Foreshadowing the Unexpected

Chapter Three - Preparations

When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure. --Peter Marshall

Sunday morning was quiet and relaxed.

The boys got up late in the morning and dressed for a day outdoors. They planned to trek across the surrounding countryside and stop at the stream that Connor had told them about the day before. As they passed Ian's room, the sound of Rupert's snores could be heard through the door. Connor wondered if he would be lucky enough to sneak his friends out before the annoying git woke.

In the kitchen they found Ginny sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet; Harry was at the stove wearing an apron and expertly flipping an omelette while he whistled tunelessly.

"Good morning, boys," Harry greeted them. "Hungry?"

"Starved," Connor said with a grin as they all sat down at the table. "Are Ivy and Rachel up yet?"

"Yes," Ginny said, looking up from her paper. "They were up an hour ago. They've gone out to the tree house with Adam and Ian. That nest of eggs that they've been watching all summer has begun to hatch, and they're trying to get a closer look."

"We were thinking about going to the stream and doing some exploring today," Connor announced, ducking as his father sent a plate over his head to settle in front of his mum.

"That sounds like fun," she answered. "It's supposed to be particularly hot today."

"Do you think that we could take a hamper of food with us?" Connor asked. "That way we wouldn't have to worry about being back in time for lunch."

"If you want to make one up, I don't think that would be a problem," Ginny answered, taking a bite of her omelette. "But it's Sunday, so you're on your own."

At Quentin's quizzical look, Connor explained. "Sunday is Dobby's and my mum's day off. Neither one of them does housework or cooking on Sundays unless it's a holiday or a special occasion of some sort."

"That would explain your dad wearing an apron," Zack said with a smile.

"Hey," Harry said with a mock stern voice. "It's a very manly apron. Do you want breakfast or not?"

"Sure, Mr Potter," Zack said. "Would you like some help?"

"I wouldn't turn it down," Harry answered.

The boys all went over to the counter and were given different tasks, and then Harry sat next to Ginny and snagged her cup to sip at her tea. There was a sound on the stairs, and Connor saw that Rupert had emerged, and that he didn't look to be in any better a mood than he had been at dinner the night before. He looked at Mr and Mrs Potter sitting at the table, then over at the boys, who were enthusiastically chopping ham, grating cheese and stirring eggs.

"Don't you have a servant to do that stuff?" he asked, as though afraid he might be put to work.

"The boys are doing just fine," Ginny answered with an unconcerned air. "Mr Potter was just about to make everyone some omelettes; would you care for one?"

He nodded and shrugged at the same time, and sat down at the table without offering to help. He stared out the window, ignoring everyone else, until the other boys finished the ingredient preparations, and the hiss and sizzle of cold egg meeting hot pan filled the air.

Connor set out napkins and silverware, poured out glasses of juice for everyone, and then sat down.

"Thank you," Quentin said politely.

"Yes, thanks, Connor," Zack said in a slightly louder than normal voice.

Everyone in the room paused to stare at Rupert pointedly, so that he could not look in any direction without meeting someone's expectant eyes.

"Thanks," he grunted reluctantly.

"You're welcome," Connor answered cheerfully. "We're in for a treat. My Dad makes the best omelettes ever."

"What would you like in yours, Rupert?" Harry asked from his place at the stove.

"Cheese and tomatoes," he said, surveying what was on the counter. He looked up to see the others staring at him again and sighed heavily. "Please."

"Can do," Harry said with a grin. He directed his wand at the bowls of cheese and tomatoes, making a bit of each fly into the eggs before neatly folding the omelette over. Then he transferred it over to a plate, and sent it across the room with his wand to land in front of Rupert.

This time, Rupert didn't wait for everyone to stare. He looked up at Harry and said an exaggerated and mocking, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry answered. "How about you, Quentin?"

"Just cheese, please," Quentin answered.

Soon everyone was eating the excellent omelettes that Harry had made.

They only looked up when Ron entered - he had apparently let himself into the house, and wandered into the kitchen.

"Good morning, everyone!" he said cheerfully. "What's for breakfast?"

"You can make yourself am omelette, if you want," Harry said. "The stuff's still out."

"Right," Ron said easily. "Thanks."

Connor knew that his uncle had been in and out of this house often enough over the years to know that he could easily make himself at home. He poured the remainder of whatever was left in any of the bowls into the frying pan, and waved his wand over it in a stirring motion while it all sizzled and cooked together. By the time he sat down at the table next to Harry, he had a huge pile of scrambled eggs laden with a bit of everything in them.

"I see Hermione let you out today," Harry said, "even after being out all night."

"She can't resist me," Ron answered, waggling his eyebrows and grinning.

Rupert stared at this newcomer in something akin to shock as he eyed the enormous amount of food on his plate.

Ginny chuckled and folded up the paper.

"Don't worry, Rupert; Ron's hollow. He can eat twice his body weight, and often does, if no one stops him."

Ron simply grinned and took a huge bite.

"Rupert," Harry said politely, "this is my brother-in-law, Ron Weasley. He's Rachel's father. Ron, this is my cousin's youngest son, Rupert. He's staying with us until term starts at Hogwarts."

"Hello, Rupert," Ron said in a friendly tone, as if he hadn't heard about him already. "What do you think of everything so far? Excited to learn some magic?"

"I suppose," Rupert said, looking at his plate.

"Well you couldn't have a better start than having Harry to be your guide," Ron said to the top of the boy's head. "How many wizards can say that the first wizard that they ever met was the most famous wizard of all?"

Harry groaned and shook his head at Ron.

Ron looked sheepish and said, "Sorry, I thought he'd know."

"Know what?" Rupert asked, bringing his head up to stare at the adults.

"Yeah," Connor said after a moment of silence, "Dad's a bit famous. It's kind of a pain, really."

Harry chuckled darkly. "It's all a long time ago," he said. "Before you all were even born."

"Mr Potter defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard in history when he was only seventeen years old," Quentin supplied, apparently oblivious to the adults' attempt to change the subject. "You'll learn all about it in History of Magic class."

Rupert's eyes had gone wide now, and Harry glared at Ron, who simply shrugged.

"Like he wasn't going to find out," Ron said by way of an excuse.

"How long ago was that?" Rupert asked.

"About twenty years," Harry said. "A long time."

