⟨⟨ ꪑꪖ𝓽𝓲ꪶᦔꪖ ⟨⟨

[ Alright Maggie the people have had quite enough of you, now hand over the quill, you're hogging it! ]

Hello, lovelies, Mati here. You may refer to me as Her Marvelous Majesty, the superior twin, or the supreme witch extraordinaire.

Now, then, let's see where we left off, shall we? The Malfoys', the Knight Bus, yes, yes, yes… We had just gotten off the bus, yeah? Now we were standing on a bridge overlooking the city of London in the middle of the night…

I quite liked the city at night. The moon reflected off the water in the distance and the multicolored lights gave off a certain feng shui that other places couldn't quite capture. It was peaceful, despite the distant sound of traffic, and gorgeous and I just adored it. After that horrid horrid trip on the bus I was more than willing to soak it all in.

I was twirling over the bridge, letting my imagination run rampant with a magical dream of knights and warrior princesses, as I basked in the glory of my surroundings. The skirt of my new dress robes flared outwards as I spun and spun.

It was a darling thing, that dress, made from expensive aqua blue satin and lace with a dip hem and decorative jewels running down the train, which sparkled when they caught in the light of the moon. The dress was made for someone much taller than me, I admit, and the sleeves were rather long and kept slipping off my shoulders, so I would have to make some adjustments, of course, but all in all it was perfect.

I thought I might get some rings or necklaces to match it, but I doubted Magnus would allow it since it wasn't a 'practical' purchase. If you asked him, he'd tell you that all our belongings should be critical for our survival, but I thought we ought to be allowed some things for pure enjoyment.

Life shouldn't be solely about survival, after all… one ought to be allowed to live it as well.

Oh well. A girl could dream…

I leaned over the bridge's railing, watching the waves move back and forth, smelling the salty air. The massive Ferris wheel was looming over the riverside, Big Ben the clock tower overlooking the whole city…

Night time London really was a beautiful sight… I might have stared at it until morning if I could.

Maggie on the other hand doesn't appreciate the simple things in life, not the way I do, and so he didn't spare our new view much of a glance. Instead, he was smirking at our famous tag along.

"So, Neville, eh?"

"It was the first name I could think of…"

"Oh? And why were you thinking of Longbottom, Potter?"

"Er…"

"It's okay. No need to be embarrassed. I'd shag him too if we were all a bit older."

"Shut up, Maggie," I snapped.

"What?" he said. "I'm being serious. I really would shag him if we were older. We're only, like, thirteen, otherwise I'd do it now."

"And why, pray tell, would Neville be interested in you?"

"I can dream, Tilly!"

I punched him in the arm, just becuz I thought that was a bit thick of him, didn't you? Neville and my brother. Please. Now, he might have a shot with Seamus Finnigan or Dean Thomas, maybe. He may even stand a chance with one of my friends Lavender or Parvati, who, though I do love them dearly, have significantly low standards when it comes to dating partners.

I mean, look at him. He's an utterly hopeless case. I was forced to always fix his clothes due to his absolutely horrid eye for fashion. Colour coordination is something he was born with out, somedays I am certain that he was colour blind.

His hair… no. Just no. It was horridly thin and it was an odd shade too as if it couldn't decide between being brown and being blonde so genetics just stopped somewhere in between. It could have worked for him if he let me fix it but something about boys like him… I dunno, it's like they think looking nice is a crime or something.

I on the other hand am completely flawless besides this one horrid tooth that looks a bit taller than the rest but then that's hardly noticeable at all unless you're really looking for it. My hair was a perfect shade of dark blonde that complimented my eyes (blue) quite nicely if I do say so myself.

Clearly I had fallen at the better end of the gene pool.

Anyway.

Maggie was rubbing his arm where I'd hit him, and I was asking Harry, "Why did you need a fake name?"

He mumbled something I didn't quite catch, and when I asked him to repeat himself he seemed reluctant to do so, but eventually, he told me anyway.

