk discovery themselves). But the non-magical, or squib children they had with Muggles- called No-Majes in America- were kept. And they had descendants, some of which had magic. Some of whom were now integrated into American magical society and were referred to as No-Maj-born. And this, she stated, had never been discovered before as no one listed squib births.
So Hermione had been related to Hector Dagworth Granger, that famous potioneer that Slughorn mentioned. She'd been a bit frustrated and put-out that she had never discovered this ('Why didn't I see it before?!'), but grateful. Now, that he thought about it, this witch, Miranda Fawley, had been one of Victoria Artrigos' assistants on stage. "Yes- I remember."
Miranda nodded. "Mr. Potter, I'm not speaking to you on a whim, but before the news breaks out, both here and in the United States, I think you would like to know this."
Now Harry was bewildered. "Know what?"
Hesitantly she glanced around. "Perhaps you'd like a private word in my office?" Harry suggested. "Yes, that would be best."
The moment they stepped in, Miranda produced an envelope. "To be opened... After this meeting," she said awkwardly. "Not from me, Mr. Potter."
Harry was befuddled. "Then from who?"
In answer, Miranda waved her wand. An amazing series of lines made of light, sprung forwards, dancing in the air, trickling like water droplets on a window in the rain. A table sprang up- no, it was a family tree."
"Your family tree," Miranda stated. "I'll make this short, unless you wish to hear the full version later, in which case you can always contact us." She caused the picture (which must have shown only part of the family tree) to go upwards and focus on a name in particular.
"Your ancestor, Mr. Potter," Miranda explained. "Ralston Potter. He was a member of the Wizengamot in favour of supporting the International Statute of Secrecy, instead of declaring outright war upon Muggles, unlike the more militant members who chafed at the idea of going underground."
Harry nodded absently, wondering what this was about.
"But long story short, around New Year 1623, one of his sons, named Henry Potter left his village of Godric's Hollow, taking his wife and young sons along with him. He sailed to the Americas. Later on, Henry's son Abraham became one of the first aurors of the newly-formed Magical Congress of the United States of America."
Harry stared in astonishment. "I never knew that." To tell the truth, he didn't know much about his family, except for what he had been told about his parents, what he had glimpsed in photographs, Pensieve memories, the Priori Incantatem, the Resurrection Stone and what he had heard from his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia (most of which he now knew were lies). He didn't even know the name of his grandparents.
"Well... MACUSA, as it was known, was short of wizarding law enforcement. Abraham Potter was one of the first twelve volunteers." She waved her wand and another picture emerged: that of a stone sculpture, showing a group of wizards and witches heroically pointing their wands to light the way. At the forefront was a man who bore a remarkable resemblance to Harry- or rather his father James- with a mop of untidy hair which Harry knew was black, and... Were those round glasses? Did they have round glasses in the 1620s?
"The dangers and the challenges they faced were on an unprecedented scale, especially with such a large territory to cover as the United States of America. Sadly, out of the original twelve, only two survived to old age. Abraham Potter was not one of them, but he did leave quite the legacy behind. The descendants of these aurors are still respected in magical America- including the Potter family in the US."
At this Harry froze, turning towards Miranda Fawley. "You mean-" he began.
"Yes," she said.
"I have relatives-"
"Yes, Mr. Potter, you have family in America. And they, like you, have only recently discovered their connections to you." She handed him a sheet of paper. "This is a brief history of the Potter family summarised. But the previous envelope I gave you contains a letter from your relatives from the United States, hence why we didn't open it."
Harry stared, stunned towards this woman. "The press will be excited to hear this," she warned him. "But if you have any inquiries, please do not hesitate to owl the Department of Magical Genealogy in Britain, I'm on level four, Office Five."
Mutely, Harry nodded, gripping those two papers tight. The family tree vanished, alongside the picture of Abraham Potter, Harry's relative, and the last remaining link he had to a family apart from the Weasleys, his wife and children.
And that, unlike his parents, they were still alive. They were still alive after all this time.
Harry realised that he was gripping the envelopes too tightly.
He had never known about his grandparents. Lupin had once told Harry that his father, James, was a pure-blood, and his Aunt Petunia once said that her parents had been 'so proud' of having a witch in the family- something he now knew was borne of jealousy. She had been a muggle-born, his mother. Both sets of Harry's grandparents had died before he was born, otherwise he would have been raised by his maternal grandparents rather than his aunt and uncle who despised magic and made him wear Dudley's old things and sleep in a cupboard. They shared his mother's blood, so the protective charm, that worked thanks to the sacrifice his mother Lily had given him, could have kept him safe if he had lived with his grandparents.
