"Virginia Potter!" a plump redheaded woman announced as Harry and Pepper approached the table at the Leaky Cauldron where his friends had joined the entire Weasley contingent. "I haven't seen you since your brother's wedding."
"Molly," Pepper nodded to the woman that Harry figured must have been Ron's mother. "I've been on Midgard." She smiled at the collection of smaller redheads, "I think you only had the three boys at the time."
"With these two on the way," she absently slapped one of the twin's hands as he was trying to slip something into Percy's drink.
The other parents of Harry's friends had clearly already subsided under the avalanche of personality that was Molly Weasley. Jean Granger sat quietly, Dean's mother smiled when she saw Pepper but didn't interrupt, and Mr. Patil sat in between his daughters with a calculating look on his face as if trying to judge all of their friends' intentions. Seamus and Lavender were traveling under the aegis of Molly for the day, and they didn't have any attached adults.
It was probably a given that the balding redheaded man was Mr. Weasley, and long used to letting his wife talk.
"Well, that's everyone, right, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "Should we crack on or do you and Harry need a pick-me-up, Virginia?"
"I think we're okay," she allowed, not having expected to join a party of nearly twenty to go shopping.
"Aren't we waiting for Neville?" Harry asked.
"His gran wouldn't let him come," Ron said.
Everyone was pretty sad about that. Pepper mouthed, "Frank and Alice?" to Molly and got a head-shake and sad look. Most of the kids missed the exchange, as they headed toward the entry to the Market proper.
"You must be Ginny," Harry said, trying to make conversation with the only Weasley present he hadn't met yet. He knew Ron's little sister was starting that year. The small girl had hair as red as the rest of her family's.
"Eep," was all she said in reply, blushing and going to hide behind her mother, interrupting the chance that Pepper might have to find out what happened to the Longbottoms.
Navigating the giant interdimensional flea market looked like it would prove to be a huge challenge with so many children together, but Molly Weasley began organizing with long practice. "Okay. Everyone group up. Do you see the big clock over there that says it's 9 local time? Anyone that needs to go by the bank is doing so now. Then you'll split off with any parent that will watch you. Yes, Percy, go have a good time."
"We're going to find Lee," one of the twins argued.
"Fine, but wait for the rest of the instructions," Molly stopped them. "And you better not get into any trouble. Now! Meet back up in front of Ollivander's when the clock says it's half past 10, okay? Then we can switch off any groups that want to. Then we're meeting back here at 12 to get lunch. Also, I heard a rumor that there might be some special guests in the pub. That work for everyone? Okay! Break."
Dr. Granger, Ms. Thomas, and Mr. Patil were wide-eyed and they looked to be taking mental parenting notes. Pepper just smiled, having met Molly before: her mothering strategies had evolved with the additional children, but had been firmly in place with the first few.
"We can grab pocket money later, if anyone else wants to go with Harry rather than the bank first," Pepper suggested. Most of the shops at the market had an electronic connection to Gringotts and would allow shoppers to pay that way rather than with cash.
"We'll go!" Lavender suggested, grabbing Parvati. "My money's in the bank. Parv, you can window shop until Padma and your dad get done?"
Mr. Patil sized up Pepper and Harry then nodded.
"We'll try to catch up!" Hermione told them as they separated.
Harry gave his aunt a look as they took off and she whispered to him, "I didn't want anyone to feel bad if they saw your vault." He nodded, knowing that Ron seemed to be pretty touchy about his family's money.
"So what adventures are we doing this year?" Lavender asked Harry, when the three of them had gotten out of earshot of Pepper in the apothecary. Showing she had some tact about gossip, at least to keep it away from the adults, she said, "Parv says there's an elf assassin after you?"
"Could be," Harry shrugged. "Do you know anything about elves? We were going to look it up in the library."
"A little," she admitted. "I think the ones that made peace with Asgard thousands of years ago became the light elves and resettled on Alfheim. It probably wasn't called that until they settled it. Most of the rest of them got called dark elves and wiped out in that war. Well, there are always rumors that a group of them survived and went into hiding. Could be your assassins?"
