Neil closed the door behind him, scanning his room. His mailbox was filled with unanswered letters from friends, acquaintances and annoying advertisers. It had been a while since he had bothered to keep up with such social formalities and it really showed. Being promoted to team captain and being in the midst of such a befuddling case really ebbed away his free time and desire to enjoy his free time. His time at work was spent investigating a series of both mundane and serious cases, being supervised by the implacable and overtly enthusiastic Thomas MacLaggen (who was also simultaneously working under him— the Aurors had a flexible hierarchical system once you got past a certain promotion point), all whilst knowing that he really should be doing more, while his time outside of work he was recuperating from the exhaustion of it all. His friends from school were doing well - too well probably. They seemed to be moving on from him. More than ever, the past was a blur.
It annoyed him a little. He could have chosen a different path. He could have played Quidditch and done very well as a Seeker in Puddlemore United, but no. Now he was stuck with this. A thankless and frankly increasingly fruitless job. (Not fruitless— there was—)That other players there seemed to be enjoying themselves and dominating magazine covers did not irk him, or so he kept telling himself.
He was one of the youngest team leaders, but not a particularly accomplished one. And one with his authority barely in place, given the presence two opinionated, technically senior members of the Aurors, on his team. Cynthia and Thomas. Not that he did not like the company - well at least he did not resent it. But part of him felt like a fraud.
[There was, nonetheless, a good reason for him joining the first place. It— ]
Maybe he was. He was sitting on a trove of useful information that could potentially solve some of the most pressing mysteries and cases the Auror department struggled with. Yet he chose not to say anything. For fear of his own life? Out of a bizarre sense of honor and responsibility? He had no idea. He knew he did not want to cross Albus Severus Potter. He had experienced being in the man's presence and heard enough rumours to know that.
The thought of keeping these secrets gnawed at him, but he held it in.
He certainly had no one to turn to in terms of dealing with secrets like this. He had eventually managed to meet up and reconcile with his actual brother (not some wanted international criminal impersonating his brother) but he had said nothing, not wanting to disturb now Professor Lawrence Nott further. They had reminisced about the past, played card games and exchanged Charms notes and chatted pleasantly. There was no need to divert to darker topics. His parents would most certainly get a heart attack. They wanted nothing to do with things like this anymore, having booked a flight and hideaway in Mallorca to avoid the neo-Death Eaters— with much success, needless to say.
And he would rather endure the Cruciatus Curse ten times over than tell any of his teammates. Not Cynthia, not Thomas, not Morrison (who was nevertheless concocting his own theories about what is going on in the world), not Tobias (who was incapacitated) and not Lily either, albeit he did feel bad about concealing the truth from her. (He was afraid.)
There's a dark irony in the fact that the Wizarding World's Greatest Hero's son is now one of its most wanted criminals. Arthur and Sam had gone out tonight without him and without even asking, given that they seemed to have abandoned all hope of him having a normal social life. Neil decided to cook pasta for himself. A fitting way to past time.
In the room next to his, his flatmate Freddy was snoring. Freddy was a muggle and they had found each other by chance, both needing a relatively cheap apartment in a central location in London. Freddy was a nice guy that he had met through some muggle thing called the Internet that Arthur had gone through for him. It was some so-called portal that allowed one to find flatmates. Since there was no way he was living with parents or the Nott family's ancient matriarch Primrose Nott, he was going through the muggle route.
So far they had gotten along well and Freddy was rather unsuspecting about sharing a flat with a wizard. The guy was pleasant enough and would sometimes host parties during the weekends, most of which Neil was too tired to attend too. But one time the guy had asked him to go watch a muggle movie — something called Spider Man — and as Neil had nothing better to do, he agreed to it. Freddy was also a decent cook. He had never bothered to learn much about the muggle world and had neglected Muggle Studies in Hogwarts (which was optional anyways), but perhaps Freddy would be an interesting window into that world he was so little exposed to.
