Somewhere deep in the magical province of Siberia, hundreds of
kilometres from Lena City, the capital of the Siberian Ministry of
Magic, a burly figure was quickly walking along a grassy path. He
was six feet three inches in height, with moderately long brown hair
that slightly curled at the tips. His shoulders were stiff with tension,
grey eyes narrowed in concentration as he gripped his wand tightly;
he seemed to be expecting an attack of some sort.
Twenty-three-year-old Dylan Lestrange suddenly moved out of the
way as he dodged the incoming curses. A predatory smile formed on
his lips, even though he had been under constant attack for the past
two weeks. It had been a test for survival. Siberia was definitely
beautiful during this time of year, but the examiners of the famed
Siberian Academy of Battle-Magic could turn the area into one of the
deadliest in the world.
Jets of multi-coloured light flew at him from all directions. Dylan
dodged them but didn't stray from his position too much. Acrobatics
and using body movements to their advantage was Harry and
Daphne's style, not his. He preferred a more refined approach with
precision strikes, and over the years, he had perfected it due to the
rigorous training offered to him by his Master and the rest of the
academy instructors.
Neatly taking a few steps forward and backwards, Dylan slashed his
wand while using wandless magic with his left hand. Pure ripples of
magic were the testament to the control he had over his powers.
Using the surrounding area to his advantage, he wandlessly broke
the branch of a tree and flung it towards his enemies. When he
sensed a group approaching him from behind, he twirled sideways,
with his hand outstretched.
Bolts of lightning flew from his fingertips and impacted the attacking
party. Dylan didn't waste time. Moving forward, disabling another
enchantment, he continued. This final test had been designed
without any remorse in the heart of the examiner. It was a practical
test, luring some of the more dangerous assassins in the world, all
paid to test a willing cadet who agreed to go through with it. Not all
the cadets of the academy were allowed to even consider taking this
particular test. It was meant for the elite – and no one in the history
of the academy had ever survived it. It was a big risk, both on the
part of the academy instructors and the cadet in question.
The exam was completely voluntary, but Dylan would hardly miss the
chance to immediately rise up the ranks once he graduated. The
other graduates would have to wait a long time for advancement, but
those who passed this test would be given a special opportunity –
and he would not let it go to waste.
Their plan depended on it.
Flying without the help of the broom, Dylan cast an explosion curse
at the ground.
He took a deep breath. What was left of the assault party was
trapped. There was no need for these wizards to die. Greedy scum,
these assassins and bounty hunters may be, but Dylan didn't want to
kill them. They could be rescued by the academy personnel later.
Flying to an appropriate altitude, Dylan twisted in mid-air and
Disapparated.
Several hours later, once he was fully healed and showered, he
found himself standing in a circular room that served as the office of
the academy's headmistress.
"Impressive, cadet," the witch said, nodding in approval. "I have
never witnessed anyone complete that exam, not only in my tenure
but in the history of this academy itself. Your Master should be
proud."
"Thank you, ma'am."
That was high praise coming from her, especially considering how
she refrained from positively commenting on the progress of any of
the cadets, demanding improvement. Madam Aicanã of Magical
Brazil was known for keeping her distance, maintaining the façade of
a very strict disciplinarian.
Dylan doubted that was her true self. He was sure she only kept that
mask on to control the people in the academy. They could not handle
another Grindelwald incident.
Madam Aicanã looked at him shrewdly. "Have you changed your
mind since that conversation you had with your Master six months
ago?"
"No ma'am," Dylan answered. "I wouldn't have signed up for this
exam had I wished to seek my fortunes elsewhere. I have made my
decision, and I was hoping to seek your approval."
A hint of a smile formed on her face. "You certainly do, young man. If
you still want to go through with it, then sign this contract."
He scanned the contents of the sheet of parchment. This contract
was only temporary, to be replaced by a permanent one in the future.
Not that he cared. Daphne had long ago conducted experiments to
prove that magical contracts did not have any effect on the three of
them.
Once he signed it, Madam Aicanã stood up and shook his hand.
"Congratulations on successfully graduating from the academy.
Welcome to the Department of Mysteries, Mr Lestrange."
Dylan bowed respectfully, but his grey eyes were gleaming with
excitement and satisfaction. Quickly walking down the corridors of
the building, he entered his room. His belongings had already been
packed. Shrinking his trunk, he placed it in his pocket and proceeded
towards the main door. The cold Siberian air hit his face as he
moved into the open. For five minutes, he silently walked until he
reached the Apparition point. Dylan looked one last time at the
ancient building. For six years, it had been his home. Taking a deep
breath, he Disapparated.
