Sneak Peak of first chapter....

[aisforamy]

I know that not may people will find this before I start posting it on Fiction Alley or FF.net, but for those of you you manage to stumble across it, I'm going to post the first chapter of Foreshadowing the Unexpected - the sequel to Forshadowing the Past, which will follow Connor through his third year. It's going to look a bit rough here, I suspect, since I'm not very familiar with LJ yet, and I don't know what I can and can't do, or how much I can post on one entry, so please bear with me if there are html codings and stuff when I post. Hope you like it - I'll probably start posting chapter in a couple of weeks on FA and FF.net. Let me know what you think if you find this before then!

Chapter one – Re-acquaintances
There is no limit to how complicated things can get, on account of one thing always leading to another. --E. B. White


Connor Potter stepped out of the steamy workroom at Dog Star broom factory, and wiped the sweat from his brow with the hem of his tee shirt. Today was the last day he would be forced to set foot in that room for a long time, and he was glad of it. He had thought that working for his father for the summer wouldn’t be so bad, but he had quickly found that it was actually hard work. He had spent the past week in the ‘handle shaping room’, learning how to get the curve on the handle of the newest model of Daytripper brooms just right. Unfortunately for him, shaping the wood of a broomstick handle required the wood to be infused with magical steam, to make it pliable. Connor had been feeling damp and out of sorts all week. He scratched absently at his hands, thinking that it was a good thing his time in the room was over, as he thought he had a mild allergy to the steam. His hands were itching like crazy lately.

“Ready to go, Con?”

Connor turned to see his father poking his head out of his office, and nodded, heading back and looking in. He was ready, all right! Tomorrow his friends would be arriving for their promised visit for the last week of August; just before the school term began. Connor and his friends would be entering their third year at Hogwarts, except for his cousin Rachel, who would be starting her second. He hadn’t seen anyone but Rachel all summer, and was anxious to get caught up with Ivy, Zack and Quentin. Owls were all fine and good, but it just wasn’t the same as seeing them face-to-face.

He waved to his Uncle Ron, who was sitting with his feet up on his father’s desk. There were scrolls of parchment everywhere, and several different types of brooms up on racks all up and down the back wall if the office. Rachel wandered into the room a moment later, sucking on one of her fingers.

“Bad splinter,” she explained at Connor’s look.

Rachel had also been put to work this summer as a type of punishment for the trouble they had gotten into at school last term. As far as punishments went, it could have been much worse, and they were even given a pay slip at the end of each week, telling them that some money had been deposited into their Gringotts accounts. True, they wouldn’t really have access to that money until they were of legal Wizarding age, but it was nice to know it was there, and that they had really earned it.

“You ready for tomorrow? We’re going to pick up Zack at eleven, and then the others are Flooing over at noon.” Connor asked her, wishing he had washed his hands as soon as he’s left the steaming room; they really itched!

“Yeah,” she said with a grin. “I’m almost packed.”

“I still don’t get why you’re sleeping at Ginny’s when you could just Floo over there every day,” her father said.

“Because I want to be with my friends!” Rachel said. “I’ve been cooped up with Gwen and Prue all summer!”

Ron merely shrugged at his daughter. He supposed it made as much sense as anything girls did. Even living so many years in a house full of them hadn’t enlightened him much on how they worked, and trusted Hermione to work things out when there were problems.

“Well you to have worked off your punishment,” Harry told them with a smile. He had been impressed that the kids had hardly complained about the hard work all summer. They hadn’t wanted to risk getting into any more trouble and possibly not getting to spend the last week of summer with their school friends. “And you did good work, so Ron and I decided that you deserve a little extra bonus.” He handed them each a pay slip, and they grinned at the extra money that they had earned.

“And we’ll give you a little extra pocket money when we go to get your school things,” Ron said, standing up. “Now let’s get out of here!”

They used the Floo near the entrance of the Factory, and Connor left with a feeling of relief. Tomorrow he would be waking up to get ready to pick up Zack, his Muggle-born friend, instead of going to work with his father. No more sorting through tons of twigs to find the ones good enough to be part of a Dog Star broom, no more magical steam, and not more handle wax! Even his sister Lucy had noticed the change in Connor’s physique after a few weeks of manual labour. His arms were much more muscular than they had been in June, and he had been pleased by the observation. More muscled arms meant that he’d probably have a stronger throw for his position as Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team when he got back to school. It seemed like ages since he’d been up on his broom, and he was eager for his friends to arrive so that they could all spend some time in the air.

As soon as he stepped out of the Floo at home, his mother called for him to go wash up for dinner, and he headed upstairs. Once in his room, he saw that his bed had been converted into a bunk bed, and that another bed had been squeezed in as well, to accommodate his expected friends. He knew that the guest room would have been made up for Rachel and Ivy to share, as well. He looked to the picture of them on his dresser and smiles happily as he stripped off the loose robes he wore hanging open over his tee shirt and jeans. He noted that his jeans were becoming way too short to be worn again, and knew he would be dragged out shopping for more by his mother soon. He hated shopping for new clothes.

