Chapter 3: Brave New World

John: "O brave new world that has such people in it. Let's start at once."
Brave New World, Aldous Huxley

A peel of thunder that seemed to last forever startled Harry into wakefulness. He rolled off of the battered couch. The circle inscribed on the floor was lit up, the runes glowing with all the colors of the rainbow. Blue-white light filled the center of the circle as captured lightning arced between it and the circle on the ceiling that mirrored it.

"C'mon, Harry, we have to go!" Allie shouted in his ear.

Harry turned to her. Allie's face glowed from the energy discharges in stark contrast to the shadows. "What is it?"

"Someone tried to apparate in, magical teleportation," Allie explained, pulling him towards the grate over the camp-stove.

"I thought the…wards?" Harry asked, then continued without waiting for an answer from her, "Wards stopped magic inside the apartment."

"They do!" Allie shouted over the noise as she worked furiously on the stove to get it lit. "Even with the lock the circle is a weak point, makes it the natural point to apparate into. Of course right now it's acting like a trap because I closed it last night, but it won't hold for long. Not against someone powerful enough to force their way into using it as an apparting point. We'll have to go to that friend of mine a little sooner than I intended."

"How?" Harry shouted back as she pulled away from the now burning camp-stove.

"Magic!"

She reached up and broke a line in a drawing on the wall behind the 'fireplace', then grabbed a handful of powder from a jar next to it and threw it into the air above the grate. The small blue flames of the burning fuel grew until they danced several feet above the metal grating, and turned a venomous green. Seemingly unconcerned, Allie stuck her head into the fire.

It didn't seem to harm her, despite the fact that her head was in flames so thick and furious that Harry couldn't see her above her neck. In fact, if he didn't know any better, it almost looked like she was talking to someone, though he couldn't hear her any more than he could see her head. But when she pulled her head out a moment later she seemed in perfect health.

"Grab a handful and throw it in," she told him.

Feeling rather foolish, Harry stooped to grab up a fistful of the grainy powder and tossed it into the fire which had reduced once more to its normal blue flame. Once more they burst into green light.

"Get up there!" she shouted.

"You want me to do what?"

"Get on the grate," she repeated, grabbing him around the waist.

Harry tried to pull away, but she pulled him in after her and shouted something that he couldn't make out. He saw her scribe a line through a sigil on the wall, then they were spinning. He saw…rooms, places he didn't recognize. Most were dark and empty, but some had small floating lights, or candles, torches, or old metal lanterns, one or two had actual people…

And then suddenly they stopped spinning as one room in particular swam before them and they were pitched out onto the floor in a tangle or arms and legs.

"Allie?" a man with dark skin, a black beard, warm eyes, and a blue turban asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she said, disentangling from Harry and brushing soot off herself. "I bloody well hate the floo."

"What was that?" Harry asked, pushing himself up.

"Floo," Allie said. "Go in one fireplace, come out another. Also has a handy function that works sort of like a telephone."

The man peered at Harry, "Is this…"

"Harry Potter, meet Chirag Patil. Chirag, Harry Potter," Allie said.

"Er, how do you do, Mr. Patil?" Harry asked awkwardly.

"Quite well," he said. "I take it you are unfamiliar with floo travel?"

"No," Harry said. "I'm not familiar with it."

"He didn't know a thing about magic," Allie said. "I bumped into him at the zoo earlier today. Wild magic burst, vanished a pane of glass in a snake exhibit. I didn't even know who he was at first."

"You know nothing at all?" he asked.

"I know how to read, and math, and stuff," Harry said. "I'm not stupid."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were," the man said, raising a solitary eyebrow at Harry's reply. "I only meant to ask if you were totally unaware of the existence of magic."

"Oh, sorry," Harry said. "Allie told me some things. That magic is real and about Voldemort, sir."

"'Chirag' will do, or 'Mr. Patil' if you insist on being formal," he said, wincing only slightly when Harry invoked the dread lord's name. "Anything else?"

"Just that, Mr. Patil," Harry repeated.

"I see," he murmured. He looked at Allie, "Let me guess, you put him in the circle?"

"He lit the candle, first try on his own, in twenty minutes," Allie said. "And that before he'd rinsed the salt off."

"Salt?" For a moment Mr. Patil looked confused, then he chuckled and shook his head. "Still living like someone is out to get you, Allie?"

"It doesn't mean they aren't," she said. "You know very well what I stand to inherit, what my Talent is, and that my father is rotting in Azkaban for good reason. Any of the three would be reason enough for people to want to get their hands on me."

Mr. Patil didn't reply for a moment, "I think, Allie, that you would find it much easier to do the latter if you would trust yourself, and your training, a little more."

"Easy for you to say," she said tonelessly.

"Perhaps," Mr. Patil said, turning back to Harry with a smile. "Still, someone managed to light their candle on the first try—"

"Second, sir—sorry, Mr. Patil," Harry said, quickly correcting his mistake as the adult frowned. "I, uh, couldn't get it to light simply by imagining it burning. I had to imagine the wick getting hot and then—"

Mr. Patil laughed, "To get it lit at all on even your second try is no small feat, Harry, especially when you do it in the magical equivalent of someone else's private workshop. I'm amazed that Allie hadn't by now poured so much of her power into the place that you were able to get more than a wisp of smoke."

"I haven't had that circle all that long," she demurred.

Harry looked at Allie.

"Belief, remember?" she asked. "Doubt it a real magic-killer."

"Oh," he said in response and watched as Mr. Patil turned to question Allie.

"What happened?" he asked her.