"And you're still the most famous wizard there is?" Rupert persisted.

"I wouldn't say that," Harry said, beginning to turn red. "Probably just the most recent."

"Mr Potter doesn't like to talk about it that much," Ginny said gently. "We can give you some books to read, if you're interested in knowing more about it. Your new history textbook will have a bit about it, and we're going to be going to get everyone their school supplies tomorrow."

Rupert seemed to want to ask more questions, but Harry spoke before he could give voice to any new questions. "So you kids are going to pack a food hamper, right?"

"What for?" Ivy asked, walking into the kitchen holding a battered pair of omnioculars. "Hi, Mr Weasley."

"For going to the stream today for a picnic," Zack said.

"Great!" Rachel said, coming in behind Ivy. "Hey, Dad."

"Count me out," Ian said, coming in behind the girls. "Adam and I are going to Fred and George's shop for the day. They're letting us test out some new products."

"Better you than me," Rachel said with a grin.

"Did you want to come along, Rupert?" Quentin asked, apparently feeling the need to be polite. His ears turned faintly pink when Ginny smiled at him in gratitude.

"Where is it?" Rupert asked suspiciously.

"About two kilometres, as the owl flies," Connor said casually. He took his plate to the sink and began rummaging for biscuits and crisps to pack, hoping that Rupert wouldn't be interested.

"How would we get there?" Rupert asked.

"Walking, of course!" Rachel told him, as if it were obvious.

"Then no. It's hot out." Rupert said dismissively.

In fact, Connor noticed the younger was already lightly perspiring, even though the house was relatively cool.

"The fresh air and exercise might do you some good," Ginny suggested mildly. Then she turned to Connor and said, "Pack something more than junk, young man."

"Yes ma'am," he answered, and obligingly got some fruit out of the chilling cabinet as well.

"I'll make some sandwiches," Rachel volunteered, shooing Connor away from the counter. "Why don't you find everyone some towels and get an old blanket to spread out."

"Well," Ron said, shovelling the last of his eggs into his mouth, "should we get started?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, taking Ron's and his own plate to the sink. "I want to try that charm we were talking about last night."

"Er, Mr Potter?" Quentin said timidly. "Is my broom still in one piece?"

"So far," Harry answered with a wink.

Quentin made a small sound in this throat, something akin to a whimper.

Connor felt a little sympathy for him as Ron laughed loudly, and the men disappeared through the door to the basement. Ginny got up and found them a large basket to carry their lunch in, and Zack helped Rachel pack it with sandwiches and the other things Connor had retrieved. Ivy and Quentin had snuck over the basement door and had their ears pressed against it to see if they could hear anything that was going on inside.

"What will you do today, Rupert?" Ian asked.

"I suppose I'll find something to do around here. Maybe read a bit." He didn't get to finish his thought, because yet another red-haired man had just appeared in the centre of the room, startling nearly everyone.

"George!" Ginny scolded. "You're going to scare the life out us.'

"Sorry," he smiled. He didn't look sorry at all. "Are my two victims ready to go?"

"I'm ready, Uncle George!" Adam cried, launching himself at the man's legs.

"Hey, champ!" George scooped Adam up in one arm with a grunt and said, "You're getting too big for this!"

Adam hugged him around the neck and wriggled to the ground again. George stepped up to Ginny to give her a kiss on the temple. "You've got a houseful, I see," he observed. "I recognize the Weasleys and the Potters, and I remember Zack from last Christmas. Ivy and Quentin have both been into my shop; that means you must be Rupert."

Rupert looked surprised to find that George knew his name, but nodded.

"Hello. I'm Ginny's brother, George. Harry Flooed Zoë yesterday - that's my wife - and told her about things. I think we're all going to Diagon Alley together tomorrow to buy everything everyone needs once the letters arrive. My Patrick is starting this year too, so you'll be the same age," George told Rupert. He ignored the way the boy was staring at his empty sleeve where his arm should have been. "You know, it's been years since I saw your father, but if memory serves, you look a lot like him."

"What happened to your arm?" Rupert asked bluntly, obviously unable to keep the question in.

"Giant ripped it off," George answered promptly, without any sign of being embarrassed.

"A giant." Rupert's expression showed his scepticism. "Like Jack and the Bean Stalk?"

"No," George said levelly. "Nothing so nice as that."

Rupert looked around at the others, but no one looked as though they were trying to hold in a laugh. In fact, Ivy looked horrified, and Zack's mouth was hanging open.

"Well, who's going with me?" George asked, dispersing the sudden tension in the room.

"I am!" Adam shouted.

"Me, too!" Ian said, looking eager at the prospect of being a test subject.

"To the Floo with you then, and I'll meet you in the Leaky Cauldron," he ordered, giving them a gentle shove in the right direction.

"I want those two back in exactly the same condition as when they left here!" Ginny said to her brother firmly. "No pig snouts or blue hair or boils or anything else."

"You're no fun." George said with a mock-pout, and with a crack, he was gone.

Rupert sat there looking slightly dazed. "He was joking, wasn't he?"

"No," Ginny said simply. "He lost his arm in the war."

"What war?" Rupert asked.

"The same one where Uncle Harry defeated Voldemort." Rachel said. "The dark wizard that we were talking about earlier."

"And you're telling me that there's really such a thing as giants?" he said, sounding slightly disbelieving and a bit fearful.

"Not anymore," Ginny answered sadly. "At least not anywhere in Europe."

"Well we're all ready to go," Connor said, ignoring the indignant look Rupert was shooting at him for the interruption. He lifted the basket off of the counter. "This is heavier than I thought! Could you make it a bit lighter, Mum?"

His mum took her wand from her pocket and cast a simple charm on the basket, then admonished them all to be careful and to have fun.

The girls slipped up the stairs to put their bathing suits on under their clothes.

"Are you sure you don't want to come along?" Connor asked Rupert one last time.

"I'm sure," he said. "Is Dobby around at all?" His tone was hopeful.

"No," Ginny said. "It's his day off, and he's spending it with friends."

"Oh." He looked a bit disappointed by this news. "Is it okay for me to look through some of the books around here?"

"Sure," Ginny answered. "Any dangerous ones are locked up, so feel free to read whatever you like."