He took a quick shower, and only roughly dried his hair. It didn’t matter if he combed it, since he’d had his mother cut it very short when he’d begun working in the steam room at the factory. His mother often lamented the fact that he had inherited his father’s hair along with everything else, but Connor didn’t mind much, he just wanted it out of his face. Everyone was always saying how handsome his father was despite his messy hair, weren’t they? With any luck, Connor thought he had a good chance of continuing to look like an almost exact replica of his father at thirteen.

At the dinner table, Lucy and Ian were arguing, as usual, over some trivial play at the Quidditch game they had attended earlier in the week. Adam had his Puffskein, Snowball, on the table and was listening intently to its crooning. Connor eyed the unusually coloured Puffskein with something close to revulsion; whatever had happened to make this one white, instead of the usual custard colour, had also caused it to grow to three times the size a normal Puffskein should. It was kind of creepy. Not only that, but the thing growled at Connor whenever he got too near to it; Puffskeins were not supposed to growl.


Seeing Connor approaching the table, his mum said, “Okay, Adam, go put Snowball in his cage. It’s time for dinner.”

Dobby, the Potter family’s house elf, was busily setting the table, while his mum finished mashing the potatoes. Adam sighed in displeasure at having to put his pet away, but did as she asked, and scooped up the Bludger-sized ball of fur and carried him upstairs.

“I’m surprised the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures hasn’t come ‘round to confiscate that thing,” Connor said once Adam was out of earshot. “It’s just not normal.”

“I’ve never been able to get George to tell me where or how he got it either,” his mum said by way of answer. “But Adam loves it.”

Connor gave a fake little shudder, and changed the subject. “Are you sure that the Ellis’ house will be put on the Floo by the time we need to go and get him?” he asked for the hundredth time that week.

“Yes, Connor,” Ginny answered patiently. “They’re probably already connected by now. Stop worrying about it. If it’s not connected, your father or I can Apparate over and let them know about the delay.”

“Can I go try to call him to see if it works?” he asked eagerly.

“No,” came the predictable reply. “What if they’ve got company? Besides, they’re not used to it, and you might scare them half to death! Just wait until tomorrow, and you’ll see him in person.”

At that point, Harry came to the table with damp hair and fresh robes on as well. Talk turned to normal everyday affairs, and Connor tuned out and thought about all of the things he and his friends could do for the next week. Connor spent an hour after dinner that night with the tutor his parents had hired for the summer to work with him on Occlumency. Most kids Connor’s age would never have a need for such a tutor, or such a skill, but then most kids weren’t clairvoyant, either.

During Connor’s previous term at Hogwarts, he and some friends had become involved in solving a twenty-year-old mystery, whose main clues had come to Connor in the form of unusual precognitive dreams. Once that mystery had been solved, Connor began to notice a marked increase in the frequency of clairvoyant images he experienced each day, until it got to the point of being a nuisance. Connor had been having intermittent ‘visions’ since he was a small child, but nothing like what had happened to him last year. The Occlumency, he was told, would help him to block out a lot of the distracting extra images and thoughts from his mind, so that he could concentrate on everyday matters. His father could have taught him the technique, of course, but Harry and Connor felt that a third party would be the best avenue.

“Very good, Connor,” Clive Sharpe told Connor as they concluded their session. “Any headaches this time?”

“No,” Connor said. “None.”

Clive had been working with Connor three times a week since he had returned home from Hogwarts, and they had made great progress together. They got along well, due partly to the fact that Clive wasn’t as old as Connor had expected him to be. Far from being around the age of his father, or even older, Clive was in his mid-twenties, and had auburn hair, bright blue eyes, with a boyish face that made him look much younger. Connor had been very surprised to find out that not only had Dumbledore himself recommended Mr. Sharpe for the position as Connor’s tutor, but Clive was actually Dumbledore’s great-great-great grandson.

“You’ve made a lot of progress, Connor,” Clive said. “I think you’ll do fine once you get back to school. You haven’t had any precognitive dreams at all since last April, and you’ve been successfully keeping distracting images from your mind on your own for the last three weeks. It may become harder once you’re surrounded by everyone at Hogwarts, but you should be able to handle it. I’ve spoken to Professor Lupin, and he’s agreed to take over your lessons once a week when classes start, just to keep you oriented and on track.”

“Okay,” Connor said.

“And of course, you can owl me anytime,” Clive smiled.

“You’ll still come on Monday, right?” Connor asked. He had become attached to Clive over the summer, and would be sorry to say good-bye.

“And on Wednesday,” he confirmed. “You still going to go get Zack tomorrow?”

They talked for a little while longer, before Clive Flooed home, and Connor went to bed, eager for the coming day.

***************

“Connor!”