"I blew up my aunt…"

Now, I don't know about you but when someone says they "blew" someone up, I'm thinking in a great big explosion with fire and mushroom clouds and loud booms. But what Harry meant was,

"I got mad at something she said about my parents, and she turned into a balloon. She started floating towards the ceiling…"

Maggie, who had a terrible sense of humor from time to time, was laughing his rear end off at the sound of this. "Are we talking, like, full on Violet Beauregarde, with oompa loompas and everything?"

I hit him again for that. Then, to Harry, I said, "Ignore him. Continue."

"I figured the Ministry wouldn't be too happy about any of that, so I decided to leave the Dursleys'."

Harry looked absolutely guilt ridden and I felt a little sorry for him. His parents were killed, you know, in the most awful way you can think of.

I do suppose any witches or wizards reading this might have already heard the story enough times for it to become somewhat stale and boring, but on the off chance there's someone who doesn't know: Harry's parents were Murdered. By You-Know-I-Have-a-Stupid-Name-if-Noone-Can-be-Bothered-to-Say-it-Properly. That "Dark Lord" fellow, you know.

[ I myself considered him to be more of a Lame Lord than a Dark Lord, becuz I am a firm believer that you are not allowed to nickname yourself. You can't just start calling yourself something ridiculous like "Dark Lord Voldemort" and expect everyone to just use it without question, especially when it doesn't even make any sense. What sort of name is Voldemort anyway? Who came up with that? ]

With the loss of his parents Harry was forced to live with his aunt and uncle in the muggle world. I've heard through the grapevine that they weren't very good to him either, so I didn't blame him for losing control like that. What sort of wretched person insults the dead anyway?

Still, Harry looked terribly guilty anyway, it was very oviously an accident. I couldn't see why the Ministry of Magic would be upset with him over it myself, but clearly he thought it would be an issue for whatever reason and that was enough to warrant sympathy from me.

Maggie saw things differently. It took a grand total of seven seconds for him to turn into an arsehole after Harry said that. Folding his arms in a huff and saying, "So, you decided you'd slum it with the street kids, did you? Just for kicks? Just becuz you got pissed off? Well, I suppose living comfortably is overrated anyway."

From the scowl on Harry's face, I was beginning to worry that I might have to break up a fight between the two of them.

"If you want to have a go living with them, be my guest! I'd switch places any day."

"Sure, Potter. Let's trade places. Which way to your aunt and uncle's?" Magnus made a show of looking around in search of the Dursleys' house (honestly God help those poor people if he ever found himself on their doorstep). "I'd love an actual bed for once."

"Try sleeping in the cupboard!"

"Try sleeping on the ground !"

Both of them had their voices raised by this point, and I had taken to eyeing the shadows, as screaming tended to attract unwanted attention. I had to reign them in…

"Guys c'mon," I tried. "Let's not compare traumas here …"

Magnus was not letting it go. He was going on and on, getting louder and louder, bound and determined to win the argument he started.

"It's not a game, Potter. It's not some nifty quirk you can try out becuz you're tired or angry or whatever. People live out here, Tilly and I live out here," He threw his arms about wildly gesturing to the streets around us, "becuz we don't have a choice, we don't have anywhere else." He poked Harry in the chest, which is admittedly a feat since Harry is a good foot taller than the both of us put together. "You do have somewhere and you spit on it. Why?"

Something started moving in the alley across the street. Definitely a person, becuz it was too big and tall to be a cat or a raccoon, but whether they were a witch or wizard or werewolf or vampire was unclear. They could be a drunk and confused muggle for all I knew, but I had to be ready for a fight anyway. Nighttime London was as dangerous as it was beautiful…

"Becuz you're in a bad mood. Becuz you're aunt is a bitch and you can't swallow your pride and just ignore her stupidity the way a normal person might. You have to pop off and make a great big scene of it all."

The figure was standing on the street corner now, just under the lamp post. A silhouette in the darkness; I couldn't make out any defining traits from the distance.

Just in case, I wrapped my hand firmly around the switchblade I kept in my pocket at all times. In case of emergencies. In case someone wanted to fight in the muggle world where I couldn't use magic.

I didn't think either of the boys noticed when I started pushing them farther into the shadows, hoping to keep us hidden from the stranger if only they'd shut up.

