At around ten o'clock that morning, there was a sharp rapping at the Woodwards' front door. When Harry answered, he couldn't help but smile broadly at the sight of his godfather and Defense teacher. "Sirius! Remus! How's it going?"

"G'mornin', pup," chuckled Sirius as he tousled the lad's dark, unkempt hair. "Remus and I are about to pay the Vancouver wizarding district a little visit… we thought we'd see if the lot of you wanted anything beforehand."

"Actually," replied Harry, his eyes wide with wonder, "I was rather hoping that you'd take us with you… if you're cool with that."

"Did your Uncle Roger give you permission?" asked Remus. "Merlin knows, I don't think he'd appreciate you sneaking off behind his back…"

"I asked him last night," replied Harry. "He didn't seem to have any problems with it, but he wanted to be sure you two were cool with it." He nodded toward the staircase behind him. "I think he's in his study, if you want me to go fetch him."

Remus smiled. "If you don't mind, Harry."

Perhaps two or three minutes later, Roger descended the steps to greet his fellow Marauders. "Good morning, you two. Would you care to join me in the kitchen? The coffee's still plenty hot; the missus can brew some tea if you'd prefer…"

"I s'pose a spot of tea would be nice, Rog," admitted Sirius. He let out a soft, sneaky chuckle. "Rhonda makes the best spiced chai." He gave Roger a rather wistful expression; the lines of premature aging bunched around his eyes. "You're a lucky bloke. You found a girl that loves you in spite of your gifts… Merlin, maybe even because of your gifts. Poor Lily didn't have the luxury of choosing her Muggle family…"

"Her parents were all right, if memory serves," recalled Remus fondly. "Mister and Missus Evans wouldn't stop gushing about how wonderful Lily was, how proud they were of her." His jaw clenched somewhat, recalling Lily's other relatives. "Her sister Petunia, and that ogre of a husband of hers… Virgil – no, Vernon, are another matter entirely…"

Roger let out a soft groan. "Those Dursleys didn't seem particularly interested in attending the wedding… they kept referring to us as, 'their lot', like we're not totally human or something."

"The one time I spoke with Petunia," added Sirius, "was when Lily and James just announced their engagement… she had something stuck up her bum for sure. I'm not rightly sure what caused the falling out between the Evans sisters, but I'd reckon it's Petunia's jealousy of Lily's gifts more than anything…"

***FLASHBACK – June 1978***

There was a gathering of perhaps seven or eight people surrounding a round oak table in the back corner of a small, dimly lit pub in Muggle London – not all that far from the Leaky Cauldron. Indistinct chatter could be heard from the table, along with the occasional ever-so-slightly intoxicated bursts of laughter. Most of the party appeared to be in good spirits, save for a young woman with chin-length dishwater blonde hair.

Although she was in her early twenties, her stern demeanor and sharp features made her look closer to thirty. Unlike the rest of the group, she sat quietly – perhaps even disdainfully – next to her younger sister, to whom she bore only the faintest physical resemblance. Her lips were a thin, straight line; they only parted every few minutes to take a sip of some exceptionally dry Chardonnay.

On her other side was a strapping young man of perhaps eighteen or nineteen, with shaggy chocolate hair and mutton chops. He was the only person at the table with a significant amount of facial hair, with a thick horseshoe-shaped moustache and a week's worth of stubble covering much of the rest of his cheeks and chin. He was certainly intoxicated, as evidenced by the dozen upside-down shot glasses on the table in front of him; he was also the quickest to laugh whenever someone cracked a joke – no matter how corny or bawdy.

He raised yet another shot glass of cheap rum across the table. "To Lily and James," he declared, unabashed. Nearly everyone else did the same, except for the blonde woman, who halfheartedly raised her glass to chin level, then set it back down again, without saying a word.

This did not go unnoticed by the man on her right. "What's eatin' ya, love?" he asked her with only partial concern. "You've hardly said a word all evening… aren't you happy for your sister?"

"I am happy for Lily, Black," the woman replied coldly. She sighed, and took a delicate sip of her wine.

"Cor, Tuney, you seem bloody miserable," replied Sirius. He was unable to resist the urge to snicker, then pointed to her wine glass. "You've been nursing that same glass of wine for an hour and a half." He shrugged. "You need to loosen up a little… nothing a couple of shots of rum or bourbon can't cure. On me."

Petunia eyed Sirius supciously. "I hope you're not hitting on me, Black."

Sirius just chuckled. "It's a distinct possibility, Tuney love."