It was nighttime, and Lena City was bustling with people. The city
reflected the architecture of the native Siberian witches and wizards.
The capital city itself had been named after one of the five major
rivers in the region. The natives considered the rivers to be sacred
and worshipped them as they worshipped Mother Magic herself.
Since ice and water were their main focus, the magical populace of
Lena City had constructed a massive statue dedicated to the White
Phoenix, the sacred bird that symbolized the holy element of water.
Other statues of ancient witches and wizards from their history
dominated the high street that led to the dome-shaped building
which served as the headquarters of the Siberian Ministry of Magic.
Dylan passed through the security checkpoints with the air of having
done it hundreds of times over the past six years. Many of the
Ministry employees even greeted him happily. An amused smile
formed on his lips as he entered the division for international travel.
"Your Portkey leaves in two minutes, Mr Lestrange," said the wizard.
"When can we expect you back?"
"I'm afraid my business here is done, sir," Dylan chuckled
humourlessly.
"Ah, that's a shame," he sighed. "Well, good luck, kid. It'll be weird
not seeing you every week."
Dylan thought so too. He stood at the designated place, holding his
Portkey. At the precise moment, there was a tug behind his navel
and a few uncomfortable seconds later, he was standing in a similar
office. Rays from the afternoon sun streamed inside from the
windows as he heard an automated voice say –
'Welcome to the city of Camelot. The Ministry of Magic of Avalon
wishes you a good day.'
"Lord Lestrange," gushed the witch at the International Portkey
Terminal. "It's good to see you again. Shall I arrange a return Portkey
to Lena City?"
"No," Dylan said softly. "Not Lena City. I'll be travelling to
Mesopotamia in two days. Please make the necessary
arrangements, madam."
"Understood. The Portkey to Bābili will be ready for your departure,
Lord Lestrange. Have a nice day."
Thanking her, he walked towards the domestic Floo terminal. With a
flash of green flames, he was transported to Potter Castle. He was
itching to see his wife once again, who had just returned after
finishing her studies in international magical law.
It was good to be home.
Bābili, capital of the magical province of Mesopotamia
The room was dimly lit and was circular in shape. Six people were
seated on a pedestal, with equal distance between each chair, as if
portraying that they were all equals. It was said to promote debate,
and the room signified a space where different knowledgeable
witches and wizards could exchange ideas. This magnificent room,
designed by Mesopotamian architects, had been in use for centuries
by learned people who earned their Sorcerer degrees. It was here
that the late wizard Albus Dumbledore himself had been bestowed
the title of Grand Sorcerer for his discovery of the twelve uses of
dragon blood.
While the outer circumference of the room held those six seats, the
inner circumference was empty, with a dim light shining from the
ceiling. This was the place where the aspiring Sorcerers would
showcase their talent to the world.
Head Unspeakable Algernon Croaker was seated in one of the six
chairs. He stroked his chin in contemplation. The witch to his left,
Madam Kotomi of Magical Japan, the chairman of the Sorcerer's
Council, cleared her throat and announced, "We are gathered here
today to judge the presentation of two highly renowned Masters in
their fields. Step forward, Mr and Mrs Potter."
Twenty-five-year-old Daphne Potter bowed to the council, followed
her husband. "We are honoured to be here," she said.
Standing six feet in height, her deep blue eyes shining brightly,
Daphne cut an impressive figure. The lavishly decorated flowing
robes that she used to prefer wearing during her teenage years were
gone, to be replaced by skin-tight clothes that aided her in agility.
While her movements appeared naturally graceful due to being an
accomplished dancer, one could observe the lean muscle in her
arms and legs, showing that she was stronger than she appeared.
Her long dark-blonde hair was tied up, held by a bejewelled hair clip.
Dangling diamond earrings sparkled in the dim light and her basiliskhide
boots made tapping noises against the polished floor. She
looked like a warrior ready for battle.
Harry too was similarly dressed, with dark blue form-fitting clothes,
having completely foregone outer robes of any kind that hindered
quick movement. His moderately long raven-black hair, usually
loose, was tied in a low ponytail. A silver locket that hung from
around his neck gleamed under the lighting charms. About four
inches taller than his wife, he literally radiated power. Broad
shoulders and a toned chest and stomach gave him a muscular
physique, just like his younger brother, Dylan. The faint lightning bolt
shaped scar that defined the Boy-Who-Lived was still visible on his
forehead. The most distinguishing feature about the young man was
definitely his eyes that were literally the shade of the Avada Kedavra
curse – the colour of death.