"I guess dark elves don't all have black skin and white hair?" Harry checked. Both girls looked at him like that was a bizarre thing to ask, so he said, "Just checking! That's how it works in D&D!"
"This is that game we're pretending to play?" Parvati asked? "I guess I should read more about it."
Lavender was about to ask another question about school heroics, but Harry spotted something out of the window and asked, "Wow. Is Malfoy a clone?" He was watching Draco walking along with an almost-identically-colored older man with an identically-pompous walk. "Does that guy have a sword cane?"
"That must be Lucius," Pepper sighed, walking up from another aisle and following Harry's line of sight. "That was the boy you met in the robe shop last year, right? I thought he looked familiar."
"You know Mr. Malfoy?" Lavender asked.
"We're about the same age," she agreed. "His parents were bothering mine about a possible betrothal from the time we were babies. At least until it turned out I didn't have magic, then they were just incredibly rude about it. I wonder who he wound up marrying?"
"Narcissa Black," Lavender answered, finger on the pulse of wizarding relationships.
"Oh, right, I think Sirius mentioned something about that when he was over," Pepper nodded, old memories of pureblood courtships stirred up. "Let's not get in a fight, okay?"
"Yeah," Parvati agreed. "If Draco even sees that Harry's here, he'll be over trying to start a fight."
"He was less obnoxious about it after he almost died in the forest, at least," Harry shrugged.
"But he'll want to show off for his father," Pepper thought, having seen so many spoiled sons of rich men in the years as Tony's assistant.
"Oh, they're leaving the broom stall," Lavender noticed. "You should order a broom so you can play quidditch this year."
Pepper raised an eyebrow and Harry explained, "I think Oliver Wood is basically going to draft me for the team."
His aunt nodded and said, "Let's not go crazy on getting the best one. You've never done organized sports before. I think you might find it really cuts into your free time."
Harry nodded, since he'd been worried about the same thing. Nonetheless, they went to the broom stall across the way and ordered a nice but not-excessively-optimized magical device from a broom manufacturer who went by the maker's name Nimbus. "Big day for me," Mr. Nimbus smiled. "The Malfoys ordered enough of my top-of-the-line to outfit the whole Slytherin team."
"It really doesn't seem fair that these aren't standardized," Parvati suggested.
"Any more than horses are for polo?" Pepper asked. "Rich people sports."
"And if I don't stay on the team, this will work on any planet, right?" Harry confirmed, knowing that they'd used brooms across several planets through the convergences.
"You aren't going to take this out of our house on Earth unless it's an emergency," Pepper cautioned as they were leaving the stall. That reminded her and she added, "And I'm hanging onto the cloak again. We can revisit it if you don't have anything horrifying to tell me at Christmas." Given everything that had been happening with Tony, and her year-long suspicions of Obadiah Stane, she rather expected that having the cloak would be very helpful if she needed to do some light spying for her boss.
They managed to meet back up with the rest of the crew at the robe shop, where all of the children needed their robes adjusted to their increasing height. They swapped Hermione and Dean for Lavender and Parvati, and Dr. Granger seemed to be having a nice time talking with Mr. Patil so they stayed to help chaperone the larger group, and Dean's mother and Pepper talked while the children shopped for their school supplies.
Harry quietly caught his two best friends up on what they'd been up to, and what Lavender had said about elves.
"I think they're called svartalves in the mythology I've been reading online," Hermione added. "Though I guess it's probably not mythology so much as misunderstood history. I wonder if any other world religions are based on encounters with powerful aliens?"
"Isn't that the kind of thing they talk about on cable channels all the time?" Dean asked.
"Well, yes but…" Hermione started, and then she mentally crashed into the idea that any number of conspiracy theories that sane people wrote off could have a basis in fact. "Oh my god! We're part of the illuminati that keeps their existence secret!"