The girls returned from upstairs, and Connor and his friends left the house, and set off down the worn track that they children had made from years of tramping through the grass. The sun was bright, the grass was soft and lush, and it was a perfect day to be outdoors. It only took them about thirty minutes of brisk walking to reach the wide stream, which was in the centre of a cluster of tall trees that had grown at the water's edge. There were shallow areas that they could wade in, but the thick rope hanging from a branch over the water was a sure sign that the area beneath it was deep enough for swimming. It was placed perfectly to make it easy for swimmers to swing out over the water and land in the centre of the deepest area.

Ivy and Rachel set out the blanket and hung the towels on some low tree branches where they would be easy to grab.

The shade helped to dispel some of the oppressive heat, and the occasional breeze was welcome as they shucked off their shoes, socks and shirts.

Zack climbed the tree with the rope hanging from it and shimmied back down, holding the rope. With a deep breath, he stepped away from the edge of the water as far as the rope would allow. He took a few running steps forward and swung out over the water, letting go about mid-way over the deep area, and plunged into the stream.

His shout when he surfaced made several birds and a rabbit flee the wooded area in fright. "That's cold!" he said, treading water. "I mean... refreshing! You should all come in!"

Quentin and Connor both laughed, and Rachel arched an eyebrow as she noticed that his skin had erupted in gooseflesh. Ivy, on the other hand, was reaching out to grab the rope that was still swinging in wide arcs over the water.

"You're not really going to..." Rachel began, but it was too late.

Ivy screamed just before she hit the water, and Zack laughed when she surfaced with her teeth already chattering. "Where does this stream originate?" she asked in a shivering voice. "The North Pole?"

"Oh come on!" Zack chided. "It's not that bad! It just takes a minute to get used to it."

"Maybe if you're a penguin!" she protested, but made no move to leave the water.

Connor said suddenly, spinning on the spot to look at Quentin. "Don't sit there!" she warned with enough urgency in his tone to have everyone staring.

Quentin, who had been about to take a seat on a fallen log, waved his arms like windmills to keep the momentum from taking him all the way down. He spun to see what danger he'd narrowly avoided. "What is it?"

Connor bent down and grabbed a stone the size of his fist, and the others backed away. He threw the stone at the log, and hit it with a solid thump.

A long, thin snake, bothered by the disturbance, slithered out of a deep crevice in the wood, and slipped away from them through the leaves and out of sight.

"Was it poisonous?" Zack asked, hoisting himself out of the water. He turned to help Ivy out, and handed her a towel before reaching for one of his own.

"Don't know," Connor said. "Does it matter? Even non-poisonous snakes can bite if you make them mad enough."

"Thanks, mate," Quentin said with a small shudder.

The friends spent the rest of the day enjoying the late summer in the shade of the trees, occasionally wading or splashing in the stream. They were looking forward to their outing to Diagon Alley the next day, and discussed all of the shops they wanted to visit if they could. Connor felt sure that they would be able to go off on their own for a bit, since it would take the first year kids longer to get their supplies than everyone else. They didn't start back to the Potter's house until late in the afternoon when an owl fluttered through the trees with a note for them that read, "Time to come home."

They tramped across the fields; Ivy and Rachel gathered wildflowers as they went. The boys talked about trying to tune in to catch the Bats/Arrows match that night on the wireless.

As they approached the low stone wall that marked the beginning of Potter property, Connor noticed that Rupert was sitting in the vegetable patch, half-heartedly pulling weeds from the dark soil around the squashes.

Connor walked up to the edge of the tilled earth and said, "Someone must have told Mum that they didn't have anything to do."

Rupert just scowled up at him.

"How long have you been out here?" Connor asked. His mother doled out this particular chore fairly often, and how long she made you keep at it depended on how annoyed she was, and how much effort you put into the task.

"I don't know," Rupert sulked. "It seems like hours!"

"Well, you're probably safe to come inside, now that we're all back," Connor said. He was feeling happy and content after such a nice day, and had weeded the vegetables often enough to commiserate.

Rupert looked relieved and quickly scrambled to his feet. "I'm glad," he said, looking over to a shaded corner of the patch. "I swear I keep seeing little animals running around here, but as soon as I try to see them properly, they've gone."

"Those are probably just garden gnomes," Connor said. "No doubt the next one of us in trouble with Mum or Dad will be de-gnoming the whole garden."

Rupert was looking at Connor as though he'd gone mad, and Zack laughed. "Gnomes are little garden pests," he explained. "Not like the garden decorations Muggles put out. They look a bit like potatoes with arms and legs, and live underground."

Rupert didn't have a reply to that.

They all trooped into the house, and Ginny came to meet them. "Sorry to call you home," she said. "But Clive just Flooed, and he can't come tomorrow night, and wants to come tonight instead."

"So much for the Quidditch match," Connor muttered. "You guys should be able to listen to it, though. I'd better go get washed up."

"Don't worry, Connor," Ginny said, ruffling his hair. "He won't keep you that long. Unless the Snitch is caught in the first ten minutes, you should be able to hear most of the match."

Connor's friends knew from his letters that Clive was his Occlumency instructor, but Rupert looked confused.

"Who's Clive?" he asked.

Before Connor to respond, his mother answered for him. "Connor has a special tutor who works with him a few times a week"

"Why? Is he a bit slow or something?" Rupert asked.

"Not at all," Ginny said, answering before Connor could give in to the indignation showing on his face and lash out. "Mr Sharpe is teaching Connor a subject not offered at Hogwarts."

"Why does he get to learn extra magic?" Rupert demanded. "Why should he have an advantage over everyone else? I think if my father knew...."

Rupert paused mid-sentence, looking pensive. Connor wondered what he had been about to say, even though he knew it probably wouldn't have been nice. If Rupert's father knew what, exactly? Didn't the boy's father hate magic? Surely he wouldn't care if his son got extra lessons in magic or not, and Connor thought that maybe Rupert had realized that before he could finish speaking.

Everyone was looking at Rupert with various expressions of annoyance. Rupert clearly didn't like anyone having anything better than he did, and was obviously used to not getting his way.

"Connor's extra lessons are not necessary for most people," Ginny said. "They're to help him stay focused and to repel unwanted to distractions in his mind from outside forces."

"So why doesn't everyone else need to learn it?" Rupert asked, seemingly still suspicious that he was being cheated out of something.