"Someone tried to apparate, or maybe portkey, into my apartment," she said, "probably apparate. The circle trapped them. We got out as quickly as we could. I had us both take salt-water baths and rub down with a lodestone before we went to my flat, and I checked the few things I didn't abandon for a magical trace. I don't know who found me or how they did it, or if they were tracking Harry some way."

"And yourselves?"

"You're the one that taught me that magically imaging living things is harder," Allie said. "Besides, if there was a tracking charm on one of us that wasn't disrupted it'd almost certainly be beyond my skill to dispel."

"You think someone has been keeping an eye on Harry," Mr. Patil said quietly.

"Me?" Harry blurted. "But I'm—"

"Harry Potter," Allie finished. "I told you. In the magical community—the wizarding world, as it likes to call itself—you're a household name. Everyone has heard of you, though most of what they've heard is a complete fabrication. Also, just because the Dark Lord disappeared that day doesn't mean that his followers did. I wouldn't have put it past the Ministry to have a monitoring charm on you just in case one of them decided to kill you in revenge."

"You have been watching far too much muggle cinema," Mr. Patil said with a shake of his head before turning to Harry. "What about your relatives?"

"His relatives are nulls," Allie said before Harry could reply. "They didn't seem to notice him missing. I checked the news before I turned in, nothing about Harry being reported as missing. As I said, we both took salt water baths at a different location, we scrubbed down with a lodestone, and I sent his clothes off in a passing car. If there are tracking spells on him they're beyond me to block, and you know what my place is like."

"What about Mr. Sullivan?" Harry asked. From the way Allie suddenly tensed he wondered if he had said something he shouldn't have.

"Mr. Sullivan?" Mr. Patil asked.

"A friend," Allie said. She hesitated, before grudgingly admitting, "He's the one that's been teaching me and did a lot of the defensive warding on my flat. He didn't find any active tracking spells, but pointed out that with a sample of Harry's blood a long-term passive tracking spell could have been set up."

Mr. Patil nodded, "Such a tracking spell would report his last location before entering your apartment. Your front door, I presume. There are not many powerful enough to emplace a spell capably of standing up to those types of wards and then be able to report through the magical dead-zone within your flat. Most of those who could do it prefer a life of private research rather than employment in the Ministry of Magic." He frowned and stroked his beard with one hand, "there was no warning, correct?"

Harry watched as Allie nodded tiredly.

"The first notice we had was the circle-trap activating," the young witch said. She looked at a picture on a wall. Harry saw that besides the man, there was a lovely woman, and two girls about his age. All were moving.

"My floo inserted us somewhere inside two dozen random activations so we have a little security. If you still don't want us…me staying because of the twins, I unders—"

"Think nothing of it, Allie," he said. "I, we, all owe you too much." He paused and looked at Harry. "And you have me forgetting my other guest. You remember where the guest rooms are, yes? Go, sleep. We can discuss what to do in the light of day."

"Darkness is better for plotting," she said.

"Not when you are exhausted," he said sternly. "Go. Sleep."

"Ah, excuse me," Harry said, and felt his face heat as both turned to look at him. "Is…is that picture…moving?" he asked, gesturing towards the picture.

"Yes," Allie said.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling somewhat relieved that he wasn't imagining it. "How?"

Both the man and Allie traded looks, and then Allie smirked, "Magic."

Harry nodded slowly. "Okay…" he said, drawing the word out. He looked around again and bit his lip, "Um, what if whoever was after me decides to come here?"

Mr. Patil smiled at him, "Allie's wards are designed with her…unique abilities in mind. They create an area in which no magic is capable, thus limiting the chances of her harming another should she lose control of her Talent at an inopportune moment. As a side effect, they are highly effective in both hiding her location and making it difficult to enter by means of magic. The wards over this house are substantially different. One of the wards makes it impossible to apparate into the house or grounds for any who are not keyed into them. I assure you, you are quite safe."

"Oh," Harry said.

\|/\|/\|/

Harry woke up to find a face he didn't know filling his vision. Not only that, it was in perfect focus as its owner was less than four inches from his face.

"'Bout time you woke up," the face said crossly.

"Uh…sorry?" Harry asked.

"Not as much as you will be," the face promised, then looked up at someone else and nodded.

Harry sat up and reached for his glasses. His fingers had just coiled around the cool metal and glass when there came a squeal from out in the hall, and he got his glasses on his face just in time to get a perfectly focused vision of a red streak in mid-air. Then the bed bounced violently as it hit. He felt the bed try to throw him off, but the sheets trapped him and slapped him back down onto the mattress, which was when the human-shaped former-streak began to bounce. Harry struggled against the sheets as the owner of the face that had woken him began to bounce in a blue counterpart to the red.

"FOOD!" Came an echoing call from downstairs.

Both streaks stopped long enough for Harry to get a glimpse of the two girls he had seen wave at him from the portrait the night before. He was reminded of lions he had seen the day before, sitting patiently, heads tracking towards the direction the call had come from.

"Fooood," both said in a hypnotic drone, giving the word several added syllables. Then they were twin streaks once more and Harry was alone.

"Met the twins, have you?" Allie's head peeked into his room.

"Is that what happened?" Harry asked.

"Better get up and get downstairs before they eat everything. I'll warn you in advance, the twins have zero table manners in the morning." She paused and her face grew thoughtful, "at least they didn't the last time I was around for breakfast."

"What do I wear?" Harry asked.

"There should be some robes in the closet," Allie gestured. "Just pull on something that fits reasonably."

Harry struggled out of the tangled sheets and closed the door. He set about making the bed first, then opened the closet. There were a couple of heavy coats and half a dozen cloaks. The rest were…robes he supposed, in various sizes and colors. He settled for pulling some fairly simple black robes over his head. They were a bit long and he had to hold them up to keep from tripping on them, but they seemed to do just fine.