Harry was practically red in the face and shaking now with fists clenched at his sides. He spoke through gritted teeth, "Shut it, Pettigrew…"

"Or what, Potter? Are you going to puff me up like a bubble too?"

"Boys, please. Be quiet."

The stranger had moved again. On the bridge. A yard away.

"No, I'm sick of this. I'm sick of people having all this rubbish and then taking it for granted when there's people out here who are struggling for real. If I had half of what you people had –"

"Magnus," I snapped. "Shut your fucking mouth."

That was when he finally realised something was up, the thick headed git that he was. I only ever used his real name when I was thoroughly to my limit and needed him to seriously pay attention.

He caught sight of the stranger and jumped behind me. They passed under a street light, thirty centimeters away. I got a glimpse of something in their hand: a shiny silver blade, metal glinting in the night.

I knew the stranger had already seen us, then. There'd be a fight after all, possibly an ugly one if I didn't end it fast.

I withdrew my own knife, flicking the blade open, bending my elbow, and holding it in front of my body.

Harry, bless him for his bravery, started forward, presumably to offer his assistance, but I waved him back. I knew what I was doing, and I doubted he had ever held a knife before, never mind being taught how to use one in a fight. I didn't need him getting in the way.

I stepped into the light, hoping to get the stranger's attention. It worked. The figure stopped dead when they saw I had a weapon too.

The number one rule in a knife fight: avoid the fight at all costs. Stay far away from striking distance. The second rule: don't be an idiot. Don't strike first, keep your distance, keep moving, don't throw your knife, and don't try to grab the opponent's from them either.

Now it was a game of intimidation.

We locked eyes.

They stepped forward; I stepped back. The train of my dress robes tripped me, I stumbled but managed to catch myself, and I was forced to cut it off with my blade (though it did pain me a great deal to ruin perfectly good fabric), now the skirt came to a stop at my thigh, allowing me to move much easier.

The stranger took advantage of my distraction. They charged forward, swiping at me with their own weapon, and thank Merlin I had been blessed with such quick reflexes. I managed to dodge out of the way just in time, and with a swift turn I gave a slash of my own.

My knife made contact with their knuckles, but the stranger held tight to their blade.

I scrambled back, desperate to keep away from that large, sharp blade of theirs. The stranger followed me.

As they came further into the light I got a better look at them: a tall, gangly man who must have been in his late thirties or early forties with horrible matted hair and yellow teeth and ripped and tattered wizard robes that did him absolutely no favors.

I knew from his stance he must have gotten into a lot of knife fights in his time, though judging from the state of the scars slashed over his wrists and face he must have also lost a great deal of those fights as well.

Still, he had a much larger hunting knife clenched between his fist; I didn't fancy my odds very much.

Keeping my eyes on his blade, I circled around the bridge, aiming to steer Dodgy Janus (as I had elected to call him in my head) away from my brother and Harry.

It worked.

He followed my movements, coming forward whenever I went backwards. His eyes kept flickering between me and the trunk Harry had been carrying along with him. There was a wild look in them, which didn't bode well. Wild meant chaotic, and a chaotic fighter meant for a dangerous one.

Dodgy Janus croaked with a hoarse voice, "Just hand over everything in that trunk, and we can all go our separate ways…"

"Fat chance," I said back.

"You don't want to fight me, little girl."

"Didn't want to ruin this dress either, but here we are."

He charged at me again, swiping wildly with his hunting knife, and I only just managed to get out of the way. He kept coming, swinging left and right. It was all I could do to dodge, I couldn't get my blade near him. Dodgy Janus was much too wild and unpredictable.

Somewhere off to the left of me, I heard Harry saying, "We should help her."

Magnus didn't respond, but I couldn't risk taking my eyes off Dodgy Janus long enough to look to see where he'd gotten off to. I could only hope that neither of the boys were planning anything stupid. The last thing I needed was them getting in the way and getting hurt.

I ducked as Dodgy Janus' knife swung over my head and again when he tried to stab at my side. I needed to get a good clean, slash at his wrist, to disarm him, this fight was already going on much, much longer than I would have liked, but Dodgy Janus was moving much too fast. I couldn't get an opening to strike at him.