"Because not everyone is like me," Connor snapped. He used the explanation that his parents had used to explain all of this to Adam at the beginning of summer. "I have a high sensitivity to, er, certain things that other people don't normally notice. To keep it from distracting me all the time, Mr Sharpe helps me to filter it out so I can concentrate on regular stuff."

"It still doesn't seem fair," Rupert said.

"Wait until your first week at Hogwarts is over, and see how much you'd like to take extra classes then," Rachel suggested impatiently. "Pretty soon we're all going to be too busy to care about what anyone else might be learning."

Rupert just scowled in response.

"So," Ginny said, changing the subject. "Mr Potter should be coming out of his workshop in about an hour to turn on the game, and Mr Sharpe will be arriving in about fifteen minutes for Connor. You 're all on your own until then."

"How long are your lessons, Connor?" Zack asked.

"About an hour," Connor said. "Clive's pretty cool. He might let me out a bit sooner so I can hear the whole match."

Everyone went to wash up and change, and then Connor disappeared out to the small schoolhouse where he would meet Clive for his lesson.

He was a few minutes early, so he chose a seat and began to practice what he had been learning all summer. At first he opened up his mind to everything he could sense around him, briefly allowing himself to be assaulted by a cacophony of stimuli, all pressing in on him. Slowly, he began to filter it out and clear his mind, visualizing a calm blue sky.

He had chosen the sky as his focus since he had found it hard to think of nothing. It seemed to work well for him, helping him to blur his other thoughts and any outside sights or sound into insignificant static at the back of his mind.

He didn't even hear it when Clive came in and took a seat across from him, observing his work. Slowly, as Clive had taught him, he let his consciousness bring things back into focus, refusing to let distracting, unnecessary stimuli through the filter that he had created in his mind. Those things that he did not let into his conscious mind gathered together and took the shape of fluffy white clouds, which dotted the blue sky of his inner vision; easily ignored unless he wanted to pay particular attention to them. He allowed more of his surroundings to come into focus as his mind filtered though the mental static.

Soon he became aware that Clive was grinning at him from across the desk he was sitting at.

"You're doing great," Clive said warmly. "Did you have any stubborn images that refused to take cloud form?"

"Nope," Connor said with satisfaction. "Though it still seems strange how quiet everything seems once I'm done doing that."

"That will always be true to an extent," Clive said. "The images and thoughts and energy around you gradually build up during the course of the day, and you don't realize how loud the mental noise has actually gotten until it's suddenly no longer there."

"It's like going suddenly deaf," Connor said. "But I don't notice that it's building up until an especially strong image comes trying to get in, and.... Uh-oh."

"What is it?"

"My dad's going to - I've gotta go!"

Connor scrambled out of his chair and sprinted out of the schoolroom and darted toward the house, with Clive hot on his heels. They ran in through the back door and down the hall to the kitchen, then turned right, skidding to a stop at the basement door. Connor's hand slipped off the knob twice in his haste, but he finally fumbled it open and shouted, "Dad! Don't do it! It's the wrong jar!"

There was a sound of glass breaking, and he heard his Uncle Ron swearing.

"Are you all right?" Clive called down over Connor's shoulder.

"Yes," Harry called back. "You can come down."

Connor and Clive descended the steps to find Ron clearing up a mess with his wand, and Harry examining a jar with a red label on it.

"He was right, Ron," Harry said. "My glasses fogged up, and I grabbed the wrong jar. If we had gotten any of that other stuff on while the polish was still wet, we'd be on the way to St. Mungo's by now."

"That's encouraging," Ron said shakily. "Thanks for saving me the trip, Connor."

Connor just nodded, working to catch his breath, and Harry looked at his son and Clive a little sheepishly. "In my defence, I want to say that the other jar had a red label, too."

Ron snorted by way of reply, and cuffed Harry on the side of the head a little harder than strictly necessary, prompting Harry to punch him in the arm.

"What is going on down here?"

Ron flinched to hear the sound of his wife's voice at the top of the steps.

Connor grinned. His Aunt Hermione was one of the most intimidating people he knew when she wanted to be, but he could tell when she came down the stairs that she wasn't really angry right now.

"Nothing," Ron said quickly. "What makes you think anything is going on?"

Connor began to scratch at his suddenly itchy hands, thinking that what ever had been in the jar that broke must be similar to whatever it was that they used in the steam at Dog Star.

"It couldn't be the fact that Connor came tearing in here shouting," Hermione answered, crossing her arms in front of her. She had gotten her hair cut since the last time Connor had seen her, and the chin-length style suited her wild curls.

"Or that we heard something breaking, or that your trousers are torn."

"Come on," Connor said to Clive. "Disaster averted."

Clive raised a hand in salute to the other adults in the room, and followed Connor back up the stairs. Connor could hear the other kids playing some sort of game in the living room, but they didn't seem the least bit surprised about Connor's outburst. He and Clive walked through the kitchen and back down the hallway, and Connor thought of stopping to ask his mother for some more of the lotion she had given him for his hands before, but decided that the itch wasn't too bad now that they had left the basement.

"So," Clive said as they sat down in the schoolroom again. "That must have been a particularly strong premonition to break through so soon after you'd cleared everything out of your mind."

" I suppose," Connor said. "It seems like the ones that do get through lately are the ones that warn me that someone is in danger. Earlier today, I kept Quentin from sitting on a snake."

"And how many times a day have you been having warnings like that?" Clive asked.

"Before today, it's been about a week since the last one. The last time was at Dog Star when the boiler in the steam room was acting up, and Scully almost got burned," Connor said. "The little things get through sometimes, usually later in the day, when it's been a while since I've practiced. It's loads better since you started teaching me."

"Well, that's a good thing," Clive assured him. "And you don't necessarily want to block out those warning messages that you're getting, so I wouldn't say that it was a problem. When the little things start to come through, try to find a quiet spot to practice the Occlumency for a few minutes, and you should do just fine. Especially during the first couple of weeks of school when there's going to be a lot more energy moving around you, you'll probably need it two or three times a day."

He had said this before, and Connor knew that his constant repetition was Clive's way of making sure he got the message. Don't slack off on your practice.

They went through the visualization again together, with Clive using a weak Legilimency spell to follow Connor's progress. Clive was pleased when Connor was able to block him out and prevent him from entering his mind to cause a distraction.