Harry had caught a brief glimpse of the entire Potter family through the Mirror of Erised, once in his first year of school. Dumbledore had warned him. It was only reflecting his deepest desires. To know, to see, to glimpse and learn about his family as a child, the family he never had.
And now he was getting his chance. Harry seized the first envelope and opened it. He would look at the second one later, at home, with Ginny and his family- if the kids could sit still, that was.
He eagerly read the contents:
Dear Mr. Potter,
My name is Anthony or Tony Potter, and my wife Marion and I are delighted to hear of our family in Britain.
We have heard of you, across the pond, all the way in the United States, but we never would have guessed that you were family, in spite of the family resemblance, which I now realize, was hard to miss! We are both aurors and my daughter points out that we have the same untidy black hair which my wife complains is impossible to manage during office parties!
My parents, on the other hand did know about our relation to one another, as they once visited Britain, to meet your grandparents, Fleamont and Euphemia Potter during their stay.
As mentioned, my wife's name is Marion and I have three children: my sons, Lucas and Mathew- or Matt and Luke as we call them- and our daughter Hazel. Our boys attend Ilvermorny and are due to start their third and seventh years, whereas Hazel is still quite young.
I don't know if you will be happy to hear that you have family in America. I know of your history Mr. Potter, and we deeply regret not being there with you during your struggles, especially as during the Wizarding Wars, the magical countries of America forbade travel to and from Britain and anywhere where there had been support for the Dark Lord. I know we have no right to say that we are proud to have you as our relative, but we are greatly honored, nevertheless, to know that our children share an ancestor with someone who's done so much for the entire magical world. We wish we could have done more, and if you wish, we hope to make your acquaintance someday.
Our school terms are similar to those in Britain. This year we intend to go to Argentina, to the Patagonian Desert for the Quidditch World Cup. If you would like, you and your family, and whatever friends you wish, are welcome to stay with us in New York prior to the World Cup and travel to Argentina with us.
We hope yo hear your reply,
Yours truly,
Anthony Potter
Harry read the letter in amazement. How could his relatives think that he would not wish to hear from or to see them? That he might resent them for not knowing and for being an ocean away...
So his relative's name was Anthony or Tony. He had a wife named Marion, and three children, Lucas, Mathew and Hazel. His parents had known Harry's grandparents and met them in Britain... Did they, by any chance, meet James Potter too? Harry's father? What were his grandparents like? What was the family like in America, were they safe?
So many questions, none yet answered. Harry tucked away his letter in his mokeskin pouch, the one given to him by Hagrid during his seventeenth birthday, and decided to bring this up with Ginny, Ron and Hermione.
"What?" Hermione demanded. "Are you serious, Harry? You have family in America?"
They stared at him, astonished.
Harry, unable to contain his grin, beamed at them, nodding.
"But that's amazing," Hermione exclaimed. "Where?"
"Anthony- or Tony said they live in New York," Harry explained. "And that he's an auror, works for MACUSA."
"What?" Ron, James, Albus, Hugo and several others asked.
"It stands for the Magical Congress of the United States of America," Harry explained.
"Blimey, that's a mouthful," Ron muttered.
"Harry that's wonderful," Ginny exclaimed, gently, beaming with delight. "And have you replied?"
Harry hesitated. "Actually I haven't. There's something I want to discuss with you first."
Everyone stared at him, patiently waiting for his explanation.
"They've invited us over to New York," Harry began. "They're going to the Quidditch World Cup in April, and they're inviting us to come over and travel with them to Argenina."
Ginny beamed at this and Hermione covered her mouth with her hands. "Why that's brilliant, Harry," Mrs. Weasley began. "Do you want to go?"
"Come on, Dad, we hardly get to go anywhere," his son James complained. "Yeah, Dad, just this once!" Albus pleaded.
James and Albus were ten and eight, respectively, but Lily was nearly six, still quite so young, which was why Harry and Ginny both hesitated, but one look at Harry and Ginny knew he very much wanted to go and to bring his children with him.
"Alright then," Ginny beamed. "Why not. Why don't you come along, Ron, Hermione?"
"Us?" Ron said.
"Yeah, why not?" Harry elaborated. "They might want to see you as well."
Ron looked at his wife. Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know," she fretted. "The children are so young, and we've hardly ever been away for so long away from work."
"C'mon, Hermione," Ron complained. "We could use a break, spend time with the kids. Plus, it'll be an educational experience for them," he encouraged enticingly. "To go overseas. To learn more about the wider magical world. Establish relations with MACUSA or whatever it's called."
Ron himself had never been outside of Britain save for that time when he went to visit Bill in Egypt.
Hermione gave him a long-suffering look. "Please Mum," Rose begged her.
Hermione sighed. "Very well."
The children cheered in excitement. There were some complaints on the others who wanted to go.
