He watches the last Ravenclaw student leave the classroom and listens half-heartedly as his father says goodbye to Remus. When his father looks over and tells him to say goodbye, he replies demurely 'goodbye Remus' and then he follows his father into the hallway. His father is giving him an appraising look but Devlin avoids the gaze – he doesn't want his father to see how much the three curses bothered him.
"Aren't we supposed to go back to the Headmaster's office?" He asks, as they get further and further off the path they had taken beforehand.
"I promised you we'd have some fun, didn't I? We're headed to the Quidditch Pitch to do some flying." His father is grinning. Devlin frowns.
"I think the game is stupid," he says matter-of-factly. His father's smile turns into a pained expression and he seems to push himself to keep walking.
"Is that so?" He says, forcing his voice to remain level.
"Yes. It's all about being competitive over something that doesn't matter at all." He shoves his hands into his pockets and grins despite himself: soon his wand will be back where it belongs.
"Right…" But Devlin can hear in his father's voice that 'right' hadn't really been what he'd meant. "Well, we're here."
"I didn't bring my broom though."
"No, I remembered them. I took the charms off, but your mum made me promise to put some safety spells directly on you – stand still, okay?" He nods and his father raises his wand and Devlin feels like someone has glued strings to each of his limbs, then the sensation vanishes.
"So, ah, do you know how to mount a broom?" Harry asks once he's unshrunk the broom and handed it to Devlin. His son gives him a look and then slowly, a smile spreads across his face.
"Yeah, course I do. We had to learn how to use them, in case of an emergency attack." His father nods, but still looks sort of uncertain. So Devlin extends his hand over his broom. He feels his magic flow into his hand and then into the air. The broom soars into his grasp. In one fluid movement, he mounts the broom and kicks off.
He'd forgotten how freeing it felt to simply fly. He twists midair and suddenly instead of a slow ascent he is going almost straight up. He forces his head upward so that he can look at the approaching clouds and smiles. A moment later his father is right beside him, laughing.
"You didn't tell me how good you were!" Somehow his grin seems more real, more full of life, than it had back in Remus' classroom. Devlin flashes him a smile.
"You never asked!" He shouts back, above the wind. He glances at his father for a moment, and his father's eyes widen knowingly at the challenge in his eyes.
He kicks up and suddenly his broom is pointed towards the ground and his father is shouting: "No, Devlin! Your mother is going to kill me!" But he's determined to show his father just how good he is at flying. He pulls out of the nosedive with only seconds to spare, and lands lightly on the grass. He can't help it; laughter works its way through his gut and up his throat and out his mouth.
His father comes running towards him. He does a once-over with his eyes to make sure his son is uninjured and then rolls his eyes.
"Please don't tell your mother that you did that…" he mumbles. But Devlin isn't listening to him; he's staring at their audience. There are a bunch of First Years, with an instructor, there mouths open in wide O's of amazement.
"Hello Madam Hooch!" His father shouts across the field, and begins dragging him forward with him. "Sorry – I checked for practices but it entirely skipped my mind to check for First Year classes!"
There is a smile on Hooch's face. When they get close enough, she shakes his father's hand and brings him into an embrace.
"Harry! What a nice surprise. And you must be Devlin," she says kindly.
"Yes, Ma'am" he says politely.
"Where did you learn to fly that way?" She asks. "The last I saw you, you were on a little boys broom that couldn't go a foot above the ground!"
"Magical things just listen to me, brooms included," he says softly, being honest. But it wasn't the answer the professor was expecting, because she frowns a bit.
"Well, I'll be sure looking forward to having you in a couple years." He figures she is talking about when he would attend Hogwarts, so he nods politely. "We won't be using the higher air, if you want to continue, Harry."
"That's alright, Madam Hooch, I promised Hagrid we'd stop by for a bit of tea."
"Well, it was nice to see you, Harry! You and Devlin should come to the next game. It's Gryffindor vs. Slytherin!"
"I'll try to remember," Harry says over his shoulder, waving goodbye. When they'd left the pitch, he pointed out the little cottage to Devlin.
"That's Hagrid's hut."
"Whose Hagrid?"