They spoke casually for a few more minutes, and then Clive clapped Connor companionably on the shoulder. "I think we're done for today," he said. "I'm going to get going; I don't want to miss the Quidditch match! Go Bats!" With a wink, he Disapparated, and Connor went back to the house to join his friends.

Connor found that his Aunt Hermione had brought over a huge cauldronful of beef stew and was busily ladling it into large earthenware bowls. The noise from the living room, Connor found, included Ian and Adam, returned from their day with Uncle George. Lucy, Gwen and Prue had joined the family as well. Most of the kids were seated on the floor around the large, low table in the centre of the room, and were playing a card game called 'crazy legs,' which his mother claimed to have invented when she was a kid. The wireless had been brought out, and his Uncle Ron was fooling with the knobs, looking for the Quidditch match.

Connor flopped down on the couch between Zack and Rupert, and nudged Ian's back with the toe of his trainer, just to be annoying. The room was noisy and crowded - just the way Connor liked it best on a Sunday evening when family was over. Zack was leaning forward in his seat, peering over Ivy's shoulder at her cards, and Rupert seemed to be immersed in an old and battered copy of Quidditch through the Ages. His dad was wrestling in the corner with Adam and Prue, who were both six, gently tossing them around while they shrieked with glee.

Connor would miss all of this when they went back to Hogwarts next week, and knew that his parents would, too.

It wasn't long before everyone was sitting around with large bowls of stew, and listening to the game on the wireless. The card game was still carrying on, but the players were only half paying attention to it, and Ron whooped and cheered for the Bats as they effectively dominated the match.

The Arrows did end up catching the Snitch, but the damage had been done, and by the time the match was done an hour and twelve minutes later the Bats had won by thirty points.

Connor grinned as his father fished a few Galleons from his pocket and handed them over to Uncle Ron while his mother scowled half-heartedly. His dad couldn't resist rooting for the underdog, though Connor thought that it was kind of stupid to bet on them, whether you cheered for them or not.

It was after ten by the time the Weasleys left with Lucy in tow and Ginny chased everyone off to bed, claiming that they had a very busy day tomorrow and would want to be well rested.

As they all climbed the stairs, Ivy asked Rupert, "So, you're going to give Hogwarts a try after all?"

"I don't really have a choice," he said. "If I go home now, I'll never hear the end of it. Kyle will call me a quitter, my Dad will just say 'I told you so,' and I'll never live it down."

"I think you're making the right choice," she told him kindly. "You'll see."

The next morning, Ginny woke all of the kids and had everyone at the table eating breakfast by nine. Harry had taken the day off to help get the kids their school things, and they were just waiting for the post owl to arrive with the book lists for the older kids.

"Where are Ian and Adam going while we're gone?" Connor asked as he buttered his toast.

"They're going to spend the day at Ron and Hermione's," Ginny said.

"Post's here," Connor said.

Rupert looked at him strangely - his back was to the window.

Connor just shrugged.

Harry stood and opened the window, and a large brown owl swooped in with a thick packet of letters bearing the Hogwarts seal.

"I've got five new books this year," Connor said when Harry handed him his letter. "Standard Book of Spells: Grade Three, A Practical Guide to Divination, Magical Creatures: From Flippers to Fur, Defence Against What's Out There, and 1012 Magical Herbs and Fungi: Revised Edition."

"Ivy and I are taking Arithmancy instead of Care of Magical Creatures," Quentin said. "Plus, I have Muggle Studies."

Harry almost choked on his tea at this announcement, evidently not quite able to grasp the concept of a Malfoy wanting to learn more about Muggle life. Ginny thumped him none too kindly on the back and said, "Those are excellent choices."

"I'm taking Divination as well, though," Ivy said.

"I chose Ancient Runes in place of Divination, but I'll be with Connor in Care of Magical Creatures," Zack said. "Professor Lupin said I had the right sort of brain for Ancient Runes, whatever that means. I asked him if he took Runes when he was at school, and he said, 'Merlin, no!' I wasn't sure whether he meant it in a nice way or not."

"How come you're taking all of those classes?" Rupert asked. "None of those were on my list."

"We still have to take all of the ones we had in first and second year," Quentin explained. "But in third year, you choose two electives to take as well."

"Okay, everybody," Harry said, draining his teacup. "Finish up and get your money and anything else you'll need. Rupert, I took the money from your father, and opened an account at Gringotts for you, as he requested. He gave me enough money for at least a couple of terms, plus some extra for you to have spending money."

When it was time to go, everyone in the kitchen was wearing robes except for Rupert.

"Don't worry," Ginny said, seeing that he felt out of place. "You can go as you are. There will be a lot of kids around who will be dressed in Muggle clothes today. Or if you'd prefer, I've got an old cloak here that I hemmed up that should fit you."

Rupert opted to take the cloak, and cringed as Ginny held out the pot of Floo Powder to Ian. He waited while Ian and Adam went on their way to their Aunt and Uncle's house, and became increasingly anxious as his turn drew nearer. He started badly when Quentin and Rachel had each disappeared with a whoosh.

"Hey," Ivy said in a soothing voice when she saw how jumpy he was. "You'll do fine. Just be sure to keep your elbows in, stand up as straight as you can, and keep your eyes and mouth closed."

Connor nodded encouragingly.

Rupert gave her a tight-lipped little nod, but was too tense to say anything.

"Okay, Rupert," Harry said. "Your turn. It'll be fine now that you know what to expect."

Rupert stepped up into the fireplace and took a pinch of powder with a slightly trembling hand, and called out, "Diagon Alley!" as he threw the powder down.

"Do you think he'll come out all right?" Ivy asked as he whisked out of sight.

"Only one way to find out," Harry said, and handed the pot of Floo powder to Ginny before Disapperating.

"You next, Ivy," Ginny said, though she looked slightly worried. If the kids could have read her mind, they would know that she hadn't forgotten the time when Harry was new to Floo travel and had mispronounced the address for Diagon Alley, getting lost for a short time.

Finally Connor left in a roar of green flames.

As Connor stumbled out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, Ginny was already there with a brush, whisking away the soot from the shoulders of his robes. Connor looked around to see that Rupert, while a little blacker than everyone else, had made it through in one piece and was scowling as Harry tried to beat the soot off of him.

