The Potters

Despite finding himself sandwiched between Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald for the match, Harry had enjoyed himself. Japan trounced Spain in a 230 to 180 match. Isidora Cuello, Spain's seeker, had been the country's saving grace.

Throughout the match, Harry had raised his eyes. Almost every time, he found Grindelwald staring at him. At last, when the match was finished, Harry shifted and stared at him in turn.

Grindelwald had shiny, slicked-back, white hair and a matching, duck-tail beard that touched the collar of his silver robes. His eyes were blue as well, but his didn't twinkle. They sparked with amusement the more Harry stared at him, though.

"Enough, boy, show some respect."

Harry turned his head. There stood an old, blond man with a pointed face and cold, gray eyes. Behind him was a man, woman, and a boy around Harry's age. The boy curled his lip at Harry and Harry stuck his tongue out before returning to, who Harry assumed, was the boy's grandfather.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Grindelwald said.

Harry met his eye. "Do you expect me to show you respect? Do you expect any Potter to? Like if you saw a random Potter in the street, do you actually expect a bow or a kneel?"

Grindelwald glanced at Dumbledore, who hummed a tune behind Harry. With his eyes back on Harry, he said, "I see you haven't met Jonathan yet."

Harry tilted his head and Grindelwald sat back.

"Straighten your head."

Bemused, Harry said, "Why?"

"Is that your favorite word?"

Harry shrugged. "Grandmother says it is."

Grindelwald inhaled and Harry smiled at him. "Furthermore, the Americans and Kiwis already bow. It is only the English we have yet to bring to heel."

Harry nodded. "I think you'll get my father to do it. And his son."

"Do you speak of yourself?"

"Merlin, no, I'll die first."

Grindelwald raised his eyebrows. "Over a bow?"

"In the name dignity…"

Grindelwald got to his feet. "You are as intolerable and insolent as reported. You will only grow worse in the coming years. How…exhausting you stand to become."

"Thank you, sir, I really try my hardest already."

"Do you? Are you exerting effort or are you simply being yourself?"

Harry frowned. "That's an insult, but, no, I was being cheeky."

"Thank you for the explanation," Grindelwald drawled.

Grindelwald took to staring at Harry once again. At last, he said, "As annoying as you present yourself, I refuse to let opportunity slip through my fingers. Albus certainly didn't."

"We were hungry," Dumbledore said.

Grindelwald, again, looked at Dumbledore before turning his eye back to Harry. "I'll send for you soon, yes?" Before Harry could respond, he inclined his head. "Good. Enjoy your evening. Dinner in my rooms, Albus?"

Again, Grindelwald didn't wait for a response before walking away.

Harry turned to Dumbledore, who just got to his feet.

"Come. I must return you to Bartemius."

They left the box together and everyone stood the side as the past. When they got to the stairs, people, once again, parted to make way.

"I can get used to this," Harry said.

"Harry Potter isn't supposed to say such things."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not supposed to be talkin' to you either."

"That is untrue. Henry has always been delighted to speak to me. Even in his cell, he enjoyed mocking me and the state of my life."

Harry opened his mouth, but Dumbledore stopped and stared down at Harry.

Harry grinned. "I was just gonna say I don't think you want me to mock you."

Dumbledore brought himself up to his fullest height.

Harry felt his eyes widen. "You're tall."

"And you are unafraid of me. How fascinating." Dumbledore pointed down the stairs. "Let's finish our descent, so the rest can make theirs."

They found Mr. Crouch amongst the throng just beyond the stadium. The crowd parted, but Mr. Crouch stayed where he was.

Harry turned to Dumbledore.

"Until Shanghai, Harry."

Harry inclined his head. "Have a good evening, sir."

With that, he skipped over to Mr. Crouch.

Mr. Crouch kept his eyes on Dumbledore for a long moment. Harry even turned back around and waved. That made Mr. Crouch look at Harry at last. He took a step forward to tower over Harry.

"Do you people know I'm six and…not your height?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows. "Small. You're six and small and yes, I, at least, am aware of that fact."

Harry scowled at him.

"What happened to you this afternoon?'

Harry shook his head. "We had lunch like he said."

"He took you to his hotel room and you had lunch?"

Harry nodded. "Lunch and conversation."

Another step. "Why?"

"He said he wanted to get to know me."

"Why?"

Harry smiled. "Turning tables." When Mr. Crouch took another step forward, he giggled. "So serious. He said something about me being Zeus, him being Cronus, and Henry being Uranus."

Mr. Crouch's eyes widened and he leaned back to see Harry's face better.