He walked into the dinning room. Unlike Allie's apartment there were no magical writings scrawled across every surface. Instead it seemed…normal. Normal-normal, not the magazine-picture version of 'normal' that his Aunt insisted on, with only a very few (and extremely odd) things to suggest the family that lived in the house was anything but. The pictures were, by far, the least of these.

The twins were going through a stack of pancakes with a voracious haste that reminded Harry briefly of the tank of feeding piranhas from the day before. He managed to take a better look at Mr. Patil now that he wasn't half-asleep. He was a tall man with dark skin and an absolutely magnificent beard.

Across from him sat a woman in blue robes. She had a darkly tanned face, though lighter than her husband's swarthy look, with long black hair and a red dot on her forehead. Her lips twitched in what might have been a smile when she noticed him.

"Ah, Mister Potter," Mr. Patil said. "So good of you to join us, the girls have not yet managed to consume all of breakfast, as such there are still pancakes left for you."

Both girls stopped eating and stared at Harry.

"Hello," the one in blue said as her sister turned and glared at Allie.

"You could have warned us," she said accusingly.

"Sorry," Allie said, not sounding sorry at all.

"My girls, Padma, and her sister Parvati," Mr. Patil said warmly, indicating the blue and red former-blurs in turn. "They start at Hogwarts this year; and this is my wife, Anjuli."

"Ma'am," Harry said, at a loss for what he was supposed to do. Breakfast for him was usually a piece of dry toast or two, after the Dursleys were done.

"Why are you wearing witches' robes?" Padma asked.

Harry felt his face heat and he glanced back towards the door.

"Harry just learned that magic is real yesterday," Mr. Patil said gently.

"But he's Harry Potter!" Parvati protested. "He has to know about magic!"

"I, uh, was raised, um, mundane?" he asked Allie.

"Muggle," she supplied. "At least that's the term popular in the wizarding world."

"So why do you use 'mundane' or 'null' then?" Harry asked.

"There's a fairly substantial fringe group of people that know that magic exists but aren't part of the wizarding world. For a couple of reasons that's where most of my business is and the term isn't exactly well taken amongst the 'muggles' so I tend to use 'mundanes' to refer to people who don't know magic exists, and 'nulls' for those who do, but have no magical abilities or aptitude." She nodded towards the platters that were rapidly being denuded. "You better eat before the twins eat it all."

Harry nodded and quietly took the empty seat. The platter the pancakes were on slid over to his plate and a trio of pancakes flipped off it and onto his. "Wow," he whispered.

"He really doesn't know about magic," Parvati said with a similar tone of awe.

Padma rolled her eyes at her sister and turned to Harry. "Just tell them what you want."

"Them?" Harry asked.

Padma nodded and looked at a tiny pitcher, "more syrup, please." The tiny silver pitcher hopped over to her plate and deftly drizzled syrup over her pancake. "Thank you," she told it before turning back to Harry. "That one is maple—"

"Daddy tried some on a trip to Canada, and now he has the stuff imported," Parvati said with a frown of disapproval. "It's quite unnatural, pouring tree blood on pancakes, I'd stick with pumpkin syrup if I were you."

"—There're also apricot, blueberry, raspberry, and pumpkin syrup," Padma finished, gesturing to four more pitchers in turn. "And ignore my sister, maple syrup is quite nice. That one over there is whipped cream. You can tell which ones have fruit."

Harry pondered his choices, not only pancakes but toppings too—and served with magic at that. He hesitantly asked for blueberries and whipped cream, and the pancakes disappeared under an onslaught. The twins giggled until Padma reminded him he had to thank them when he had enough.

"If you want some more pancakes dear, to go with your cream and berries, all you have to do is ask," Mrs. Patil said with another quirk of her lips.

Mr. Patil laughed as the twins burst out in giggles, and Allie cracked a small smile.

"Thank you," Harry said. "So, uh, what's Hogwarts?" he asked as he began to eat.

The twins looked at each other. "She didn't even tell him about Hogwarts," Parvati whispered in shock and Padma turned a baleful glare at Allie.

"I didn't have time," she protested.

The twins glared at her, then turned to him. "Magic school!" they proclaimed.

"You haven't gotten your acceptance letter yet?" Mr. Patil asked.

"No, sir," Harry said, then quickly added, "Mr. Patil," at the disapproving frown his response had received.

"Better," he nodded. "I can't imagine why not. Usually the letters are very prompt. You should have received one around now. They usually arrive well before the recipients eleventh birthday. Acceptance owls have to be in by August 1st, so commonly students with birthdays in late June, July, and August receive theirs about two or three months before then to give them time to decide."

"Owls?" Harry asked.

"They use owls to send post," Allie said, sounding like she didn't consider it an improvement over normal post. She turned to Mr. Patil, "You don't think someone might have tried for a more…personal invitation?"

"At almost ten at night?" Mr. Patil asked skeptically. "Even Albus has to sleep sometimes, Allie. I know you dislike the man, but in this case don't you think you're letting your feelings cloud your judgment?"

"No," she muttered darkly.

"Albus?" Harry asked.

"Albus Dumbledore," Mr. Patil said. "The Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Slightly mad, über-powerful, beloved of everybody, and ruler of the free world," Allie added.

"Don't talk about Dumbledore like that!" Parvati snapped. "He's a great wizard!"

Allie started to retort, then shook her head. She turned back to Harry, "Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard. Besides being Hogwarts' Headmaster he is also the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and a half-dozen other things."

"Supreme Mugwump?" Harry asked. "And what's a 'Wizengamot'?"