The eight Weasleys that would be attending Hogwarts this year were also crowded around. With his friends and Rupert also along for the trip, there were thirteen kids, plus his Mum, Dad, plus his Uncles Fred, George and Charlie to oversee the lot of them.

"Okay, everyone," Harry called over the group of chattering kids. "Patrick, Maggie and Rupert will be coming with me and Charlie today, since they are all first years, and have the most to buy."

Rupert, looking uncomfortable with all of the eyes on him, moved around the side of the group and stood beside Harry. Maggie, who had a short cap of springy brown curls, grinned and took her father's hand. Patrick grumbled that he wanted to be with the other kids, but joined Maggie and Rupert anyway.

"Jarod, Aiden, Shawn and Marcus, you're with me," Fred said.

This arrangement made sense, since all of the boys except Marcus were Fred's own children. Marcus looked like the odd one out with his pale blonde hair amidst all of the red, as his mother's Veela colouring had won out over the Weasley red. He was also the only Ravenclaw among them, and happy enough to be spending the day with his cousins, with whom he got along well.

"That leaves Connor, Rachel, Victoria, Ivy, Zack and Quentin to come with George and me," Ginny announced. "Now, we don't want anyone sneaking off on their own without permission, but if you should get separated from the rest, we're going to be meeting back here at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch at half one."

Everyone nodded, then headed in different directions: Rupert and the two cousins towards Madam Malkin's, Fred and his group to Gringotts, and Ginny with Connor and the rest to Flourish and Blotts.

Diagon Alley was particularly busy today; the book lists had been a little later in arriving than in years past, so many parents were hurrying around with their children. Connor saw a lot of friends from school, but did not have the time to stop and chat as they passed with smiles and waves before being shunted off by their parents.

Flourish and Blotts was especially busy, but luckily the clerks had had the foresight to prepare in advance. They had obviously been busy before opening, gathering bundles of books so that the tables leading to the counters carried stacks of texts which were already prepared for the first and second year students. Opposite those tables were others that held all of the elective books that the students would need, sorted by student year.

Everyone grabbed the books they needed, while George and Ginny joined the queue to pay.

"Auntie Ginny," Victoria said when they entered and saw the long line. "Could we go and look at some of the other books while you and Uncle George wait in line? I want to find a book about Sensory Charms."

"I want to find the newest edition of Quidditch Monthly," Connor added.

"I could use an advanced charms..."Zack began to add.

"Go!" George laughed. "We know when we're outnumbered. Just keep an eye on the queue so that you know when to come back."

The kids all scattered to different corners of the shop, though Quentin followed Connor straight to the Quidditch area.

They stood for a while, perusing the different monthly magazines, choosing a few each to add to their purchases, quickly joining the others in line when they realized that it was almost their turn at the counter. Each of the kids paid for their books, and Ginny and George tried to herd them all out of the shop through the thick crowd.

They had almost reached the door when Connor froze in his tracks. He spun suddenly, taking George by surprise, and whispered urgently, "The girl!" while pointing at a little witch no older than Adam.

George turned his head just in time to see a corpulent wizard stumble and fall into a bookcase, which began to wobble dangerously. Pivoting on his heel, George wheeled around and had just enough time to bend his body over the girl, shielding her from a rain of heavy volumes from the top two shelves of the bookcase she was standing beside.

Connor winced as he watched about fifteen very thick books crash down over George's head and back while he held tight to the little witch.

The girl's mother screamed even as she jumped backward away from the avalanche of books, and every patron in the store turned to see what had happened.

By the time George stood upright and released the child, the girl's mother was hugging him tightly and thanking him for saving her daughter.

"Really," George said, shooting a look over at Connor that he couldn't really identify. "It was nothing." George shrugged off all of the thanks and congratulations on his quick thinking, and hurried to get their group out of the shop.

Connor saw an odd old witch looking at him strangely, and he wondered if she had heard him warn his uncle of the danger. He dismissed it when the woman looked away, and he followed his friends out onto the street.

"Are you all right, Uncle George?" Victoria asked him as they stepped out of the flow of foot traffic and stopped.

"Just a bit sore," George said with a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"That was quick thinking," Ginny said. "You probably saved that little girl's life."

"It was Connor that did that," George said dismissively. "I'm just glad that I was there to help. Where are we off to next?"

It was clear to Connor that his uncle was trying to take the focus off of the incident. Ginny obliged them by saying that all of the kids had grown and needed longer robes this term, so they may as well head over to Madam Malkin's.

All the kids were measured for new robes, but Victoria also disappeared into the racks of dress robes, and came back holding a set of robes in soft, shimmering gold. "For the Yule Ball," she announced. "They're holding one this year just before the Christmas holidays, and I'm old enough to attend."

"Better you than us," Connor said, wrinkling his nose.

The Yule Ball was held at Hogwarts once every three years, and was open to fourth year students and above, unless an older student invited you. Connor was relieved that the next Ball would not be held until he was in sixth year; he didn't fancy having to ask a girl out any time soon.

"I don't know, Con," Zack said with a half smile. "There are an awful lot of fourth year girls who giggle every time they see you."

"That's because he's so funny looking," George said, ruffling his nephew's hair.

From Madam Malkin's they went to The Raven's Wing to buy parchment and quills and all of the other required supplies that the kids would to need to complete their assignments, and then the last stop was the apothecary for basic potion ingredients.

Once they were done there, the kids all begged to be free to go off on their own for while.

"I don't know," Ginny teased, looking indecisive. "What do you think George?"

"Please Uncle George!" Connor and Victoria begged playfully, while the others looked on eagerly.

"I don't see why not," George conceded, looking amused.

"All right, kids," Ginny said, handing Connor a small sack of coins from her pocket. "You've got an hour until you need to be at the Leaky Cauldron. Don't make us come looking for you."

With a whoop, they took off, and Connor grinned at them all. "Where should we go first?"

"I need to go to the pet shop to buy some owl treats for Godric," Zack said. "Why don't we get that out of the way first?"

"Thanks, guys, but I see some of my friends, so I'll see you in an hour," Victoria said, waving to a couple of witches. She went to join her friends, leaving Connor and other to their own devices.

"The Magical Menagerie is just down this way," Ivy said. "They'll have your owl treats."

