Chapter 4
|Sanctuary|
Dudley pushed through the front door, nervous at the situation he found himself in. The situation he had put his family in without much second-guessing. The warm, familiar scent of home did little to ease the tension in his shoulders as he called out.
"Jinani? Kids?" The patter of small feet echoed from upstairs, followed by excited voices.
"Daddy's home!" Heather's high-pitched squeal preceded her appearance at the top of the stairs, her siblings close behind as they rushed down into the entryway to greet their father.
"Hey, listen," Dudley said, his voice mild but resolute. "I need you all to stay upstairs for a while, okay? It's important."
"Is everything alright, Dad?" Harry's brow furrowed, his eyes searching his father's face.
Dudley took a moment before answering. He tried to always be intentional when he spoke to his children, to avoid saying things to them without thinking about how they might perceive it, but that felt much more difficult at the moment.
"Yes, I'm fine," Dudley replied, forcing a reassuring smile. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jinani come into the entryway. "I brought some… friends home that needed help. You know how I've taught you three that it's not polite to stare? I just don't want them feeling crowded. For now, can you all wait upstairs?"
Azari crossed her arms, a hint of defiance in her stance.
"But I wanted to show you my new drawing—"
"Sweetheart," Dudley interrupted. Harry and Azari's mood instantly changed. Interrupting them was something that was extremely rare for their father. "I will make time, I promise. But for now, I really need all three of you to do this for me." He looked between their faces. He saw Jinani fold her arms silently from the edge of his perception. "Stay upstairs until I come and get you, and then I will enjoy your new drawing, and explain what's going on, and enjoy hearing about each of your days."
The two older children exchanged glances, the unusual gravity in their father's demeanor communicating perhaps more than he had intended. They were not exactly scared, but the way their father was acting was… unfamiliar and unsettling.
"That's not fair," Heather pouted, looking at Dudley quite cross. "I wanted—"
"Do you want to play my GameBoy?" Azari asked Heather, interrupting her impending tirade. The shift in attention and mood was so complete and immediate that Dudley would have laughed if he was in a different situation.
"Yeah!" Heather said and started clambering up the steps. "Upstairs! C'mon!"
Dudley turned to face Jinani and her head tilted slightly, dark eyes narrowing with concern and a frown on her face.
"Well," she said softly in case the children were listening. "I don't know what that was all about, but this had better be good."
"Sorry, Jin." Dudley took a deep breath, his blue eyes meeting hers. "I've brought my cousin and Lyra with me."
Jinani's eyes widened, her lips parting unconsciously. She glanced at the front door for a half-second before looking back at her husband with her fear and surprise evident.
"You said you might bring your cousin by today, but… Lyra? The case you've been working on?" Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper, "Dudley, you can't bring a case child home! What's going on!?"
"I know," Dudley said, running a hand through his hair in nervous frustration. "It's... complicated. They're outside. I needed to prepare you first."
"Prepare me?" Jinani's glanced to the closed front door again, then back to her husband. Her brow furrowed, lines etching themselves across her forehead. "Dudley, you're scaring me now. What this all about?"
Dudley opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. How could he possibly explain the storm that was about to enter their ordinary life?
"This…" Dudley paused again for a moment. "It will be easier to explain with Harry."
Dudley motioned for Jinani to wait, his expression a plea for patience and understanding, and opened the door, revealing Harry and Lyra. Jinani's brows raised as she took in the sight before her. Harry, a man she'd only heard about in childhood stories, stood much taller than she had imagined, and was in an obviously protective posture next to Lyra. But it was the girl beside him that truly captured her attention.
Lyra seemed to pull into herself as she crossed the threshold, her thin frame appearing to shrink in the unfamiliar space. Her eyes, wide and wary, darted from corner to corner, as if intent on cataloguing everything around her as quickly as she could. The girl's fingers fidgeted with the hem of her worn shirt.
Harry's hand rested gently on Lyra's shoulder, a silent reassurance. He had positioned himself slightly in front of the girl, a subtle shield against the unknown. The gesture caused Jinani to feel almost instinctual sympathy for the girl, and whatever her husband and his cousin were up to, there was no reason to take it out on this obviously anxious and frightened child.
"Hello," Jinani said, her voice warm but quiet. "I'm Jinani. Would you like some tea?"
Lyra's gaze snapped up to Jinani's face, then away again. A slight nod was her only response.
"Come on, then," Jinani coaxed, gesturing towards the dining room. "Let's get you settled."
As they moved, Jinani couldn't help but notice how Lyra's steps were hesitant, her posture stiff. The girl's eyes continued their restless survey, pausing briefly on family photos and everyday objects with seeming suspicion.
Lyra sat down slowly at the dining room table, perched on the edge of a chair. Her hands curled tightly on the edge of her shirt and she worked the cloth between her fingers without pause. Jinani's heart ached at the sight.
"I'll go make that tea," she promised, her tone warm and gentle. "Just give me a few minutes. Make yourself at home."
Returning to the entryway, Jinani found Dudley and Harry waiting. Their faces were etched with concern and at least a touch of guilt, which Jinani was somewhat satisfied to see.
She crossed her arms and her eyes narrowed at them, her voice low and sharp as she spoke.
"Alright, what's going on here? I need an explanation, now."
Dudley and Harry exchanged a glance, and Dudley took a deep breath, his hand unconsciously reaching for the back of his neck.
"Angel, a few days ago I explained how Harry had been… different growing up, right?"
"You mean when you insisted to me your cousin was a wizard?" Jinani's brow furrowed, her scrutiny bouncing between the two men. Her tone was incredulous, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her face.