Connor woke to the sound of his mother’s voice calling from the bottom of the stairs. With a groan, he pulled his pillow over his head and tried to block out his mother and the sunlight streaming into his room. He had stayed up late, reading a book that Clive had lent him, and had looked forward to having a lie-in, since he didn’t have to go into work with his father for once. I sounded as though his mother had other plans.

“Connor!”

This time the voice was much closer, and it wasn’t his mother’s. Connor sat up in bed and stared blearily at the doorway to his room, where Rachel was standing, grinning broadly, with Quentin right behind her. Quentin looked like he had grown a couple of inches over the summer, and didn’t even have to stand on tiptoe to see over Rachel’s head.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked with a grin. He stretched, and went to stand up, only to smack the top of his head on the bunk that he had forgotten was above him. He managed to hold back the curse that had risen to his lips, and rubbed his sore head, smiling to see Quentin for the first time in several weeks.

“I couldn’t take it anymore, and left a bit early,” Quentin grinned. “Vanessa sends her love.”

“Yeah, right!” Connor laughed. Quentin’s sister and Connor shared an intense dislike for each other due to the fact that he had gotten her into trouble the previous year. Things had taken a downward turn from there..

“What are you still doing in bed?” Rachel asked, coming in to sit on the extra bed against the wall. Quentin dropped a rucksack on the floor, and sat beside Rachel.

“Well I was hoping to have a lie-in,” Connor said. “But now that you’re here, I guess I’ll get up.”

“Connor,” Rachel said with exasperation. “It’s ten-thirty. You’re supposed to be leaving to get Zack in a half and hour.”

Connor jumped to his feet again, and just missed hitting his head again. “What!” He picked up the clock that he must have knocked over at some point and stared in disbelief. “I’ve got to get dressed!”

He began rummaging in his closet for something to wear, and remembered that Zack’s parents were both wealthy and very…proper people. He chose a pair of casual pants and a collared shirt, and scurried off to the bathroom to wash his face and change. By the time he emerged, Dobby had brought up Quentin’s trunk and slid it under the extra bed, and Rachel was sprawled on Connor’s bed, talking animatedly.

“So can we all go to get Zack?” Rachel asked as Connor sat to put on shoes and socks. “Quentin and I want to see his house.”

“I don’t see why not,” Connor said. “If seeing two people come out of their fireplace in a burst of green flames doesn’t freak them out, I don’t suppose seeing four will hurt them any.”

“Mum says that it might come as a shock to Mr. and Mrs. Ellis,” Rachel said.

“Yeah, my Mum said the same thing when I asked if I could Floo them last night to see if it was hooked up to their house yet,” Connor said. “I guess seeing a person’s head in the fire when you’ve never seen it before could be a bit strange.”

“Connor!” Ginny’s voice carried up the stairs again. “Are you up yet? You’re due to pick up Zack in five minutes! You don’t want to be late!”

“I’m coming!” he called down. Then he turned back to his friends and motioned for them to follow him down the stairs.

In the living room, Connor saw that his father was wearing Muggle clothes, similar to his own, and waiting for him. Adam was sitting in a deep chair with Snowball in his lap, and his other two, normal sized and coloured Puffskeins on the arm of the chair.

“What in the name of Godric Gryffindor is that thing?” Quentin asked when he spotted Snowball.

“It’s a freak of nature,” Connor said as the puffy white ball emitted a low growl.

“Are you all coming?” Harry asked, smoothly intervening before his children could start an argument.
“Is it okay?” Connor asked.

“Sure,” Harry said. “It’s just about time. Connor will go through first, and once all of you are through, I’ll Apparate and meet you there.” He gave them the Floo address and then offered a small china bowl full of powder.

Connor stepped into the cold grate, and threw down a pinch of the Floo powder. “Ellis residence, Hampstead!” he called out, and was immediately spun out of sight.

Connor pulled his elbows in tight and closed his eyes. He knew that the less he moved while in transit, the less mess the soot would make when he came to a stop. When he felt himself slow to a stop, he opened his eyes to see a blackened brick wall in front of him. Momentarily puzzled, he realized that the Ellis household, being largely non-magical, must have a much smaller fireplace than Wizarding houses. He crouched down obligingly, and saw Zack smiling back at him and offering is hand to help him out of the grate.

“Hey Connor! Sorry I forgot to warn you about the fireplace,” Zack said cheerfully.

Connor grabbed Zack’s hand with a grin, and stepped out of the way, just as there was another whoosh of flames. Quentin stood there for a moment, with only his legs visible, before he realized the problem, and bent to escape the small fireplace.

“Quint!” Zack said in surprise.

A moment later, Rachel appeared, and didn’t seem to have any such confusion at finding herself in the enclosed area of the chimney. She bent immediately as if she had used this Floo a hundred times before, and stepped gracefully out.

All of the kids looked around to see Zack’s parents looking slightly stunned, and smiling somewhat stiffly a few feet away.

“Hello, Mrs. Ellis,” Quentin said politely. “Mr. Ellis. I would shake your hands, but as you can see, Floo travel isn’t exactly the tidiest mode of transportation.”