(Although given how much Freddy hated paying rent and grumbled about their landlady, he was sure that the guy would ask him to confound their landlady if the guy ever discovered that Neil was a wizard. Not that he ever planned telling Freddy. Confounding his landlady, however, was a prospect he would consider should rents rise astronomically.)
Shrugging, Neil turned on the kettle and placed a few tea leaves in a cup.
~X~
"Crap."
"That's not a spell, Cynthia," Neil suggested helpfully, to chuckles all around them. She rolled her eyes, but joined in the jesting. Their team had a rather sarcastic dynamic, courtesy to everyone's tendency to outsmart each other, mostly started by Neil himself but whose attitude had quickly dissipated to everyone else.
"The location is supposedly protected by wards, but we should be able to circumvent it's defenses if— according to the intel we received, their fireplace is unguarded," Morrison tried to assuage their worries.
"I'll go first," Thomas volunteered. That guy was always so sure of himself— granted, he ranked highest in seniority. He had good reason to be.
"No, I'll go," Cynthia rebutted. Their competitive dynamics never ceased to amuse Neil, although at present, it was getting rather unhelpful.
"Neither of you should go. That's because while both of you are more than equipped to deal with potential wizarding threats, this may require those who are more familiar with curse-breaking," Neil remarked. "Morrison and I will proceed."
Surprisingly, everyone else on the team conceded. Morrison nodded and stepped forward.
~X~
His ankle throbbed. He had leapt in front of Lily to intercept a curse — since when had he become so selfless and self-sacrificing? — and while their opponents were eventually subdued — perhaps it was more to do with the fact that the Healer in the team was in many ways the most important figure — Neil was rather badly injured there. If it wasn't fixed quickly enough, he would have spent the next few months with a limp or if not treated in time, bled to death through some esoteric mechanism.
Luckily, Lily was indeed an exemplary mediwitch — why did she leave indeed? — and she was casting healing spells and wrapping up his injuries in no time. "Thanks Lily," Neil found himself saying as they escorted the captured criminals to Azkaban, "I might have died there without you."
"I would have probably too," she said with a small smile. "That was some hit you took."
"Well, I'm used to nasty injuries … Quidditch and all…" he found himself mumbling. "One time, Jared Brecht hit my right leg with a blunger and I spent two weeks in the infirmary. Still caught the Snitch and won though."
Lily laughed. "Hey I remember that. It was my last year and trust me when I say we Gryffindors were NOT happy."
Neil grinned back as Lily smirked too. "What can I say— I really wanted to win."
~X~
Christmas celebrations at the Burrow had gone by in a blur and soon, the Potter family was in Egypt for their second-half of the Winter Break. Nigel grinned as he lodged himself in their family-sized bedroom. Mother had given him the larger bed, much to Andy's displeasure, after conceding that since he was growing taller, he probably did need the larger one.
It was his first holiday since Hogwarts and his family had loads of questions, but also mostly, they missed him and he missed them. Nigel was the second oldest child of his generation, with only Florian, Teddy and Vic's eldest son ahead of him and this meant he often took a more responsible role towards the younger kids. Florian went to Beauxbatons, though, instead of Hogwarts (courtesy to Vic's job in France and Teddy's role in the International Co-operation wing of the Aurors) but Nigel felt they were rather alike in temperament. They both liked books and reading and scouring through interesting stories. Meanwhile, Terry and Andy would be playing games together and pretending they were dragons and princesses. Aunt Rose was always noticeably protective of her only son. (Not that Draco wasn't either and whenever he did impose his presence on the Potter-Weasley family, he often bickered furiously with Ron about the best way to raise Terry.)
Personally, Nigel loved sitting on Grandma Ginny's lap and listen to her tales of Hogwarts, how she met Granddad the first place, how he saved her from the Chamber of Secrets, how they braved through the Second Wizarding War and also more light-hearted tales on the pranks her brothers played. Now he had his own — decidedly less interesting, nevertheless— stories to contribute.
None of that stopped his parents from asking questions and looking super interested, but the conversation always seemed to drift in an academic direction, to which Dad would respond with a joke about Ravenclaws being nerds and Mum would roll her eyes — but then proceed to ask him if, really, he did not end up breaking any school rules conspicuously. (And that on occasion it was okay to break them so long as it was for the right reasons and so long as he was not caught.)