It wasn't long before Harry replied to his American relatives and after a short correspondence, preparations were made for the journey.
Trunks were packed, pets were fed and safely handed over to caretakers for the journey. James and Albus both protested, but Ginny was adamant. They already had Harry, Ginny, James, Albus, Lily, Ron, Hermione, Rose and Hugo. That was more than enough for their hosts, they didn't want to add to the burden and experiment on the boundaries of their relatives' hospitality.
And the children had been given a stern telling that they were to behave themselves and follow instructions to the letter- or be sent back home before the Quidditch World Cup even began. With that threat, there were no more arguments.
Finally they loaded their trunks into the car, waved goodbye to their grandparents and off they went.
"So how will we be getting there?" Albus asked suspiciously. "Not by train. Hogwarts Express- right? Unless we have a flying train."
James laughed.
"No, we'll be heading off to the nearby port," their mother explained. Lily squirmed in her seat.
"Port?" James asked. "We're going by ship?"
"No," Harry answered. He veered to the left.
"Then how?" Ginny frowned as well. "Yes, Harry, how? Are we going by muggle airplane?"
"Those things that muggles use to fly?" Albus asked, puzzled.
Harry paused. "You remember that lady we went to see, Gin? At the presentation?"
"Who finally solved the thousands-year-old mystery of how children with no magical parents have magic," Ginny muttered. "Yes, I remember her. Victoria Artrigos, right?"
"Victoria Artrigos," Harry agreed. "She's a genius. It's not official yet, but she's invented and discovered a whole lot of things. She's also modified many muggle things-"
"Which is why many people are able to see the World Cup live," Ginny remembered.
"And some of these are methods of international travel which aren't just same," Harry explained. "They're easier to keep track, especially if you come from different countries, or you're bringing in things which aren't necessarily permitted by law in some countries. Like magic carpets aren't allowed here in Britain. They're not considered safe either. However, since she's already made recent headlines, Victoria Artrigos has decided to wait a bit before announcing her latest invention."
"And what's that?" The boys- and their mother- asked.
"Just wait and see," Harry said amiably, to grumbles.
Once the Wizarding Wireless had been considered outstanding. Now Victoria Artrigos' magical television, available only to magical individuals, had usurped it. Understandably, radio companies weren't very happy, but there was little they could do.
"Here we are." Harry came to a stop.
Ginny and her children leaned forwards and squinted. What appeared to be in front of them could have been a long, low building or a factory. Or a muggle airplane hangar. It was blank and white.
But it didn't look like it was anywhere near an airport terminal, tracks or sea. "There." Harry pointed. He rolled down the window.
"Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley Potter, James Potter, Albus Potter and Lily Potter," Harry hastily explained. "Travelling from London to New York."
Outside was a blank box and a security guard in a muggle uniform. He nodded. "Do you have papers."
Harry produced some sheets. The man waved his wand and they floated into the air. Pressing his wand over them, the wand emitted light which scanned the papers and showed strange patterns and runes, glyphs and symbols which few people could read and understand. The man nodded. "We need to scan everyone inside."
"Of course," Harry agreed. The gates swung open and the family drove through. Harry didn't even hesitate. When the kids were sure they were going to collide with a brick wall, they passed smoothly through- but not before they received a peculiar sensation like warmed water was being washed over them, passing every inch of their skin, every strand of their hair, every thread and seam in their clothing was being checked. At the same time, an explosion of lights occurred in front of them, and illuminated what they wore, the lights passing and checking every inch, not missing a single thing.
"Whoa," James breathed. He glanced at himself. He wasn't wet, and neither were Albus and Lily.
Suddenly, they realised everything was dark. But lights appeared up ahead, arrows pointing to a certain spot in the darkness. Harry followed them, and the car parked safely... Before everything went into a blur.
The car vanished, seemingly pulling its occupants in high speeds, but for less than three seconds, before they realised they were somewhere else entirely.
They were in a large, high and wide, building of grey metal and eerie green and blue lights everywhere. Harry drove the car on and parked it at space nearby. "Come on," he urged.
"Harry-" Ginny began. "It's fine, Gin."
They got out of their cars, and a trolley rolled out of nowhere, causing James to jump. He cursed softly, and some things popped out from the trolley from either side, like bubbles, solidifying into two more trolleys. More copies of the trolley popped from either side. "Thank you," Harry said to a nearby goblin who nodded his head, then vanished.
"Put your things here," Harry instructed. "Ron and Hermione'll meet us there."
"There where?" James asked.
"You'll see," was his father's only reply. As soon as the trunks were loaded onto the trolleys, they began moving towards a glass elevator.