Connor rolled his eyes at the formal greeting. Zack had told him last year that he thought Quentin had received a formal upbringing much like Zack himself had done, and from this smooth little speech, he suspected that it was true.

“It’s nice to see you all again,” Mrs. Ellis said, starting to come back to herself after the shock of seeing three children emerge from an eruption of green flame from her fireplace. “Zack has been looking forward to being reunited with his friends again.”

“Have you got your trunk all packed?” Mr. Ellis asked Zack. “Where’s Godric?”

“I sent him to Connor’s house a few minutes ago. I don’t think he’d like the Floo,” Zack grinned. He was enjoying his parent’s reaction to seeing the Floo in action. It had actually been hooked up to the house once before, when he had come home for Christmas in his first year, but they had not been in the room at the time. He picked up Godric’s empty cage, and then started violently when there was a sharp crack behind him, and his mother screamed.

“I’m so sorry!” Connor’s dad had apparated directly into the room, and scared Mrs. Ellis out of her wits. “It was thoughtless of me not to warn you that I wasn’t coming by Floo.”

Mrs. Ellis had a hand over her heart, but was waving away his apology at the same time. “No harm done,” she said a bit breathlessly. “William, make sure that Zack has the money he needs for his school things.”

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Ellis,” Quentin said politely, looking around with interest, while Zack double-checked that he had everything he would need for the coming school term.

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Ellis smiled, pleased with Quentin’s manners.

Connor rolled his eyes again, but upon closer inspection, had to admit that Quentin was right. What he could see of the house was much more reserved than he was used to, but it was also warm and welcoming. There was a distinct lack of the clutter that his family seemed to generate, and everything smelled more of lemon polish than of ginger cookies, but it wasn’t uncomfortable feeling at all. Somehow Connor had expected the Ellis home to be more…cool and uninviting, but it wasn’t like that at all.

“Oh Zack!” Rachel said. “What happened to your hair?”

“Oh,” Zack grimaced as he ruffled it with his fingers. “Mum didn’t like it long, and had it cut. Looks like I’m not the only one, though.”

Connor grinned as Zack pointed to him. In a quiet voice, while his parents were distracted by Connor’s dad, he said, “I’m going to see about getting some more of that stuff you used on me last year, to grow it out again.”

Rachel grinned, and Quentin just shook his head. Quentin quite liked his own short hair, and couldn’t see why Zack would want to be bothered with having to tie it back all the time.

Once everything had been collected, and goodbyes were said, Harry magically expanded the fireplace to make it more accommodating, and the children Flooed back to Potter Headquarters one at a time. Finally just Connor, Zack and the adults were left, and Harry stepped forward to shake the Ellis’s hands once more.

“Thanks for lending us your son for the rest of the summer. We’ll take good care of him. The Floo will stay connected to your home until September first, so that Zack can come home or contact you at anytime before school starts. We’ll make sure he has everything he needs for school.”

Zack’s parents smiled politely, but were staring disconcertedly at their newly enlarged fireplace all the while. Harry told Zack to leave his trunk, and that he would bring it with him, so that they needn’t be crowded in the Floo. Zack hugged his parents once more, and Connor grinned when he noticed that Mrs. Ellis and Mr. Ellis each slipped Zack some extra money when the other wasn’t looking. A few minutes later, the four Gryffindors were back in Connor’s living room, waiting for Ivy to arrive. Harry stayed behind to return Zack’s fireplace to normal, and then apparated home with a crack.

“Harry!” Ginny called from the kitchen the moment her husband returned. “There’s an owl here for you from Hogwarts, marked urgent. It won’t give me the letter, you’ll have to do it.”

Connor and his friends looked at each other curiously, and moved as a unit to the doorway to the kitchen to see what could be so urgent at Hogwarts. Harry strode into the kitchen and relieved the stubborn owl of its letter, and tried to send it away with an owl treat, but it remained. Clearly the sender required an answer, and the owl was told to wait for one.

Harry broke the official Hogwarts seal, and slipped the thick, creamy parchment from the envelope. He stood reading silently to himself, while his audience waited, and then jumped when Harry suddenly half-shouted, “I don’t believe it!”

Exactly what he didn’t believe, the children didn’t find out just then, because the Floo behind them had just roared to life, and Ivy was stepping out, with hardly any soot at all on her robes. Connor grinned at her and made a mental note to ask her how she managed to Floo so neatly. A loud pop beside the fireplace announced the arrival of Ivy’s father, along with her trunk.

“Ivy!” Zack said, distracted from the mysterious letter.

“Hi guys!” she grinned back. “Everyone here, then?”

Ivy was a bit taller and thinner since the last time they had seen her, and her round face was a little leaner as she had grown out of some of the puppy fat. Her skin was nicely browned from a summer spent outdoors, and her hair had pale highlights throughout, making her look very sun kissed and pretty.

“You look great!” Rachel enthused, coming forward to hug her in greeting. “How did you get so tan?”