"Mrs. Dursley," Harry stepped forward, his expression serious. "I know this is difficult to believe, but magic is real. And Lyra... she's caught in a dangerous situation because of it."
"She's experiencing the same problems at home that most of my cases do," Dudley continued. "But Lyra's mother can do magic too, just like Harry, and she's been using it to hide what's going on."
A part of Jinani understood what they were getting at. If she could accept as a premise that everything Dudley had said about magic was true, then she could understand how this circumstance would be quite different from a normal case, and she could imagine how it could spiral into this impromptu situation.
Jinani had never actually met any of the children that Dudley helped. That was out-of-bounds for the professional standards of his field in the first place, but the thought of what the kids might have endured was something Jinani normally avoided contemplating anyway.
Her attention drifted towards the dining room where Lyra sat, and her heart sank at the thought of what the girl might have endured to cause the reaction she was witnessing. She turned back to Harry, searching his face.
"I want to believe you, I do. But this is..." She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "If what you're saying is true, if magic is real, then prove it. Show me."
Harry nodded slowly, understanding the weight of her request. He reached into his pocket, and as he began to pull his wand out, Jinani's eyes followed the movement, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension filling her.
Harry lifted his wand, its polished wood gleaming in the soft light of the entryway, and Jinani suddenly found herself transfixed. When she had imagined what magic actually looked like, if Dudley had been right, it had always looked so kitsch and tacky in her mind. Imagery of cheesy sticks and worn props.
But even just seeing the wand in motion, the way he held as it raised, convinced her that she was about to witness exactly what her husband had described. It did not look like a cheap children's toy, it looked like a carefully maintained clock or cabinet. Something sturdy and ancient and purposeful.
With a gentle flick and a whispered incantation, a swirl of silvery mist emerged from the wand's tip.
The mist coalesced, shimmering and pulsing with an otherworldly glow, forming the shape of a majestic stag. The ethereal creature pawed at the air, its antlers casting dancing shadows on the walls. Jinani gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as the stag turned its luminous eyes towards her, but the feeling that consumed her wasn't fear or shock, it was peace and happiness.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The stag bowed its head, acknowledging Jinani's presence, before dissipating into wisps of silver that faded into nothingness. The sudden absence of its light left the room feeling darker, and somehow colder than it was before.
Jinani's mind reeled, struggling to process what she had just witnessed. The moving photograph Dudley had shown her days ago paled in comparison to this undeniable display of magic. Her eyes danced between Harry and Dudley frantically, searching their faces for any sign that this had been an elaborate hoax.
But there was no trickery here, no sleight of hand, no hidden projectors or special effects. She couldn't even begin to theorize about how someone could fake what she'd just witnessed, and in any case, she didn't want to. Her skepticism was swept away, and with its absence, her mind absolutely sprinted through all the implications. In just a few seconds, her mind was attempting to completely restructure her understanding of reality.
If magic was real, if Harry could conjure ethereal beings from thin air, then everything else must be true as well. Lyra's abuse, her mother's magical concealment, the danger that had driven them to seek refuge in her home—it was all real.
A chill ran down Jinani's spine as the full weight of the situation settled upon her. Her eyes flicked to the dining room where Lyra sat, then back to Harry and Dudley. Fear, cold and insidious, began to creep into her heart as she considered the unseen threats that might be following the girl sitting in their dining room.
"But…" Jinani's voice trembled slightly as she spoke, her stare shifting between Harry and the front door. "What about our family? If this woman is as dangerous as you say..." She trailed off, the unspoken ideas hanging heavy in the air.
Jinani felt for Lyra, she really did. How could any mother with a beating heart not? But she could not help that her first instinct was to recoil at the danger this might place her own children in.
"I'm going to put up some temporary wards," Harry explained, his tone reassuring. He had children of his own. He completely understood what was going through Jinani's mind, and didn't blame her in the slightest. "They'll keep you safe until I can come back tomorrow with my friends to provide something more permanent."
"Harry's very powerful at magic, Angel," Dudley said, placing a comforting hand on Jinani's shoulder. "We'll be okay."
"Lyra's mother isn't an especially dangerous or powerful person, as far as the magical world goes," Harry explained. "It doesn't take much for a wizard like me to stop her in her tracks. The wards are just because I can't live here with your family, to protect you with my magic since you don't have your own."
Harry started explaining the details of what he planned to do, but Jinani found her attention drifting. Her gaze wandered to the dining room, where Lyra sat alone, waiting for the promised tea. The girl's posture was rigid, her hands still recursively playing with her worn and frayed hem. But it was Lyra's eyes that truly captured Jinani's focus—lidded, haunted, and achingly empty. They were the eyes of someone who was trying to keep moving forward but had run out of energy to continue.
The memory of her conversation with Dudley a few days ago crossed her mind again. Now, looking at Lyra, Jinani felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of empathy. This child had been thrust into an unfamiliar situation beyond her control, surrounded by adults discussing her fate like she was a mere passenger. Jinani thought that Lyra and her probably were experiencing very similar emotions in that regard, even if for different reasons.
In that moment, the fear and uncertainty that had been clouding her thoughts began to recede, replaced by a fierce, protective desire. This child needed more than just magical wards and hushed discussions of safety, she needed warmth, comfort, and a sense of stability.
As Harry continued explaining the need for them to stay inside until he could improve the wards the next day, Jinani made a decision. She took a deep breath, and looked into Harry's green eyes.
"We'll take care of Lyra tonight," Jinani said, her voice cutting through Harry's explanation. "You two focus on keeping us safe."
Harry and Dudley exchanged a surprised glance, then nodded in agreement.