"Supreme Mugwump is sort of like a chairman," Mr. Patil told him. "He's in overall charge. The International Confederation of Wizards is similar to the Muggle's United Nations, only much older."

Harry nodded slowly. He wasn't certain what the United Nations was, but Uncle Vernon had talked about it often enough to know it was either bad, incompetent, or useless, or perhaps all three. Although, considering it was Uncle Vernon, the complete opposite could very well be the case.

"The Wizengamot serves as a legislative body, they are the ones who create the laws of the wizarding world," Mr. Patil continued. "And a number of the wizards and witches in the Wizengamot also serve as the judges that make up the judicial branch. They decide what the laws mean, sit in judgment upon those who are accused of crimes, and the like. This body is also called the Wizengamot. The Chief Warlock is both the Chairman of legislative Wizengamot, and the Chief Justice of the judicial Wizengamot."

"Oh," Harry said, trying to work his way through that. "So he's very important?"

"That's one way of putting it," Allie said.

"He's the greatest wizard ever," Parvati proclaimed.

Padma frowned at her sister, "At least since Merlin."

There was a hissing sound and the fire in the fireplace turned green. A gray, woolly thing appeared, and for a moment Harry thought a goat had somehow managed to wedge itself in the fireplace. Then an arm reached out of the fireplace and a hand uncoiled the longest beard Harry had ever seen. It was even longer and bushier than Mr. Sullivan's was. It was connected to a face with bushy gray eyebrows, madly twinkling blue eyes behind half-moon eyeglasses, and managed to managed to look both twelve and a hundred and twenty years old at the same time.

"Ah, Chirag, I'm glad I caught you at breakfast."

"Speak of the devil and he hears your call," Allie muttered in a low voice that Harry was sure had been pitched so that only he could hear.

"Might I come over?"

Mr. Patil cocked his head to one side, "Business?"

"Of a sort, this is about one of your house-guests," the wizard said.

Mr. Patil's face darkened slightly, but he nodded.

The man's face withdrew from the fireplace, followed by the long beard.

"An," Mr. Patil glanced at his wife.

Harry watched as Mrs. Patil turned and looked at her husband, and had the uncomfortable sensation that there was an entire conversation held in the span of several seconds and an exchanged look.

"I will take the girls," she said simply, rising from the table.

"Do we hafta?" Parvati demanded.

"Yes, you'll have plenty of time to see Albus Dumbledore when you go to Hogwarts," her mother stated, already ushering Padma out of the room.

"Allie," Mr. Patil said as the young teen stood.

She turned and looked at him.

"This is my house, you are my guest."

Harry was pretty sure there was something in that sentence he missed because Allie almost instantly relaxed and nodded. A half-remembered line from a book he had managed to look at in his primary school's library came to mind, "Curiouser and curiouser," he whispered.

"Indeed," Mr. Patil said.

Harry flushed as he realized that he had been over-heard just as the fire once more turned green.

This time a man in purple robes with pink polka-dots and a silver belt stepped out of the fire. It was the same man as before; the beard was now tucked under the belt, as though the accessory was more for holding it in place than holding his robes up. In addition he wore a very elaborate, very pointed, very orange hat.

"Chirag, how wonderful to see you again," the wizard proclaimed. He looked at Allie with a much less friendly look that still seemed to be more than casually polite. As though they were close acquaintances rather than friends. "Miss—"

"Hawthorn," Allie cut him off, her voice colder than a highland blizzard. "Alice Hawthorn."

Harry stared at her. 'Alice' was hardly as bad as she had claimed her real first name to be, and if she and the wizard already knew each other, why did she have to introduce herself? But Dumbledore merely nodded and said "of course."

"And Harry Potter," the wizard continued, "So very good to see you, my dear boy." He didn't laugh, but his tone conveyed one nonetheless.

"And you are, Sir?" Harry asked, jerking his gaze away from Allie.

"Albus Perceval Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Allie said, leaving the slightest of pauses between each name. "Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards; Chief Warlock, Wizengamot; Grand Sorcerer; Order of Merlin, First Class; Discover of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, ad nauseam."

"Don't forget champion at ten-pin bowling," Dumbledore smiled, then turned to Harry. "I usually just go by Albus Dumbledore," he wizard confided. "The rest just goes on for far too long."

"Oh," Harry said.

"I have something for you," Dumbledore said. "Meant to give it to you before now but I've had a bit of trouble finding you."

Allie snorted.

Dumbledore frowned slightly, his eyes drifting towards her, then he looked back at Harry. A thick parchment envelope appeared in his hand and he handed it to Harry.

It was thick, heavy, and had a sort of buttery-smooth creamy texture to it. Written in a spidery hand in luminous green ink was written:

Harry Potter
The Patil's dining room
#7 Hatton Lane
Birmingham
West Midlands

Harry flipped it over to reveal a purple wax seal. Impressed into the wax were a lion, a snake, a badger, and a bird all around a large capital 'H'. He glanced at Dumbledore who was now whistling merrily, and then Allie who didn't look nearly so cheerful, before turning back to the envelope and slit open the seal.

Inside was a brief letter, written in gem-toned purple ink that glowed slightly. Unlike the scrawl on the envelope, the letter was written in a broad, fluid, and very curvy hand. He flipped to the next page and found a supply list: magic books, robes, a cauldron, and a wand. He stopped abruptly and shook his head. There was no way the Dursleys were going to pay for this.

"Problem?" Dumbledore asked.

"My Aunt and Uncle," Harry said. "They aren't going to pay for this and I, well, I don't have any—"

"Money?" Dumbledore asked. "Not an issue, I assure you. Your name has been on our rolls since you were born. Your parents were also fairly well off. I understand they left more than sufficient funds to see you through school."