The past six years had changed them. Having witnessed the
betrayal of the rogue Unspeakables, Harry, Daphne and Dylan had
realised that just because Lord Voldemort had been defeated, that
was not an end to the danger. They had, unconsciously, let their
guard down during a time of peace. They realised their mistake and
that was now showing in their mannerisms. The three of them would
never be held back again. The future of the magical world depended
on their survival and victory.
It had taken them seven years to reach this stage, two years more
than what they had planned for. Finally, Harry and Daphne were in
front of the Sorcerer's Council, ready to present their work.
"What do you have for us?" asked Madam Kotomi.
Harry flicked his wand, conjuring six copies of their thesis which he
distributed to the members of the council. Daphne stepped forward.
"Honoured members of the council, what my husband and I are
presenting to you this morning is something that is on par with the
trend in today's world," she explained. "Enchanting and magical
innovation over the past ten years has shaped magical technology
like nothing we have seen in recent times. Our original ideas were to
present our research papers separately, but when we kept hitting
roadblocks in our personal projects, we decided to combine them for
better implementation."
With a flick of his wand, Harry conjured a rectangular black stone.
"You've all seen this," he said. "It's a ward stone, used to power
various powerful enchantments. It comes in different sizes and
configurations. Such technology has been in use for nearly two
thousand years. We have never been able to develop a suitable
substitute for anything that can absorb and harness a huge amount
of magical energy that is required to protect our homes or enchant
our biggest devices. My goal was to replace this aged technology
with something else. Something that can be adapted to other
devices and one that can absorb and use more magical energy than
some of the biggest and most expensive ward stones we currently
have at our disposal."
Croaker leaned forward with interest. His curiosity was piqued.
Daphne took over. She removed a wand from within her expanded
pocket. She flicked it, but instead of a spell, the wand turned into a
rubber chicken. It was one of Fred and George Weasley's fake
wands, very popular among children.
"Self-casting wands," she continued. "No one has ever been able to
produce them, mostly because a wand is just a piece of wood,
combined with powerful materials. It is a magical focus. This wand, a
prank item made for children, does not cast spells. There are
practice wands that are produced for children below the age of
eleven, but those are just cheaper substitutes for wands. Magical
foci that produce spells on their own have never been successfully
invented by anyone. I wanted to break that barrier, and this has been
my main focus of research."
Daphne ignored the excited whispers as she removed a small object
from within her bag. The said object was shaped like a pyramid and
was six inches in height. It was glowing red from the inside. Her
fingers touched the second object, a cube that was glowing blue, but
after a split second hesitation, she decided not to remove it. Harry
conjured a thick slab of stone at the other end of the room.
"This, ladies and gentlemen, is what I call an Asthron ," Daphne
explained. "I have programmed it to my specifications."
"But this isn't a wand," countered one of the wizards among the six.
"No, sir, it is not. But it is most definitely a magical focus. Let me
demonstrate."
Harry discreetly nodded to his wife. Daphne held a piece of glass –
her computer – in hand as she activated the Asthron . The small
pyramid glowed a dark shade of red as it automatically levitated itself
a few feet from the ground. The tip which was facing the ceiling
changed direction until it was pointed towards the stone slab.
Daphne observed the expressions of the six gathered there. All of
them were sceptical about what the Asthron could do. Croaker,
though, while sceptical, also looked curious and intrigued.
"Fire," she said softly. There was a split second beep before a jet of
red light flew from the tip of the Asthron and impacted the stone slab,
destroying it. The shards scraped the shields which Harry had
erected, but the spell had done its job.
Harry smiled faintly at the gobsmacked looks on the faces of their
evaluators. Not wanting to halt the display, he swiftly conjured a
dozen stone slabs in all directions. With another flick of his wand, he
made them move around the room randomly. Daphne was just as
quick to follow, her fingers tapping on the computer screen. With a
wave of her hand, the Asthron activated once more. Moving in all
directions with surprising speed and accuracy, jets of red light kept
hitting the various blocks of stone which Harry had conjured. The
area looked like a war zone after five minutes.
"That was a Reductor Curse," explained Daphne. "That was all I had
programmed for this particular Asthron . Yes, it's not a wand. But it's
a lot better. It doesn't need a wizard to hold it in his hand to operate
it. Many other spells can be programmed into it as well."
The actual intention of the device went unsaid. It was primarily a
weapon of war. Of the six, only Croaker understood that, and his
face was grim. The others were excited.
"How are you able to channel so much magic for the device to
work?" one of them inquired.
Daphne turned towards her husband, who walked towards the centre
of the room. Removing a phial, he revealed a luminescent blue
fluidic substance that was contained within.
"This is my invention," he said. "An alchemical liquid I call Varasma .
