HP Morgendorffer In Memoriam
Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Wizarding World. I own neither, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this story. I am writing for my own amusement and for ego gratification.
Harry Potter has been placed with different blood relatives instead of with Petunia Dursley: the Morgendorffers from MTV's Daria.
This chapter was previously posted at PPMB as Godric's Hollow 1988.
Harry Potter Morgendorffer*Harry Potter Morgendorffer*Harry Potter Morgendorffer
Helen and HJ returned to their hotel tired and ready to sleep after a long day. Both of them slept until mid-morning, got up, ate breakfast, and then took a stroll down Charing Cross Road. A sports shop caught HJ's eye and they both went in. Like its US counterparts, it sold sports team souvenirs and paraphernalia, although most of its stock catered to soccer. A small corner display drew HJ's attention: a small open display cabinet that sold American-style baseball caps and tees for the London Kings. HJ had never heard of them.
A sales clerk walked over from the side and smiled. "He likes baseball, does he?" he said.
"HJ's crazy about baseball," said Helen. "It's one of his passions. I confess I've never heard of the London Kings."
"It's a new team," said the sales clerk. "They're playing their first season this coming spring. I don't know if they'll develop a following here; Britain's never been much for American baseball."
"Well, they've got a new follower now," said Helen. She wondered if the London Kings would still be playing when Harry started Hogwarts. She bought him a souvenir ball cap, as well as a cap for Jake, then they did a little more strolling.
After returning to their hotel room to drop off their souvenirs, they walked back over to Diagon Alley, HJ now sporting his London Kings baseball cap. They stopped at Gringotts again, this time for a more serious purpose. Helen made hasty arrangements for a curse-breaker and a body-guard for the following morning. She also wrote a note to Terrence Case saying that she had replaced Albus Dumbledore as legal guardian of the Potter Estate, and that she'd be needing an agent in Magical Britain.
She and HJ turned to walk away when she heard a familiar voice call her name.
"Helen!" he said.
"Hi, Roger," said Helen. Roger Crowell was a younger wizard who formerly worked at Gringotts Southwest, but now worked at Gringotts Cascadia, handling wizarding banking in the Pacific Northwest. He reminded her of herself back in her college days: young, idealistic, and full of energy. She was surprised to see him here.
"So what are you doing here?" he said.
"I'm here on business," said Helen.
"And who is this?" he said.
"This is my great-grandnephew HJ Morgendorffer," Helen cut in swiftly.
"He sure looks like—" Roger began.
"I keep hearing that all the time," said HJ, ratcheting up his Texas accent and rolling his eyes. Minister Bagnold's aide Priscilla Goodwin had revealed a hidden streak of mischief and had left HJ a present at the hotel desk when he came downstairs that morning: a particularly saccharine Harry Potter book supposedly covering his exploits since he'd disappeared from Magical Britain. After plowing through thirty pages, then skimming a couple of paragraphs, it was all HJ could do to avoid gagging. A unicorn named Portia? A Harem? He didn't have a horse, he didn't want a horse, and didn't want a harem, either. Living with Daria and Quinn was bad enough. He hoped that Daria never found out about these books or he'd never hear the end of it.
He put out his hand. "Call me HJ," he said.
"Roger Crowell," said Roger.
"So, have you seen some of the sights?" he said.
"I came here for a conference and to settle some matters concerning HJ's estate," said Helen. "What sights we've seen are mostly the No-Maj ones."
"Have you seen the memorial in Godric's Hollow?" said Roger.
"No," said Helen. "Have you?" She knew exactly which memorial Roger was talking about, the one to James and Lily Potter. It was one of the sights she wanted to see, if she could squeeze in the time.
"Yes," said Roger. "It's very moving. To Mundies it looks just like another War Memorial."
"Wait a minute. Could you see it?" he said.
"I'm pretty sure I could," said Helen. "I can see the street entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, even if I can't work the bricks." A plan began to form in her mind. She'd worked with Roger for the better part of a year when he was working for Gringotts Southwest.
"How are you at Apparation?" she asked.
"Pretty good," said Roger.
"Can you take passengers?" said Helen.
"I don't see why not," said Roger, "at least not if I'm carrying a tour bus-sized load. I ought to be able to take you guys along, though."
-(((O-O)))—
They appeared in Godric's Hollow fifteen minutes later. They didn't appear right next to the memorial, but in an alley popular with wizards and witches wishing to apparate near Godric Hollow's second most famous site. Helen had insisted on bringing flowers, non-magical flowers, and had haggled the price down from what the street vendor at Diagon Alley had wanted to charge them.
It took her a little time for her stomach to settle back down. Helen hated Apparation, even if she thought it was necessary. But sometimes you had to move fast and do the unexpected, and this was an even better time to come out here, she thought.
They walked out of the alley, turned right onto a side street, and then walked down to what looked like a busier thoroughfare.
"The Memorial's over here," said Roger.
"Still have your camera?" she asked HJ.
"Yes, Mom," said HJ. He looked at the frame counter and frowned. "But I'm about out of film."
"That's OK," she said, putting her hand on HJ's shoulder. "We'll take a couple of pictures, head back to London, and get some there."
"If that's OK with you, Roger," she added.