"With spells to erase memories if people find out and everything," Harry nodded. It was less of an adjustment to him because his aunt had told him about it as soon as she thought he could keep his mouth shut, so he'd had much longer to come to grips with the idea. "Wong basically Men in Black flashy-thinged Obie last year."
Hermione was quieter than usual for the rest of the shopping trip, as her brain churned furiously making connections that she hadn't had time to consider while she was soaking in an entire alien world. She stopped by a stall that sold yarn to get the typical red string, clearly with the intention of starting her own wall full of notecards and crazy when she got home.
By the time they met back up for lunch, everyone seemed exhausted from carrying around all their supplies, particularly young Ginny, who had to buy her chemistry cookware and was lugging a cauldron bigger than her head full of other books and supplies. And the inside of the Leaky Cauldron was packed, periodic brief cheers echoing through to punctuate the sound of men talking loudly enough to carry throughout the building.
"Are they here?" Lavender nearly shrieked.
Molly Weasley nodded enthusiastically, "The Warriors Three!"
"Wait, aren't they Aesir?" Hermione asked. "I thought they couldn't reach the Market."
Percy explained, "As I understand it, the royal family and some of the other most powerful Aesir cannot enter the Market at all. Most of the others can, with a bit of discomfort, but cannot temporarily travel to other worlds through the Market as we can." There were nods all around from those who would know (and from the twins, who just wanted to mock their older brother's self-importance).
They managed to squeeze the group in, but it was anyone's guess whether they'd be able to find a table. In the center of the room, three men were essentially holding court. One was speaking the least: a dour-looking fellow who looked like a Vanaheim native with the more common Asiatic features. Another was the biggest "human" Harry had ever seen, larger than Obadiah Stane and nearly as burly as Hagrid, who had a platter of bar food in front of him and was working his way through it, sometimes pausing to add to the story. But the main speaker was thin and blond, with a well-kept goatee, moving about and telling stories of derring-do.
Their giant crowd of students and parents trying to shove into the bar didn't go unnoticed for very long, as the speaking man announced, "And, could it be, none other than Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived!? The three of us have had countless years to build our legends, but here's perhaps the youngest hero of our time. Come on up, young man!"
Harry was very reticent, but between Mrs. Weasley and Lavender shoving him forward, he didn't have much of a choice. "Um, hi everyone?" he said, the audience's attention on him.
The big man boomed around a mouthful of steak fries, "Well, Potter, defeated any more dark wizards lately? You're nearly a young man grown!"
Harry wasn't actually sure how much of his last year's adventures were meant to be discussed in public, though he'd gotten the idea that Aesir and Vanir cultures both loved a good boast. "I've done a few things," he shrugged. "We fought trolls that invaded the school last winter? But that was a lot more the Weasleys than me," he tried to motion Percy, Fred, George, and Ron to join in.
Before the redhead contingent could steal the spotlight, the blond man ruffled his hair, being sure to show the scar off to the pub, "I can't wait to hear that story. And I'll have all the time in the world. You see, what young Mr. Potter and his brave school chums didn't know was that, this school year, I, Fandral the Dashing, have agreed to teach Hogwarts' defense seminar!" He waited for the cheering and applause to die a bit, before explaining, "Yes, indeed, just think of all the things they'll know before I'm done. We tried to get Hogun to teach, but he's far too Grim."
"Har har," the dour man rolled his eyes.
"And I hear Hogwarts has only so many fields of crops to supply the whole castle, so my friend Volstagg wouldn't be interested in such a fixed amount of food."
"I may show up for a feast or two, however!" the big man chortled, gesturing with a bone-in chunk of roasted meat.
"And, speaking of that, don't let me keep you too long, before my Voluminous friend cleans out the bar. I can tell you and your friends are starving. We'll talk later. Anyway, as I was explaining, Thor was off facing down a particularly ornery terror bird while the three of us were being surrounded by its ravenous young…"
They'd finally managed to find a corner in the large pub far from the Warriors Three where they could mostly fit everyone, though it was a crush, when Harry heard, "Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" in Draco Malfoy's unmistakable drawl. He glanced over to see that, indeed, Lucius Malfoy and his mini-me had come strolling up, the crowd parting to admit them. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go to a pub without being invited to tell stories to the crowd."