Agreed, they entered the noisy shop, which was slightly crowded with students lucky enough to be getting a new owl of their own. Owls were fairly expensive, so most of the students tended to use the school owls for post. Most families kept an owl as well, for everyday matters, though there were also Owl Post Offices in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and a few other places around Britain.

Zack studied the different types of treats while Rachel and Ivy cooed over a litter of Kneazle kittens that were just barely old enough to go to new homes.

"My mum used to have an enormous Kneazle before I was born," Rachel said, scratching a fluffy grey one under the chin. "After he died, Dad said that she couldn't bear to have another one around, because it just couldn't replace Crookshanks."

"Don't you have any pets at your house?" Ivy asked.

"Just the owls that Dad keeps for business," Rachel shrugged. "Prue wanted a Puffskein, but after the one that Uncle George gave Adam last Christmas, they won't let her."

"Can you blame them?" Connor asked with a revolted look on his face. "I swear Snowball is going to end up just swallowing Adam whole in the middle of the night."

"I wonder if my father would mind if I brought home a pup," Quentin said, chuckling as a Krup puppy grabbed a hold of his sleeve and began to tug. "I wouldn't be able to keep it at Hogwarts, so I suppose not."

Connor wandered up and down the isles of the store and admired the different types of animals as he waited for Zack. He was just watching a tank full of multi-coloured Streelers oozing about their enclosure, when he felt someone grab his arm.

"Here now." It was the witch that Connor had noticed looking at him in Flourish and Blotts. "Aren't you Harry Potter's son?"

"Er," Connor said, taken aback. "Yes. I mean, I am."

"Thought so," she nodded, still holding onto his arm. "I wonder if you could help me."

Connor eyed her warily. "What kind of help?"

"There's this tournament coming up, you see. The Gobstones Championship match!" she said excitedly. "I'm prepared to offer you fifty Galleons for a little hint as to who might take all at the end of it."

Fifty Galleons? Connor thought to himself, amazed. For Gobstones? That was a lot of money, but Connor didn't really need to think about it. "I'm sorry," he said, pulling his arm out of her grasp. "I can't help you."

"A hundred Galleons, then!" she said, gripping his arm once more.

Connor was surprised. This woman looked to be close to a hundred years old, but had a very firm grip and a steely glint in her eye. He was sorely tempted to take the money and make up an answer, just to teach her a lesson, but knew that he couldn't. If his mother found out, there would be the devil to pay, and if by some strange chance he guessed the winner correctly, he'd have a whole other problem to worry about : people just like this woman would constantly hound him.

"Look, I can't help you," Connor said firmly. He couldn't bring himself to be very harsh with the woman; his parents had ingrained respect for his elders in him too strongly for that. "It doesn't work that way. I can't just ask my mind to supply me with answers about the future. It just comes to me or it doesn't, but I can't make it." He tried to sound apologetic.

The old woman stared hard at him for a moment, and then said something that sounded like, "Bah! Little brat!" Then she turned and left him standing there alone.

"Hey," Zack's voice sounded over his shoulder. Connor turned and saw that he had a small bag in hand, bearing the shop's label. "A hundred Galleons, huh?"

"Yeah," Connor sighed.

"You should have just taken it. That would have shown her," Zack said.

"I almost did," Connor said, not liking to admit how strong the urge had been. "But if I had guessed right...." He let the rest of his sentence hang, knowing that Zack would understand.

"Lets get out of here," Zack said. "We've only got about forty-five minutes left, and I want to get to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes before we have to meet everyone."

They met the others in front of the pet shop and walked through the crowds to Fred and George's shop. It was busy inside, with lots of kids stocking up on joke items before the school year began, and parents who stood indulgently rolling their eyes or looking disapproving at their kids' purchases. There were three people behind the counter, ringing up merchandise and taking coins. Connor also spotted his grandmother Molly helping customers find what they were looking for.

Connor grinned when she waved to him, and so did his friends, before slipping off to fill their shopping baskets.

It didn't take long for Connor to notice his father, standing against the wall, surrounded by bags and parcels of every shape and size, looking mildly annoyed. Looking around, he spotted Maggie, Patrick and Rupert shopping as well, though why Patrick would need to shop here when his father was one of the owners was beyond him. Charlie was standing very close to Rupert and was whispering something in his ear that the boy apparently didn't like, because he was scowling deeply.

"Hey, Dad!" Connor went to stand beside his father. "Did you finish getting everyone's stuff already?"

"Pretty much," his dad answered. "How about you?"

"Yep," Connor said. "Just the good stuff left to buy now."

"Oh?" Harry arched his eyebrow at his son in query.

"Sweets," Connor said happily.

"Aren't you going to stock up here, too?" Harry asked.

"I'm still pretty well stocked," Connor confided. "Plus I get Hogsmeade visits this year, so I can always hit Zonko's if I need anything. Still, it couldn't hurt to look around."

His uncles had bought Zonko's joke shop in Hogsmeade about ten years before, when old man Zonko was ready to retire. They still carried all of the same merchandise that old Mr Zonko had always stocked, with a few of their own best-selling items thrown in as well. They had never changed the name of the Hogsmeade shop - a tribute to the man whose goods had aided them in their pranks so often in their youth.

Connor strolled around, looking in his friend's baskets out of curiosity, and then approached Rupert, who was carrying a very full and heavy-looking basket. It was filled with some of the most dangerous items Weasley's Wizard Wheezes offered, and Connor couldn't help but think that if Rupert weren't careful, he would be making a few enemies this year with malicious pranks.

Moving toward the back of the shop, Connor spied Maggie again, this time talking to Rachel in what appeared to be a very serious conversation. Maggie was red in the face, and he became concerned enough to try to find out what was wrong.

"Hey, Maggie-May," Connor greeted her with his favourite nickname. "You look upset."

"It's Rupert," Rachel said, immediately drawing him in to their discussion.

"What a vile little worm!" Maggie fumed.

Connor was not really surprised that Maggie had not taken a liking to the other boy. Maggie had always been quick to indignation if the situation warranted it, and Rupert wasn't about to win any prizes for congeniality. "What has he said now?" Connor asked.