There was a moment, I contemplated withdrawing my wand. Sure, my thirteenth birthday wasn't for another week, and underaged witches couldn't use magic outside of school… but, well, I do suppose it would be alright to break one tiny little law if one's life was in danger…

Eyes still on Dodgy Janus' blade, my hand went to my pocket, blindly grabbing for my wand. It was rather a difficult task when someone was swinging a weapon in my face with little care at all. At one point the wand brushed my fingers, but I fumbled it when Dodgy Janus got my arm.

My wand dropped to the ground and went rolling across the bridge. I stumbled back, holding my now bleeding arm close to me, Dodgy Janus hot on my tail. I had a moment of panic, and then I caught sight of Magnus from behind the madman. He pointed quickly at the discarded train on the ground before disappearing again.

I knew what he was getting at, and turned my body, backing towards the train on the ground. Dodgy Janus was just thick enough to follow me. Walking backwards, I was careful to step directly over the train, all the while keeping my knife held in front of me, blood dripping down the now ruined dress robes from my cut.

The only problem was that Dodgy Janus also stepped over the train, inching closer and closer. I took a swing, hoping to force him to back up, but sadly it was of no use.

Magnus shouted for his attention, and when he had it, he held a bag of the galleons up for all to see.

"We've got more where these came from," Magnus said. "You can have these ones." At Dodgy Janus' skeptical look, he added, "But drop the knife or it all goes floating down the river, along with everything in the trunk."

Dodgy Janus bared his teeth, and my muscles tensed, ready for action in case he made to jump at my brother. "You're bluffing," he snarled. "You wouldn't just throw away that much money –"

"Whoops." Magnus tossed the bag over his shoulder, sending it hurtling into the river below us. Pity as we had worked very hard to steal all that.

Dodgy Janus wasn't happy either. He let out a cry of, "You little —" and lunged at Magnus, knife in hand, but in his hasty attack, his feet stepped on the dress's train, and Magnus moved much faster, grabbing the fabric from the ground and yanking it out from under Dodgy Janus' feet.

Our would-be mugger fell to the ground, his jaw smashing against the concrete and chipping a tooth. Magnus tossed the other end of the train over Dodgy Janus so it covered his face, blinding him. Quickly, I folded my knife and bolted, leaping over the man as he struggled to free himself from the fabric he was all wrapped up in.

Magnus and Harry ran with me, only Dodgy Janus managed to slash through the fabric of the train as they passed, and he grabbed Harry around the ankle. When Harry tripped and fell, his glasses skidded across the bridge, which meant he couldn't see when Dodgy Janus brought his hunting knife to his throat.

I dived for my wand, but came to a sudden stop under the street light. I had caught sight of a large, dark silhouette splashed over the concrete. A deep, guttural growl echoed around the bridge. Everyone froze as a big, (and when I say big, I mean practically gigantic) black dog (seriously, this thing was basically a wolf) emerged from the shadows ten centimeters in front of me, teeth bared in a snarl, fur sticking up at his back.

The dog bounded towards Dodgy Janus, who released Harry and scrambled to his feet, eyes wide; the dog gave a few warning snaps before pouncing on the man, really sinking his teeth in when he bit him; Dodgy Janus tried to run, but the dog had its jaws locked on his wrist, not letting go until Dodgy Janus jammed the hunting knife into the dog's side.

The dog let go of Dodgy Janus with a loud yelp of pain, and I winced at the sound of it. Dodgy Janus looked smug for a moment, but he had made the mistake of losing his weapon, and even with the knife still hanging out of its side, the dog recovered from the attack fast, and it was bearing down on the man again in seconds, as if it had a personal vendetta against him.

"Come on," Magnus said, watching the scene solemnly. "Let's get out of here before the dog gets bored with its chew toy and decides the three of us look like more fun."

"Hold on–" Harry started, as he put his glasses back on.

"Potter, we're not grabbing your trunk. There's nothing in there worth risking your life for, or more importantly to me, my sister's life!"

"No. I know. But, that dog. I've seen it before. In Little Whinging."