"Harry James Potter," Harry said clearly to a mannequin that hung on the wall, wearing a pirate's uniform. "Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter. James Sirius Potter. Albus Severus Potter. Lily Luna Potter."
Silence. Then the mannequin opened its mouth. "Please step forwards." It said in a female voice. "One at a time, please."
Harry nodded. He stepped forwards. The trolleys rolled to once side. "Stretch out your arms." He did just that. The floor beneath him began to shift forwards. His family watched behind as beams of light scanned him from head to toe. "Please answer: when is your date of birth?"
"Thirty-first of July, 1980," he answered. "Your Alma Mater?" "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." "Who are you married to, and the names of your children?" "Ginevra, or Ginny Weasley Potter, and my children are James Sirius Potter, Albus Severus Potter and Lily Luna Potter." He answered calmly. A great beam of pink light passed before him, scanning every inch of him, before he promptly vanished. Ginny glanced at the trolleys. They were undergoing a similar process, without the questioning, before disappearing into nothing.
"Next please." Ginny sighed, prepping herself to do the same treatment. "Follow me okay?" She ordered her children. "And stay put. It'll be okay."
Once that was done, all the Potters found themselves into a glass elevator, scanned repeatedly by beams of light, which Albus was beginning to find annoying. "Our things are being taken care of," Harry assured them. "And-" he was cut off when a great beam of golden and silvery light passed through them. "That's our vessel."
Albus squinted and leaned forwards. It was a massive, long metal cylinder, with radiating with light, up to twenty kilometres in length and very wide. "Lily, hold on to mummy's hand. James, Albus, stay close."
The elevator ground to a halt, before rising into the air. "Look, there they are, want to wave, Lily?" Harry asked his daughter. Lily eagerly and excitedly waved, giggling at the glass elevator containing Hermione and a very confused Ron and their kids.
"Our landing platform is nearby," Harry said. "We're going on that thing?" Ginny asked, sounding bewildered, nodding towards the gigantic cylinder. "What is it?"
"An International Magical Transport Liner," Harry explained. "I.M.T.L for short."
"And... Victoria Artrigos made this?" She sounded baffled.
"Yes, at best we have only a few hours, a day at most, to get to America, it's perfectly safe," he assured her.
Nevertheless it was all too bizarre, Ginny thought as the elevator slowed to a halt, and the wall in front vanished. "Landing platform for New York. Directions to the Potter family cabin straight, turn left and then turn right."
"Thank you," Harry called out, ushering the boys whilst Ginny took Lily's hand. They stepped inside the liner. The corridor was carpeted in rich, deep, soft crimson, bordered with gold patterns
"Hey, Harry mate!" Ron's cheerful voice greeted them. He shook his head. "Never would've expected this." He muttered.
"Neither did I," his sister muttered. "Hey Harry, Ginny, kids." Hermione said cheerfully. Rose was eagerly examining everything, whilst Hugo looked overwhelmed.
"Do you have your keys?" She asked.
Harry rummaged in his mokeskin pouch. "Here." He held out a key, similar to his Gringotts key. Hermione nodded. "Remember, we'll need to keep our identifications at all times."
"Right," Harry muttered. "Well, how long will it take for us to get to New York?"
"Not long," Hermione reassured her. "Only four hours and fifteen minutes. That's half the time it takes to go from a muggle airplane."
"Yeah, but according to Dad, it's not nearly as fun," Ron stated. He looked at the door next to Harry and Ginny's. "First Class?" Hermione fitted the key. "Good trip." She stated, unlocking the door.
"You too, Aunt 'Mione," Albus said wearily as his father unlocked the door.
Inside was wide and spacious, decorated in the same rich, sweeping crimson carpets, with squashy velvet sofas and armchairs, a fireplace roaring beneath a handsome stone mantlepiece carved with the likeness of a hippogriff. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the whole room, combining with the fire to create a warm glow. There were coat hangers, and paintings on the walls, one of which showed scenes of their awaiting destination.
"They've loaded our stuff away, but we'll get self-adjusting pyjamas if we want to sleep laid out on our beds in the rooms." Harry sighed wearily. "If you're hungry, just go to the dining room and speak to the slot in the wall. Food and drinks will appear- whatever you want as long as it's non-alcoholic, not prank material or poisonous. Bathrooms are en-suite, so don't worry." He suppressed a yawn. "I didn't get much rest last night." Ginny nodded sympathetically. "Too restless to sleep?"
"Among other things," Harry confessed. He made his way over to the sofa. "Just wondering what my extended family in New York's like- what their lives are like."
And admittedly, if he wanted to be honest with himself, how different his life could have been if his parents had lived. Would they have lived like his relatives in America?
Ginny sighed. "Right. Boys, behave yourselves okay- James, I don't want a single prank or anything that would make too much noise. Lily, please come with me."
