By the time Harry cleaned up for the evening and changed into his pajamas, it was nearly ten o'clock. With a soft yawn, he crawled into his full-size bed and settled in for the night. Just as he was about to drift off, he heard a sharp psssst! from the cot on the other side of the room.
"Hey Harry… erm, how'd it go?" asked Othniel.
"Go to bed, Othniel," Harry replied with a sleepy creak. He rolled over on his side, turning his back toward his friend.
"Sorry," groaned Othniel. "I'm just having a hard time falling asleep is all…"
"Oh for Pete's sake," grumbled Harry. "Go to the hall bathroom and grab a cup of water and check the medicine cabinet for some melatonin pills." He groaned. "While you're at it, you might want to get a couple extra for me as well."
"Oh. So no magical ways of getting me to fall asleep I take it?" Othniel persisted.
"Not tonight at least," replied Harry. "Sirius and Remus said they may be going to the local wizarding district tomorrow so maybe you can ask before they leave."
"Bummer," sighed Othniel. He got up from his cot and made his was down the hall, ostensibly to find the melatonin Harry recommended. He returned a couple of minutes later, pills in hand with a small plastic cup of tap water.
"Didja find any?" Harry asked.
Othniel stifled a yawn. "Yeah. The bottle says it may take a little while to kick in though." He handed a pair of small, white pills to Harry. "There you go, dude."
"Thanks," Harry whispered as Othniel got settled back down in his cot.
"So," continued Othniel, "if you don't mind telling me, what all did they tell you?"
Harry sighed. "Some of the stuff they said… I'm probably not at liberty to tell anyone – at least not yet. I already knew a fair bit of the story though, from what Remus and Nova said… but it fell, well, right, coming from the mouths of Uncle Roger and Sirius." He hummed softly. "In a nutshell, they told me a bit about the war in Magical Britain, and how I ended up in Canada."
"Gotcha," replied Othniel. "Do you feel satisfied at least?"
"I do," confirmed Harry. "There's still more to the story which they said will come another time, but considering my limited magical education so far, they didn't want to overwhelm me… even some of the stuff they told me tonight doesn't make a ton of sense yet."
"That's probably why they wanted to wait to tell you," surmised Othniel. "We've only begun our magical training a few short months ago… a magical war sounds like a pretty heavy-duty topic to me."
"No kidding," said Harry. He was cut off by a sudden, gentle rapping on the bedroom door. "Erm, hello?"
The wooden door creaked as it slowly opened. "Hi," came the whispered response.
"Nova?!" exclaimed Harry and Othniel.
"Yeah, it's me," Nova whispered. "I'm… having a hard time falling asleep – I took that bloody melatonin forty minutes ago and it's still not kicking in yet. I hope neither of you mind if I camp out in here tonight?" She nudged Othniel with her foot. "Up you get, Beckett."
Othniel sighed. "I s'pose that's my cue to climb in your bed, Harry." He got up from his cot and got on the other side of Harry's full-size bed.
"Don't hog the blanket," Harry groaned with a trace of annoyance.
Meanwhile, Nova cozied herself up in the cot previously occupied by Othniel. She found the stiff canvas to be a lot less comfortable than the plush twin-sized mattress she was laying down on in the guest room, but she had to admit the trade-off was worth it. "Thank you," she murmured as she fluffed her pillow.
"Don't mention it," Harry whispered back.
"We ended up taking some of that melatonin ourselves a few minutes ago," added Othniel. "So if you took it forty minutes ago, then we might not be out for a good while then…"
"What I wouldn't give for a sleeping draught," agreed Nova. "Thank Merlin Professor Lupin and Black are going to the wizarding district tomorrow."
"So, how are you liking Surrey so far?" asked Harry. "You don't regret leaving the castle for Thanksgiving, do you?"
Nova grimaced. "It's a little overwhelming, Harry. I think you know that." She sighed softly to herself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. While meeting my birth parents is a huge deal – one night is scarcely enough time to make up for being apart for fourteen years – I cannot deny the connection that I felt when I got off the train. There's just a certain safety in Daddy's arms… and Mum… she's more magical than she'll ever know."
"In other words, nothing like how your grandparents described them," chuckled Harry. "So, are you thinking of returning for Christmas break?"
"I'm not going to lie, I'm not used to spending time in a nearly magic-free house," Nova admitted. "So many strange Muggle devices – I'm not saying that's bad or anything – but it's just so different than what I'm used to." She stopped to ponder for a moment. "Most likely, I'll be returning to Great Britain to spend Christmas with my grandparents, just like the past two years. They may be stubborn and narrow-minded, but they're also the people that raised me."
"Are you going to tell them that you visited your birth parents for Thanksgiving?" asked Othniel. "How well d'you think they'd take it?"
Again, there was a pause in the air before Nova responded. "At some point, I'll tell them. I'm not exactly sure how to bring it up, but a goal of mine is to have my birth parents and my grandparents reconcile at some point. I'm three years away from being considered an adult in the wizarding world – I'm not as oblivious to what's going on as my grandparents think I am. They need to understand that I'm my own person, and that I'm responsible for my own choices… I'm not going to parrot everything they do or say just because they're my grandparents – I know right from wrong, and a lot of their outdated and hurtful views are absolutely wrong. I don't expect them to pull a 180 and suddenly be sympathetic to Muggle-borns or anything, but they should at least accept the fact that there are those in the wizarding world that think differently than they do, and to respect those differences."
"Muggle-born?" asked Othniel in a puzzled tone.
"No-maj born," clarified Harry. "Muggle-born is the British version."
"I see," replied Othniel. "So certain families in Magical Britain look down on others… sort of like the Old Money and Commoner rivalry we have here."