"That's fascinating, really." Magnus pushed him in the opposite direction. "Let's go!"

Now that the fight was over and my adrenaline was wearing off, my arm was aching, but mostly I was feeling very distraught over how quickly I had ruined my brand new dress robes. The skirt was cut very unevenly, slanting to one side, and there were large blood stains down the front thanks to my arm that wouldn't stop bleeding. In several places, the fabric had been slashed and ripped. There was no saving it now, unless I opted to use it for a Halloween costume…

"Tilly, let me see your arm."

"Hm?"

"Come on, before you bleed to death!"

I held my arm out in my brother's general direction and let him wrap it up with the gauze he'd nicked from the corner store a few days ago. Thankfully, the cut didn't seem that bad, just throbbing a bit, but it wasn't bleeding too badly, and I do suppose I might be able to find an adult wizard or witch at The Square to magic the wound away for me all together.

"How do you get into this Square place?" Harry asked. "Actually, what is The Square?"

I let Maggie answer, becuz my arms and legs felt like lead, and my energy levels were dropping by the second.

"It's a place where homeless witches and wizards gather up to sleep at night and eat during the day," Maggie said, then waved his hand and backtracked. "No, it's actually mostly filled with squibs, and werewolves, and sometimes the occasional elf, and there's some muggles too, people with magical kids who cause problems or destroy the house, since they can't control their magic yet. The muggle parents have a time of it explaining the destruction to their landlords, so they end up on the streets, and The Square takes them in. It's a safe haven for people with real problems."

"But how do you get there?" Harry asked. I was glad that he decided to ignore the subtle jab, but my housemate still sounded very much annoyed, and I could only let out a long, tired sigh myself. These two were giving me a splitting headache.

"Well, first we'll need to go into a cave and fight a deformed stoorish hobbit for a ring…"

"What?" Harry stared back at him dubiously. It looked as if he were trying to figure out if Maggie was being serious or not.

"I'm referencing Lord of the Rings, you frog guts for brains!"

Harry's face was messing up with annoyance, and I was much too exhausted for another shouting match between the two, so I intervened, "We're already here, Harry. It's just Trafalgar Square. Well, under it. There's a lift in the fountain. You'll see. Magnus, be nice. I mean it."

"Yes, Mum, whatever you say."

I sighed as Harry and I watched my brother head across the street towards a cluster of people gathered around the Lion statue. "Sorry about him, Harry…"

"How do you stand him?"

"He's my brother, Harry." The words came out a bit harsh, much harsher than I had intended; in my defense I was hurt and exhausted and I was frankly sick of these boys throwing their tantrums.

And Alright, I admit from time to time I hate my brother quite a bit. When he steals the last slice of pizza for instance or when he insists on controlling every single little thing. Sometimes he pushes my buttons on purpose and sometimes he's so cynical it gets on my last nerves.

But see the thing is I'm still very much protective of him. He is my brother after all. The only one I've got and the truth is I wasn't sure I'd be able to survive as long as I have without him, we were a team my brother and I. I was the one who made sure people didn't mess with us and he was the one who made sure we didn't starve or freeze to death in the middle of the night.

I didn't very much appreciate people complaining about him, even if he was being a bit of a pratt to Harry and sort of deserved it, it's just instinct to protect him, you know?

"He's alright really, he's just got very strong opinions is all."

"Oh, that's all is it?"

I took a deep breath, trying not to get too irritated. With the way Maggie had been acting, of course Harry would feel hostile towards him. I had to remind myself of that. Biting Harry's head off would not help matters at all. Even though Harry wasn't doing anything at all to deescalate the situation.

"Look. Maybe if you actually got to know him—"

Harry scoffed. "Get to know a Slytherin? Sure, and then I guess I can invite Voldemort over for tea right after."

I grit my teeth and started to say, "You know what, Harry—" But I caught myself just in time; I closed my eyes and took a moment to collect myself before speaking again, "Never mind. Let's catch up to him, yeah?"

"Yeah, alright."

I led him over to the fountain with the neon lights glowing under the water. "Stand there," I told him, pointing at a specific square tile on the fountain's ledge, the one I'd marked with red and green paint a few years back.