"Can you take me to Uncle Charlie, please? I have to tell him something. Very important. Potter business. No offense."

Mr. Crouch brought him back to the hotel room.

Outside the door, Mr. Crouch took a moment to eye Harry then he held out his hand. "We will see each other again in a few weeks' time."

Harry shook the hand. "Why?"

"Because – I think…" He shook his head. "I won't answer that question today." He tapped the knob with his wand. "Go on."

He grabbed the handle. "Good night, Mr. Crouch."

"You as well, Harry."

With that, Harry skipped inside. He looked around to find that, this time, the room was brimming with people. Most of them stopped talking at the sight of him. Harry, however, only had eyes for Charlus. He bounded over to him then, for the second time that day, threw himself into Charlus' lap. "How was your day?"

"Harry!"

"Miserable and it's about to get worse."

Harry placed his hands on Charlus' face. "No, it won't."

"Harry!"

Charlus took a deep breath. Through clenched teeth, he said, "Answer your father, please."

Harry frowned, but spun around. He looked for James and, when he spotted him, said, "Yes?"

"You don't know how to speak when you enter a room?"

Harry made a face, but didn't really know what to say.

"Who should he have spoken to?" Charlus asked. "Are you standing there pissy because twice now he's entered this room and did not care to look for nor speak to you?"

"I'm trying to speak to my son, Charlus."

Charlus pointed forward. "Good thing that Albert is trying to get your attention then, isn't it? And don't you ever interrupt our conversation like that again." He waved his hand when James made to speak. "I don't give a fuck, James. He will never look for you in a crowded room just as you will never be man enough to have him in your house full time. Get. Over. It."

"I, however, am," Fleamont said.

Charlus sighed. "And now a word from the deceased."

An older man – one not quite as old as Fleamont, but maybe somewhat older than Charlus – laughed from the corner behind Charlus' chair. He had a head full of messy, gray hair and amber eyes. He waved his hand at Harry.

"Sterling."

Harry furrowed his brow, but waved back. "Err…Harold?"

Sterling inclined his head.

Fleamont cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but I was in the middle – "

"Bold of you to demand his attention after disowning and disavowing him before his first breath," Charlus said. "You waited more than six years to look at him, you may wait a few more seconds to speak to him."

Fleamont clenched his jaw. "Charlus – "

"Don't address me."

Fleamont took a deep breath. To Harry, he asked, "What happened this afternoon?"

"Be specific. I don't need to hear a lecture from you stupid ass son on respect because a six year old earnestly attempted to tell you all of what happened this afternoon."

Fleamont grit his teeth. "Between you and Prince Grindelwald and you and the King."

"Oh, well Egil pushed me and I punched him then Dumbledore took me upstairs for pork tacos, tepache, and mangonada." He turned around to Charlus. "I wanna come back here to eat a lot."

Charlus was all incredulity.

"You had lunch with Albus Dumbledore?" a nasally voice accompanied by an unfamiliar accent asked.

Harry turned around to see a middle-aged man with thick, black eyebrows had stepped forward.

"Yes. What accent is that?"

"Kiwi. New Zealand," the man said. "Why did you have lunch with him?"

Harry frowned and glanced at Charlus.

"Please, go on."

So he shrugged. "Because he wanted to get to know me."

The Kiwi sighed. "Charlus…"

It was Fleamont who said, "That's the truth. What else did he say?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and tried to figure out if discernment was something he should exercise. At last, he leaned over to whisper into Charlus ear. "He said he wanted to see if I was Zeus and if he was Cronus. He said I was a lot like him and two other people. I don't know who the fourth one is."

Charlus closed his eyes for a long moment then to Fleamont, he said, "For the same reason your wife left you for a couple of years."

Fleamont's jaw worked. Harry had no idea what his problem was.

"So hitting Egil is a non-issue for Dumbledore?" the Kiwi said. "What about Grindelwald? What about Zoltan?" To Harry, he said, "Tomorrow, you need to find Prince Egil and apologize."

Harry blinked at him. "Apologize? Does that mean something different in New Zealand?"

Someone – Taurus, Harry realized – snorted. Harry felt Charlus' body begin to shake. He looked behind him and caught Sterling laughing in the corner.

"I agree," another American said.

Sterling stopped laughing and looked to the ceiling.

He was younger than Sterling and older than James. Maybe a little older than Taurus, too. He looked like a younger version of Sterling.

This one pointed at Harry and Harry spotted the purple armband on his wrist.

Harry assumed he was meeting Jonathan at last.

"You could've gotten us all murdered today."

"Merlin, help me," Sterling said.

Harry made a face. "How?"