"It's quite a bit like that, yes," agreed Nova. "There are a handful of families in Magical Britain that think they're above everyone else. They're called purebloods, meaning all known family members are magical. And they want to keep it that way. Under certain circumstances, it may be acceptable to marry a particularly influential half-blood, but it's utterly blasphemous to marry a Muggle-born, or as they say derisively, 'mudblood'. Doing so would risk disinheritance – just ask Sirius."
"But Sirius didn't get disinherited for marrying a no-maj born," Harry said. "He joined some sort of rebellion… Order of the Phoenix, I think."
"Yes, but that's what happened to his cousin Andromeda a while back," clarified Nova. "It was a pretty scandalous event, according to my grandparents. It was a bit before my time so I can't say first-hand."
"It's probably just as well I'm in North America then," sighed Harry. "I know it's not perfect, but it sounds a lot more uptight over there."
"Magical Britain clings to tradition like barnacles on a ship's hull," giggled Nova. "Magical North America isn't without its flaws, but at least it's possible for a Commoner to marry into an Old Money family and not have major repercussions."
"What are some of the flaws of magical North America?" inquired Othniel.
"You're Muggle… err, no-maj born," squeaked Nova. "You've heard of some Italian-American organized crime syndicates? Like, the Mafia?"
"Oh yeah," chuckled Othniel. "I stayed over at a friend's house last year and we watched The Godfather." He lowered his voice. "That's between us… if my parents ever find out that I watched an R-rated movie…"
"If they haven't found out by now, they probably never will," laughed Harry.
"Anyway, quite a few of the Old Money families are pretty crooked," elaborated Nova. "For instance, they may loan out money to Commoners with ridiculous interest rates, or they may just give them the money and let them know that they owe them a favor, which the family reserves the right to invoke at any time. It usually involves something rather… unsavory."
"Remind me not to get mixed up with Old Money families," grumbled Othniel.
"As long as you're not desperate for money, you should be fine," giggled Nova. She let a small yawn escape from her lips. "I think that melatonin is finally starting to kick in. G'night, boys."
"G'night," echoed Harry and Othniel. It wasn't long before the boys' eyelids started getting heavy; by the time eleven o'clock rolled around, all three children were slumbering peacefully.
The next morning, the children were awakened by the aroma of scrambled eggs, bacon, and English muffins. Rhonda was at the stove, humming as she was whisking several eggs. Roger was seated at the circular kitchen table, enjoying a mug of hot, black coffee.
"Good morning, kids," purred Rhonda as she scooped some fluffy yellow eggs on to some plates. "There's milk and orange juice in the refrigerator. I'll have your breakfasts on the table in a jiffy."
"Thanks," said Nova as she took her seat next to her father.
"So Uncle Roger," Harry said as he poured himself a glass of milk. "D'you think I can go with Remus and Padfoot to the wizarding district today? I haven't been to the one in Vancouver yet…"
"I'm not sure, Hare," replied Roger, taking a sip of his still-hot coffee. "I've never been myself, so I can't vouch for its safety."
"Well, I'll be with two adults," countered Harry. "and it can't be that dangerous, can it?"
"I just don't want you to get lost is all," sighed Roger. "Merlin knows what kind of shady characters you'll come across… Knockturn Alley in London is full of them!"
Nova's ears perked up. "You've actually been to Knockturn Alley, Daddy? Is it really as wanton and filthy as your parents say?"
"Every bit, Nova love," replied Roger. "I've been, but not on purpose. It's not a crowd you really want to mingle with… nothing but fences and junkheads!"
Nova tilted her head. "How'd you end up there, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Let me put it this way," chuckled Roger. "Don't mumble your words when you want to floo somewhere, otherwise you might end up somewhere you really don't want to be."
"Floo?" asked Othniel, who had never heard of such a method of transportation.
"I used the floo for the first time earlier this term," Harry said. "I tried it out in Remus' office once. Basically, it's a network of connected fireplaces that you can use after you throw a pinch of greenish powder on the ground."
Roger's face lit up. "So, how'd it treat you, Hare?"
Harry shrugged. "Well, it was a little weird when I did it, but at least I made it through in one piece."
"This house isn't connected by floo, is it?" asked Nova.
"I'm afraid not," replied Roger. "We're living off-the-grid so to speak, as far as the magical world is concerned."
"That had to have been quite an adjustment," murmured Nova in between sips of milk. "I don't know if I could give up magic at the drop of a hat."
"It wasn't easy," admitted Roger. "But I had to do it for Harry's sake. If I twirled my wand around with reckless abandon, there's no telling what kind of unwanted attention I'd attract!" He then turned his attention toward Harry. "I'll ask Remus and Sirius to see if they'll let the three of you tag along; that is, assuming they're still going."
"Awesome, thanks Uncle Roger," Harry yelped with excitement.
"You're welcome, Hare," Roger chuckled. "I'm afraid poor Remus is going to have his work cut out for him… he'd have you three and Sirius to keep in line…"
"What's wrong with Sirius?" Othniel asked with innocence.
Roger offered Othniel a slight grin. "Old Padfoot's a good bloke and all, but as he's – and I quote – an eligible bachelor, he'll ask just about any attractive witch he sees on a date. Merlin, he's even asked a few non-magicals on dates." He shrugged. "To his credit, he's been fairly successful, but I just wish he'd find one and stick with her… truth be told, I think he's struggled to cope with the death of his fiancée ten years ago…"
Harry's eyes widened. "Who was she, if you don't mind telling us?"
Roger let out a small, sad sigh. "Anastasia Cherrywine. Like your parents, she was one of Voldemort's victims." He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Do me a favor, Hare… don't bring it up with Sirius. It's… a sensitive topic of sorts."