She looked at Harry. "How does this thing we're travelling in, work?"
Harry closed his eyes. "Soon, we'll be bending time and space. Vanishing, like that Vanishing Cabinet we saw in school. It'll take time, given the distance, but it's perfectly safe. We know where we're going to appear."
Soon enough, four-and-a-half hours later, the liner materialised in the travel port. Ginny blinked as their luggage appeared out of nowhere on the trolleys. The doors slid open, revealing a landing platform similar to the one they had departed in, and a glass elevator. "Welcome to New York and the United States of America," a voice cheerfully announced in the spaces above.
"This is it," Harry cheerfully announced. "This is it," Ron agreed, as their trolleys rolled forwards. Hermione came rushing over.
"I've just been contacted," she said. "We're being greeted by Anthony Potter and his family in the receiving area below."
They departed in a glass elevator and when they arrived, a throng of people were waiting, some with wands in the air, spelling names of the people they were waiting to greet, spread out before them.
Harry saw some words :THE POTTER FAMILY in bright golden light. The one conjuring those words caused them to disappear when Harry saw him. He was a tall, thin man in his mid-thirties, with an untidy mop of black hair and hazel eyes behind glasses, which were rectangular, not round like Harry's. He had a thin face, the same hair, a slim nose and the same hands as Harry's, but his eyes were like James- Harry's father's eyes.
Anthony Potter beamed, grinning as he saw Harry approach. He shook Harry's hand. "Mr. Harry Potter, welcome to New York."
"Please, call me Harry," he replied, grinning back. "Only if I'm Tony," his American cousin grinned. He gestured to a young lady with walnut-coloured tresses and honey-blonde streaks. "This is my wife, Marion."
Marion Potter smiled, extending a hand to shake. "Our son, Lucas," a tall boy with tidier hair than his father, no glasses and a handsome face nodded politely to Harry. "Our younger son, Matt," a scrawny-looking boy with his father's hair peered up at Harry. "And our daughter, Hazel."
It was easy to see why Hazel had been named as such; her large doe-shaped eyes were a deep gold-green colour, fringed with long, sweeping lashes. She appeared to be about Lily's age.
Harry introduced his family. "This is Ginny, my wife," he said as Ginny went to say hello, "Our sons James and Albus, and our daughter, Lily." He turned towards Ron and Hermione. "This is Ron, and Hermione, my brother-and-sister-in-law."
Tony Potter beamed. "Great honor. I've heard a lot about both of you." He beamed down at the kids and Hermione introduced them.
They soon found out that Tony was a warm, good-humoured, pleasant, friendly guy, if a bit mischievous. They were constantly laughing at his jokes, and Tony jokingly implied that he'd been a pain in school.
"So welcome to New York if I haven't already said that," Tony said cheekily. "Honestly, it's great to have you hear. We've been trying to get a break from work, but things are really tense. Thankfully, we've managed to ease up a little."
"I heard you work at the Auror Office in MACUSA," Hermione began. Tony nodded. "That's right. I'm the top Auror but the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Magical Security is my boss- he's Keme Sizemore." He made a theatrical face which caused the children to giggle. "And he's very thorough and efficient, but dang, he does run a tight leash. His sister wasn't as strict, but she's just as thorough and efficient."
"His sister?" Despite himself, Harry couldn't help but be interested in how the Auror Office in America worked. After the war, he, Kingsley and several others were trying to reform the Ministry. The Auror Office was no exception.
"The legendary Adsila- Adsila Sizemore, the fourth Adsila Sizemore. She was head auror but got promoted somewhere else. I rarely see her, and I don't know where she went." He frowned. "She was good enough to suggest me as a replacement to her brother, so I'm grateful."
"Anyway, I look forwards to hearing about life in Britain," he grinned. "I hear it's different."
"It's always different in another country," his wife rolled her eyes. "Forgive my husband, he's a little too... Exuberant."
Tony put a hand over his heart in a melodramatic manner. "You wound me- I thought that's the reason why you fell in love with me in the first place." Everyone laughed. "Anyway, we'll be home soon," they were driving. "But first, I hope you don't mind the New York traffic. Honestly, we'd much rather apparate, but with kids around, well, they don't like it much."
Hermione nodded. "You mentioned that two of your children are in school?"
"What's the school in America?" Ginny asked, keeping an eye on Lily who had started playing a game with Hazel.
"Ilvermorny," Marion answered. "It's in Mount Greylock, Massachusetts."
"That's interesting." Hermione peered at Marion. "So it isn't unplottable."
"Good heavens, no," Tony spoke. "You see back in those days, people needed somewhere to go to in times of trouble, somewhere like Ilvermorny which is a fortress, where they can set out for. Well, America being the size of America, we didn't have many of the advantages as you'd expect. we're much too spread out and the No-Majes-"
"Sorry, what?" Harry blinked.