It conducts magic in ways that magically enforced granite and
magical crystals used in mirrors can never hope to compete. A few
drops of it are all that is required for the Asthron to work. It occupies
less space and is more flexible than granite and crystals."
Croaker was impressed. The potential these two offered was
enormous. It would fundamentally change the very nature of their
society. Protective enchantments using Varasma as a conduit of
magic would prove to be more beneficial and less difficult to
maintain. Powering smaller devices would also be less of a
hindrance. The Asthron could be used for a variety of devices.
Automation would most definitely be developed in different fields of
magical technology.
The next several hours were spent in discussing and explaining the
nature of the devices and the magical principles involved in their
creation. It was past five in the evening when the council asked them
to leave the room, giving them some time to talk among themselves.
"What do you think?" asked Daphne.
Harry paused. "Well, we've made it clear that we do not intend to sell
our products in the international market. That certainly seemed to
reassure them. The Asthron would surely be dangerous in the wrong
hands –"
"– as would a Varasma infused Asthron ," interrupted Daphne,
levitating a cubic device that was glowing blue in colour. "I don't want
them to know about this. It would most definitely cause panic.
Croaker already looks weary."
"Agreed. What do you think, Dylan?"
The younger man sitting next to them looked at the blue Asthron
introspectively. "I agree as well," he said quietly. "Do you think you
can make Croaker see things from our point of view?"
"We have to," shrugged Daphne. "Our plans depend on it. Complete
secrecy is one thing, but not being prepared for war, even if we try
our best to avoid it, is idiotic. Good job on that test, by the way."
Dylan simply smiled.
Five minutes later, the couple was called back inside the room.
Facing the council, they waited for Madam Kotomi to speak.
"Examining the projects of aspiring Sorcerers is never easy," she
said, looking critically at Harry and Daphne. "No matter how
knowledgeable our council may be, we still have much to learn. A
new source of tapping into magical reserves is something that was
never experimented upon. Self-casting magical foci were never
successful. But you both have beaten the odds. We all debated on
the matter, and we're glad that you're not going to market your
products just yet. I don't have to tell you that we could have serious
problems on our hands should rogue wizards get their hands on it.
However, given your reputation and skill, I have no doubt you will
keep your inventions safe. You both have breathed air in an area of
magic that had never been tapped before. Therefore, on behalf of
this council, it is my greatest pleasure to award you both the title of
Grand Sorcerer . Congratulations to you both, Harry and Daphne
Potter."
The couple bowed to the members of the council who stood up,
applauding for the youngest Grand Sorcerers the world had ever
seen. After shaking hands with everyone, Croaker motioned them to
an adjacent room. The door opened and Dylan quietly entered as
well.
Croaker took a seat and exhaled. "You three are certainly something
special," he admitted after a pause. Looking at Dylan, he spoke,
"You managed to single-handedly defeat a group of the deadliest
assassins in the world. In my opinion, that blasted test should never
have existed, and there was a very high possibility that you could
have died like every other cadet who took that exam over the years,
but you prevailed. How, I do not know."
"You," he said, looking at Daphne, "managed to create a device so
intricately designed that you can change the way we view magical
technology. I'm not sure if you meant it to cast mundane spells or
destructive curses, but you certainly breached a barrier. No one has
ever managed to program a device to cast spells. People have tried
many, many times, but they have failed. But you succeeded."
"And finally, the one who wants to change the way we power all
heavy enchantments," Croaker said, looking at Harry, his gaze soft
with affection. "Alchemy is a very rare branch of magic that is not
seen frequently. Varasma is an alchemical discovery that can open
new possibilities for us all."
He paused. "In essence, you three are revolutionaries. But I'm not
stupid, and I certainly do not expect you to be idiots either. You want
something. And you are also hiding something. What is it?"
Harry remained stoic. Extracting an orb from inside his pocket, he
passed it to the older man. Croaker seemed surprised, but he tapped
the orb with his wand. A ghostly image of Sybill Trelawney rose from
within its depths and spoke in a harsh voice –
" The one with the power to restore balance has been chosen ... the
one who has already fulfilled the terms of a prophecy, the one
marked by the Dark Lord as his equal. He shall emerge at a time
when the shroud of darkness is creeping along the horizon. The
ones cursed by Magic have begun their path to chaos ... the balance
shall be broken, the secret ousted, and a holy war shall end it all.
Long forgotten allies shall emerge, for only two can there be that
shall decide our fate. The one chosen by Magic, touched by Death,
flanked by tigress and wolf, will be forced to restore balance, but
should he fail, Magic shall consume us all. The Saviour of Magic has
been chosen ... chosen to fulfil his destiny ..."
The figure sunk back into the depths of the orb and vanished.