“Just the usual,” Ivy shrugged, though she was pleased with the astonished looks the boys were giving her. She truly had changed over the past few weeks, and was happy to look less baby-faced than before. “I got to spend a lot of time on my broom, though, and I worked out in the gardens most days.”

“A great help to us, is our Ivy,” her father said proudly, setting her trunk down on the floor. “Are your parents here, Connor?”

“Sure, Mr. Longbottom,” Connor said. “They’re in the kitchen.” Connor thought it odd that his parent were so distracted by the letter his dad had received, that they had completely missed (or ignored) someone arriving by Floo and apparition. He turned to lead Ivy’s dad in to see his parents, and heard his father talking.

“What if they’re treating him like they treated me? Dudley is just like his narrow minded, over-blown, nasty, intolerant father!” Harry was saying, pacing agitatedly around the room, and clenching the letter in his hand. “He even still lives in that same house! They could have him locked up under the stairs, or…”

“Harry,” Ginny said gently, placing a calming hand on his arm.

“Mum, Dad,” Connor interrupted in the silence that followed his father’s invective. “The Longbottoms are here.

“Everything all right, Harry?” Ivy’s father came into the room looking concerned.

“Hello, Neville,” Harry said, shaking hands with the other man in spite of his vexation. “I’m sorry, I’ve just gotten some disturbing news. I have to leave almost immediately.”

“To Hogwarts?” Connor asked. The letter had been from Hogwarts.

“No,” Harry answered, suddenly sounding weary. “I have to go and speak with my cousin.”

Connor was stunned into speechlessness. He knew, of course, and that his father had a cousin, and even an aunt and an uncle somewhere, but they never spoke of them. Ever. It was understood that they didn’t want contact with the Potters and the Potters didn’t want contact with the Dursleys. Not so much as a Christmas card had been exchanged between them as far as Connor knew, since his father had come of age.

“Did you want me to come along?” Neville asked, the steel in his voice belying his pleasant expression. He knew, from long talks in the past, how his Muggle relatives had treated Harry. “For, er, moral support?”

“Thanks Neville, but no,” Harry declined, tossing the crumpled letter onto the table. “I think I can handle the likes of Dudley Dursley on my own.” He grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill from a nearby drawer, and scribbled a note onto it, then sent the waiting owl back to Hogwarts with his answer.

Neville nodded, and said, “No doubt.” He couldn’t help the little bit a wicked smile that appeared on his face for a moment at imagining how Harry might ‘handle’ his cousin if the situation called for it.

“I need to go,” Harry said, stepping forward to kiss his wife firmly on the mouth. “I’ll try to be home by tonight.”

Ginny nodded, and a moment later, Harry was gone from the kitchen.

“Will he be all right?” Neville asked Ginny, who had heaved a sigh and sat down in a kitchen chair heavily.

“I hope so,” she said.

“What does the letter say, Mum?” Connor asked.

“It seems that your father’s cousin has a son that will be attending Hogwarts this year,” Ginny said, massaging the bridge of her nose with one hand, where a headache was beginning to form. “He’s gone to act as a Muggle/Wizard liaison and to explain things to them.”

“If Dad grew up with his cousin, wouldn’t he already know about wizards and magic?” Connor asked. All of his friends were looking at them curiously.

“Not really,” Ginny said. “The Dursleys have always been afraid of magic, and have done their best to avoid it and anyone associated with it at all costs.”

“I had one of those liaison people come to my house when I first go my letter,” Zack said. “She explained everything to us and showed us how to get to Diagon Alley and Gringotts and all of that stuff.”

“Yes, well, the Dursleys would certainly never have allowed anything like that,” Ginny, said dryly. “Then or now.”

“And now they have a magical son,” Neville concluded. “How’s that for Karma?”

Ginny chuckled and snapped out of her contemplative state; she had a house full of guests that needed to be seen to.

“Well there’s nothing we can do about this now,” she said decisively. “Harry will do what he thinks is best, and we’ll deal with anything else that comes from it when we get there. Who wants lunch?”

Neville declined the offer of a meal, and hugged his daughter goodbye. With one last admonishment to Ginny to call him if she needed any help, he apparated away, and left the children to their meal. Lucy and Ian appeared from upstairs, and eagerly greeted Connor’s friends. Ginny served up the soup and sandwiches that Dobby had prepared, and then retired to her ‘quiet room’ for some peace.

As soon as her aunt had left the room, Rachel snatched up the letter that had been left behind and began to read aloud.

“Dear Mr. Potter,

I am writing to you in my capacity as Headmistress of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry to ask a favour of you. Today I received an owl with an acceptance letter from a first year student that may interest you, and may require your attention. Mr. Rupert Dursley will be attending Hogwarts this year, and it has been requested, by way of personal missive from the boy’s father, Mr. Dudley Dursley, that you pay him a visit at his place of residence. The letter that accompanied Rupert’s acceptance letter asks that you, and I quote, “come here and put my boy right.” Mr. Dursley remains in his boyhood residence at number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

I can only assume from his colourful and expressive letter, that Mr. Dursley is less than pleased with his son’s decision to attend Hogwarts. However, Mr. Dursley’s objections notwithstanding, his plea for your personal attention to this matter was accompanied by an acceptance to our invitation for his son to attend. Rupert will be enrolled as a student for the coming term, and will need to be prepared.