"Your actions have consequences and those consequences will affect the rest of us, especially playing games with the Grindelwalds – "

"That doesn't explain why you would die," Harry said patiently.

The American took a deep breath. "Payback for hitting his grandson."

"Your father wasn't killed when Henry, Frederick, Edward, and George tried to kill him, but you think Grindelwald is going to murder you because two kids hit each other?" Harry asked.

Charlus took a deep breath as the American turned impossibly red. "Now that the child has placed your ridiculousness into perspective, please, go back to your corners and shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Neither moved, however. "You need to reign this boy in, Charlus," the Kiwi said. "It may be ridiculous today, but years from now – "

"They still won't care about you," Harry interrupted. "If Uncle Charlie doesn't tell me your names, I'll never learn them because no one cares about any of you. They only talk about your fathers and grandfathers. Did Grindelwald ever say 'go fetch Benjamin Potter?' No, so what are you doing?"

The Kiwi swelled.

However, it was Maynard who said, "Your head is too big for your body."

Harry sniffed and looked down his nose at him. "Let me know when Grindelwald invites you over for dinner." He then made a face. "Why are you here? You aren't a Potter."

"Harry," James called.

"Charlie, I like this one," Sterling said before Charlus could speak. "Why is your dog in here, Fleamont? And why does he speak in business that isn't his to mind?"

For some reason, Fleamont smiled at Sterling before he turned to Harry.

Before he could speak, Maynard said, "My grandson is a Potter. That makes this my business."

"Dumbledore doesn't care about him either," Harry said.

"I assure you, boy, you don't speak for Albus Dumbledore," Maynard replied.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know what that means, but when I asked Dumbledore if he cared about Albert and Cepheus he said they don't pick his curiosity except how the affect me?" He shrugged again. "Something like that."

That was met with silence until Fleamont said, "Pique. They don't pique his curiosity beyond how they affect you."

Harry shrugged. "Whatever. I don't care either." He turned back to Charlus. "I see why you stay in Greece away from these people." He sniffed. "Can we go?"

"No, Harry, you're not going back with Charlus," James said. "You're coming back to England and we're going to figure out – "

"You aren't going to figure out a fucking thing."

James looked at Charlus at first breath, but it was Sterling who'd spoken.

Sterling got to his feet. "This has been entertaining; watching you, in all your delusions of self-importance, battle a child who's spent his day with the dignitaries you crave the attention of," he continued. "But now we must understand the words Harry spoke. Dumbledore is concerned about what he can grow up to be because he, a half-blood, was abandoned by his father and grandfather."

James paled, but said, "Did you hear what I just said?"

"I've heard everything you've said this evening, including your sorry attempts to get him to respect this."

Sterling looked Maynard up and down then curled his lip.

"You don't think he needs to respect adults? What kind of bullshit – "

"The same kind of bullshit that led you to name him 'Harry Potter,'" Sterling snapped. "No, I don't think a child named 'Harry Potter' ought to have a healthy sense of respecting someone just because they are older than him. That is a recipe for disaster."

"My grandfather isn't just anyone," Cordelia said.

Sterling looked down his nose at her. "He is nothing and no one to me."

"And who are you?" she asked.

Sterling brought himself up to his fullest height. "Sterling Potter. People may not know my first name, but they know my face to know the family name. Most will not know whatever his name is even if you tell them."

With that, he turned away from her.

Cordelia looked at her grandfather, but he had locked eyes with Charlus. Harry recognized Maynard knew he was outmatched and Fleamont's earlier amusement was a clear indication of where his loyalty lay.

Sterling was now, once again, addressing James. "You think you can bring this child home and stick him in a house where this frequents; where you are a coward and where your wife is what she is and everything will be well? That will the beginning of the end and in the end our murderer will have sat in this room."

"Harry isn't a murderer. He's a little boy – "

Harry tilted his head. Is that what Dumbledore was saying to him?

"Who deserves better than you for a father," Sterling interrupted. He turned to Charlus. "Why is he still his father?"

Charlus appeared to chew his words. "Because…I don't know what will happen if I change it." He exhaled. "Henry – "

Harry perked up.

"Is underhanded and scheming and I don't want to deny Harry his due. Better he suffers the next ten summers than for the lifetime after he becomes a man, right?"

Fleamont leaned forward. "What are you babbling about?"

"Upon your father's death all of his possessions will go to his namesake because his namesake is – in a way – the second son," Charlus said. "We go to Buckley House all the time and I've invested some gold from Henry's vault." To a wide eyed Maynard, he said, "That land you desire will never be yours."

All amusement fled Fleamont's face and so did the color in it. He seemed to rise to his feet unconsciously.