"Well I'm going to be in Gryffindor just like Dad when I got to Hogwarts and I will go on fun adventures!" Andy declared, interrupting his train of thought. They were both sprawled over their separate beds. "Unlike Ravenclaw nerds — dad said back in his time all they did was read and study."
"Cool," Nigel nodded as he flicked through his book on History of Magic. Yes, he was reading ahead but since everyone he knew was doing it and he did find its contents rather interesting —particularly because this section did indeed cover Ancient Egypt, which he was visiting now — he was rather engrossed in it.
The Ancient Egyptians were some of the first practitioners of refined magic. They created some of the earliest incantations, discovering how to harness intention into instruction and to manifest it through magic, and set the rudimentary foundations for many contemporary fields of knowledge. They invited and observed an array of magical creatures. They gazed upon the stars and pondered the intersection of nature and humans. They even explored — this was before the Statute of Secrecy was a thing — what made wizards wizards. (Although Nigel suspected there was some gruesome acts at work in their precise studies that his book did not elaborate upon.) They experimented, pushing the boundaries of what was possible. They—
"Boo!" Andy shouted as she jumped onto his bed and jostled his book out of his hands.
"Andy!" He complained. He did not like being disturbed when he was reading something interesting. Alas, his rambunctious sister did not care. "I was reading something fun!"
"Let's go outside and do something fun!" Andy suggested instead.
"Why don't I read you something fun instead," Nigel proposed. She was always so persistent, but it didn't hurt to try. He didn't always like books but now that academics pertaining magic was actually interesting, coupled with the fact that they were in such a historical place, well, he found it difficult to stop what he was doing. The influence from his friends at school probably helped too. "It'll be about Ancient Egyptian 'gods'… or so that's what muggles believed they were."
"It better be interesting," Andy said with a deadpan. "Otherwise I'm telling dad you're being boring again." Still, she drew closer to him and listened attentively. His words piqued some interests. Perhaps not all hope was lost on his rowdy sister.
"Right, buckle up Andy, we're going to read about the tale of Osiris and Isis…"
~X~
James Sirius Potter rubbed his temples as he waded through the stack of papers on his desk in the hotel room. Even during vacation the intricacies of his job found its way to him. Well, actually, it was more complicated than that. He hadn't exactly elaborated to the children but he wasn't just in Egypt for purely vacation purposes. Gringotts had just acquired a subsidiary in Cairo and he was there to sign the agreement as well as familiarize himself with the staff over there. The agreement had just been signed, he was writing to his staff to inform them of the detailed process. Now all that was left were perfunctory cocktail parties.
Perhaps he could have made the trip alone but he didn't want to leave his family behind and Claire insisted on accompanying him anyway. He had wanted to take the twins but ultimately decided against it when his mother protested that they were quite literally 14 months old and that her and dad could do with some company now that all their kids have grown up and moved out. Fred — still an illustrious Quidditch player, though in the process of transitioning to a coach — had remarked that he's become an utterly domesticated family man and in all honesty the guy was probably right. He had a busy job that paid very well but, by Merlin, none of that would matter if he had no time to spend with his wife and kids.
His father had been a busy man back when he was young too, always away on dangerous missions as an Auror, often arriving home past midnight, exhausted and relieved. Mother —working as a Quidditch journalist at the Prophet produced much better work-life balance — had did the bulk of taking care of him and his siblings. Still, dad found as much time to spend with the rest of them as humanly possible. Holidays, with a few exceptions, well coming to think of it, copious exceptions, were often sacred. At the same time, while the esteemed Harry Potter was off saving the Wizarding World from various threats and while he really was doing his best to spend time with them, it just really wasn't enough when compared with all of his friends and cousins. Back in the day his siblings would often stay up late at night just to see their dad and most of the time, they would fall asleep before the man showed up. He didn't resent his father, on the contrary, he deeply respected the man's work. Still, James vowed he would do better. Weekends and holidays were off-limits and if work truly demanded him, he would bring his family along. (Granted this was much easier as a Gringotts banker than an Auror facing off dangerous wizards.)