I understand the difficult position this may put you in, and I apologize. I know that you severed ties with your relatives many years ago, but I felt that under the circumstances, you would be the best person to help to see them through this. I have not forgotten my own personal encounters with your Aunt and Uncle from your youth,, and feel that any other member of the magical community (aside from yourself) that may try to contact them might be met with undue aggression.

Please contact me with your answer as soon as possible, as there is only a week to go until term begins.

Respectfully,
Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry”

“Did dad really go to see the Dursleys?” Ian asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

Connor nodded.

“Wow,” Zack said when Rachel dropped the letter back onto the table. “It sounds like Professor McGonagall really hates this Dursley guy. Do you really think that he’ll cause your Dad problems?”

“What does he mean, ‘put my boy right’?” Quentin asked indignantly.

“I don’t know,” Connor said. “But I’m sure my Dad can sort it out. If they’re mistreating- what was his name again? Oh yeah, Rupert. If they’re mistreating Rupert, my dad will take care of it; he won’t let anyone keep a magical kid from attending Hogwarts if he wants to. His Aunt and Uncle tried to keep him from going when he got the letter, and that obviously didn’t work.”

Rachel nodded and said thoughtfully, “I suppose this Rupert must be miserable living with people who hate magic. It’ll be good for him to get away from there and to a school with more people like him.”

“What do you think he’s like?” Ian asked. “I mean, he’ll be like our cousin, won’t he?”

“Dad’s first cousin once removed. That would make him…I’m not sure what that makes him to us. Second cousins, maybe,” Lucy answered with a shrug. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

“So,” Ivy said, changing the subject to something more cheerful. “What shall we do with the rest of our day?”

“Fly!” Zack said emphatically. “I haven’t been on a broomstick all summer! My parents pretty much kept an eye on me all summer, and London’s not exactly the ideal spot for flying about. Plus my Mum almost fainted when she saw the pictures of us up in the air.”

“I guess that would be quite a shock for her if she’d never seen it before,” Rachel agreed with a grin. “I’d love to actually ride a broom instead of helping to make them.”

“I can get behind that idea,” Connor said.

“Me too,” Quentin agreed.

Ginny appeared as the kids were getting their broomsticks out, and gave permission for Lucy and Ian to join them. Adam, it seemed, had gone to Aunt Hermione’s for the day, to play with their daughter, Prue. Without him to worry about, they could make up a makeshift game of Quidditch, even if they didn’t have any bludgers or a snitch. They quickly improvised, and were in the air in no time, enjoying the first day or their week together. By the time they landed three hours later, all of them had red noses from being out in the sun too long, and they were all wind-swept and happy.

Everyone was surprised to find that Connor’s dad was home when they get inside, and was casually eating biscuits and milk at the table with Adam and his overly large Puffskein. Connor approaches the table to snag a biscuit, but Snowball’s deep rumbling growl freezes him in mid-grab. He hastily stumbled backward, glaring at Adam.

“Dad,” Connor complained in something very close to a whine, “Could you please tell Adam to keep that thing off the table?”

“Uh, what is that?” Zack asked, with a cautious tone. Whatever it was has just been growling disturbingly at his best friend, and didn’t appear to have a front end that was readily discernable from its back end.

“Hi Zack!” Adam said excitedly when he spotted the other boy. Zack had become acquainted with Adam the previous Christmas, when he had been a guest at the Potter’s home for the holidays. “Don’t you remember Snowball? This is Snowball! I got him for Christmas when you were here last time! He’s my favourite now, but he doesn’t like Connor at all. He actually ate one of Connor’s socks last month; it was great! So you’re here for the rest of the summer? Maybe we can play some games while you’re here!”

Zack remembered vividly, now, the constant chatter that Connor’s littlest brother was capable of maintaining for several minutes without seeming to take a breath.

“Hi Adam,” he greeted politely. “So this is Snowball?”

“Yep!” Adam answered proudly and (thankfully) briefly.

“Are Puffskeins supposed to get this large?” he asked, eying the white ball of fur as though looking for signs of teeth.

“Nope!” Adam said proudly. “I reckon I’ve got the biggest one in the whole world!”

“Why hasn’t someone from the Department of…?”Quentin began.

“They did,” Harry interrupted. “But Snowball ate them.”

Rachel snorted as Zack backed away, and Quentin laughed at the look of horror on his face. Ivy looked mildly fascinated by the mutant fur ball, but didn’t seem inclined to get any closer to it.

“That’s just disturbing,” Quentin announced, earning a chuckle from Mr. Potter.