"You know," he waved a careless hand. "Non-magical people? No-Maj is short for no magic."
"Oh," Harry said. "We call them muggles in Britain."
Tony laughed. "Sounds cuddly. Anyway, as I was saying, America's wizarding history is pretty rough. You've heard about the Great European Witch Hunt right?"
"The what?" Albus asked.
"It's the time when wizards and witches in Europe were being persecuted by muggles- or No-Majes, right?" Harry asked, tentatively. "Sorry, it's been a while since my last History of Magic lesson." He admitted sheepishly.
Which he never paid much attention to in school, because his teacher, Professor Binns, had a tendency to drone on and on, without arousing the slightest interest in his students or paying attention in what they were doing. Some students had a tendency to go for naps, Ron amongst them.
"Yeah," Tony sounded amused. "Anyhoo, these really fanatical No-Majes- sorry, muggles- decided that Britain had become too corrupt, too decadent and too full of witches."
"Well, they weren't wrong there," Ron joked. Everyone laughed. "Well, these guys- known as the Puritans- decided to up and leave for the Americas because clearly they thought it was empty and they couldn't tell that there were already people there and some of them were magical- or that wizards already knew about America long before they did and some decided to escape the European Witch Hunt by going here!" They laughed.
"Of course it didn't take long for it to come into cahoots," he sobered suddenly. "The history of violence between American No-Majes and magical people is a long and violent one, but after the Salem Witch Trials where many innocent people were killed, the magical Native American tribes and the magical settlers banded together and formed MACUSA- and our ancestor Abraham Potter was one of the first aurors. They faced a huge challenge and only two of them survived to old age.
"So magical Native Americans and European settlers were targeted by these No-Majes and the Scourers-"
Ron blinked. "Sorry, the what?"
"Scourers," Marion Potter looked grave as she explained. "Prior to the formation of MACUSA, America was short of magical law enforcement. Dark wizards and witches could flee here, far from any authority to rein them in. They could do whatever they wanted, and America's a big place, so it caused a lot of problems when it came to finding and catching them. The scourers were mercenaries and bounty hunters, hired by anyone who could afford them. First they did a good job, but then they became corrupt."
"They liked gold a little too much." Tony muttered, all traces of humour gone. "They didn't just hunt down criminals, but anyone who wanted someone dead or framed for a crime, they went for them as long as they got a good price." Marion continued. "Because of the lack of authority at that time, they could go after whoever they wanted so long as there was a good reward, and whoever stood in their way could suffer the same treatment. They became brutal, and began to torture people and commit other horrible crimes. In time, they stopped working for their fellow wizards and began working for No-Maj witch hunters who gave them money to turn over their own kind, even if it meant certain death, even if the witch or wizard they caught were actually innocent. Just a random person they picked on." She pursed her lips. "It didn't matter to them. Sometimes they framed other No-Majes for being witches and wizards. Things like this led to the Salem Witch Trials where countless people were executed. There were at least two scourers during those trials, pointing the fingers and causing countless innocents to be killed." She looked disturbed.
Right now, they had gone to a park somewhere in New York. Tony kept driving the car to the silence. It was a fine day, the sky was clear and blue and birds could be heard singing outside.
Harry was silent. Hermione looked appalled and downright horrified. Ron's face was ashen. Ginny looked outraged and murderous. "Why would they do such a thing?"
"Gold. Greed." Lucas Potter spoke up. "After the Salem Witch Trials, MACUSA was formed. The first task of the Original Twelve was to get rid of the Scourers. They succeeded at wiping them out, but not before they passed down their ideas towards the No-Majes that witches and wizards still exist and are evil." He gave their British visitors a grim look. "Which is why in America we need to be extra careful around No-Majes. We follow strict rules."
"He's right," his mother sighed. "But we shouldn't scare them, Lucas, you know that." Lucas shrugged. "Just sayin'. Scourers were mostly captured and put on trial by MACUSA, but a number were never caught. They married into No-Maj families, got rid of any kids of theirs who showed signs of magic- I'd hate to find out how- and taught their descendants how to integrate into non-magical society and that magic does exist and witches and wizards who practice it are evil and deserve to be wiped out." He looked grim. "Their descendants still believe that. They've spread the word. That's why American No-Majes are harder to fool and hoodwink than non-magicals anywhere else in the world."
His dad sighed. "Right. Things can be pretty tense. Obviously, not all No-Majes are bad, but it's highly likely that if a No-Maj does discover that you're capable of magic that they would react in a very bad way. That's why we live- here." He drove the car to what appeared to be a huge pine tree. The car vanished.