James suspected this was ultimately why his fallen and estranged younger brother tried to join the Aurors— a simple desire to spend more time with his absent father whom he was so often compared to by everyone around him. And a desire to make him proud and prove himself. (And Lily had just joined too, out of some distorted obligation to both of them.) It wasn't so much ambition as despair. (Well okay maybe it was both.) Thinking about Al was upsetting enough. His younger brother had always been observant and painfully sensitive; James was the boisterous and nonchalant one. Al was worn down, broken and shaped by outside expectations; James normally brushed them off with ease, thrived in school and at work. He vowed he would fix whatever was broken in his family, the scars left by his wayward brother and increasingly absent sister. Not that what Lily did was comparable, but still, she barely saw them, being so consumed with work. Christmas was the one exception. James had to be the one to comfort his distraught parents, to convince Ginny that all would eventually be well, to wipe away Lily's tears and to persuade Harry to keep working as an Auror and not to be consumed with regret. James had to be the one to stop the whole thing from falling apart. Of course, he had help from his wife and his adorable children— that much was evident. He always knew how to cheer people up and Claire had admitted that was why she ultimately fell in love with him.
Speaking of Claire, she had been preparing her attire and makeup for a while in the bathroom. They would soon be off to a cocktail party and the children would be alone with Mimsy, their House Elf whom they took on vacation with them. Mimsy was very attentive and the children loved her.
"James," his wife called, "I'm almost done!"
Grinning he strode in to see her in a midnight blue dress, dark curls cascading down her sides and the rest of it pinned up into an elegant updo. "Well someone's pleasing to the eye," he murmured and kissed her on the neck, wrapping his arms behind her.
"I'm fat," Claire responded rather in a mock-despondent fashion.
He pinched her cheek and this caused her to roll her eyes affectionately. Those affectionate eye rolls have been a staple of their relationship for years. Ever since they got together their last year at Hogwarts, or maybe even before that. "You've always been and I like you that way."
"Hey!"
"Chubby and cute. I, James Sirius Potter, love my women chubby and cute!"
"James!"
He kissed her again, this time on the lips. "Remember when we first met? Your cheeks were so puffy and red when I slipped flobberworms into your potion."
"Yeah and got both of us into detention, idiot."
"Professor Slughorn adores you. All he did to you was make you supervise me while I wrote a whole essay on the properties of flobberworms," James quipped, smirking. Ah the memories. Those golden days. "Then there was the case with Baddock in Transfiguration. Man, turning your quill into a lizard was hilarious, although you cried and then said some very not nice things. He made me write an essay too but at least you were there with me in detention too."
"Remember what he said?" Her voiced switched to the pretentious, lecturing tone of their old Transfiguration, "James Sirius Potter — if you're going to be muck around with transfiguring inanimate objects to animals you might as well write an essay on the origins, history, properties associated with such magic. Twenty points off Gryffindor! And you Claire, it brings me no joy to deduct points from my own House but words like 'moron', 'Merlin's ass' and 'autistic retard' are most inappropriate. That will be five points off Slytherin. Both of you, detention!" She switched back. "Of course, I did lose my temper and it was kind of embarrassing. For some reason you lot seem to be actively trying to lose the House Cup. You, Fred and Justin especially."
"House Points and the House Cup are just Hogwarts conspiracies to turn us all into boring little teachers' pets!" James declared. "Our son takes it after you. Doing well on exams, scarcely any pranks and pleasing every teacher he sees..."
"I did tell him he could pull a prank or two so long as he doesn't get caught," Claire suggested defensively and James burst out laughing. "Not my fault he's not catching on."
"See, this is what you Slytherins don't get," James continued, "What's the point of pulling pranks if you DON'T lose House Points and actively rile up attention from others?!"
Claire rolled her eyes. "That is the most absurd and reckless thing I've ever heard."
"Admit it, I have a point."