“You have no idea,” Harry sardonically said. “Adam, take Snowball off of the table now.”

Adam adopted a sulky pout, but obeyed, climbing the stairs to his room with his pet in his arms.

“Why don’t you all sit down for a minute,” Harry said to the group. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

He waved his hand, and the chairs around the table slid out. The kids all sat, saying nothing about the display of wandless magic they were witnessing. He gestured again toward the cabinet, which flew open to emit several glasses, which landed on the table. He poured them all a glass of milk from the bottle on the table, and offered them all some biscuits before he got to the point.

“Tomorrow,” be said when they were all settled. “I’m going to be collecting my cousin’s son, Rupert. Rupert will be attending Hogwarts this year as a first year.”

“So your cousin is letting him go?” Rachel asked.

Harry looked at her strangely, and Connor admitted, “We kind of read your letter.”

Harry merely sighed and nodded. “Rupert will be staying here for the remainder of the summer, and your mother and I will be seeing that he gets all of his school supplies and makes it onto the train. That’s where all of you come in.”

“All of us?” Connor asked quizzically.

“He wants us to be nice to him,” Rachel said, as if it were obvious. “The poor kid is leaving home for a completely new place, with people he doesn’t know. You want us to help him adjust, don’t you, Uncle Harry?”

Harry nodded at his niece and muttered quietly, “I’d be happy if you didn’t just kill him.”

“Pardon?” Quentin asked, sure he had heard wrong.

“Listen,” Harry said, appealing to the kids before him. “Rupert has lived a pretty privileged life up until now, and he’s being a bit difficult. His father and mother are one hundred percent against Rupert attending Hogwarts, but reluctantly gave in when I said that I would take over as his legal guardian within the magical community. Rupert seems to be set upon learning magic, and who can blame him? But his father and his grandparents have a very strong aversion to anything magical, and have done their best to discourage him. I just want you all to keep this in mind when he arrives tomorrow, and try to be tolerant of him if he seems a little bad-mannered or ill-tempered.”

“Okay, Dad,” Lucy agreed immediately. Lucy was probably the easiest person to get along with that Connor knew, and managed to find something in common with just about everyone she met.

“Thank you,” Harry said, smoothing down her unruly hair black affectionately. “I’m sure that things will be much more agreeable when Rupert settles in and finds out more about us. Just give him a chance, okay?”

Connor and his friends nodded in agreement, all of them thinking that Rupert would probably need a friend if his family were being so awful to him. Conversation at dinner that night revolved around some of the things that they might share with Rupert about the magical world that would help to make him more comfortable. Harry and Ginny kept passing worried glances at each other as they ate, but the children seemed to be excited over the prospect of initiating a Muggle-born into the family and into their lives. Zack, being Muggle-born himself, regaled them with stories of his first experiences with magic until it was time to clear up.

The kids were excused to the living room to entertain themselves, and they settled around the low table in the centre of the room to catch up on each other’s news.

“Our Uncle Charlie’s daughter Maggie, and Uncle George’s son Patrick will both be starting Hogwarts this year, too,” Rachel told the others as she pulled out several decks of cards for them all to play exploding snap. “Maybe they’ll get to be friends with Rupert.”

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly as Zack related the story of how he had used the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Bearding Balm he’d gotten last year, and arrived at breakfast one morning with hair all over his face, including his lips and eyelids. His mother had screamed herself hoarse, and his father had roared with laughter once he found out that the sudden hair growth was easily washed away. Quentin shared how he had used his Belching Bubbles to great effect every time his parents left him alone with his disagreeable sister, Vanessa. Ivy confessed that she had ‘accidentally’ planted some poultry pellets in one of her parent’s greenhouses, and when her mother had gone out to water, fully-grown live chickens had erupted from the earth and scattered in all directions.

“Oooh!” Rachel said appreciatively at Ivy’s description of the chaos that ensued. “You’ve got to tell that one to Fred and George; they’ll love it!”

“Speaking of Poultry Pellets,” Connor said. “Professor Lupin’s come around a few times this summer, and keeps trying to trick me in to admitting we were the ones who made everyone turn into animals and change colours last April Fool’s day.”

“But McGonagall is still sure it was the Slytherins,” Rachel added. “Just be careful, because Lupin’s sneaky, and he’ll slip a comment into the middle of a conversation in the hopes of slipping you up.”

Mrs. Potter came to chase the children to bed at eleven, and then had to threaten the boys in Connor’s room with a silencing charm at midnight. Connor had a final laugh over Quentin’s assertion that he had been unable to sleep his first week home from Hogwarts, because it was too quiet without Connor’s snoring. They finally turned out the light, and Connor sleepily went over his mental checklist, and cleared his mind of all thought as Clive had taught him to do. He was asleep in minutes, with a smile on his face; it was good to be with his friends again.