Petunia shot Sirius a menacing glare. "You'll do well to remember that I'm a newlywed… you're lucky Vernon's not here to put you in your place."

Sirius waved his hands in mock deference. "Big Bad Vernie… what's he going to do, sit on me?"

Petunia's eyes narrowed further. "That's not funny, mate. I'd stop right now, if I were you…"

For the first time that evening, Sirius' expression changed from jovial to confused, perhaps even a little offended. "Apologies. I was just trying to lighten the mood is all… this should be a happy occasion, after all, and you've been nothing but silent and uptight. Cor, you've barely said a word to Lily all evening…"

Petunia waved an accusing finger at Sirius. "You have no idea what it's like growing up with a sibling you have next to nothing in common with." She gestured toward Lily. "She's gotten all the adulation and attention, while I've been little more than an afterthought…" She nodded at her sister, then forced an insincere smile. "I think I've had enough for one evening, Lil," she said as she reached for her purse and stood to her feet. "Congratulations… I – I think I need to be heading home right about now..."

Sirius stared at Petunia blankly for a moment. "Actually, I do," he murmured in a voice so soft that nobody could have heard it over the commotion in the pub.

Petunia then shook her head at the only other non-magical person in the party – Rhonda Woodward, nee Masters. She leaned over and whispered in Rhonda's ear. "If you were wise, Ronnie, you'd ditch these… pagans and return to the world which you rightfully belong… I can't believe Woodward's parents stole your daughter like that… you can fight that in our world, but there's nothing you can do in theirs."

Rhonda shook her head sadly. "I'm also just eighteen, Tuney… Roger and I weren't ready to have a family but Nova just… happened. No, I don't like that she was taken from us where we can't even watch her grow up, but if you think I'm going to turn my back on my friends and family just because I don't have their gift, then you're sorely mistaken. These are good people, Petunia. People that would give their very lives for you and me… can't you see that? I've chosen 'my lot' as you like to say, and it seems to me that you've chosen yours."

"Suit yourself," sniffed Petunia as she rushed toward the door, not bothering to look behind her.

***End flashback***

It wasn't long before the entire household assembled in the cramped kitchen. Sirius kicked off the game plan: "As luck would have it, one of the entrances to Vancouver's wizarding district is located in the sub-sub basement of the flat that I rent. I'm afraid the side car won't be big enough to hold the three of you pups and Remus, so you'll just have to follow us."

"I hope you don't mind driving, Rhonda love," said Roger. "I'm still not fully comfortable with those motorized contraptions."

"I don't mind at all," replied Rhonda, "but I still find it odd how everyone drives on the opposite side of the road in North America… it just seems so counter-intuitive!"

"It was an adjustment using the motorbike for its intended nonmagical purpose," Sirius added. "I've more or less gotten it down, but it takes a lot longer to get anywhere by staying on the ground."

"I've seen how you maneuver that… thing," blurted Roger. "It's a bloody miracle you haven't broken every bone in your body ten times over!"

"He hasn't broken any bones, but I guarantee he's broken countless laws… both magical and non-magical," added Remus. "And you're lucky, mate. You're not the one riding shotgun - my molars are still wiggling just thinking about hopping in that sidecar…"

Sirius shook his head and chuckled. "You'll get used to it, Moony."

"Not bloody likely," groaned Remus. "I'm half-tempted to ride with the Woodwards today…"

"Believe me, we'd rather you ride with us too," Rhonda said with a nod, "but with three kids in the back, there just isn't going to be enough room." She let out an exasperated sigh. "You have my condolences, Remus." She side-stepped the gang to reach for the keys dangling from the hook next to the refrigerator. "I suppose we'd better get going, as it takes nearly an hour to get to your pad, Sirius. If we leave now, we just might make it by the crack of noon."

"Last one to the car's a rotten dragon's egg," snickered Nova as she followed her mother out of the kitchen and to the garage.