Harry wordlessly climbed up and did as I told him, and he looked around with curious and confused expressions when I joined him.

"You said this was a lift?" He asked.

"Mhm."

"But there's people everywhere!"

"It's charmed so they don't realise it's here. Besides, it's like Stan was saying earlier; muggles don't notice much. They can't see the lift, Harry."

"An invisible lift?"

"Mhm."

He was saying it like it was something new and amazing, and I do suppose to him it must have been, but I had been coming here since forever, and I already knew the place like the back of my hand. Perhaps I had become a bit desensitized when it came to The Square's amazement. It was a fairly gorgeous sight, objectively speaking, though a tad plain for my liking.

The lift traveled down a hundred yards, and opened up to a vast, oval courtyard that went on for miles and miles. Tents covered every millimeter of the copplestone; most people were still asleep but as it was now rounding on six in the morning there were a few crawling out from their sleeping bags and huddling around multicolored fires crackling inside every tin barrel they could find.

At the far end of The Square, a wooden booth was selling cauldrons which promised to keep your soup fresh all year round (though Maggie says those things are scams that prey on the poverty stricken and contribute to consumerism whatever that means). Another vendor was selling hats and mittens and blankets that had been charmed to keep young children extra warm during the chilly night hours. Shopping carts were on every corner and filled with people's personal belongings; most of them were charmed to keep thieves away (which meant that if anyone unauthorized touched the cart their hands would gain permanent burn scars).

Harry moved at a snail's pace, taking it all in as I did my best to steer him in the right direction. In a place such as this, not everyone took kindly to being ogled at.

Some have rather nasty injuries on their faces, such as the old jazz musician Bleus, who's quite sensitive about his missing eyes but is other wise a decent old chap. Others, like Dodgy Janus back on the bridge, are just looking for an excuse to fight; their lives haven't gone the right way and they want to take it out on the first person who makes eye contact.

I rather didn't fancy getting into another fight so soon, personally, my arm still needed tending to, and I severely needed a nap and a chance to mourn my once beautiful gown.

Still, Harry finds himself brave enough, or stupid enough, to stop and watch as a three year old wizard waved his rattle and turned a rock into a turtle with a bedazzled shell. The baby's mother caught sight of us, and when Harry waved (trying to be polite) she glared at us, scooped her son into her arms, and bolted back inside her tent, zipping it up tight behind her.

Harry looked at me in confusion, but I only offered him a shrug. I didn't have enough stamina to explain it all to him. I did bend down to pick the turtle off the ground, though. Couldn't have the little guy getting stepped on, could we?

"Our tent's this way," I said, pointing towards the orange tent that was positioned a few yards away from everyone else's. Maggie was convinced someone would steal our things in the middle of the night if we camped too close to anyone else, but I've always said that thieves were the most paranoid about theft.

Maggie wasn't anywhere in sight, so I assumed he'd already slipped inside the tent. Probably to count the loot we'd made off with from the Malfoys'.

"You can go in if you want to sleep, sorry it's just a normal muggle tent, not a fancy wizard tent; I'm going to go see a friend about this." I raised my arm in Harry's direction. When Harry looked apprehensively at the tent, I added, "Maggie won't say anything to you. He'll probably just be giving you the silent treatment for the rest of the night. I know his attitude doesn't show it sometimes, but he really doesn't like confrontation."

Harry looked like he wanted to say something about that, but instead he said, "Can't I just go with you?"

I shrugged and placed the bedazzled turtle in my pocket. "C'mon, then."

He followed me through the line of tents, around a blazing tin barrel and dented shopping cart, past this one dodgy pair who may or may not have been exchanging muggle narcotics, and up to the small, banged up and rusted camper on the other side of the courtyard.

It was a modest little campsite with a faded blue awning stretched out from the roof of the camper, hovering over a plastic picnic table, a pair of ripped green and blue lawn chairs, and a foldable pool table. In the center of it all was a fire pit alight with flames of every colour of the rainbow, from yellow, to crimson, to emerald, to cyan; on a better night I might have been much more appreciative, much more enamored by the fire's beauty, but alas, one can only take in so much.