"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" Ginny suddenly yelled. Harry had actually almost forgotten she was around, since she steadfastly refused to talk to him or make eye contact.
"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Malfoy tried to needle him.
Harry just sighed and spoke loud enough to be heard over the bar, "I mean, I have friends. Some of them are even girls. Do you want me to explain to you what it's like to have friends, Draco?"
Draco's face got red, and before he could say anything else, his father put his snake-headed cane on the boy's shoulder to silence him, "Well, well, well Arthur Weasley," the older Malfoy drawled, in almost exactly the same affected way as Draco, just with a deeper voice. He gave a pregnant pause and a sneer and added, "and guests."
"Lucius," Mr. Weasley nodded coldly.
The man looked like he was about to start something with Arthur, but then he happened to notice Pepper, "And, oh my word, Virginia Potter. Is that who Dumbledore stuck young Harry with? This must be quite the treat, getting to take your wizard nephew to the Market. I assume you settled to marry some shepherd in the periphery, so this must be all so overwhelming."
"Oh, way worse," Pepper said sarcastically, "I'm a spinster just living in a hovel on Midgard." She managed to mimic Lucius' cadence almost perfectly. "Best away before you catch something."
"I shall not be mocked, and certainly not by a squib!" he said, shocked and affronted.
"You brought yourself over here," Arthur Weasley told him, trying to keep his family from committing the murder of a wealthy landowner, at least in public. "Did you have something to say to me?"
"I was going to ask if they were paying you overtime for those raids your department has been doing, but I can see by the company you're keeping and the state of your children's clothing that they certainly are not." Malfoy sneered, adding, "Honestly, can you even afford to eat here? I supposed you're relying on the charity of these Midgardians for lunch?"
"Don't," Pepper said, laying a hand on Arthur's arm. "Lucius, it was lovely to see you again. Do write, please. My address is 'Virginia Potter, Some Goat Shack, Probably on Midgard Somewhere.' Don't let us keep you from your obviously far more important business today." She'd gone back to her normal American accent and Fortune 500 assistant businesslike tones, just as she'd used to end any number of encounters wasting Tony Stark's time.
Harry noticed that the man was angrily clutching the thick black journal he'd been holding down and to his side, but couldn't figure out a way to say anything else without looking like the biggest jerk in the world. After several long seconds clearly trying to figure out a retort, he simply muttered, "Quite. Come, Draco."
"Why'd you stop them?" one of the twins asked.
"It was about to get good!" the other suggested.
Pepper sighed, "He was trying to start a fight. You would be shocked how often that happens in high-stakes business meetings. Try to get the other person to take a swing so you can call the cops on them."
Mr. Weasley had, indeed, been hanging onto the edge of his temper and admitted, "I was thinking about hitting him."
Mrs. Weasley added, "And if our wands worked here, I'd have hexed the man."
Harry shared a look with his Midgardborn friends, all of them realizing just how much of an asset being able to cast spells without a wand might wind up being.
They managed to get out of the Leaky Cauldron without any further incidents or encounters, Hermione and Percy giving everyone one last reminder to finish their summer homework, before parting for their various entry locations. The parents of Midgard did find it a lot more convenient now that their children had figured out the basic ritual to get into the Market, as each was deposited back in the home city they'd entered the pub from.
After a few more days at home, it was time to head back to school. Pepper took the afternoon off to wait for his "ride" to show up, explaining, "Be good. Don't forget to write. Don't do anything dangerous without a plan this year." She'd pretty much given up on him staying completely safe. After all, she knew his father.
"I'll try," Harry sort-of-promised. "There's the portal." A younger man of middling height with dark hair and a short beard stepped through the hole in space. "Luc!" Harry greeted the apprentice sorcerer he'd met during their summer camp. "Aunt Pepper, this is Luc Aster. He's going to have a really hard time when he becomes a Master."