"No, James…"
"Looks like I did not indoctrinate Nigel about the futilities of House Points young enough. I shall endeavor to do better with Andy and the twins!" James declared with bravado. "You know, I've also been thinking. A little prank tonight on some of those … pompous cocktail party guests might be—"
"No, Jaamesssss…"
"I'll turn their hair pink and everyone will laugh about it," he proposed, "I did it to some Irish bankers one other time. I turned their hair leprechaun green and everybody found it hilarious."
"If you end up losing this deal and anger your bosses—"
"I just got promoted. I'm my own boss now—"
"Well, there's still goblins and the overall head of Gringotts…"
"Okay, okay. Such a kill joy." James sighed loudly. It was all in jest of course, but it was most amusing seeing Claire take his prepositions genuinely seriously. "You're no fun. Was hoping I'd be able to enlist your help."
"Not tonight James, I'm a little tired and … not in the state to drink alcohol."
"Oh?"
"I was thinking about the best way to tell you this but…"
"Yes, darling?"
"I… think we might be having another baby."
"That's wonderful! You got tested?"
"Yup. Still don't know if it's a boy or girl but it's just one kid this time round. Thank Merlin."
"Can't wait to tell the others! Oh and that will be more opportunities to spread my philosophies and values on life!"
"I despair. But… but you're okay with this, right? Five kids? That's not too much for you?"
"Oh please, my Grandmother had seven! The more the merrier!"
"Ah yes, I'm basically a Weasley now."
"A Weasley and a Potter. We love large families."
"Yeah, so that's why I asked if I was looking fat. I'm three months in."
"Please, Claire dear, you always look chubby," James teased.
"Hey!"
"Don't worry I shall take my cute and chubby wife as we serenade around the Nile! You could be the fattest person in the world and I will still love you!" Of course, she was far from actually being fat. It was so corny but it made her smile.
~X~
Nigel groaned as they secured the cords around his body, which left very little wriggle room for him. Beside him, his sister was struggling too. He cursed himself for his own stupidity. She was shouting, ever impudent and reckless.
Sure, Andy was partly to blame. She had been feeling overtly adventurous and once Mum and Dad had left for a party at night that apparently did not allow young children, she had insisted that they do some exploration around the city completely unsupervised. Mimsy had fallen sleep. Nigel, deciding that his sister cannot wander off unsupervised and, admittedly, being curious about the city of Cairo himself, elected to go along with her.
Bad move.
At first things were pretty cool, they stumbled across late night bazaars, muggle tourist traps, surreptitious wizards blending seamlessly into the background. The pyramids beckoned in the distance, the cool air washed over their faces. Andy had squealed in delight as she recognized the riverbanks from their story books. ("This was where Isis finally found Osiris!" She had jumped excitedly.)
And then it all went dark.
When Nigel regained consciousness he heard his sister yelling at their captors.
"My parents will find us! They will kick your asses! Release us now!" Andy was still squirming and moving, trying to free herself. Nigel really admired her sheer audacity in front of people who appeared to be threatening, wizard thugs.
"Quiet little girl." A gruff voice with a thick Arabic accent grunted.
"I'm not afraid of you guys!"
"Siliencio!" A bright stream of light hit Andy and she could no longer utter sound. She twisted and turned as they bandied her mouth too.
He frowned at the men standing in front of him and then surveyed the location around them. It was some underground speakeasy, hardly the quietest place. Andy's shoutings barely registered amongst the music, chatter and commotion. There was the smell of perfume, cologne, cigarettes and alcohol in the air, as well as the latent stench of sweat. Groups of wizards cluttered together, engaged in their own clandestine conversations.
Somehow, silence was the only reaction Nigel could muster. He shot a couple of furtive glances at his captors again, who gazed at him impassively. They were waiting for something, somebody. More time passed before he finally uttered, "Why?"
"Your father's business dealings attracted its critics," one of them uttered cryptically, with amusement.
None of them in front of him elaborated further, much to Neil's frustration. "So a hostage situation?" He asked, trying to keep calm. He knew he was failing though because those in front of him — three burly men — were smirking.