"Oh, you'll remember him when you see him. He's impossible to forget. Dumbledore told me he'd be feeding the Thestrals." So his father leads him across the grounds and in towards the Forbidden Forest.
"Don't go here when you start attending Hogwarts without an adult – it's forbidden for a reason," he warns.
A couple yards later and Devlin can hear a distinct booming voice. He knows it belongs to a big kind man, but can't match a face to the voice.
"That'll be Hagrid," his father says enthusiastically.
Devlin scrunches his mouth, trying to remember the man.
"Hagrid?" His father shouts, the sound getting lost in all the trees. Or so he thought.
"Is that ye Harry?" Comes a booming response. "I'll send Fang ta get ye." A few moments later a great grey dog comes lumbering lazily towards them. His father extends a hand and fondly scratches the dog's ears.
"Hey Fang you old boy. Will you show us to Hagrid?" Fang turns around and leads the way back to his master.
They reach a clearing and finally Devlin can see the half-giant, who is throwing out slabs of meat onto the ground.
"Devlin, say hello to Hagrid," But Devlin can't look away. The half-giant has made it all the way across the clearing without Devlin noticing. His eyes are locked fearfully on the things Hagrid had been feeding.
"What- what are those?" He asks, struggling over the words.
"The winged horses?" His father asks, as if there should be any question about what Devlin is asking about. As if he'd only just considered their presence! And his voice is full of sorrow and anger and sadness. Devlin isn't sure why he should be so emotional about Devlin seeing something that he'd known he'd see! Why hadn't he warned him?
"Yes, them!" He says softly, trying to steel his emotions.
"I didn't think you would be able to see them," his father is whispering, coming over to him. Devlin looks up at him incredulously, as if to say 'how could you possibly think I wouldn't see them?'. "They are visible only to those who have seen death."
Devlin tries to digest the information. A little one, still wobbling on it's feet, approaches them and looks at him. He can feel it's magic reaching out to him. It is not an evil magic. It is not rough or dark or mean. He puts his hand out towards the small beast, assuring it of his friendliness. His father has stopped breathing. Hagrid is just beginning to say 'not sure if I'd be doin' 'at', but then the little beasts head brushes across his hand, nudging him softly. Asking to be pet.
"Animals like me, they talk to me – the magical ones," he says to the two pale, unbreathing, adults. "She didn't understand why I was afraid."
There is joy in Hagrid's eyes, as if he understands what Devlin is saying, but there is fear in his father's eyes, as if he's said something wrong. Maybe when they have that talk, his father will tell him he doesn't want Devlin to talk to animals…
"She 'ure does like ye!" Hagrid says happily. "Ye would't want ta feed 'er, would ye?"
"I guess…" Devlin says softly.
OoOoOoOo
Back at the little hut, Hagrid eagerly (and gently) grabs a box that has some things piled around it 'ta stop Fang from nosin' 'round' and lays it on a chair. When he opens it the sound of kittens mewing and meowing fills the air.
"Here, look at these little things. Arabella gave them to me ta find homes fer. Aren't they somethin' special?" His father is laughing softly while Devlin leans over the case.
"They're very odd," he says softly, frowning at them.
"No, no, they're plenty nice," he says, taking one out and handing it to him.
The small bundle of fur looks up at him and sneezes.
"She doesn't like me…" He says, quickly shoving the kitten back at Hagrid. "I think she smells me…"
"Right," Hagrid says, sighing and making to close the box. "I hadn't thought of 'at."
But before he can completely close the box, one kitten jumps out and clings to his clothing, perching itself on his shoulder. It rubs against his cheek and Devlin feels it's magic rushing out to meet his own.
Not human, it seems to say, it's large unblinking eyes regarding him intently.
"It's stuck to me," he says softly, when he tries to pull it off to hand back to Hagrid. It digs its claws in more and then purrs in his ears and Devlin swears he hears it say 'mine'. But he knows it isn't him that hears it, it is his wolf, which is awakening quickly.
Hagrid tries to pull the cat off, to no avail. Devlin yelps in pain the harder he tries.
"What is this thing?" He asks, looking at his father.