Harry frowned, "My Uncle said they were penniless, died in a car accident."

Dumbledore seemed taken aback. "Did they ever mention magic to you?"

Harry shook his head, "Allie…Alice explained to me last night."

"Indeed," he said, turning to look at the girl in question. "What else did you… explain?"

Allie rolled her eyes, "Magic exists, some general background…why he is famous."

Dumbledore's expression darkened for a moment, then his eyes were twinkling in full force again. "Very well."

"What's Hogwarts like, Allie?" Harry asked.

"I don't go to Hogwarts," Allie said in a toneless voice that made Harry look at his friend in concern.

That stopped him. He had a friend. Okay, so they never said the word, but…Allie had rescued—the word wasn't quite right, but Harry decided it would serve for now—him from the Dursleys. She'd introduced him to magic. Taught him how to do his first magic. "Why?" he asked after a moment.

She shrugged, "I don't know." She turned to Dumbledore, "How about it, Headmaster? Why was my request to be admitted as a student denied? Was it because of what I am…or is it because of who I am?"

"As a daughter of a Death Eater," Albus began.

"Please, Lucius Malfoy's brat starts this year," Allie said, crossing her arms. "I can name a dozen offspring of Death Eaters in your school already. That doesn't include—"

"Lucius Malfoy was bewitched and ensorcelled into acting against his better judgment," Dumbledore said sternly. "Your father—"

"Didn't have Malfoy's over-priced lawyers at his trial and he didn't the judges' private coffers with gold," Alice said bluntly.

"Death Eaters?" Harry asked into the oppressive silence that had suddenly filled the room. "I've heard Allie use the term before, and I was wondering…"

"Voldemort's inner circle of lackeys and henchmen," Allie said, not taking her eyes off of Dumbledore.

"Miss Thorne, is it really necessary for—"

"Hawthorne," she grated. "I'm not entitled to the Thorne name yet. As for whether or not it's necessary, I think it is. Better that he goes into your world, his world, knowing as much of what he should have learned a long time ago as he possibly can learn in the time left," she continued, but Dumbledore had turned from her and was once more watching Harry.

Dumbledore ignored her and turned to Harry. "Shall I put you down as having decided to attend?" he asked kindly.

"I haven't made a decision yet," Harry said.

"Is it really so difficult a choice?" he asked, raising one large, bushy eyebrow. "Certainly it's what your parents would have wanted."

Harry thought of a half dozen ways he could have responded to that…most of them would have gotten him stuck in the cupboard under the stairs if the Dursleys had heard it. Or maybe they wouldn't have, they seemed to be the type that would disapprove of magic, maybe even more than they disapproved of him. He bit back the retort and decided to attempt to derail what looked to be the beginnings of an argument. One thing he knew very well was to avoid arguing with an adult. "Mr. Patil, Allie, er, Alice, what do you to think I should do?"

Mr. Patil considered him. "You must do what you feel is right, of course," he said after a moment.

"There are other good schools out there," Allie added. "None that are quite as good in this country, perhaps, but if you're willing to look outside the United Kingdom they're out there: Beauxbatons in France and Durmstrang in Latvia, if you insist on staying in Europe. Outside of that your options are more open. The Adelaide Arcane Academy of Australia has a quadruple-A rating, the Salem Wizard's and the Salem Witch's Institutes both are well regarded though the later would require…some work to get you to fulfill the entry requirements, then there is the—"

"Yes, yes, all fine schools, certainly," Dumbledore said smoothly. "But they aren't Hogwarts."

"No, which is why I'm not studying at any of them after you turned me away," Allie said dryly. "The only school my trust will provide funds for is Hogwarts, and since I'm tapping out the allowance that I can draw for help learn how to deal with my…gift." The last was delivered so bitterly that Harry was pretty sure she meant curse.

Dumbledore ignored her. "Harry, please, your parents would—"

"My parents," Harry said softly, "are dead, Headmaster. I never knew them. Aside from their names I know next to nothing about them, and it seems that most of what I do know about them is lies, told me by the Dursleys. Unless you know some piece of magic that will bring them back, I doubt I will ever know them. Appealing to me by telling me what they would have wanted isn't scoring any points."

Dumbledore looked at Allie, to which she shrugged. "I didn't exactly have time to explain that magic does have some practical limits, even if it doesn't have a great many theoretical ones."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, as though Harry had made a good point, but he didn't say anything. Instead he seemed to find one of the framed photographs on the wall to be of particular interest, and stared at it intently as he thought.

"Why can't Allie go to Hogwarts?" Harry finally asked when the silence had gotten to oppressive.

"Hmm?" Dumbledore asked. "Ah, my apologies, Harry, I allowed my mind to wander and…" he made a small waving gesture. "Aside from her blood relationship to one of the worst of Lord Voldemort's…followers, Ms. Thorne—"

"Hawthorn."

"—also has a natural inclination towards certain magical Talents that are—ill-suited, shall we say?—for a school, and pose a hazard to both herself and those around her," Dumbledore said.

Allie started to say something, but Mr. Patil walked over and set a hand on her shoulder. "Allie, please," he said, "You aren't helping your case."

"I shouldn't have to make a case," Allie said.

"Is it dangerous?" Harry asked.

"Why do you think I live alone in a one-room flat with wards and runes and sigils chalked on all the walls, the ceiling, and floor?" Allie asked. "The allowance from the Thorne trust is not exactly ungenerous, and wizard gold goes a long way in the mundane world, but private magical instruction tends to be very expensive, especially when it is as…specialized as what I've needed."