"That's fine," said Roger.
The Memorial was several blocks away from intersection that led to the alleyway. Helen first saw the Memorial as a tall obelisk that looked much the sort of monument a government would set for fallen war heroes. The spells concealing the Memorial were stronger here; Helen realized that she'd have to concentrate a little harder to see the Memorial's true form. Still, Helen paused and bowed her head; whatever wizards may think, she thought that the men and women who'd fought in both world wars deserved to be commemorated, too. She stared at the Memorial and concentrated, then looked in amazement as the spells shielding the Memorial yielded enough to let her and HJ see its true shape.
The Memorial was a set of statues showing a young couple: a wizard, presumably James Potter, standing next to a witch, her grand-niece Lily Evans Potter, holding an infant. Whoever had made the statues had done a good job. Helen had only seen photos of James Potter, but Lily's statue strongly resembled the ghostly vision she'd seen in Houston. The man was posed as if he'd just been distracted by a noise at the door and was turning away to deal with it. The woman was posed staring at him with a look of concern on her face.
There was a plaque on a plinth beneath that statue that read "In memory of James and Lily Potter, and of the Boy Who Lived, and their great sacrifice in defeating the Dark Lord. October 31st, 1981." HJ looked at the statue, made a brief choking noise to hold back the tears, and then started crying.
Helen started crying, too. This wasn't just historical event set on foreign soil, but something both personal and familial. Lily was her grand-niece, even if she'd never met her while she was alive. James Potter was her grand-nephew, howbeit through marriage, and HJ was not only their son, but her son as well. Harry was crying into her jacket; she put her arm around his back and let his sobs come out while she blinked away her own tears.
They stood there a long while. Eventually, HJ's sobs ran down. He looked up at her, his eyes still red. "I know," said Helen. "It hurts." Meanwhile, Roger had the good grace to say nothing.
They stood there a couple of minutes longer. Despite the fact that she didn't feel particularly religious, Helen muttered something like a prayer for James and Lily and hoped that they were happy and in a better place.
Their tears slowed down enough for Helen to again be aware of the world around them. "HJ, could I have your camera?" said Helen. "I want pictures I can show Jake, the girls, and your aunt. I think they ought to see them." HJ passed her the camera, and Helen took it out of its case.
Helen did not make HJ pose next to the statue. HJ did not want to pose and Helen wasn't about to force him. She took a picture from one angle, moved, then took another from another angle.
She'd just handed the camera back to HJ when she heard a voice speak up from behind her.
"I was hoping to find you here," he said.
Roger drew his wand, but the wizard standing behind Helen reappeared to one side of Roger and disarmed him with a couple of quick hexes.
"Not bad for someone who'd learned dueling at school," said the wizard, keeping his wand pointed at Roger, "but real-life duels are bit more rough-and-tumble. You need to work on that."
"Lord Black," said Helen. The wizard nodded back at her.
"Lad," said the old wizard.
"Sir," HJ said carefully.
"I thought I might find you here," said Arcturus Black. "I didn't think you had much time left before you had to return to America."
"And this young man is?" said the older wizard.
"Roger Crowell," said Helen. "He was a co-worker at my bank. He now works for Gringotts Cascadia. I persuaded him to take me and HJ by here. I was originally going to come here tomorrow morning."
"Be unpredictable and do the unexpected," Arcturus Black said approvingly. "The fates made a mistake when they didn't make you a witch."
"Lord Black," said another, more familiar voice. "I didn't expect to find you here chatting with Madam Morgendorffer."
"We had dinner together a couple of nights ago, Dumbledore," said Arcturus. "She said some very interesting things at table. Matters that you and I need to discuss at length."
Arcturus put up his hand. "Excuse me, Headmaster," he said.
"Young man, do you work with the cursebreakers?" he said, turning his attention to Roger.
"No, sir," said Roger, "but I can get to them quickly."
"Capital," said Lord Black. "I have some work for them, something I found in my son's house, a locket. Put them on notice that I'll be coming in later this afternoon."
"Here's your wand," he said, handing Roger's wand back to him. "Now you can say that you've sparred with Arcturus Black. That ought to be good for getting drinks or a free meal."
Roger swallowed. "Thank you, sir."
"We'll escort you back to where you came in," said Arcturus.
"Any further thoughts, Madam?" said Arcturus.
Helen felt another moment of dizziness. She hoped it was prophesy. Otherwise she needed to see a doctor when she got home. She put up here hand and took a few deep breaths.
"Nothing much," said Helen. "A rat, boys, all of them with red hair. I think that "strange" I told you about the other night might be a family name or part of one."
She took a few more deep breaths. Get a grip, Helen, she told herself.
"I hope this doesn't get to be a regular habit," she said.
-(((O-O)))—
Author's notes:
"Mundie" A term I invented for North American magical people to refer to non-magical humans. The term is derived from "Mundane," a term used by members of the Society for Creative Anachronism to refer to ordinary folks, particularly those not in costume. My thought is that at least some magicals would use SCA events as cover to mingle with each other and that there'd be cross-cultural pollination. There'd probably be other kinds of cross-cultural stuff going on, too, but Harry Potter Morgendorffer is a story for all ages, not just adults, so I won't talk about that.