Croaker remained silent as he tried to wonder what the prophecy
could mean. Mentally, he made plans to verify if it was genuine, but
his gut kept telling him that it made sense. For years, he had heard
strange whispers from different sources. Many magical creatures
were behaving strangely. Wizard-goblin relations were at an all-time
high. The Centaurs and Vampires were not as hostile as before. The
Veela Queen had taken an active interest to interact with the I.C.W.,
promoting more bilateral talks between them. Even his father's old
friend, Garrick Ollivander, was hinting at something strange.
"The secret shall be ousted?" he asked finally. "Just to clear the air,
what secret do you three feel she is referring to?"
Harry smiled faintly. "What is the biggest secret of our age? It's the
very existence of magic itself. Sir, you know as well as I do that she's
referring to the International Statute of Secrecy."
Croaker took a deep, shaky breath. "Let's say for the sake of
discussion that I believe this prophecy is genuine. In that case, from
what I know of her previous prophecy, there is no doubt that it is you.
I may not understand all of it, but that much certainly makes sense to
me. Let's be frank. What do you want?"
"We are not interested in war, Director Croaker," Dylan said quietly.
"The war with Voldemort was enough, and we are not eager for
another. However, that doesn't mean we should sit idle and do
nothing. We are trying our very best to prevent war. The biggest
measure we decided upon was complete secrecy . We want to fully
separate from the Muggles – globally."
"The Magical Orphans Act where you rescued those Muggle-born
orphans," observed Croaker, nodding along. "And you also initiated
the construction of Camelot, Godric's Hollow and Hogsmeade."
"Over the past six years, with our combined influence, we have
managed to convince the rest of the Magical European governments
and also MACUSA to implement the same plan for their countries as
well," elaborated Daphne. "Construction is nearly finished. In six
months, there will be no wizarding settlement within Muggle areas
anywhere in the world. Complete separation would then be
possible."
Croaker nodded. He could certainly see the merits of the plan. And
he was not the least bit surprised that Harry and Daphne had
managed to convince the heads of all those magical countries to
relocate and construct non-Muggle cities. The Obscurial incident six
years ago had increased their fame globally, and they had been
invited to various soirees by influential politicians. Their hold in the
international political sphere had slowly grown over time, and they
could certainly be considered as among the most powerful people in
the world – and they had not even actively entered politics yet.
Their new titles of Grand Sorcerer would only serve to increase the
respect they had in the eyes of the common witch and wizard.
"Alright. I see your point. But you have also been working on the
what-if scenario that a war indeed breaks out between wizards and
Muggles, am I right? And I assume that was the reason you took that
deadly test, Dylan?"
"Yes sir," nodded Dylan. "As per the terms of the contract of the
exam, should I be successful, the Department of Mysteries shall help
me create a sub-department, with me as the head. I've already
decided what that is going to be."
"Let's get it over with," exhaled Croaker, rubbing his temples with his
fingers. The stress of the day was getting to him.
"I want the emergency task force under my command," Dylan stated.
"I'm qualified to mentor and lead them, sir. If a war indeed breaks
out, we will be grossly unprepared without sufficient training.
Muggles don't use wands."
Harry bit his lip in contemplation. While he wasn't fully on board with
this idea, he could see its uses. Not everyone was as skilled as him,
Daphne or Dylan. They needed training.
"The task force also needs to be increased in size," said Harry, "by a
factor of ten, if not more. Sir, you are the Head Unspeakable. I
cannot impress upon you the seriousness of what is going on. I have
never lied to you. You might think this prophecy is a fake but I assure
you, it's not. You can run tests later to prove its authenticity. But for
now, please consider our request."
"What about you, Daphne?" asked Croaker critically. "Since you
aren't willing to sell or publish your work, there has to be something
to it."
Daphne nodded. "I want to improve upon the Asthron , sir. I was
hoping to have a research team of my own in your department."
Croaker chuckled humourlessly. "I feel like you three are cornering
me from all directions," he said wryly. "And something tells me that
you have yet to make your demands known, Harry. Let me be frank
with you. I need to run some tests on the Varasma you have
invented. Such technology would surely help me with my research
projects. Name your price."
Harry smiled faintly. "I only want you to continue what you already
do, what you are famous for. Sir, in exchange for my alchemical
discovery, I want you to research more into the magic of time travel.
Only, there is a certain twist I'm hoping you will agree with."
Croaker's face lit up as Harry described it to him. He laughed. "Oh,
this is no problem at all," he said, still chuckling. "With a new source
of magical reserves, I can't wait to begin my experiments. The costs
would surely come down drastically without the heavy use of
traditional ward stones. I'm in. Is that all?"