"Right," Harry said, lifting the wand that had still been resting at his side. "I'll get started on those wards."
As Harry began moving about the entryway, muttering incantations under his breath, Jinani paused, watching as the wand left faint trails of silvery light in its wake. The air seemed to thicken, charged with an energy she couldn't quite explain or see, but could somehow feel.
So this is magic, she thought. Despite the fretful situation that had been dumped on her without warning, there was a part of her that felt like a young girl again as she watched, giddy with wonder.
"You okay?" Dudley whispered. He stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Yeah, Dud," Jinani said, her eyes still fixed on Harry's movements. "It's just... a lot to take in."
As Harry's incantations grew more complex, the very air seemed to shimmer. Jinani couldn't see anything tangible, but she felt a growing sense of something, as if invisible walls were being erected around their home.
"I can feel it," she murmured, awe creeping into her voice. "Is this... is this what it was like for you? Growing up with this?"
Dudley's expression softened, his memories of magic being quite tumultuous.
"Not quite," he said quietly. "But I'm glad you can experience the good parts of it." His gaze drifted towards Harry's work for a moment. "I've never… felt it like this though. I didn't think we could, being non-magical."
"Maybe because the magic is about us," she offered. Jinani squeezed his hand, then gathered herself. "I should get that tea for Lyra," she said, her voice regaining its strength.
Jinani moved through the kitchen with practiced ease, her hands reaching for the kettle and teacups while her mind raced. The familiar routine of preparing tea anchored her in a way that she needed at the moment.
She filled the kettle, the rush of water momentarily drowning out the faint murmur of Harry's efforts from the other room. As she set it on the stove, Jinani's mind drifted to the dining room where Lyra sat, small and so vulnerable looking.
How long has that poor child suffered? Jinani wondered, her heart aching. Magic is real… and her mother used it to… Jinani felt anxiety flow through her at just the idea of it, which made her wonder just how much anxiety Lyra must be experiencing. She pulled open a drawer, fingers hovering over the tea selection. What kind of tea would bring her some comfort? I need something that will be soothing…
She settled on a chamomile, hoping its gentle warmth might offer some solace. As she measured out the leaves, Jinani's mind whirled with questions. How would they keep Lyra safe outside of the house? What would this mean for their family? For their children?
The kettle hadn't yet begun to whistle, but Jinani busied herself arranging the tray. She added a small plate of biscuits and grabbed the sugar bowl for good measure.
She glanced again at Lyra, and her mind kept fixating on the huddled and curled up posture that the teenage girl had held since she'd entered the house. Jinani reached for a soft blanket draped over a nearby chair, adding it to the tray.
Dudley watched Harry's wand movements for a moment, the first real bit of magic he had fully experienced since his time in hiding with Dedalus and Hestia. His look shifted to the kitchen, where Jinani busied herself with tea preparations.
He should be doing something useful as well.
Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the dining room, his footsteps measured and deliberate.
Lyra sat in her chair, her body rigid, but her fingers still moving anxiously, and her posture curled in protectively. This was a fairly universal and instinctive posture that many people got when under extreme stress, not just children, and not just people who experienced trauma. Dudley approached slowly, careful not to startle her. He pulled out the chair next to her, the soft scrape against the floor causing Lyra to turn slightly.
"Mind if I sit here?" Dudley asked, his voice soothing.
Lyra gave a barely perceptible nod, her eyes darting up to meet his for just a moment before moving away again. Dudley settled into the chair, angling his body towards her but giving her enough space so that she didn't feel trapped.
"Lyra," he began, his tone soft but clear, "I wanted to talk to you about what happens next." He paused, giving her time to process his words. "If you're comfortable with it, we'd like you to stay here with us while we work everything out. Is that okay with you?"
He watched carefully as Lyra's fingers stilled, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered his words. Her shoulders remained tense, but she turned her head a fraction towards him, a sign she was listening intently.
She'd been teasing him by the end of the car ride, but this change in behavior didn't surprise him. Too much was happening, too much was uncertain, and now she was surrounded by people she didn't really know, which usually caused anxiety for children in Lyra's situation.
She was also in a strange home, far away from the front door, with no concrete evidence yet about how she would be treated. If this hadn't been a situation that had happened so quickly and felt completely out of his control, simple mistakes like that would have never been made, but he'd work with what he had.
The phenomenon of a trauma victim maintaining their composure, only to break down once they reached a space where they felt safe, was something he had observed many times before. Usually it indicated something like Complex PTSD, but he would need more time with her to properly diagnose her.
She was probably preparing herself for disappointment and abandonment. For the offer of help to fall apart like it always had before. Because if they hadn't fallen apart every other time, she never would have wound up on his desk.
The kids who found help didn't end up with him. The kids with alternatives, or support networks, or people who followed though… they all were picked up by someone else, by a different part of the system, before they ever reached Dudley's desk.
So, sadly, this behavior was something he was used to. Expected almost. Even if nothing about the circumstances were expected.
"You'll be safe here," Dudley continued, his voice steady and reassuring. "Harry is setting up magical protections right now. And Jinani, my wife, she's making some tea for you."
Lyra's eyes met his again, lingering this time. She searched his face for a moment with such focus and intensity that it caught him off guard, at odds with the timid, nervous, and reserved displays she'd given since entering the house. It was more like the way she had acted during the drive.
"You'll be able to give input on what happens," Dudley said, the promise evident in his tone. "And we'll figure out the best way forward together, okay? You won't be alone in this."
The anxiety that had been etched into her features since her arrival morphed into exhaustion for a moment. No doubt, the overwhelming emotions of the day so far had taken their toll. Her lips parted, then closed, as if she was struggling to find the right words.