"A half-Kneazle," his father responds, reaching out to pet the brown tiger striped cat. It allows him. "How much does Arabella want for one, Hagrid?"
"Just take 'er, Harry. Arabella has a soft spot for ye, ye know."
"Who is Arabella?" Devlin asks.
"My old babysitter," his father responds, smiling.
"Can she get this thing off me?" He shutters when he hears it, through it's magic, purr 'no, mine'.
"Er, I don't think so. But I think if we were to tell the little furball that we'd bring it home, it might let you carry it in a less painful way, yes?" The 'furball' is looking at him intently.
"Well?" Devlin asks it pointedly. It jumps off of him and onto his father's lap, where it sits and begins cleaning it's paw. "Ha, now it'll be stuck to you!" Devlin teases, grinning. The cat looks up and it's wide moss-green eyes stare pointedly at him, almost as if it is threatening to be come stuck to him again. He backs up.
"I thought ye liked animals," Hagrid says, pouring them all tea. The mug is so big that he can't get his hands around the rim. His father looks over and smiles in a friendly mocking sort of way.
"I do…" he says softly, still looking at the Kneazle. "But…it's odd. Animals do what I want, but it won't listen to me."
'It' looks up from it's grooming, jumps onto the table, and begins to drink Devlin's tea. 'mine' it's eyes say, loud and clear to his wolf. His wolf is frowning in confusion.
"Are ah, Kneazle's very intelligent?"
"One of the smartest pets ye can have!" Hagrid exclaims proudly. Fang looks up from his cushion and 'huffs' indignantly.
"They're also good at telling whether someone means you harm or not."
"Are they ah, possessive?"
"I think they're like any other magical animal – they choose their owner."
oOoOoOoOo
"Is there anywhere else you'd like to see before we leave?" He asks. They had left the kitten with Hagrid after his father had promised to floo back to Hagrid's hut that evening to get her.
"Could we see the library?" His father's smile fades a little and he shrugs.
"Yeah, sure!" Devlin tries to ignore the false cheer drenching his voice as he leads them towards the library.
Somewhere between the Great Hall and the Library, Hermione Granger spots them in the hallways and shouts out: "Harry Potter, you didn't tell me you would be visiting!"
Harry turns at the voice, smiling and waiting for Hermione to reach them.
"Did you even plan to say hello?" She asks, finally reaching them.
"Well…er…no…"
"You didn't even tell me you were coming today!"
"Yeah, I know. I kinda forgot myself, though. Dumbledore had to remind me I'd scheduled this like three months ago."
She seems to just notice the boy standing beside him. They've only met once or twice.
"How are you liking Hogwarts, Devlin?"
"I like it just fine," he says softly, but in reality he wants to drag his father away from her to the library. "Dad was going to bring me to the library," he hints, sending his father an impatient glance.
"Ooh, that's my favorite place at Hogwarts. Come on, I'll show you." And she reaches out and takes his hand, a grin on her face. Walking right next to her, hand in hand, makes him breath in her scent and he scrunches up his nose at the memories the smell brings. She'd always gotten him books for his birthday. She was married to Ronald. She babysat him a lot. She had a cat that looked like a lion. She'd gotten him Zee's collar that was charmed to keep the dog in their yard.
But there is something more, something different. His eyes widen and his eyes spins around to look at his father questioningly, but his father just glances back at him, confused about his regard. There is only one female Death Eater and Grandfather says she is too 'eager' to be left alone with a child. As such, he's never known this before, and isn't sure how he knows, just that he does. If it's this obvious, she must know too.
He lets her lead him to the Library and lets her open the doors. His eyes widen in awe and he lets go of her hand gently and simply looks at it all.
"It's amazing!" He says in a hush whisper. Some eyes turn to him but then quickly turn back to their books.
"It is, isn't it?" There is a smile on her face. "You know…I used to watch you a lot for your mom and dad, if you ever want to come read some books…you could always hang out with me." He hugs her.
"Thanks!" He whispers. The different scent is making his head spin a bit – his wolf keeps whispering in his ear to be nice because one is always nice in situations like this.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?" She says, smiling down at him as if something missing had returned to her.
"What are you gonna name it?"
"Name what?"