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

She shrugged, "It's not your fault, Harry. You don't need to keep apologizing for it."

Harry looked at Mr. Patil, "Do I have to go to this school?"

"As Allie said, there are many fine schools," Mr. Patil began.

"No," Harry scowled. "I mean to this kind of school, magic school."

"Do you not wish to learn magic, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "There are many marvelous things that I am sure that Chirag and Ms. Thorne have not yet had time to tell you of."

Allie gave a small humph, but apparently stopped protesting Dumbledore's use of the name.

"Flying brooms, and potions, and spells that are only limited by your own imagination; buildings that are supported entirely by magic, rare and fascinating creatures, items that have been enchanted to be much more than they appear. Such are only the beginnings of the wonders the magical world holds."

Harry bit his lip and looked back and forth between the two adults. Dumbledore seemed pretty insistent on getting him to go to Hogwarts, at the same time Mr. Patil seemed perfectly willing to let him 'make his own choice'. He had heard similar things from teachers before, but there were very few times it had worked out well in the end between Dudley and the Dursleys and even other teachers.

"I want to learn magic," he decided carefully.

Dumbledore smiled, "Excellent. In that case…"

"But," Harry said, turning away from Dumbledore to avoid seeing how he'd take being interrupted. Probably not well, most adults in his experience didn't…but Allie trusted Mr. Patil, and he had said he didn't have to worry inside his house, so Harry was willing to take the chance. "I don't want to have to leave my first real friend."

Allie's expression turned guarded, "That's really nice of you, but—"

"You could teach me," Harry said.

"No," Allie said at the same time Dumbledore said, "That is not a good idea." Both traded looks that Harry couldn't read, then Allie turned back to him. "What I do, Harry—or at least the magic I know how to do—it mostly isn't something that can be taught. The strongest stuff is all natural Talent, and it isn't the kind of thing you want to learn in the first place.

"Oh, I could teach you the sigils, glyphs, and runes. And I could probably teach some ritual magic, things like that, but that would be the extent of it. But there are patterns, harmonies in what I do that are more instinct than learned. If you wanted to learn how to use a wand or other focus tool…" she shook her head.

"What about Mr. Sullivan?" Harry asked.

"Master G could teach you that," Allie allowed, "you heard his offer. At the same time, however, he likes his privacy and you are a very public figure. Once the magical world realizes you are around…"

Harry frowned. Okay, so getting Sullivan to teach him was out. Part of him was disappointed, but he really didn't want what the wizard had offered. Allie couldn't afford to go to another school, but… "What if I pay—"

"No," Allie said, cutting him off.

"You said that my family was well-off, and you said that your family had money, you can pay me back when you can get at it," Harry pressed.

"No," Allie repeated.

Which only left one real option, to Harry's way of thinking.

"Well then, I guess you'll have to come to Hogwarts too."

Allie blinked, "Excuse me?" she asked.

Dumbledore frowned.

"Please?" Harry asked.

Allie frowned. "Why?" she asked before Dumbledore could speak. "I mean, why insist that I come too?"

"I told you," Harry frowned. "You're my first friend."

"I'm sure that is an exaggeration," Dumbledore said.

"No," Harry said flatly. "It's not. My aunt and uncle hate me. My cousin makes sure that nobody wants to be my friend. I'm not allowed to do any better than he is in school."

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure that your relatives do not hate you."

"Fine," Harry said. "They don't care then."

"Of course they care," Dumbledore said.

"They why haven't they reported me missing or something?" Harry asked. "I left them at the zoo yesterday. They probably didn't even notice that I had gone."

"I'm sure that they are quite worried," Dumbledore said absently, pulling out a bowl of candies from his voluminous robes. "Lemon drop?"

"No," Harry said flatly. "Thank you."

Dumbledore popped a sweet in his mouth and proffered the bowl around, Mr. Patil and Allie both turned down the offer.

Harry took a deep breath and continued, "Both hate anything 'abnormal'. I'm sure that both are going to be furious when they find out, if they find out, that I'm going to a magic school."

"Nonsense," Dumbledore sucked on his lemon drop. "They will be quite proud. Most muggle parents are when they find out that they have a child with such a gift."

Harry stared at him for a moment. The idea that the Dursleys would be 'proud' of him was utterly bizarre. Clearly the Headmaster didn't know them…either that or his connection to, well, reality, was much less firm than he seemed to believe. "The Dursleys aren't my parents, though."

That seemed to stump the aged wizard, Harry thought with some satisfaction. He recovered quickly though. "A slip of the tongue," he said. "I meant parents and guardians."

"I want Allie to come too," Harry said, fixing his jaw.

Dumbledore considered him, blue eyes twinkling merrily. "Aside from certain...magical proclivities, let us say; there remain other issues that make her attendance at Hogwarts… problematical. Even if we overlook the identity of her father, there is still the issue of her age."

"So?" Harry asked.

"Harry," Allie said. "I don't have the grounding in basic, focus-oriented magical knowledge to go into my age-year. I'd have to enter in yours."

"That would be the more obvious, yes," Dumbledore said. He paused briefly before continuing. "There is also the problem of her magical core having had several additional years of development. Magical channels have had those same years of stabilization. The channels that focused-based magic depend upon will have atrophied and decayed from lack of development."

"What?" Harry asked.

"He means that it may not be possible for Allie to perform to curriculum-standard in some areas of magic," Mr. Patil said. "Not having the exposure to some fields of magic, practicing their spells, may have caused her magic to…seal those areas off as other areas developed instead."

Dumbledore was looking quite serious now. "I don't believe that Ms. Thorne attending Hogwarts is the wisest course of action, Harry."