"What do you think, boy?" There was a deadpan quality, which confirmed his suspicions. They meant to extract a handsome ransom from his father.
~X~
"No worries Ahmed, small favor for a friend," Al uttered while brandishing another Full House. "I win."
"As sharp as usual," the man in front of him chuckled, "Though I can't say I'm complaining. Small reward for your help earlier."
"Oh that was nothing." A casual, dismissive wave designed to convey nonchalance. Those around them guffawed.
"Kamel was giving us quite the headache, you had no idea," another man around the table interjected, "He was quite the Occlumens. We had no idea he was leaking sensitive information to Sphinx Corp. They say he was one of the best."
"I've had years of practice," Al remarked wryly. Admittedly, Kamel had been a difficult one to crack. Very difficult.
But every mind has its chink in its armor. In this case he had to resort to a spell of his own creation, the magnum opus of all the years he had wittingly and unwittingly spent delving into the Mind Arts. Immemorandus. He had tested it intermittently but never to the extent he did today. It compelled its victim to experience his or her worst single worst memory in a seemingly eternal loop and lasted as long as its caster willed it to — intention, after all, was key — and Albus had stretched it out for as long as he needed.
Sooner or later everyone breaks. It was a less flagrant form of torture. Far more targeted and elegant than the Cruciatus Curse, the stuff of brutes and sadists. Albus was no sadist; he didn't need to be one. Sooner or later, when undergoing one's most agonizing moments in life, the mind loses both the necessary stability and will to guard against incursions.
"Indeed, the information you were able to obtain from him was most invaluable," Ahmed remarked while flashing a Flush. Al had no such luck in countering it anyway and he found that winning too much against the wealthy, reputable CEO of Giza Holdings would antagonize the man. That would be most unfortunate, especially since the guy had given him his business card, a lucrative sum of money and his gratitude.
"Never saw this coming," Al replied. "Guess you win this round."
"He loves it when he wins," the guy beside Ahmed — Shafiq, he learned through a brief perusal — commented with amusement.
'Who doesn't?"
They continued well into the night. The Sphinx's Riddle was a most exquisite venue tucked in an unsuspecting corner, a place where the legal and illegal consorted and conspired. The centre of Wizarding Egypt's underworld. Al took another sip of his drink — the Fwooper— a rather sweet cocktail, which no doubt would have earned a few wry, restful comments. His sweet tooth was a product of his long friendship with Scorp— No— he won't dwell on that.
"Nundu Inc was not happy with Gringott's acquisition of its Cairo subsidiary, well, not all of them," Ahmed stated to his companions around him, "Old Mamadou thinks Gringotts got it at a discount."
"Which they did," Shafiq replied. "My sources hear that they reckon they can extract some concessions by pressuring the Gringotts representative."
"Nundu Inc… scary name," was all Al said.
Gringotts. He knew his brother worked in Gringotts and since the papers simply had no ability to leave the Potters alone, Al had learned the man was in Egypt too, much to his dismay. James could be in trouble— no. Nundu Inc, inspire of its menacing name, was still a well established company that at least needed to maintain a reputable facade. Murdering an employee of Gringotts, a senior employee to say the least, would invite wreck and ruin. But there are ways to pressure a man that did not involve murder or the threat of it.
"They're more impotent than diabolical or menacing," Ahmed snorted. "Their hapless family feuds have squandered so much of their growth potential. Reckon it's only a while till the rest of it gets acquired too."
"Speaking of acquisitions, what do you make of the attempted buyout of that muggle bank in Japan by those Japanese wizards… I mean, what were they even thinking?!" Shafiq exclaimed.
"Doesn't hurt to try," Al remarked with a shrug.
Soon, their conversation wandered far away from Gringotts, banks and acquisitions, into the realm of the developments surrounding the Statute of Secrecy, into— of all things — tomb robbings and Cleopatra's nose. After a few hours the men from Giza Holdings got up, shook Al's and left. It was a most beneficial dealing on all sides.