"The baby, of course."
She stops breathing for a moment and turns her head a little, looking down at him in pure confusion.
"What baby?"
He tips his head.
"Ah," he frowns, certain he must have misspoken and they're having some sort of misunderstanding, "yours."
"I don't have any children," she says, relaxing a bit.
"Well if you did they'd already have names," he says, "I meant the one in your tummy." Surely she'd known. But apparently she hadn't, because she goes quite pale.
"What?"
Behind her his father is chuckling, but he stops as soon as Hermione's eyes land on him.
"Sorry," he says, raising his hands in a show of surrender, "It's just, he's doing it all so innocently. It's hilarious, trust me."
"Harry James Potter, this is not 'hilarious'." She turns back to him and in a soft, sweet voice says: "Devlin, sweetie, what do you mean a baby in my tummy?"
"Well…I can't see the baby, but I think that's were they're supposed to be…"
"Yes, yes, but why do you think there is one in my tummy?"
"Oh!" Now it made sense, she didn't know and she thought he was just being silly. Maybe she thought he was calling her fat like Quincy had once said someone had made the mistake of doing with his wife when she wasn't pregnant. "I don't, but my wolf does. Your scent is different."
"Oh, I see…" but it is clear that she wasn't as comfortable as her words make it seem.
"Can I go look at some books?" He asks his father, eager to get away from her. He's not sure what to do next and neither is his wolf. Obviously, he's done one of those 'wolfish' things that humans find uncomfortable.
"Yeah, sure. Give a shout if you get lost. Don't go through any doors without me." He nods and scurries away. He can hear Hermione whispering feverishly about 'how to tell Ronald'.
For a time he walks around browsing the books, until he wanders upon row after row of newspapers. There is a row that says 'Daily Profit Achieve' and suddenly a memory springs into his mind.
We've discussed this before, Devlin. You're father isn't looking for you. He gave up.
It hadn't been the only time his Grandfather had said so. He's often said that his father had known who had kidnapped him and never once sought his revenge. 'I punish those who dare to raise their wand to you, but Potter has never laid a finger on Mr. Malfoy.'
He looks over at Hermione and his father, still deep in conversation, and steps into the isle. He reaches a hand out slowly to brush across the papers as he passes. If his father really had looked for him, the papers would have published about his struggle. He would have made it public.
He finds the year of his kidnapping and begins to work his way backwards. If it were important, it would be on the front page.
And then at last he sees his father's face and his mother's face and Uncle Sirius and Remus and Ronald and Hermione and him. Except he isn't standing there with all of them, he's laying down, in a casket. The photo is grainy and Devlin expects no one there had known they were being photographed. Along the side of the column is a picture of him as a younger child with his father, dressed in his Auror uniform. His eyes jump to the headline.
DEVLIN POTTER'S FUNERAL HELD AT GODRIC'S HALLOW TODAY.
Devlin Potter, kidnapped by You-Know-Who almost three weeks ago, is now confirmed dead. The body was portkeyed into the Ministry, not only rising alarms about the child's death, but also about the Ministry's security. Before the press could arrive, the body had been taken away, but eyewitnesses say it was 'badly bruised' 'he had bruises on his arms and legs, like he'd been held prisoner' and that he was half-starved. It is assumed that he was brutally tortured to death.
He was buried today in Godric's Hallow next to his grandparents. Harry Potter remains out of the office and unwilling to speak…
His hands are shaking and his vision is swarming and he only just manages to shove the newspaper back at the sound of approaching footsteps. His father rounds the corner, still smiling.
As always, I hope you like this chapter. I have the WHOLE next chapter ready at this point. PLEASE REVIEW so I can post the next one! I also have about five pages of the chapter AFTERthe next one written... come on guys!
In other news, next week I'm going to start looking for a beta reader. I want clean up any little mistakes and I also want to post it on some different sites. Once I get one, I'll try to keep chapters coming out as quickly. Honestly, I usually have the next chapter entirely written before I post this next one, but I just like giving it some time to simmer. :)
In the near future: The Talk, why Devlin saw the Thestrals, more about the kitten, More about Devlin's reaction to the article, etc
Anyways, please review!