Sterling, on the other hand, laughed. "That clears up a few problems." He hummed and bobbed his head. "Most problems."

Charlus turned to James. "Were you ever told that the last time Henry spoke to your father was some time in early nineteen thirty-one?" He raised his eyebrows. "Henry hasn't said a single word to Fleamont in fifty-five years."

James glanced at his father. "So?"

"He put him – and your mother – out of his house and denied them access to everything he owned because they couldn't be kind to a child; me." He held up a finger. "Have you noticed how silent my overgrown dependent is? Do you think he isn't silently seething in the corner seeing me interact with Harry; knowing I haven't suffered as he wanted me to the last six years? Why do you think he stays his tongue?"

Harry looked at Taurus. Taurus stared at Harry in the same way Fleamont stared at him, so Harry stuck out his tongue out until Charlus covered his face with a hand.

Words laced with amusement, Charlus said, "I've seen the worst of humans. Many of them were unwanted before they were even given a chance – "

"I want Harry," James said.

Charlus nodded. "That much is obvious. What are you willing to do; to give up to have him?" he mused. "How often is Fleamont in your house? How often is Maynard in your house?"

"That isn't any of your business," Cordelia said.

"If a Yaxley may sit in on my family's business then I damn sure can know just how often he is in a Potter home," Charlus retorted.

And James obliged him. "Father isn't there often. He takes Albert with him. Gloria comes by a lot."

"How often are you in their homes, James?"

James ran a hand through his hair. "Just Friday and Sunday. Are those answers good enough for you?"

"No. They didn't explain what you will do with them and your wife."

James glanced at Cordelia then squinted at Charlus as if to see him better.

"Henry taught me to 'say the thing out loud,' so I'm going to say it: you and your wife, despite having your own home, remain cowards in the faces of Fleamont and Maynard. That is why she won't leave despite you having an illegitimate child with a woman you would've left her for," Charlus said.

Cordelia flinched and James grimaced.

"She will never accept your son. She will never want, love, or respect your son. Some of that is her right, but you want to take him home and make him live with her." Charlus raised his eyebrows. "When you realize that; when you see that your wife, your father, and Maynard refuse to show him kindness, will you be a man and put the child first? Or will you continue to force him to respect people who cannot respect his very existence?"

Silence fell over the room. Well, no one spoke. There was a lot of heavy breathing. As if they'd run a race. But it was silent enough for Harry to take his chance, so he poked Charlus.

"Yes?"

He leaned over to whisper in Charlus' ear. "Did you hear about what happened after Egil hit me? The chain and how it disappeared?"

"Yes."

"Dumbledore said Henry made an arrogant agreement with Grindelwald. He said Henry said that he'd stay locked up if no Grindelwald or Dumbledore touched a Potter. Egil pushed me, so they're no longer in prison."

Charlus pushed Harry back to see his face. After a few moments of searching, he got to his feet. One hand held Harry. The other latched on to Sterling. He ignored the various calls of his name as he pulled them into an empty room and locked the door behind them.

"What's wrong?" Sterling said.

Charlus didn't answer. Instead he said, "Komet, bring a vanishing cabinet."

Komet appeared and snapped his fingers to bring forth the wardrobe. Harry wiggled out of Charlus' arm.

"My wife and child are still here," Sterling said.

Charlus nodded. "You can come back for them, but I think I need your healing hands."

Harry didn't hear the rest as he stepped through the vanishing cabinet. He then entered an empty, side chamber in Buckley House. He was barely out of the cabinet before he took off.

Harry checked the main rooms on the ground floor. When he found no one, he ran upstairs. On the second floor, he ran straight to a door that shouldn't be open and stuck his head inside.

Euphemia was there with three sickly looking, old men. She was drinking tea and the old men were drinking some milky, but almost clear water with blankets wrapped around their shoulders.

Harry stepped into the room. "So he wasn't lying…"

"And, of course, you are at the root," Euphemia said.

Harry sniffed and raised his chin. "I just defended myself. Thank you."

"Harry!"

Harry stepped out of the room and ran back to the staircase. "Up here."

He then skipped back into the room while Charlus and Sterling ran upstairs. Harry was amazed two people could sound like horses.

Once inside the room, he looked at the three old men and held the gaze of the green-eyed one. Harry pointed at him then turned to Euphemia.

"Fascinating that you managed to pick him out – "

Charlus, followed by Sterling, ran into the room and Harry turned around. "For all the times you told me not to run in the house, I would think you would know better."

Charlus looked at Harry in disbelief and Harry grinned up at him.

Sterling looked around. "We might be in deep shit."