But something clouded his mind, a faint echo in the corner. A familiar magical trace. Al clutched the Locket around his neck, which did so well to conceal his own. (And more.) He frowned and shut his eyes amidst the scene around him. Panic, fear, indignation. He knew where it was coming from.
~X~
Sometimes, Nigel wished he would have the gall of his sister, who was too young to recognize danger, too audacious to comprehend the downsides of negotiating with one's ransomer. Are you sure you want this? He would have shouted, demanded, or even threatened. My Grandfather is the Head Auror of Britain, my Great-Aunt its Minister of Magic and my uncle its most dangerous criminal! If either of them find you, you're all screwed!
A quick succession of bright red spells, struck his captors before any of them had any chance to react. It was swift, precise and deadly. They were knocked out cold. "Really Nigel? Head Auror, Minister of Magic and 'most dangerous criminal?' One of those is not like the others."
"Uncle Albus!" He gasped.
"It's been a while," his uncle quipped while grinning, his emerald green eyes glinting with amusement. There was no hint of panic at all in spite of the dangerous, murky nature of their location. "Is that Andy?" He pointed to Nigel's sister, still silenced and shocked. If she could talk right now she would no doubt overwhelm Uncle Albus with a stream of excitable exclamations. "Sweet Merlin the last time I saw you, you were literally a fetus."
"Can you get us out of here?" Nigel asked, worried that people related to his captors would come for them.
"They won't. Those idiots were meant to bring you to them. They were waiting for someone to bring a portkey. Said person was robbed and currently in a frantic search for his own wallet. It was a muggle pickpocket too," his uncle commented, barely suppressing a chuckle.
Uncle Albus flicked his wand and the ropes around him and Andy were unbounded. He gazed at Andy with interest. "Of course, forgive me for my neglect," he whispered as he uttered a non-verbal spell.
"Oh my Merlin!" Andy declared. "I knew someone would come save us and kick their asses!"
"We can talk more about that when we get out of here. Both of you, grab onto my left and right arms. We're apparating in front of your hotel."
~X~
"You're our Uncle right?" Andy's earnest inquiries began almost immediately after they landed in front of their holiday dwellings.
"Yes Andy, though I believe we've never met in person."
"How come mum and dad never mentioned anything about you?"
Nigel cringed internally. He had been through this many times with his parents in the past it was almost becoming a cliche. "Andy, it's— it's complicated." Not that he really knew the full details anyway. It was more that his parents seemed quite distraught whenever he mentioned Uncle Albus. Plus mum made sure to emphasis how he should never bring up Uncle Albus in front of Grandpa, Grandma and the wider family. The one time he did, it made things so awkward.
But all Uncle Albus do was smile enigmatically and pinch his niece's cheek. "Your brother is right. It's complicated."
"Hey! You were so cool though! How did you do the? Those people just went right down! Wow! I didn't even notice at first! Can you get use ice cream?"
Nigel marveled at his sister's indomitable attention span.
"It's a bit late for ice cream," Uncle Albus uttered apologetically. "But I do have some caramel candy…" He pulled out two sweets, each for one of them.
Nigel unwrapped it slowly while Andy chewed on it enthusiastically. His sister loved sweets — so did dad. Mother was always reticent to give them too much though. "Those guys you stunned," Nigel asked warily, "What's going to happen to them?"
"Who knows? An anonymous letter tipped off a couple of Egyptian Aurors — but those guys make frequent raids at the Sphinx's Riddle anyway. The schedule is almost entirely predicable. In any case, if they remain uncaptured, they're in big trouble with their bosses anyway," uncle explained matter-of-factly.
"So we'll be safe?"
His uncle nodded and ruffled his hair. Somehow this reassured Nigel.
"Can I get more candy?" Andy asked.
"Of course, Andy." Albus handed her another caramel. She beamed back.
"My mum doesn't allow us to eat too many sweets," Nigel said as he chewed on his too.
"Neither did mine," quipped his uncle.
"How were your travels after Hogwarts?" Nigel inquired.
"So-so. Rabat, Casablanca, Palermo, Istanbul, Prague, Paris and now Cairo. Been busy." A smirk. There was a moment of understanding.