"But... you're a Muggle," she finally said, her voice small. She glanced towards the entryway where Harry's incantations could still be heard. "How can you stop her? She erased your memory the last two times. Wouldn't it be better to go with Mr. Potter?"
Dudley leaned back slightly. He could see the conflict in her expression—the desperate desire to believe in his promise of safety, at war with the hard-learned lessons of disappointment and betrayal. Someone besides her mother had truly failed this child.
"If that's what you would be comfortable with, we can ask if you can leave with him," Dudley offered. He thought back to Lyra's reaction when she'd first seen Harry. "Or I can ask for you, if you'd prefer."
Lyra didn't say anything, and her expression flattened somewhat. He couldn't quite read her face yet, but she appeared to be thinking. Dudley pressed on.
"I just figured with everything that had happened today, you might feel more relaxed with something more… 'normal' than going with Harry."
Lyra's eyes dropped down to her lap again, her face looking conflicted. He imagined, from what he did know about Harry's life and importance to the magical community, that the appeal of being rescued by him would be fierce. But it didn't matter if it was the magical world or not, experience and education taught him that what would bring her some peace in the immediate future was calm and simplicity.
Somehow he doubted that being around Harry would be those things.
Despite that however, he would keep his word. If that's what she wanted, he wouldn't try to make her stay here.
"Will the wards…" Lyra's voice came out scratchy and she paused to clear her throat. "Will they be enough?"
"Well," Dudley said, his tone light but sincere, "it is the Harry Potter setting them up. I'd say we're in pretty good hands." Dudley's expression softened a bit. "My family will be depending on them, and Harry knows that. I'm sure it will be enough."
"But..." Lyra started, then paused. Her fingers slowly unclenched, releasing their twisting grip on her old shirt. "He's going to go home right? He'll leave?"
"You're right," Dudley nodded, acknowledging her concern. "But he'll be returning tomorrow, he's already insisted on that."
As he spoke, Dudley watched the subtle change in Lyra's posture. Her body released some of its tension, but her eyes looked less focused.
"And you?" Lyra asked, her voice sounding almost distant. As if she wasn't actually talking to him but just near him. "You'll... you'll be here?"
Dudley frowned at this question. This was his house, which she was obviously aware of. She was in a far worse state than he had suspected if this affirmation was one she needed to hear.
"I'll be here," Dudley assured her, his tone tender but firm. "My family and I, we're not going anywhere. You won't be alone in this, Lyra."
All at once it was like a curtain was ripped away from Lyra, her emotions plain and unguarded, and Dudley was shocked at what he saw in her. She wasn't entirely present, he realized. He was witnessing a partial dissociative state. She looked raw, as if even the air floating across her skin would felt overwhelming.
Dissociation was a fairly extreme symptom, and it might cause Lyra to engage in destructive behavior without her even realizing it. Still, it was something that fit the facts of her case and her other symptoms. It didn't usually present in C-PTSD cases unless the abuse was particularly long and severe.
"I..." Lyra began, then swallowed hard. "I don't know how to do this." Her eyes shot back and forth, not entirely focusing on anything that Dudley could see. "I don't know if I can."
"That's okay," Dudley reassured. He didn't have the professional distance from this case to avoid the ache in his chest at what he was seeing. "We'll figure it out together, one day at a time. For now, let's just focus on today. On this moment."
Lyra nodded slowly, her gaze drifting around the room. When she looked back at Dudley, there was more of her there. Wherever her mind had briefly retreated to, she had returned now.
"Your house," she said hesitantly, "it feels... different. Warm."
Dudley smiled, recognizing the offer of an olive branch, and attempt at deflection, for what it was.
"That's all Jinani's doing," he said, gesturing towards the kitchen. "She has a knack for making any place feel like home."
Dudley's eyebrows furrowed for a second as he played his words back in his head.
"Though, don't let me give you the wrong idea about her," Dudley said, his expression shifting to a fondness that was extremely earnest. "She's the one who really supports the family with her work, my job isn't one you get into for the money. She's focused, and brilliant, and… amazing. Much better than I could ever deserve. I'm sure you'll get along with her."
As if on cue, the kettle whistled in the kitchen. Lyra startled slightly at the sound, but her reaction was less pronounced than Dudley had expected it to be, given how scattered she had been only a few moments ago. She looked towards the kitchen, then back at Dudley, a question on her face.
"That'll be the tea," Dudley explained. "Remember my wife offered to make some? Would you like some?"
Lyra nodded, the movement small but purposeful. Lyra seemed to consciously relax herself and put her hands on the table, letting them splay out instead of going back to fidgeting.
It was a small change, but to Dudley, it was what he had been looking for. Something to give him some indication that she wasn't spiraling into a mental health emergency that would require immediate action.
He wanted to try to make her feel comfortable in the space if he could. Make her feel at home without making her feel at her home.
It would take much more work to gain any deep insights into Lyra's thoughts and feelings, but he had a rough idea now. She was driven by conflicting needs for both security and independence, and had some frankly alarming psychological coping mechanisms. He'd need to make sure he let her actively participate in any decisions that were made about her life, even more so than he had been planning.
She was certainly going to feel trapped by the situation that he, with Harry's help, had put her in. There wasn't much he could do about that while also maintaining his obligation to help her escape her unsafe environment. So he'd have to give her as much freedom and choice as he could, while still keeping her safe.
Jinani entered the dining room, her steps measured and careful. A steaming cup of tea rested on the tray she carried, its gentle aroma filling the air. She approached Lyra with a warm smile, her movements slow and deliberate to avoid startling the girl.
