A/N: tiny little filler chapter, sorry it's been so long. I'll get to the good stuff next chapter, and an appearance from one of our favourite Wizarding families...
Harry laughed, hard. Peals of giggles poured out, and he shrieked back at her, "But Aunty Darcy you're silly! Magic isn't real!"
She hushed him, quickly, and whipped her head around the café. The waitress had gone to do some cleaning or something in the back, and the little old lady, who was definitely- maybe not dead, but certainly not alert, did not move from her slumped position in her chair.
"It's a secret, sweetheart, but yes it's real," Darcy insisted.
Harry kept giggling at her, and the corners of her mouth started to pinch, trying desperately to kept them from turning up at the sound. She quirked an eyebrow and focused on the napkin next to him. Without a wand, she couldn't do much useful things. But with keen focus, will, and a little magic, an invisible hand seemed to pinch the flimsy paper, and pull it into the air, not unlike a little ghost puppet.
Harry had stopped giggling.
Mission accomplished, and feeling it eating away at her energy, she let the napkin drop in a heap on the table again. A dull pinch grew behind her eyes, warm and annoying, but she tried to blink it away and ignore it. She turned to the young boy.
"I'm a witch, Harry. And you're a wizard. And it is very, very important that you don't tell anybody, don't even mention magic to anyone. Not without speaking to me first. Alright?"
He nodded, still in awe.
"Now with that out of the way, we should be getting home."
Given Harry's reaction, Darcy now had a problem. Did she overwhelm him now by apparating home, or did she give him a 40 minute train ride to adjust, walk all the way through London to the Leaky Cauldron, then traumatise him all over again by pushing him through a lit fireplace to get home.
Decisions, decisions.
Harry, meanwhile, was frowning at the table, a disturbed look on his little face.
"Are you alright, Harry?"
He nodded, but didn't say anything.
"Don't lie, sweetheart I can see something is wrong," she pressed. "It's alright, you can tell me."
Harry shrunk further into his seat, before asking, "Was my mummy a witch too?"
That did it. Apparition it would be.
"She was, sweetheart. And she and your father were so excited to teach you magic one day. And I," she said, "am equally as excited. I'm going to teach you everything they knew, everything I know, and you're going to be a brilliant wizard, and make them very proud. I just know it."
She smiled at him, and he seemed to lift in his seat under her beaming gaze, just a bit. She got up, and put some money on the table for the waitress.
"Let's go. I'm going to take you home, to my house, and we can talk more there. I'll get dinner started, you can have a nap, and it's all going to be alright. You'll see."
Darcy had walked off without realising that Harry hadn't followed her out of the cafe. She stopped, and looked back through the window.
Harry had picked up the cups and saucers and bits off of their table, and brought it up to the counter, where the waitress was now standing. She looked gobsmacked as the little boy brought her all the dishes, and smiled. She saw the words, "Thank you," formed on her lips, and she gave a little wave as Harry shuffled out of the shop. Darcy didn't quite know what to say, except, "All ready to go?"
He skipped over to her, and nodded.
"I made mends!" He said. She smiled at him, nodding, and said, "Well done, Harry. That's very good of you."
Harry only smiled.
"Now what's about to happen is going to feel very strange. I'm going to take us home with magic, it might make your tummy or your head feel funny for a bit though, but we'll be at my house in a flash, alright? Now I need you to hold on tight and whatever you do, do not let go alright?"
He nodded, and hugged her just above her hips, holding on for dear life. She took a firm hold of his jacket, keeping her hand pressed to his back as she steadied her nerves, and twisted in place.
The two disapparated with a pop.