The fire was casting a faint glow over the camper's occupants, who had all gathered underneath the awning. Four people in total.

Two raggedy geezers stood around the pool table, each with a collapsible cue in their hands; they were twins, like Maggie and me, only they were identical, both with graying hair and square glasses over their eyes and a handful of differences between the two.

The heavier set man on the left, the one with the crooked, broken nose and glasses with cracked lenses, was leaning on his cue stick, but he stood up right when he seen me and Harry approaching. "Mornin', Mati."

The thinner twin, with the long fingers and knuckles that were always wrapped in bandages and an awful scar (from a previous knife fight) that went over his right eye and took up half his face; he didn't look up from the pool table as he bent over to take his shot. "Who's your friend?"

"Uh, right." My mind was so foggy I'd almost forgotten to introduce everyone. "Harry, meet Garry Lee, that's the one with the scar, and Larry Gee, the one with the broken glasses, And over there with the knitting, that's their sister Marry McFee."

Marry, the lovely old woman sitting at the picnic table with her knitting needles magically hovering over her head, looked up at us and waved kindly. "Hello, dears. Lovely to meet you, Harry."

"What'd be lovely is if Gare here took some pool lessons," Larry snarked as he bent over the table. "Look at this. Left me with nothing to work with…" He shook his head and pulled his cue back.

"I'm half blind," Garry shot back, gesturing at the right side of his face."An actual glass eye. What's your excuse?"

"I'm related to you," Larry said, as the pool balls clacked together. "That kind of misfortune is difficult to get over."

Marry clicked her tongue and wagged her finger at her brothers. "Stop talking like that, you two. You're going to scare off Mati's friend."

"He doesn't seem to mind," Garry shrugged off her concern.

"Yeah, look at 'im, he's grinning like the Cheshire Cat," Larry added.

This did seem to be true enough. Harry was next to me, looking like he was trying and failing miserably to hold in his laughter at Garry and Larry's antics, though I do suppose their sense of humor could be considered an acquired taste.

While the geezers began mimicking Harry's "grin" I turned to my fellow Griffindor and explained (for clarity's sake in case anything got twisted). "You can't take anything these two say too seriously. If they aren't picking on you, they don't much like you."

Harry nodded in understanding. "They're a bit like Fred and George, then, yeah?"

Fred and George Weasley were another pair of twins at Hogwarts, renowned for their various pranks and gimmicks. I didn't socialize with them as often as Harry did, as they were two years my senior, but I heard their names around the halls quite a bit. They were a rather popular pair at school, and always up to no good.

"Exactly. Except they're old and Larry's always losing his denchers."

"Wouldn't lose 'em so much if you kept them in your mouth where they belong," Garry told Larry. "And the rest of us could understand you when you talked." He slapped his brother on the belly with that one and cackled loudly.

"Least I don't lose my wand like Marry," Larry laughs.

"You're a squib, Lare," Marry said, taking a long sip from her tea cup and flicking her wand to keep her knitting needles moving. "You don't have a wand."

I was hardly paying attention to the arguing siblings, however, as I had just remembered my own lost wand. I thought I'd gotten it back, but now that things have settled down I realized I never actually picked it up. The dog had shown up and…

Oh no…

A sense of dread was washing over me. Fortunately, Maggie and I had gotten enough money tonight that paying for a new wand shouldn't have been much of an issue, but I was never ever going to live this one down. A witches wand is her livelihood; to lose it or break it or have it stolen is to bring great shame to her name.

"Matilda Ann, what in God's name did you do to your arm?"

This came from the younger woman sitting in one of the lawn chairs, the one with brown hair cut into a gorgeous short bob coming to a stop at her ears and fierce hazel eyes that let everyone know messing with her was a horrible horrible idea, the woman I most aspired to be to tell the truth, even as she raised her voice at me and stared at my cut disapprovingly. She was the closest thing I'd ever get to having a mother, and she'd never miss an opportunity to scold me like a mum either. Her name was Tammi, and she'd been looking after me and my brother since we were three.