"Here you are, love," Jinani said softly, setting the cup down in front of Lyra. The china clinked softly against the wooden table, a homely sound in the quiet room. "Careful now, it's hot."
Jinani set the tray with the rest of the accompanying items down in front of Lyra, and pulled the blanket off. Slowly, she placed the blanked on the back of Lyra's chair so that it was there if she needed it.
Lyra's eyes went up to meet Jinani's, a moment of connection between them, before dropping back down to the tea. Jinani's smile softened with compassion. She took a seat on the other side of the dining table, giving Lyra space to breathe.
Lyra's fingers wrapped around the cup, the warmth seeming to soothe her even before picking it up. The girl closed her eyes and took a deep breath, lifting the steaming fragrant brew to her face.
Dudley looked over at Jinani, not wanting to stare at Lyra while she was obviously trying to collect herself and having a private moment.
"I should go check on the kids," he said.
Jinani nodded in agreement. Dudley stood to leave the room and head upstairs, when a loud clank drew his attention back toward the newest member of their household, accompanied by a suspicious sounding thudding from upstairs.
Lyra's eyes were fixed on the swirling liquid within. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint ticking of a clock and the distant murmur of Harry's continued spellwork.
Then, so quietly it was almost inaudible, Lyra spoke.
"Thank you."
"Where is it?" Azari hissed, throwing her sheets around the room. "Uhg! It's gone again!"
"Shh!" Harry shot back. He lowered his voice. "Don't be too loud, they might hear you downstairs."
"You said!" Heather whined. "You said I could play it!"
Harry put his head into his hands and growled in frustration. He stood abruptly, drawing Azari's attention from her search, and stomped out of his sister's room.
It was in his room. The GameBoy was there again, he was sure, even though he didn't take it, and even though he didn't know how it got there.
As he reached his bedroom door however, a voice he didn't recognize drifted up from the stairs, making him pause. It sounded like a man. Was this the friend his dad was talking about?
Harry tip-toed to the wall next to the top of the stairs, making sure to remain out of sight, and tried to catch some of what was being said.
"…Lyra's mother can do magic too, just like Harry, and she's been using it to hide what's going on."
That was his father's voice… Magic? Lyra? And him? Was his dad talking about him?
Harry jumped as something moved next to him, but it was only Ari. He clutched his chest, the momentary surge of adrenaline making him gasp a few times. He whispered at her, trying to make sure they weren't discovered.
"Don't sneak up like that," Harry hissed.
"Sorry," she whispered back. At least she sounded genuinely sorry. "I can't find it. Heather's gonna have a fit if I don't give it to her."
"It's in my room again I think," Harry told her. He rolled his eyes at the scowl she gave him in response. "I didn't take it. I don't know why it keeps happening."
The sound of Azari's door opening caused them both to turn and make sure Heather didn't cause a racket.
"It's in my room," Harry told her quietly. "You can go in there and play with it."
Heather turned and immediately trotted into his room, closing the door behind her. Harry was about to tell Ari what he'd overheard their father's voice say, when the sound of their mother's voice drifted up from the entryway.
"I want to believe you, I do. But this is... If what you're saying is true, if magic is real, then prove it. Show me."
Harry and Ari looked at each other, any argument they might have had long forgotten. 'If magic is real'…? That sounded like something their father might say, but not their mother.
Harry was about to ask Ari if she had any idea what they were talking about, when a feeling rushed over him that he'd never felt before. It was like a prickle on the back of his neck, that was somehow warm and comforting also. A silver glow lit up the wall across from them at the top of the stairs, and an indescribable feeling a peace and happiness suddenly filled them both.
It was like the feeling he had the first time he'd actually been able to do a trick with his skateboard, a perfect moment that didn't need context, it just existed on its own.
And then the light faded, and the feeling faded with it.
Harry glance over and saw Ari's eyes wide, her breathing heavy, and he realized he was breathing heavy as well. What was that?
"Magic?" Ari whispered.
"I think so," Harry agreed.
"But… I thought magic wasn't real," she said. "Like Father Christmas."
"Felt pretty real to me," Harry argued. Ari nodded, conceding the point. "Do you think that means Mum and Dad can do magic? That they've been hiding it from us?"
"No stupid," Ari said with a smirk. "Mum just said she needed proof."
"Oh, right."
They looked at each other for a few moments, both trying to figure out what they were missing, when their mother's voice floated up the stairs once again.
"But… What about our family? If this woman is as dangerous as you say…"
Harry's eyes widened and Ari gave him a look that said she understood too. Magic was real, and it might hurt them? Someone wanted to hurt them?
"I'm going to put up some temporary wards," the unfamiliar voice from before replied. Ari gave Harry another look, as if asking him who that was, but he just shrugged. How was he supposed to know? "They'll keep you safe until I can come back tomorrow with my friends to provide something more permanent."
"Harry's very powerful at magic, Angel," their father said. "We'll be okay."
It took only a few moments for Harry to decipher the confusing context. He looked at Azari silently again, and both understood that the other had figured it out. They both knew that their dad had a cousin named Harry Potter that he'd been named after. They'd been told that his namesake was brave, selfless, and kind, and that's why their parents had chosen the name.
Both of them had asked, at different points, if they could meet this Harry Potter that Harry had been named for, but it had always made their father look sad. They'd privately agreed that Harry Potter must be dead, and that's why they couldn't visit him, and why it made Dad unhappy.
But maybe this was why instead? Something to do with a Lyra and her mother?
Harry couldn't help himself and snuck a peak around the corner to look down at the landing.