When everything came into focus, they saw that they were at a clearing.
There were a series of well-kept manicured lawns and gardens, pretty hanging baskets, window-boxes and pots holding some of the brightest. A series of fine, tasteful houses lined the road, but none of them matched like muggle- or No-Maj neighborhoods. They were in interesting shapes and sizes, colours and even patterns at times.
One house looked like a neat little cottage with a huge oak tree which sprouted from the middle of the house. Another looked like a miniature Gothic tower.
"We're up over there." Tony drove forwards.
The house was a lovely red-wood and stone building with a garden up front. Inside was incredibly spacious, with gleaming, polished wood floors, soft rugs, eggshell and cream-coloured walls or grey-green ones, and handsome golden oak accents in the stair railings, squashy velvet sofas and armchairs, family photographs, lots of books, photographs in frames and paintings. A rack of shoes stood near the door. A few pieces of artwork, like carved owls, or childhood pictures obviously drawn by Hazel and the boys in their younger years. Everything looked warm, cosy, tasteful and inviting.
Despite its obvious quality, and the obvious wealth of its inhabitants, there was nothing cold and grand about this place. It was tasteful, as mentioned, and comfortable, warm, welcoming and un-threatening, with an air like Hogwarts or the Burrow. It was home.
"It's beautiful," Ginny and Hermione breathed at the same time. They smiled at each other.
"Welcome to our home." Marion smiled. "Now why don't we show you to your rooms, then you can refresh yourselves and have some dinner? We'll talk afterwards."
"As preparations for the Quidditch World Cup are underway in Argentina, the countdown is soon to begin. Travellers from all over the globe are readying for the preparations to travel to the Patagonian Dessert." The announcer said on TV. It all seemed very curious, this new No-Maj device, but people had quickly taken to it.
A knock resounded on the door. The elder Cherokee man got up from his called out to his wife that he would get it- and was confronted by the sight of a smiling Adsila.
"Osiyo, Eduda," she greeted.
"Adsila!" He beamed broadly. "Hasiyu?"
"I'm fine, Eduda," she told her grandfather. "I'm sorry to disturb your vacation time." She switched to Cherokee.
"Think nothing of it," he said, waving a careless hand. He might have been an elder of high standing within their influential and powerful tribe and of immense social status, influence and wealth within the whole wizarding America, but he actually never liked to stick to protocol.
"Come inside," he urged. Adsila stepped inside the lodge. "What brings you here, at this time of night?"
"I've just been to a meeting in New York," she explained.
His eyes sharpened. "Another assignment?"
"From the president." Adsila replied, watching him widen his eyes ever-so-slightly.
"What is it this time?" He asked.
She winced. "I'm afraid I can't answer that, you know, Eduda. It's strictly classified."
"I see," he said gravely. "Is it something to do with what's on the news?"
Adsila stared. Was it on the news already? As if those journalists weren't fast enough, now that they had TV... She should've been grateful.
"Honey? Who is it?" The voice of her grandmother echoed through as she stepped into view.
"Osiyo, Elisi," Adsila smiled. "Adsila," her grandmother beamed and threw her arms around her. She smelled of freshly-squeezed lemon and baked treats, family recipes kept secret from the outside world, and even nosy relatives.
"You're here," she breathed. "Oh, I can't believe it. How's everyone?"
"Everyone's fine, Elisi," she stated."I've just been in a meeting with the president not four days ago."
They both stared. "What was it about?" Her grandmother asked.
"Don't ask," her grandfather said. "You know she can't tell."
"Sadly, no," Adsila agreed. "But it's important. I'm on standby, expecting another assignment soon enough."
Her grandmother looked grave. "I see," she said. "And does this mean you'll be going away soon?"
"Actually, I'm here to recruit Ayita." Adsila's grandparents exchanged surprised glances.
Adsila frowned. "Eduda, Elisi, I know how you feel. I know it's especially hard for you to let us go like this, and Ayita's had a hard time. But you know she needs this job- it's her dream anyway. Besides, I would never force her to do anything so I'll give her a choice, but you remember what happened last time, right?"
Her grandfather grimaced. "Yes," he admitted. "And we can't afford for it to happen a third time," Adsila insisted. "Not unless she wants to get demoted into another department or even fired and banned from working for MACUSA. The first time there was some debate in regards to her responsibility. The second time she was partly responsible, I know it was an accident, but she was partly responsible, nevertheless. And she has to take that responsibility."