"I was getting to that, Tam…" I muttered. All of them had stopped what they were doing to look at me as I told them about Dodgy Janus; which meant I also had to confess about losing my wand; Harry stood next to me looking awkward, like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to jump in and help explain or not; he decided to remain silent, which was just as well; I'm not entirely sure he'd have much to add anyway.

Tammi only sighed at the end of the tale, and she shot a harsh look Garry's way. He was the one who'd taught me to fight; he was the one who gave me my knife as well. "I wish you'd quit giving her weapons."

"Eh," Garry swatted the air as if that might make Tammi's concern go away. "A young lady has a right to defend herself and her friends."

"I don't want you putting ideas in her head," Tammi insisted and then she turned to me and said, "You're not invincible, Mati."

"I know that…" I muttered. "But what was I supposed to do? Just let that guy mug us at knife point?"

"You were supposed to walk the other way and leave him be."

"Did I mention he had a knife?"

"Yes, Matilda. I can see where it cut you."

"It's not that big of a deal. We can fix it with magic. Marry has healing potions in the trailer…"

At this point the rest of the lot was pretending they'd gone deaf, busying themselves with their knitting and pool games respectively; Harry was trying very hard to look interested in learning how to play pool from the two geezers, but I'm afraid he just wasn't a very good actor.

Tammi was still scolding me, something fierce, "And what would have been your plan had that man hit an artery instead? It only takes minutes, minutes, to bleed out, Matilda." and this is how I knew she was very very cross with me, becuz she had used my full name three times now.

"There would be no time to run to Marry for a healing potion or the hospital for stitches for that matter." Tammi was talking with her hands now, the way she did when she was thoroughly worked up over something. "And what's more you lost your wand, you might have lost your knife too if you kept going the way you were. This man sounds like he was twice your age, twice your size, and likely had twice your experience."

She held up another finger with each point she made, and ended by pointing at me. "You were lucky tonight, but what happens when that luck runs out? Hm? You can't possibly hope to win every fight, Matilda. You're going to have to pick your battles more carefully."

I wanted to argue, more than anything I wanted to argue that there really hadn't been a better option at the time.

Honestly, it wasn't like I spent most of my time looking for fights, but I'm also not afraid to get into one if I need to either, and I had needed to fight back there, that man would have sliced us all to bits otherwise; besides, Tammi's worries were unwarranted; the few fights I'd managed to get myself into I'd always ended fast and I'd always been the one to come out with the least amount of injuries.

I had yet to properly lose a fight.

Still. I did feel bad about causing Tammi grief, and she was wearing one of those expressions that warned me not to argue with her. This conversation, as far as she was concerned, was over.

I knew I couldn't get her to see things from my perspective so instead I folded my arms in a huff (which I do admit not was quite childish), "You never say anything to Maggie about him sneaking into people's houses and taking their things."

"Oh, no, we've had words about that, too, believe me." Tammi shot a dirty look at Larry, who began whistling in a not so inconspicuous manner (see, while Garry had been teaching me to fight, Larry had been turning my brother into the world's youngest con artist).

"Now go take care of that, yeah?" Tammi said, gesturing at my arm. "And while you're at it, offer your friend something to eat, yeah?"

"Yeah, alright. C'mon Harry…"

A/N: Small tidbit, Larry , and Garry are named after my great uncle and late grandfather who were twins irl as well and very close. They also have a sister named Mary irl too, but I added an extra R to her name to match her brothers. Garry and Larry's personalities are also based on a mix of my great uncle and grandfather's personalities and a combination of a slightly more violent version of Stanford and Stanley Pines because gravity falls was in my subconscious when I created these characters lmao.

Marry's personality is loosely based on an old lady I use to know in a nursing home I used to work at who was very sweet.

Tammi is my vision of an ideal mom and hopefully I portray that better throughout this fic.

I'm also curious if you want to leave your opinions in the reviews, do you agree with Harry and Matilda that Magnus overreacted when he yelled at Harry for running away from the Dursleys or do you think Magnus has a point? And do you agree with Tammi that Mati should pick her battles more carefully ?

Next chapter should be up soon since it's all prewritten! Cheers for now!