"Lyra's mother isn't an especially dangerous or powerful person, as far as the magical world goes." Harry watched his namesake speak, because that had to be who it was. "It doesn't take much for a wizard like me to stop her in her tracks."
Harry felt himself getting pulled back around the corner by his sister. She gave him a look that he was all-too familiar with, because she used it frequently.
'Are you stupid?'
"The wards are just because I can't live here with your family, to protect you with my magic since you don't have your own."
Harry nodded at Ari, listening closely. So, their family couldn't do magic, but Harry Potter could. As well as someone who wanted to hurt them for some reason.
"Wards are an enchantment," Harry Potter's voice explained. "They normally can only be used on static locations, but they are very good at making that specific location safe."
An… enchantment. Harry Potter was going to put an enchantment on their house?
"However, they usually don't go with you when you leave. There are other kinds of enchantments and protections that can. But I didn't come prepared, and honestly don't have the expertise, to do them right now."
So they couldn't leave the house? Because some mystery woman might magic them to death or something? What was going on?
"That's why I'll be returning tomorrow with some friends of mine who are talented at those kinds of enchantments. I understand how… difficult it would be to be stuck in your own house for long."
'More?' Ari mouthed to Harry. He nodded. There were more magic people, and they'd be here tomorrow. But it sounded like these ones were good.
"But until I'm able to return, I cannot stress enough how important it is that you stay in—"
"We'll take care of Lyra tonight."
Both of their eyes widened. That was the tone their mother used when they weren't just in trouble, they were in trouble. Were Harry Potter and Dad in trouble for something?
"You two focus on keeping us safe."
Ari leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear.
"Did Dad make some magic person angry or something?"
"I dunno."
"Right," Harry Potter's voice replied. "I'll get started on those wards."
Harry had to resist the urge to immediately try and peek around the corner again to see real magic. From the sound of it, he'd be able to see more magic tomorrow if he didn't get another chance to see tonight, and it wasn't worth the trouble they would get in if they were caught. He'd never heard his dad talk like he did earlier.
Suddenly, Harry felt it again. The warm, comfortable prickle. That must be the 'enchantment' that Harry Potter was doing. He could feel it. Harry glanced over at Ari, and it was obvious she could feel it too from the look on her face.
"Who's Lyra?" Ari asked him, clearly trying to ignore the odd feeling they were both experiencing.
"I'm not sure," Harry told her. "But it sounded like it was 'Lyra's mother' that they were afraid of."
"That mum and dad were afraid of," Ari pointed out. "Harry Potter didn't sound very scared."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It sounded like he could beat her up easy, from the way he was talking."
"Beat her up?" Ari asked in confusion. "Wouldn't magic be something like… turn her into a frog?"
"Maybe," Harry said with a shrug. "It's not like I know how magic works. Have you ever seen me cut a girl in half, or pull something out of a hat?"
"The hat thing can't be real magic," Ari argued. "I don't know how they do the hat thing, but adults always seem bored with that, so it must be something boring."
"Yeah," Harry said, "but I bet a real wizard could pull anything out of a hat, not just a rabbit. Would be useful for finding your GameBoy, just yank it from the top of your head."
Ari didn't respond, and Harry glanced over at her, curious about what was going on. She had a look on her face like she'd seen a ghost.
"Do you swear on your skateboard that you haven't been taking it?" Ari asked him seriously. Harry frowned.
"Yes," he said. "I wasn't lying."
"What if that's how it gets in your room?" Ari asked frantically. "Magic."
Harry frowned for a moment. That… would make more sense than anything else he'd thought of. He nodded slowly.
"Could be."
Harry watched in confusion as Ari seemed to panic, and his confusion quickly turned to concern. Ari wasn't afraid, she wasn't cautious, and she didn't panic. But she sure looked terrified right now.
"What's wrong?" he asked quickly.
"Lyra's mum!" Ari answered in a harsh whisper. "She's already here! She's been doing it to make us fight each other!"
Harry paused and considered that, but shook his head quickly.
"Don't be stupid, Ari," he said. "They were talking like she would do something… serious."
"Then how is it happening!?" Ari asked, her words strained and her breathing speeding up. "What if it was just tests or something? Just to see what we would do? Or to see if there was stuff like these wards around?"
Harry watched with alarm as his sister clutched her chest and seemed to breathe even faster. Without thinking, he pulled his sister into his chest. She was having a panic attack. Harry had one last year when they had gone to London and discovered that he had a crippling fear of heights. It had been the opposite of fun. Not fun.
He took deep breaths while holding her shoulders tight, the same way his Dad had done for him. Slow, deep breaths. In… and out. Ari's fingers dug into his shirt and she clutched at him tightly, a soft wheezing sound as she tried to gulp air.
For several moments Harry was worried that he was doing it wrong. That he'd messed up somehow, and his Dad had done something special that he wasn't doing for Ari.
But with each passing moment, her breathing got closer to matching his, and her fingers became less frantic in their grasping. After only 30 seconds, he felt her body shake in a different way and realized she was crying into his shirt silently.
"Why do you always have to be that way?" Ari asked him, her sobs ebbing almost as quickly as they came. He couldn't tell if her question was sarcastic or honest, so he just kind of shrugged. He wasn't himself right after his panic attack either.
"Awesome?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"No, stupid," she whispered into his shirt, her tone making it clear now that she was using the word as a term of endearment. "Nice."
"Oh."
Harry didn't know what to say to that question. He didn't know what to think about his sister asking it either. Sure, they got on each other's nerves and called each other names sometimes, but they never really fought. Not like his friend Stanley and his sister.
"I dunno," Harry finally said. "That happened to me last year, remember? It sucked. I didn't want you to deal with it on your own when I had Dad with me for mine."