"Master Aster," Pepper got it, nodding to the man. "Do you want to stay for… breakfast, I guess, your time?"
"Just Lucian, please," he corrected her. "And no, thank you ma'am. Just doing my apprentice duty as a taxi service for very important children." He tried to say it as a joke, but Pepper got the vibe that he was being more honest than he'd intended.
"Well, you're doing us a big favor, as much as you feel like it's a duty. Let me know if there's anything we can do to pay you back. Have a good trip, Harry!" she said, giving him a hug and shooing him off to blithely step to the opposite side of the planet.
Already used to the drill from the year before, Harry had actually eaten before traveling to Kamar-Taj, availed himself of the guest bedroom to take a nap without complaint, and then spent the rest of the "flying to London" time hanging out with the sorcerers that he'd gotten to know over their week of summer camp. For their own part, the adults tolerated having a precocious twelve-year-old pretty well, mostly bemused that he seemed to take the training seriously and thought of them all as buddies.
Padma, Parvati, and Harry met Dean as he was walking through the portal room from New York, and all four stepped through to meet Hermione. "Hello, everyone!" she greeted them enthusiastically. "Master Rama already took the new first-years to the station, so we're on our own this time. I told him he should go without us because there was one boy that seemed like he was obsessed with possibly meeting Harry."
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry acknowledged.
The trip to Charing Cross wasn't long, though five pre-teens marching along dragging wooden trunks through London on a random Tuesday morning raised the occasional eyebrow. They were about to march into the station when they spotted Seamus frantically dragging his own trunk up. "Harry! Good!" their roommate told them. "The cops're lookin' for ye."
"The cops?" Harry asked, wondering what he could have possibly done.
"Yeah! They're stoppin' boys goin' through wi' dark hair. I knew they were lookin' for ye 'cause they asked me t'lift me hair and show 'em me fore'ead."
"But they didn't say 'Harry Potts'?" Hermione checked. Seamus shook his head.
"That elf?" Dean guessed.
"He knew my name, but maybe?" Harry shrugged. A murderous elf calling in an anonymous tip with his description was as good a possibility as anything else. "I really wish Aunt Pepper hadn't kept my cloak."
"Honestly, boys, always going for the big solution," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Parvati, do you have a makeup kit? I'm not allowed to wear makeup yet, but I know you and Lavender were…"
"On it," Parvati nodded, pulling a fairly large box out of her bag. "My concealer's a bit dark for Harry, but I got some for Lavender to try as well…"
"Makeup?" Harry asked, eyes widening.
"Hold still, you big baby," Parvati grinned, then dabbed a bit of makeup onto Harry's scar, using a pad to blend it in. "I don't think it will hold up if they really look, but it should be okay for a glance."
"Perfect," Hermione nodded. "Anyone have a ballcap?" Dean fished one out. "Okay, Harry, now just take your glasses off, and let's put the hat on so it covers your hair but leaves your forehead uncovered like you have nothing to hide. And try to stay behind Dean and Seamus."
They made it into the terminal and thought they had a clear shot at the convergence, before they noticed a police officer strolling over their direction. Feeling like she was left out of the whole escapade so far, Padma moved up to intercept the man and said, "Excuse me, officer? Are you looking for a boy with a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead? I think I go to school with him. I saw him at the grocery on the way in." She pointed back toward the entrance and away from her friends.
"Thanks, miss," the officer nodded, clearly all too happy to have whatever wild chase that had them looking for a dark-haired boy with a scar over with.
As the children managed to pile through the portal to Vanaheim, an angular figure, his pointed ears concealed in a hat, cursed in a language never spoken on Midgard and slipped through after them. His best efforts to keep Harry Potter from getting to Hogwarts had failed, and there was no way he could confront the child in the middle of a crowd on Vanaheim, but perhaps he could still figure out a way to get the boy to leave the school…