"I don't believe what they say about you," Nigel finally said. "What all the papers— what— You know what I mean."
His uncle pulled him into a hug but did not reply on that matter, instead switching topics, "How's school?"
"I'm doing okay I guess. I do really well in Transfigurations and Potions! I'm top of class! My Charms is so-so but my friend Conrad, he's super good at what he does. He helps me out. He's also on a doomed quest to figure out how to replicate the Marauder's Map too."
"Ah that map… Your father used to use it to pull all sorts of pranks. I got the Invisibility Cloak and James would beg me non-stop to team up with him. Mostly I said no but on occasion… You never know."
"Dad said he once slipped flobberworms in mum's cauldron just so both of them could be in detention together."
"Is that what they told you?" Uncle Albus laughed.
"Well… Mum rolled her eyes and said it was rubbish. But in a really affectionate kind of way so you never know."
"Your Aunt Lily saw them coming before everyone else. Before that there was never an argument they would miss with each other."
"They still argue a lot," commented Nigel, "But in a really affectionate kind of way."
"Most old couples do," Albus remarked with a sigh. "You mentioned you wanted to join the Quidditch team? Seeker was it?"
"I'd like to be Seeker, yes, but I won't mind Chaser too! I like both positions!"
"That's good to hear. I'm sure you'll do well in either," the man said warmly.
"Thanks!"
They stared at the expansive night sky on the steps of their hotel. It was late and silence reigned. "Andromeda…" Uncle Albus pointed to a constellation. "Your sister is named after that."
"Or the Greek princess," Nigel added, "The one whose parents chained to rock as a sacrifice to a sea monster but who is then rescued by the hero Perseus."
"Ah, of course. They may all be Wizards too. Thought that's only a theory."
"Conrad thinks all mythological stories were technically about Wizards. He's an interesting dude. He's also a conspiracy theorist though. He thinks Big Wand is real."
"Big Wand?"
"Yiannis says it's dumb and Yiannis is always the sensible one. Supposedly all the wandmakers are in some conspiracy to keep their businesses profitable and all but all sorts of weird theories spring from that."
"Well that's a new one."
"Karen is mostly on the fence though. Celeste, for some reason, is really taken by it. Marius says it's absurd but not impossible. Thaddeus really wants it to be true for some reason. I think Big Wand is rubbish though."
Andy listens to the two of them and blinks. She looks rather tired by now. "Uncle Albus, do you want to spend the rest of vacation with us?" There was an earnestness about her tone.
"I'm afraid I have other urgent matters to attend to," his uncle answered vaguely. "But I'll carry you to your front door, how does it sound?"
He squatted and gestured to Andy. She climbed onto his back, content. "Mmmm…."
"Be sure to tuck her in bed after I leave," he instructed Nigel, "I'm not sure I want Mimsy, your mother or your father to know I was there. Nigel, Andy, if anyone asks, you didn't see me okay?"
"But why?" Andy pressed. "I want to tell stories about how you came out of nowhere and stunned those kidnappers like woahhhh—"
"Shhh…. It will be our secret, won't it?" Uncle Albus held out a pinky.
Andy nodded and took it.
~X~
Mimsy woke up in the middle of the night, panicking. The children were gone. Master and Mistress Potter will be absolutely devastated! She would have —
Their voices sounded outside. She felt a sigh of relief. They merely decided to wander around the hotel or so it seems. Naughty children.
They were chattering excitedly.
Her heart dropped again.
There was a third presence along with them. A voice that whispered goodbye and good night before apparating. It felt so familiar. It can't be—
"Mimsy!" Andy said as she jumped into the room and into Mimsy's arms.
Nigel followed behind and closed the door. "Sorry," he whispered sheepishly. "We decided to do a little adventure and exploration."
"Children! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Mimsy shook her head and folded her arms as Andy finally stopped the hugging and rushed to her bed while Nigel handed her a lemon droplet as a token of apology.
"Please don't tell mum and dad we left."
Mimsy sighed. "Alright children."