They both gave each other knowing looks and sighed. "This may be her final chance." Adsila said softly. "She was a good agent,and she had great potential but mistakes could be deadly in our department and the last mistake almost was. She could have ended up in serious trouble, as it is, and the next time, I won't be able to testify on her behalf in her defence." She herself had arranged for lawyers for Ayita during the hearings. "Ayita wasn't the only one responsible, but she's being watched closely from now on. If she does nothing, she'll be branded a quitter and she might as well quit. If she works hard and is careful not to get into anymore trouble and earns respect, then she may have a stable position, perhaps someday, she'll be promoted. Who knows?" Adsila sighed. "I have to recruit her."
Silence.
Then a voice spoke. "You mean it?" They turned. It was Ayita.
Adsila's cousin had satiny skin the colour of caramel and honey, not as deep and rich as Adsila's, she had delicate features, a tiny delicately upturned and pointed nose like her, though less tapered, a pretty but small mouth,thick silky black hair in a long braid, high cheekbones, not as defined as hers and a slender, willowy figure. She was beautiful, and she would grow to be even more beautiful, though she was not as dazzling as her cousin.
Or currently as accomplished. "Yes, I mean it," Adsila answered, looking into Ayita's caramel-coloured eyes. She gazed at her cousin, an unspoken message passed between them. Ayita nodded. "When will we start?"
"For now, you are to remain in New York on standby, but prepare yourself and be ready for anything." She warned. Ayita could not fail, not a third time.
"I'll see you in New York," Adsila said, before turning to leave. "Be careful Adsila," her grandmother warned. "Stiyu, Adsila," her grandfather said.
"Dodadagohv i," she replied as she went out the door.
Harry finished washing his hands. He shook them and wiped them with a towel and proceeded to make his ways downstairs.
Ginny and Hermione were talking animatedly with Marion whilst Ron and James were laughing uproariously at something Tony had said. The two Potter girls, Hazel and Lily, and Hugo were quietly playing on the carpet, whereas Luke was being asked some questions by a very eager Rose. The adults and the older children were in the kitchen or helping to set the table. Harry could not help but feel himself warm at the sight.
He went and carried a load of mashed potatoes sprinkled with grated cheese and chives to the table, whilst Ginny levitated a platter full of grilled ribs covered in barbecue sauce despite Marion's protests. Hermione had made lemonade using cane sugar and fresh lemons from the gardens and carried them in pitchers to the table, whereas Luke tossed the salad.
Finally they washed their hands and sat down to eat. Laughter, chatter and the clink of cutlery upon plates filled the air.
Lucas told them about Ilvermorny and what he planned to do. "I'm going to MACUSA, but I'm not sure which department just yet," he confessed.
Tony said that his parents lived up north, but if they liked, they could go and visit them. Their cottage was a lovely place, he said. Deep in the woods, but it looked like a fairytale dream, Marion put in. With a lovely garden with roses and honeysuckle, and their cottage inside was truly lovely. She loved visiting her in-laws.
They talked about the oncoming Quidditch World Cup and life in America and Britain. Hermione wanted to go to New York and see MACUSA, Tony was happy to take them along. In fact, he was sure some MACUSA personnel wanted to see them.
That night, so far away from home, Harry still slept soundly, as peaceful, warm, comfortable, and happy as he had ever been. It reminded him of his first night at Hogwarts.
If only he knew ho briefly he would get to enjoy this.
For those who have read the original story, you may remember Adsila- but this is a different Adsila to last time, she isn't going to be the OC she was last time. I felt there was something wrong with her characterisation and her involvement in the plot, and I've just introduced her cousin Ayita.
Adsila has a Cherokee father and a Narragansett mother, so when she's with her family she won't speak English, but Cherokee or Narragansett. I don't want to offend any Cherokee, Narragansett, Quileute, Makah or any other Native American reading this, so please let me know if I misspell something or make any mistake. Adsila uses Cherokee right above when speaking to her grandparents and cousin, because some Native American tribes do have magic, some are entirely magical, others are divided between the magical and the non-magical. Plus, because of the lack of ethnic prejudice in magical society, they would have flourished, not lost their land and become subjugated to loss of culture, rights, food and water, and so forth.
As every witch and wizard in the US followed Rappaport's Law, this meant that unlike the No-Majes, while they may speak English fluently, they clung to their native languages.
Cherokee words:
Osiyo- (Pronounced oh-see-yoh) Greetings to a tribal elder, a clan mother, or another person with high rank in the tribe.
Eduda- (Pronounced aa-dou-dah) Grandfather- paternal.
Hasiyu?- (Pronounced Hah-see-you) 'You are good?' Can be used as a statement without the question mark.
Elisi- (Pronounced aa-lee-si- like sit without the t) Grandmother.
Stiyu- (Pronounced Stee-you) 'Be Strong.' A goodbye.
Dodadagohv i- (Pronounced doh-dah-dah-goh-hun-i). 'Until we meet again.' (Plural form)