"You said I was famous, right Allie?" Harry asked, not looking away from Dumbledore as he spoke. "Do you think other schools would have a problem with you attending as well as me?"

Allie scowled, "I don't want you pulling any strings for me, Harry."

"Still," Dumbledore mused. "I'm sure that with some careful thought, some sort of reasonable accommodation can be reached to minimize the danger to students and disruption in classes." He hummed and nodded to himself, "Yes, yes, something can be worked out. Perhaps the use of…" he wandered off into thought, the twinkle in his eyes slowing.

Mr. Patil cleared his throat noisily.

"Hmm?" Dumbledore asked, turning back to him. "Oh, yes, excuse me, lost in thought. I'm quite certain some accommodation can be reached."

"You said that already," Allie noted dryly.

"So I did, so I did," Dumbledore smiled broadly, eyes once more twinkling away. "Very well, Harry. I will see that your…friend receives an acceptance letter directly." He considered Mr. Patil. "Chirag, would it bother you terribly if Harry were to remain here for the remained of the summer? I will let his Aunt and Uncle know that he'll not be returning until the end of the Hogwarts school year."

"Certainly, we would be honored to have him," Mr. Patil said.

"Very well, Chirag, Harry, Ms. Thorne," he said, nodding to each in turn before walking back to the fireplace. He tossed in a handful of powder and the flames turned green. Harry watched as he stepped into the flames, said something, and disappeared.

"You should not have done that," Allie said, finally disrupting the silence that had filled the room with Dumbledore's departure.

"I thought you'd be happy," Harry frowned.

"If I wanted charity I would have taken Chirag up on his offer to send me to Adelaide or the Center for Mystical Studies in Switzerland, or even Miskatonic Uni, years ago," Allie said shortly.

"Allie, Harry, please," Mr. Patil said. "Allie, I never understood your reluctance to take my offer for help. The Thorne family is not exactly poor; you would have been more than able to pay me back once you came of age if you had insisted on doing so."

"A favor for a favor owed," Allie said. "Nothing I did was worth a loan as extensive as the one you're talking about."

Harry busied himself with another pancake. There was a respect, a level of equality, between the two that he couldn't understand. Allie was two—certainly not more than three—years older than him, yet Mr. Patil was talking to her as though she were an adult. He wondered for a moment if the magical world considered adulthood to come earlier. After a moment he decided it really wasn't important. The Thorne family, it seemed, was pretty well off, only Allie couldn't touch the money (or at least not most of it) until she 'was of age' which meant she wasn't…yet. Then there was the talk of favors and debts, which seemed to have more significance than the Dursleys gave and none of which seemed to revolve around money. Speaking of which…

"How do I pay?" he asked.

The other two people in the room turned to him, and Mr. Patil frowned. "You are my guest, Harry. There is no need for…"

"I think he meant his school supplies," Allie said dryly.

Harry nodded.

Mr. Patil's frown disappeared. "I would imagine the Potters would have a Gringotts vault, perhaps several. They were an old and very influential family."

"Vault?" Harry asked.

"Gringotts is a wizard bank," Allie said, "the wizard bank, actually. It's staffed entirely by goblins. They're nice enough, if you're courteous to them. They aren't human so what they consider to be polite can be a bit…odd. Most wizards and witches look down on them for a variety of rather stupid reasons. Vaults are just what they sound like and each is tied to a key. We can ask one of the managers about that, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Okay," Harry agreed.

"We'll also get some money exchanged, get you some decent mundane wear," Allie said.

"When are you thinking?" Mr. Patil asked.

"I have a job in Westmorland two days from now, might last a week or more," Allie said. "Tomorrow would probably be best, but that means I have to prep today."

"Oh?"

"I was contracted for the old Strickland place."

"What kind of job?" Harry asked.

Allie hesitated.

"Allie's magical talent, Harry," Mr. Patil stepped in smoothly, "while not particularly well received by the magical community at large, and frankly quite dangerous, can be put to some particularly useful uses."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

"In this case?" Allie asked. "An old magical residence that's being cleaned up for sale to mundanes has an…infestation. Someone put out some quiet feelers for someone with the talent or training to take care of it."

"Infestation?" Harry asked. "You mean bugs? Magical termites or something?"

"Something like that," Allie said. "Wizarding houses have all sorts of things that need to be chased out before mundanes can move in: doxies, ghosts, gnomes, pixies… If it helps, just think of me as the magical equivalent of the pied piper only without the silly clothes or pipe."

"And that's dangerous?"

"Just picture yourself as a gnome in a nice, old, magical castle—or rather the rose garden since gnomes don't usually live inside—and then one day being told that you have to leave so that a non-magical family can take up residence," Allie said. "It's a lot less 'come follow me' and a lot more 'get out of here or else'."

"I see," Harry said slowly, not sure if he saw at all.

"Probably not, but that's okay," Allie said. She glanced at the wall clock and sighed, "Which means I have to get going if we're going shopping tomorrow."

"Uh, Allie?" Harry asked as she turned to leave.

"Yes?"

"What was that bit about us calling you 'Alice'?" Harry asked. "And his calling you 'Thorne' when you said your name was 'Hawthorn'?"

Allie hesitated. "The Thornes are an old magical family, Harry, really old. They are also strictly matrilineal—inheritance is passed from mothers to daughters."

Harry nodded.

"The Matriarch, the head of the family, and her immediate family uses the 'Thorne' surname, but by family tradition those outside of one generation—children and siblings—have to use an associated name. That is, a family that married into the Thorne's and has since gone extinct with the Thorne's holding the best claim, or one of several traditional names used by cadet branches of the family. 'Hawthorn' has been customarily used by the heir's family for five or six centuries."