Ari wrapped her arms around Harry and squeezed him for a moment before letting go.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Harry let go of his sister's shoulders and let her pull back. Her eyes were a little red, but she looked much better than a few minutes ago.
"Mum and Dad are taking care of whatever is going on," Harry reassured her. "You heard it yourself. And Harry Potter is here, back from the dead, putting enchantments on our house… whatever that means. We'll be fine."
Ari nodded, a faint smile at the comfort her brother was trying to provide, when her eyes suddenly widened again.
"Wait, I think it was magic," she said, this time with excitement.
"Ari, c'mon. Why would this magic women just mess with a few kids?"
"No, not her," Air said, pointing her finger at him. "You."
"Me!?" Harry's retort was loud enough that he ducked and stopped, trying to tell if anyone had heard him. After a few seconds, when it seemed the coast was clear, and Harry Potter's magic muttering from the bottom of the stairs kept going, Harry looked at Ari annoyed.
"I swore on my skateboard Ari!" His whisper was harsh, and pointed. "It wasn't me!"
"I'm not saying you did it on purpose," Ari said, her newfound excitement unabated by his frustration. "Haven't you ever just like… tried for a moment to make something happen with your mind?"
Harry blushed in embarrassment, but nodded.
"Something like that," Ari said. "You really want your own GameBoy, right? What if you're making it go to your room just by wanting it?"
"Well I wanted chocolate instead of vanilla for dessert the other night," Harry grumbled, throwing up his hands to clearly indicate how ridiculous he found this idea. "But that seemed to stay the same."
"But did you really want chocolate?" Ari asked. "Like you want a GameBoy?"
Harry frowned. He supposed they weren't really the same.
"Okay," Harry said. "So what if I'm doing it then? I don't know how I'm doing it, so I don't know how to stop it."
"No," Ari said, shaking her head. "I'm not talking about the GameBoy. If you can do magic, then you can protect us."
"What!?" Harry said, his frustration growing. "Why would I know how to do that when I don't know how I'm doing the thing with the GameBoy?"
Ari's excitement finally faltered slightly, and her words shifted slightly into a more pleading tone.
"But would you want to protect us from some magic crazy woman?"
"Of course!" Harry told her, scowling.
"Like you want the GameBoy?"
Harry's expression quickly shifted to contemplation as he realized what she was getting at. He nodded, his tone much more gentle now.
"Yeah, Ari," he said. "Like the GameBoy. I'd want it."
Ari shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable. Harry waited. She obviously had something else to say.
"Can I sleep in your room tonight with the sleeping bag?"
Harry's instinctual response to this was to laugh and poke fun at her. To remind her that she's the younger one, and that he's a whole year and a half older.
But his replies and teasing died a premature death when he saw the expression she was wearing. He had never seen Ari look so vulnerable before.
"Please," Ari added, obviously uncomfortable with asking at all. "I'm… scared."
"Okay," Harry said. "Sneak in after Mum and Dad go to sleep." He paused. "But I think that whatever enchantments Harry Potter is doing are going to be more useful than me."
"I should go check on the kids." Their father's words, immediately followed by the sound of a teacup being put on the table, made both of them stand up and scramble as quietly as they could towards Harry's room where Heather would be.
They made it inside and closed the door, looking at each other in that sort of giddy fear that someone only experiences after being nearly caught at something.
The sounds of the GameBoy drew their attention as the battle theme to Ari's pokemon game started to play.
"Wait," she said, her full attention turned towards her younger sister. "Did you do anything to my team?"
"No I promise," Heather said with pride. "You said to not touch yours, so I made a new one instead."
Harry tried to head it off, he knew it was coming, but there was nothing he could do to prevent Azari's reaction.
"YOU WHAT!?"
She flew across the room, grabbing the GameBoy out of Heather's hands with a harsh tug.
"Hey!" Heather shouted. "That's mine!"
"No, it's NOT!" Ari shouted back.
"I'm telling Dad!" Heather screeched with all the fury a 5 year old could muster. Harry watched as Heather stomped towards the bedroom door, feeling powerless to stop the problems that would obviously be coming. But just as Heather reached the door, it opened on its own, and there was their father, looking and him and Azari with suspicion.
"That sure is a lot of shouting I'm hearing," Dudley said. "What's going on?"
Harry knew better than to try to get a word in with the looks on Ari's and Heather's faces, so he just frowned in frustration as they both started shouting.
"Ari took—" "She deleted my—"
"That's enough of that," Dudley said loudly. Heather whined in frustration, and Ari looked at her sister with venom, but they both stopped talking. Interrupting Dad was the quickest way to lose an argument, and even Heather knew that.
"Now," Dudley said at a much more controlled volume. "We will do this the way that we always do. One at a time." He looked down at Heather who was standing with her arms crossed in a ferocious pout at his feet. "You first, Heather."
"Ari took it!" Heather said emphatically. Ari scowled further, shaking her head with an exaggerated sneer behind Heather's back. Dudley glanced up and gave Ari a look of warning before turning his attention back to Heather.
"The GameBoy?" he asked.
"Yeah!"
"Was your turn up? It does belong to her."
"We weren't taking turns," Heather declared. Harry's face fell as he quickly understood where this line of questioning would lead.
"Oh? Ari and Harry were just watching you play?"
"No," Heather said with a shake of her head for emphasis. "They were by the stairs. They both said I could play! And then SHE TOOK IT!"
Heather let out another screech of frustration, but Dudley looked up at the two older kids and fixed them with a stare for a few moments. Seeming to come to a decision, Dudley looked back down at Heather.