Harry nodded. The four of them spent another hour discussing and
compromising on their terms until they finally reached consensus.
Croaker handed both Daphne and Dylan badges made of gold, with
an intricate crest on it, stamped with the seal – D.O.M .
"Congratulations, Daphne, Dylan," smiled Croaker. "You both are
now officially Unspeakables. I shall expect to see you at work from
Monday."
With a satisfied smile, Croaker grabbed the phial containing
Varasma and Disapparated. He had a lot of work to do and he was
giddy with excitement.
Harry might think the Head Unspeakable got the short end of the
stick, but for someone like Croaker, whose passion was to discover
the intricacies of time magic, any help was beneficial; especially if he
could power his time devices with the help of Varasma , thus
dwelling deeper into his research project.
Dylan grabbed his brother and sister-in-law in a hug, wrapping his
arms around them tightly. "I'm so proud of you both," he said
excitedly.
Harry and Daphne chuckled. "Thanks, brat," he said teasingly. "If you
think I'm going to congratulate you, then you're delusional!"
Daphne's shoulders slumped. "Please don't start," she groaned. "I'm
exhausted, and I don't have the patience to deal with you eggheads
tonight."
Dylan's jaw dropped in shock and mock outrage. "Daph, how could
you call me an egghead?" he exclaimed. "That's Harry, remember?"
"You are what I say you are."
He huffed. "You and Astoria are most definitely related," he muttered
under his breath. "Both of you say the same thing and I'm left with no
retort."
"That's only because you're scared of me," Daphne teased, pinching
his cheek affectionately.
Dylan puffed out his chest proudly. "I'll have you know, I, Dylan
Lestrange, am scared of nothing. In fact – bloody fucking hell , get
that lizard out of my face!"
Daphne laughed hysterically as she watched Dylan scramble to get
away from the lizard Harry had conjured. Her husband was leaning
against the wall, his arms crossed over his muscular chest, a hint of
a smirk on his usually expressionless face, eyes twinkling in
amusement.
"You were saying something about not being scared of anything?"
asked Harry casually.
"Bloody git," cursed Dylan under his breath. "Be careful, or I'll knock
your teeth out!"
"Bring it on, little brother!"
"All right, wrap it up," Daphne intervened. Turning towards her
brother-in-law, she said, "You have a wife to get home to, and we
have three children waiting for us at the hotel. Let's go."
"I'll so get back at you," whispered Dylan in Harry's ear, carefully
ensuring that Daphne couldn't overhear.
Harry smirked at him, ruffling his brother's hair. "You're on," he shot
back softly.
Chucking in amusement, Dylan shook his head and Disapparated to
the International Floo Terminal in the city. Harry and Daphne too
Disapparated without a sound and appeared at the Apparition point
near their hotel. The air was filled with the noise of the crowded city.
The native architecture and cultural landmarks of the Mesopotamian
witches and wizards could be seen everywhere.
"Daph, do you think you can manage on your own?" asked Harry
quietly. "I promised Master Nicolas that I would see him once the
presentation was complete."
"Sure, go ahead," replied Daphne. Cupping his cheek, she kissed
him softly. "I'll take the kids back home after dinner."
Harry nodded and Disapparated to the International Portkey
Terminal. Walking up the front steps of the hotel, Daphne entered the
building, only to freeze when she saw the opulent lobby in disarray.
"Get out of the way, coming through!"
Daphne's jaw dropped as she dived to the ground. The small
broomstick built for children flew just past her head. She recognised
the familiar messy mop of dark-blonde hair. "Charlie, what are you
doing?" she exclaimed.
"Winning!" grinned six-year-old Charles Potter excitedly.
"Mum, move!"
" Bella! "
Her only daughter, Belladonna, grinned back; her long raven-black
hair had come undone from her ponytail. "I'm so going to beat him!"
she vowed, flying faster.
"Stop, right now!" ordered Daphne, but it was no use. The twins were
literally flying circles in the lobby. The other hotel guests were
horrified.
Déjà vu.
Where is the one who instigated those two into doing this?
"Yeah, come on, Bella!" jumped five-year-old James Potter excitedly.
Younger to his siblings by ten months, he too had inherited the
emerald green eyes of the Slytherin family. His hair was black and
unlike his siblings who had a perfect combination of their parents'
features, James looked like a miniature version of Harry Potter.
"You can beat him! Fly faster!"
"What is going on here?" exclaimed the hotel manager. "Must I be
everywhere?"
Daphne groaned. She was pretty sure her family would be barred
from this hotel as well.
"There he is!" Charlie shouted.
"Go for it, big brother!" cheered Belladonna.