"What Allie neglects to mention is that she will become Matriarch upon reaching her majority," Mr. Patil said. "She technically has the right to use the name, but has declined it until then."

"And 'Alice'?" Harry asked after a moment. "I thought your first name was really bad."

"It is," Allie shrugged. "I just like 'Alice' better than the name my mother gave me, and I knew he'd never use my preferred name." She snorted, "He couldn't even use my last name."

She turned to Mr. Patil. "Thanks for helping us out, Chirag."

"It was my pleasure, Allie. Are you sure it is safe for you to return to your flat?"

"Yeah, I'll be all right," she snorted. "By now they've either broken out of the circle and left, or they're willing to be reasonable. If they aren't, I'll break their wands and call the bobbies and let them deal with it. B&E, home invasion, burglary…" she shook her head and tsked twice.

He laughed, "Let us know if you require help."

"I will," she said somberly, then headed for the fireplace and disappeared in the same way Dumbledore had.

"So, uh, I guess I'll take care of dishes," Harry said.

"Nonsense, let the dishes take care of themselves," Mr. Patil said, pulling out his wand. "Watch." He rapped the table smartly with his wand. The dishes shivered. Then the dispensers and a platter with a solitary, somewhat sad-looking, pancake wandered off to put away leftovers. One glass began to hop around the table collecting the silverware, and the plates began to neatly stack themselves for washing.

"Now," he said, drawing Harry's attention away from the self-cleaning table service. "I'm sure you have many questions. Anjuli and the girls will more than willing to help, starting," he grinned, "With finding you some appropriate robes to wear tomorrow."

\|/\|/\|/

Albus stared gloomily into his fireplace. He could feel his plans starting to slip and he had no idea why other than suspect that she was involved, which was nonsense. Her magical signature was quite distinct. Matching it would have been simple if she'd ever visited Harry before. Harry's family not telling him anything about magic had taken him initially by surprise, but on reflection it should not have. Petunia had lost her sister because of it, some fear was perfectly understandable. However, the hostility Harry displayed was surprising, as was the way he'd implied ugly things happening at the Dursley household.

That was nonsense of course, he'd exchanged regular owl-post with Arabella Figg and she hadn't reported anything like the bullying and lack of care by the Dursleys. After all, they left the boy with her, didn't they? Neglectful parents would have shut him up in the house if they'd both needed to be out for some errand or other. And the way he'd said that they wouldn't be worried about him…but he had taken care of that with a short letter to Petunia and added that he'd be spending the summer with the Patils. They were a good wizarding family and perhaps some acclimation to the wizarding world was in order. Petunia would no doubt be upset by Harry missing the last weeks of his muggle school, but she'd recognize the need for Harry to be comfortable in his next scholastic environment.

Which left the girl.

She had had a point about Draco Malfoy, he admitted, he was the son of a Death Eater convicted or not. But he didn't have the power to decline a person because of who their parents were or what they were accused of doing. Besides, the fact that their parents were Death Eaters made it even more imperative that they attend Hogwarts where they could have a safe, stable environment in which to grow and learn. They'd have a better chance of avoiding their parents' mistakes at Hogwarts than they would at Durmstrang which was where most of them would end up if they weren't accepted to Hogwarts.

In a way he'd been fortunate that few of the convicted Death Eaters had had children (or at least openly and acknowledged children) of school age. He could only imagine the flocks of owls he'd receive if he'd had to accept, say, Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter. Even if Ms. Thorne kept quiet about who her father was—not impossible considering her apparent apathy for the man, but he was from a rather prominent pureblood family—it would come out sooner or later. It couldn't not come out. It had been a secret kept too well for its own good, and would be too sensational to keep from the papers.

And then there were her abilities. Most people whose magic expressed itself so specifically had a difficult time, at best, with learning other types of magic and closing magical channels had very little to do with it. People who could wield all kinds of magic so naturally were the source of stories of mages. Trying to teach someone who had so different a way of actually performing magic would likely prove problematical and he could only speculate about the problems with her year-mates in regards to her greater age and the very different way of spell casting.

And none of those worries touched upon what her magic could actually do. Hormonal teenagers were hardly the sanest examples of humanity and she could seriously injure or perhaps even kill with a thought. Chirag, who Albus knew thought of her as a daughter or perhaps a favored niece, had been concerned enough to ask her to find somewhere else to live shortly after her eleventh birthday.

Chirag had reported that she had found a master to apprentice herself to, but had never given him a name. Worrying, especially since he had no way of knowing what else her master had taught her besides how to control her magic. Her mind had been blocked to him, not the normal shove of an Occlumens pushing out a Legimancy probe, but it was like looking into a dark well and not being able to see the bottom. He could feel her mind but he couldn't get even the most surface of thoughts, and as far as he could tell she hadn't even reacted to his gentle mind-probe and he was reluctant to put enough power into one so that he could.

He stood. He had told Harry that accommodations could and would be made for his friend, and, truth be told, a part of him had been very proud of the young man for standing up to him for his…friend, that way. But it meant his plans would have to change. He had no way of determining how the girl would influence Harry, but at the same time he had to make sure Harry attended Hogwarts.

The stone would still have to come to Hogwarts, of course. It had gotten too dangerous for it to be left out and exposed, even in someplace secure as Gringotts. Finding the mirror he was looking for was taking more time than he'd anticipated, but the other security measures were almost fully in place. Yes, the stone would be quite safe inside the walls of Hogwarts and Minerva's concerns aside there would only be a very slight risk to the students. It wouldn't be even as big a risk that would come with having Ms. Thorne attend.