All of the children slept late the next day, and Connor’s dad had already left by the time they woke up. His mum had set Dobby to work feeding everyone, while she tackled the job of rearranging bedrooms to accommodate another child, and making sure that everyone had their personal belongings in the right place. In the end, she decided it was just easiest to have Rupert share a room with Ian, and Ian agreed to it, remembering what his father had said about being welcoming. Then she needed to tackle the laundry; three (soon to be four) extra bodies was going to double the workload around the house.
The kids all went out into the garden to stay out or the way, and devised a game of their own making with strange and convoluted rules that no one could remember or keep straight. They were all laughing by the time they were called inside for lunch, and paused when they saw that the Floo had roared to life as they approached. A large figure was spinning into view, and they could hear a faint shouting that was getting closer as they watched. A loud pop rent the air, and Harry appeared beside the Floo, and dropped a large trunk just in time to catch a soot-covered boy that could only be Rupert as he tumbled out of the fireplace.

“Bloody hell!” the new arrival croaked, and then coughed has he inhaled more ash. His tiny, close-set eyes were watering to relieve themselves of debris, and what they could see of his face through the grime was beet red. They supposed that his hair would be blonde once it was clean, but what had them staring at him with their mouths hanging open was the boy’s size.

Connor was sure he’d never seen a boy a fat as the one standing before him, and thought it was no wonder he was covered in soot. He must have scraped his body across the inside of every Floo that he had spun past on his way here! Remembering his manners, and his parent’s wishes, Connor stepped forward.

“Hello,” he said in a friendly tone, while Quentin tried to stifle his snickering behind him.

Rupert really did look ridiculous covered in black from head to toe, but he certainly didn’t see the humour of it. He was scowling deeply, and tried in vain to straighten his rumpled clothes and look dignified.

“I suppose this is someone’s idea of a joke?” the boy demanded angrily. “What sort of rubbish way is that to travel? I was almost killed!”

“I’m sorry Rupert,” Harry said with a lopsided smile. “You’ll get used to it eventually.”

“I see you didn’t have to travel in some disgustingly dirty fireplace,” came the peevish reply. “Nor get a speck of dirt on you. Why couldn’t I have travelled the way you did?”

No one was laughing now. Connor’s father had warned them that he might be a bit ill tempered, but this boy had just used swear words and been very nasty.

“Because,” Harry explained patiently, “Apparating requires a license, just like driving a car, and you won’t be allowed to do it until you’re of age. That won’t be until you’re seventeen years old, so until then, you’ll have to rely on more mundane forms of travel.”

Rupert was not impressed to hear this. “So I’ll have to spend the next six or seven years arriving everywhere I go a filthy mess?”

“No,” Harry explained again, holding his expression in as pleasant countenance as he could. He withdrew his wand and used it to remove as much of the soot stuck to Rupert as he could without an outright scouring charm. “Floo travel can be messy, but once you get the hang of it, it won’t be this bad. There are also other forms of travel, and places that cannot be accessed by Floo. You’ll be taking the train to Hogwarts, just like I told you and your father earlier.”

“Well this is just positively stupid,” Rupert announced petulantly. “And who are all of these people?”

“Rupert, I would like you to meet my son Connor,” Harry pointed to Connor, who politely said hello again. “And my daughter Lucy.” She stepped forward, brown eyes still shocked by this strange boys’ behaviour. “Her twin brother Ian, and the youngest, Adam.” Ian ran a hand through his mop of red hair, and waved half-heartedly. Adam hid behind Zack and looked out at Rupert from behind his legs.

“And who are all the others?” Rupert demanded, not returning anyone’s greetings by the slightest acknowledgement at all. “Do you run a hostel or something?”

“These are Connor’s friends from school, who arrived yesterday. They will be our guests for the rest of the summer. This is Quentin Malfoy, Zack Ellis, Ivy Longbottom, and Rachel Weasley. Rachel also happens to be my niece.” Harry introduced the other kids politely, and each one of them said hello in turn.

“Oh,” Rupert said, ignoring them all out of hand. “And where is my room going to be?”

“You’ll be sharing a room with Ian,” Ginny answered from the doorway. “Would you like it if we took your bags up for you so that you could have some lunch with the others, or would you like to wash up and have a rest?”

Connor could tell by the overly pleasant tone of voice his mother used, that she was trying hard to rein in her temper. No doubt that she had heard Rupert’s entrance and subsequent rudeness, but was determined to try to keep their first meeting as polite as possible.

“Who are you, then?” Rupert demanded. “And why do I have to share a room?”

Ginny’s smile slipped a notch, but she remained silent. Connor thought that maybe she didn’t answer him because she was afraid she would shout at him if she tried.

“She,” Harry answered through gritted teeth, “is my wife, Ginny. You may call her Mrs. Potter. You will share a room, because all of the others are occupied at the moment.”

Rupert seemed to sense that Harry’s good will was at the end of its tether, because he simply nodded. “I’d like to wash up and have some lunch, I think.”

“All right,” Ginny said. “Right this way.”

She drew her wand and levitated Rupert’s trunk before her, and mounted the stairs, leaving the newest guest to follow behind her.