Everyone in the lobby watched in shock as the two bodily slammed
into a burly wizard, knocking him over. His trunk, still not magically
reduced in size, flew across the room due to the force of the
collision.
"Madam Potter, please control your children!" the manager
exclaimed. Nodding and conveying a silent apology, Daphne waved
her hand briskly. Charlie and Belladonna's brooms slowed down, and
amidst their protests, she carefully landed them on the ground.
"Mum!" Charlie cried indignantly. "What did you do that for?"
Daphne glared at her oldest son. "You were flying in the lobby! Your
actions injured a guest. In Salazar's name, what possessed you to
do something like this?"
Belladonna was the quickest to answer. "Mum, when you were gone,
Jamie wasn't feeling well," she said, wrapping her arms around her
little brother. "We just wanted to make him feel better, honest!
Her bright green eyes were twinkling with mock innocence. It could
have fooled the entire world, but not her mother.
"Really?" asked Daphne sceptically. "Is that true, Jamie? Are you
unwell?"
James nodded solemnly. Daphne paused when she touched his
face. Her youngest son was running a fever.
"Alright, let's get you to a healer," she said softly. "And then – not so
fast you two! "
The twins were attempting to escape the scene. She was just about
to yell at them but the hotel manager finally caught up with her. It
took several minutes for Daphne to soothe his ruffled feathers. After
repairing the damage – and paying for the enchanted objects that
her children had destroyed – a fuming Daphne led her children up to
their suite. Once inside, she rounded on them.
"Well?" Daphne demanded, her hands on her hips. "I am so angry
right now that I am this close to grounding you three for all eternity.
James, explain yourself!"
"Mummy, I'm not feeling well," he whined. "I didn't do anything! And
you always say that I shouldn't overexert myself when I'm sick. Well,
stopping Charlie and Bella could have made my fever worse."
"That's a good answer," grumbled Daphne under her breath.
Promptly turning towards her oldest, she demanded, "Charlie, what
were you thinking?"
"Well, it's just –" began Charlie, fidgeting under her gaze, but he was
interrupted.
"No, don't answer that. I know what you're going to say and I've
heard the same excuse enough times already. Bella, what was going
through your mind?"
"I just wanted to help my brother," she said softly, looking down at
her shoes, trying to play the innocent card. Daphne exhaled in
frustration. Belladonna was James Potter and Sirius Black's
granddaughter through and through. A born Marauder.
"Come on, Mum, it wasn't anything bad," defended Charlie.
"Besides, we were bored and mumph !"
Belladonna slapped her hand against her brother's mouth to prevent
him from blowing their cover story but it was too late. Her eyes were
wide with panic as she slowly looked towards her mother. Daphne
looked like a hungry tigress that had caught her prey.
" Bored? You flew your brooms in the lobby of one of the most
opulent hotels in the world, destroyed several of their expensive
items and injured a guest, all because you were bored? This is not
the first time you three have done something like this! I thought
Australia was bad enough, but this incident is way over the top! Do
you even know how much I had to pay to repair the damage? Just
because we have money doesn't mean we can waste it like this!
Once, just once , would it kill you to behave?"
Daphne rolled her eyes when her children began making gagging
noises, as though they were about to die. Here she was, scolding
them, and they were taking it with a grain of salt? She was utterly
confused! They never acted this carefree when she was angry. Her
children usually listened to her, mostly because she was the parent
who enforced discipline.
Harry was the 'fun' parent – making her look bad in the process –
because he found it impossible to raise his voice to his children.
Ever.
But what could she do? With her husband that useless in disciplining
them, she had to be strict with them. Spoilt, they may be, but she
knew not to take it too far. Daphne didn't want her kids to turn out
like how Draco Malfoy had been at that age. Thankfully, while they
were mischievous, they certainly weren't arrogant. Since they were
magical, their physical and mental development was much faster as
compared to their Muggle counterparts. They had already begun
developing their own interests.
Charlie was the athletic one and the strongest physically as well. He
enjoyed watching his Dad and Uncle Dylan spar frequently and had
already begged his parents to enrol him in a school for martial arts
once they were permanently back to living in Potter Castle. Charlie
was also most definitely his mother's son. He had certainly inherited
Daphne's temper.
Belladonna, on the other hand, was by far the best flyer. She had
inherited her father's skill on a broom and was constantly flying
whenever she got the chance. She was also the most cunning of the
three.
James, Harry and Daphne's youngest child, was the most unique.
He was not as strong as his older siblings, but he was definitely the
smartest. Always having a book in hand, James was mostly silent,
except when his siblings got him involved in some mischievous
scheme or the other.
"That reminds me, where's your babysitter?"