Just a couple of minutes later, a series of eardrum-shattering brrrrrump, brrrrrumps could be heard from the Woodwards' driveway. The sounds the enchanted motorbike made as Sirius hit the throttle were even louder than a standard, unaugmented model – Remus couldn't help but remove his helmet momentarily so he could cover his ears, as the helmet did nothing to reduce the intensity of those triple-digit decibel roars. I'll have to ask Rhonda for some Muggle ear-plugs next time, he promised himself. I'm surprised Sirius can still hear at all…

Harry, Othniel, and the Woodwards followed them in their four-door sedan; Rhonda couldn't help but let a couple of four-letter words escape her lips as she struggled to keep pace with Sirius and his blatant disregard for Muggle traffic laws. When she finally came to a stop across the street from the apartment tower, she eyed each of them as she gave them a stern warn of caution:

"I'm not magical like the three of you, but I know enough of what goes on in those wizarding districts. I like to think most witches and wizards are good people, but just like in the non-magical world, there's shady characters you need to avoid. I want you all to stay close to Sirius and especially Remus, as he's also your teacher. This isn't Ilvermorny – if you get lost, there might not be anyone to bail you out. Now, I'll be back to pick you up at seven o'clock this evening… don't keep me waiting."

The three children wasted no time climbing out the backseat of the car. Harry practically flew to his godfather as he saw Sirius dismount his motorbike. Remus got out the sidecar a bit more cautiously, breathing a sigh of relief that the ride was over.

"You ready, pup?" Sirius asked Harry. "Diurn Alley is a bit different than Nessel Road or Diagon Alley… it's a nice wizarding district all things considered, but I gotta warn you… if you don't know any Cantonese, the merchants are more likely to swindle you. Many – if not most – of the wizarding population in Vancouver have roots in the Far East."

"That's interesting, because in Surrey most of the Asians are from places like India or Pakistan," remarked Harry. He tilted his head. "Do you speak Cantonese? Or any Chinese dialects?"

"I know a smattering of Cantonese," admitted Sirius. "I can ask for directions, or do a bit of haggling with the shopkeepers, but I'm nowhere near fluent."

"Wow," gasped Harry. "I've heard that most Asian languages are incredibly difficult for Westerners to learn… I'm amazed you know any at all!"

Sirius flashed a youthful smile. "When you immerse yourself in Asian wizarding culture, you can't help but pick up a bit of the lingo. Say, how does Chinese sound for lunch? It's been a while since I've had some…"

"Sounds good to me, Padfoot," replied Harry with a bright smile.

"Now that you mention it, I've a bit of a hankering for a big bowl of beef chow mein," chimed in Remus. He turned toward the children. "I'm sure Rhonda's already told you this, but we really do need to stick together. This is my first time to Diurn Alley as well, but Padfoot says there's a very disreputable neighborhood called Wheelbare Row that we really ought to stay clear of. From what I gather, it's comparable to London's Knockturn Alley… the dark wizards that do their business in Wheelbare Row are quite unlike the ones back in Magical Britain – I'd rather deal with the devil I know than the one I don't!"

"So, is Asian magic different than British or North American magic?" asked Harry.

"Vastly," Sirius said with no hesitation. "I think they have similar training, but their incantations and wand movements are unlike I've ever seen or heard. Their potions are different as well. They're a very secluded, scholarly sect, but have begrudgingly begun to adopt some Western techniques over the past century or two. For example, the traditionalists prefer using staves over wands to channel their magic."

He then led the crew to the lobby of the swanky apartment complex. He pointed to a trio of Muggle-looking elevators near the rear of the lobby. "It's the middle one we'll want to take," he advised. When everyone was inside, he made sure nobody else was along for the ride, and pressed a random-looking series of buttons. The elevator thusly descended to the basement level, then the sub-basement level, and when the elevator came to a complete stop, he pressed the button to the sub-basement level seven times in rapid succession. The elevator actually slid backwards about thirty feet, before descending at least another thirty or forty feet deeper underground. The elevator screeched to a halt, and when the doors opened, they somehow found themselves outdoors, on a cobbled road with bird and fish-shaped water fountains on either side.

Unlike Diagon Alley or Nessel Road, the shops and restaurants were not bunched together, but spread out. Some were of a Western architecture; others were reminiscent of East Asian pagodas; others still had a distinct Mughal design, rather like miniature versions of the Taj Mahal. Pomegranate and cherry trees – still in full bloom despite the chilly late November air – lined the avenues, and numerous bonsai trees lined the windowsills of many a shop or café.

"This is Diurn Alley, in all its glory," said Sirius. He pointed a hand ahead and slighty to the right. "Stanley Wu's café is just a few minutes up the road. He specializes in Cantonese seafood, but he can make you just about anything east of Istanbul… Nova, you're a tea connoisseur, right? I recommend the Himalayan yak butter tea… it's unlike any tea you've ever had, but it's utterly delicious."

"I usually don't stray far from Irish Breakfast or chai, but I'll try anything once," replied Nova.

Sirius chuckled. "That's the spirit."