"Look at me Lovely," Dudley said is a soft voice. Heather looked up at her father, who's expression seemed kind and open, calming her tantrum in anticipation of getting her way. Dad always called her 'Lovely' when she got her way.
"You're right," Dudley started, kneeling down to get more eye-level with his youngest. "Even if Azari wanted it back, she shouldn't have taken it out of your hands. But we don't get our way by throwing tantrums."
Heather's face went back to a pout.
"I want you to tell your sister what made you feel bad, and then ask her to return it."
Heather whipped around to Azari, but the older girl's eyes were fixed on her father, her previous scowl long replaced with an expression of fear and trepidation. The look Dudley gave Azari behind Heather's back made it perfectly clear how Azari was supposed to answer when Heather asked for the GameBoy back.
"You never play with me!" Heather said. Her statement caused everyone else in the room, including Dudley, to look at her in mild surprise at how she began her explanation. "And you don't let me play! You play with Harry, but not me!"
Now both Harry and Azari actually felt a little guilty. They had both expected Heather's feelings to be… easily dismissed.
"You said I could play it!" Heather's eyes started to water. "You don't let me play your game, so I made a new one! I did what you said! I didn't touch your game, I made a new one!"
Heather sniffed. Azari looked far too contrite to just be pretending for their Dad.
"But you took it anyway! It made me mad, 'cuz it's not fair!"
Azari looked down, her cheeks warming a little.
"Can I have it back now?" Heather asked in a cheery, expectant voice that was entirely at odds with the rest of what she said.
Azari held out the GameBoy without looking up and Heather took it with glee.
"Azari?" Dudley's voice called out. She looked up at her father, and then back to her sister, feeling uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, Heather," she said.
"You can go play it in your and your sister's room," Dudley told the small girl. "I want to talk to your brother and sister."
Heather happily complied, walking out as the chime of the device turning back on sounded, humming the battle theme from the game. Dudley looked at them both for several seconds, but neither of them volunteered to speak.
"You'll have one extra chore each for eavesdropping," Dudley told them. "Tomorrow only. But most of the things you overheard are things you would be told tonight or tomorrow anyway, so I hope it was worth it."
Azari and Harry glanced at each other and Azari nodded. She wanted him to do the speaking. That was probably smart, she had just gotten in trouble.
"Dad, is magic actually real?"
Dudley let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.
"Yes," he said. "It is. I don't have time right now to explain everything that is going on, that'll have to wait until tomorrow. So I will cover the truly important things tonight."
"Like Harry Potter not being dead?" Harry asked with excitement, feeling personally invested in the man he was named after being alive and able to do magic.
"No stupid," Azari muttered. "Like the mean magic woman."
Dudley frowned as he glanced between them a few times.
"We're not in danger," Dudley assured them. "That's why Harry Potter is here, to make sure that we're not in danger. The… mean magic woman won't be able to do anything, he is much more powerful at magic than she is." Dudley's expression softened. "It's a very complicated situation, and I wasn't going to hide it from you two, but I can't tell you all the details because of my job. You both remember how that works?"
They both nodded.
"Harry Potter is here as a precaution," he continued. "There isn't someone out there that can do magic that was… hunting us down or anything like that. It's just to be careful." Dudley looked directly at Harry. "You always wear your helmet with your skateboard, but that's not because you expect to fall every single time, right? It's like that. Like wearing a helmet. Something you do because it's sensible, not because you're afraid of the pavement attacking."
Both of them felt their bodies relax as a tension that had been filling them seemed to finally let go.
"A girl will be staying with us for a while," Dudley continued. "Her name is Lyra, and I want you to leave her alone until she talks to you." Dudley glanced between the two kids, who were both looking down in thought. "Hey, look at me please."
They both looked up and met his eyes. He tried to express to them how serious he was.
"I mean it. Do not bother her tonight or tomorrow at all unless she talks to you. If you have a problem with her, I want you to come to me or your mother. One of us will always be around when she is, alright?"
He got a series of nodded confirmations. He let the serious expression on his face fade and gave them a soft smile.
"I need you to stay in your rooms for the rest of the evening. There's too much going on, and I don't want you to accidentally get in the way, and then Harry Potter's magic work gets disrupted." The expressions on their faces loudly announced their displeasure at their confinement. "But, your mother will come and get you both in a bit take you out for a treat once Harry Potter has gone home. He'll be back tomorrow, and I'm sure you'll be able to safely observe some real magic then."
This seemed to pick their spirits up.
"Can we visit Aunt Millie?" Azari asked hopefully.
"Probably not," Dudley said. "It would be short notice. But we can ask about arranging something soon."
Dudley looked over at Harry, who was looking down in thought. Harry looked up at his father a few seconds later with an uncomfortable expression. Dudley motioned for his son to speak, knowing it was best to let them keep asking questions instead of just speculating.
"Dad… Mum sounded like she didn't know magic was real until tonight. But you've said you grew up with Harry Potter. And if he can do magic… you knew it was real before?"
Dudley sighed, and then nodded.
"Yes, I've known magic was real since I was 11."
"Really? What was the first magic you saw?"
Dudley frowned for a moment before he chuckled, relaxing slightly, a wide grin filling his features. This was a story that the children would love.
"Well, the first magic that I really saw was when a ten foot tall man used an umbrella to give me a pig's tail."
They both gawked at him for several seconds of silence as his smile grew wider at their astonishment. Then, as if an actual spell was broken, they both shouted in unison.
"WHAT!?"
Author's Note: If you are interested in talking with me, or giving me your feedback directly, feel free to join my discord server with this invite code: TQ25x5u