The twins looked at each other, looking strangely smug. Even James
was smirking. Charlie hesitantly pointed towards his bedroom.
Daphne frowned and quickly moved to investigate. When she
opened the door, her eyes widened. She had to bite her tongue from
trying not to burst out laughing.
Their babysitter was given a monkey's tail and donkey ears. The
poor woman was covered in paint, all in different colours. Worst of
all, she was strapped to a chair, with several ropes binding her. Her
wand was on the floor at the far end of the room. When Daphne
opened the door, a banana pie flew from the desk and landed with a
wet splat on the babysitter's face.
With a quick wave of her wand, Daphne repaired the room and
vanished the mess the 'prank' had caused. Finally, with great
reluctance, she cancelled the silencing charm.
"Fred, George, I'm going to burn down each of your shops one day,"
muttered Daphne under her breath.
"THAT'S IT!" yelled the babysitter. "I've had it with those three
hooligans! Never am I coming back here and I'll tell all my coworkers
to avoid this family at all costs! Look what they did to me!"
Daphne was about to apologise when she felt someone tug her
robes. Looking down she spotted James eyeing her. Crouching to
his level, she asked, "What is it, Jamie?"
"I caught her in your bedroom trying to steal your jewellery,"
whispered James, as if it were a big conspiracy. "She was trying to
disable the alert charms, but I caught her. Charlie and Bella decided
to teach her a lesson before you and Daddy could come back."
"Oh."
"Do you like it, Mum?" smirked Belladonna.
"It's our best work yet!" Charlie exclaimed, bouncing with excitement.
"Grandpa Sirius will be pleased!"
A hint of a smile formed on her lips as she saw the beaming and
proud smiles on her children's faces. Wanting to check if their theory
was right, she cast a powerful Compulsion Charm on the babysitter,
forcing her to tell the truth.
"Did you attempt to steal my jewellery?" she asked.
The woman struggled, but she had no experience with Occlumency
to repel the charm. The words were wrenched from her mouth. "Yes.
And I would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for those
meddling kids!"
Daphne pursed her lips in anger, extending her hand towards the
wall. A small glass screen appeared and she pressed it with her
palm. A communication channel activated, redirecting her to the
lobby.
"Hotel security, please report to my suite immediately."
"Yeah!" cheered Charlie, fist-pumping his brother and sister as the
three of them danced around excitedly. James quickly felt dizzy
because of the fever and had to sit down. Just a couple of seconds
later, Daphne felt the enchantments in the suite beginning to wane
as two security wizards Apparated directly into the living room along
with the manager.
As the wizards took the babysitter downstairs to 'escort' her out of
the hotel, the manager looked at Daphne shrewdly.
"Mrs Potter, I owe your kids my thanks," he said reluctantly. "The
guest they knocked down turned out to be a thief. Nothing big, a
small-time crook – and a bit of an idiot, actually – but he had just
ransacked one of our other guests after disabling the wards. He was
going to make a run for it, but from what we can make out, your
children eavesdropped on his conversation and found out about it.
The – incident – in the lobby was probably to try to capture him and
reveal the contents of his trunk. Whatever those kids planned, it
certainly worked. We managed to recover all the stolen items. I'll
transfer the amount which you paid tonight back to your bank
account. Good night."
Daphne blinked in surprise. Once they were alone, she turned
towards her kids, all three of them who were grinning proudly. An
amused smile formed on her lips.
"I didn't know you three wanted to become Aurors," she teased. "Two
thieves in one night? How did you even listen in on their
conversation?"
"He and our babysitter were going to steal from us too," explained
Belladonna.
"And we used this," said Charlie, holding an Extendable Ear, "to help
us listen. We tied her up and planned to nab the other guy in the
lobby ... which was when you walked in."
"Are we still grounded, Mummy?" asked James cheekily.
"Grounded?" Daphne chuckled. "You mean like back at the castle,
with palatial accommodations, E-Mirrors in each of your rooms, a
swimming pool, broomsticks, and house-elves? That's not
punishment, that's royal treatment."
"Daddy already calls me princess," laughed Belladonna.
Daphne snorted in amusement. Kneeling down in front of them, she
waited expectantly. The three of them squealed as they jumped into
the arms of their mother. She closed her eyes in contentment,
breathing deeply.
"I'm so proud of you kids," Daphne whispered, inhaling their scents
that had become so familiar. "But promise me that you'll never put
yourself in such danger again!"
"Yes, Mummy," they chorused. It wasn't a promise, but that was all
she would get at the moment.
Daphne kissed their foreheads affectionately. They may be among
the most troublesome kids on the planet, but she and Harry wouldn't
give them up for anything in the world.