"Oh, what he's said isn't the worst of it!" Maggie hissed. "I've never met such a rude, unfeeling slob! He's been pushing people out of the way all morning and demanding that Uncle Harry buy him 'only the best'. He practically threw a tantrum when he wasn't allowed silk school robes! Silk! Can you imagine? He even punched Patrick when Daddy and Uncle Harry had their backs turned, and kept knocking into him on purpose and then saying, 'Oh, sorry' in that snotty little voice of his."

"I can't believe that my dad, or yours, would let him get away with that!" Connor objected.

"Well, it took them a while, because the little toe rag was sneaky about it," Maggie said, "but my dad finally caught him at it and took him outside for a little talk."

"Did that help?" Rachel asked, looking concerned.

"A bit," Maggie admitted. "And then Patrick reminded the little worm that he would have a wand soon, and there wouldn't be anyone's parents around to cry to when he came to pay him back."

Connor grinned.

"And then!" Maggie started off again. "Then Uncle Harry caught the little sneak stealing!"

This was too much.

"What did he steal?" Rachel and Connor asked at the same time.

"What didn't he try to steal?" Maggie said with disdain. "Every time one of us turned around, we'd catch him slipping stuff into his pockets under the cloak! At Madam Malkin's it was some cufflinks, at Flourish and Blotts it was a pocket diary, at the apothecary it was a box of dried newts... it just went on and on! It got so bad that Dad or Uncle Harry were actually searching him for stolen stuff after each stop, until Patrick came up with the idea of just sealing his pockets closed with a charm."

"He didn't look too happy when I saw him just now," Connor said. "If any kid was going to steal anything, this would probably be the most tempting shop to try it in."

Once his friends had finished at the joke shop, they hurried to the sweet shop a few doors down from the Leaky Cauldron, and left it a few Galleons poorer, but much happier.

Lunch was a noisy affair, and they were given a long table in a private dining room, as it was the only way to accommodate all eighteen of them. Connor wasn't at all surprised to see that Maggie and Patrick chose seats as far away from Rupert as possible. Connor chose a seat next to Rupert, not wanting to make any of his friends have to endure him through the meal. His parents were sitting across from him, and his mother winked at him as a signal that his kindness had not gone unnoticed. Rupert was still scowling deeply, but Connor ignored it as best he could while they placed their orders.

Everyone else seemed happy enough. Patrick was happily showing off his new wand to his father and cousins, and talking to them excitedly about all of his other purchases. Victoria was telling Charlie about the falling books and the little girl from earlier. Fred's son, Jarod, and Quentin were talking about the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts that would need to be held to keep the first and reserve teams full. Connor didn't even realize he had been scratching quite busily at his hands until his mother reached across the table to grab his left wrist and examined his now-red skin.

"They're still bothering you?" she asked, frowning at the welts he had raised with his fingernails.

"I guess," Connor shrugged. "They kind of itch all the time."

By now Harry was frowning too, and leaned over to look at his hands as well. "Is it just the tops of your hands?"

"Not really," Connor said, feeling embarrassed to have his mum and dad make such a fuss. "Just pretty much all over. That cream Mum put on them the other night helped, though."

"Let's put some more on tonight," Ginny said, releasing his arm. "I don't see anything wrong with them, so it might be just an allergy like you said. If they keep itching when you get to school, go and see Madam Cosgrove."

Connor nodded, and changed the subject by turning to Rupert, who was a little left out, being on the end of the table.

"How do you like Diagon Alley, Rupert?" he asked. He felt that this would be a safe subject; since he had liked enough of the things he saw to try to steal them. Connor didn't mention that fact though.

"It's pretty interesting," Rupert conceded. "I might have liked it better if I had been allowed to have a say in how your father spent my money."

Connor blinked. "Pardon?"

"Your father kept buying me second rate equipment everywhere we went," Rupert said scathingly.

Connor glanced at his father, who seemed to be grinding his teeth.

"I saw how everyone was treating him everywhere we went; asking for autographs and all. They would have just given him anything he asked for, but he just shook his head and said that it wasn't necessary. Not Necessary! He could have saved me a load of money! Then he made me get a pewter cauldron, when I clearly said that I wanted at silver one," Rupert continued.

"Your list says pewter," Harry said as calmly as he could. "A silver cauldron is only used in advanced...."

"He wouldn't buy me silk robes, and forced me to take what everyone else was getting," Rupert voiced his complaints right over top of Harry's voice. "And he wouldn't let me buy the one extra book I really wanted at the book shop."

"That book was far too advanced for a first year. Most seventh year students would not have been able to...." Harry began only to be interrupted again.

"And he wouldn't let me buy an owl!" Rupert said triumphantly.

"Oi!" Connor swivelled his head to see that it had been Uncle Fred who had spoken. He looked angry, which was an odd expression on his usually cheerful face. "I don't care who you are or who you think you are, but around here, you don't interrupt an adult who is speaking to you."

Rupert stared at Fred open-mouthed, then over to Charlie. Connor wondered if Fred's tone was reminiscent of the one Charlie had used in his 'talk' earlier.

When Rupert didn't respond right away, Fred prompted, "This is the part where you apologize for being rude to the Harry."

"I beg your pardon," Rupert ground out through gritted teeth, face red. "I was only trying to point out that it is my money that is being spent, and I should not have to listen to anyone telling me how to spend it as long as I get the stuff on my list."

"Rupert," Connor said quietly. "Silk robes are very expensive. It would probably have used up most of your school money to buy them."

"And we bought you one set of silk robes for those times when your school robes are not appropriate," Harry pointed out. "Though wool would have been more practical for the climate."

"What about that book?" Rupert persisted, not willing to let the subject drop.

"The book you wanted cost nearly fifteen galleons, and had an age restriction on it, so that anyone under the age of seventeen would need express adult permission to purchase it. Some of the spells in that book could have caused serious damage if done incorrectly. You may be ready for a book like that in few years, but not now."

"And the owl?" Rupert insisted on maintaining his petulant air. "I think that if my father knew how I was being treated, and how you were spending my money, he'd be furious."

"First of all," Harry said in a dangerously pleasant voice. He was now leaning across the table toward Rupert with a serious expression. "Your father hates owls. He tried to poison my owl twice while I lived with your grandparents, and was constantly trying to injure her. How do you think he would react if I let you buy one, and you took it home over the holidays? I told you that if you wrote to your father and he gave his permission, I would get you an owl."

Rupert was very red in the face by now. "My father would never try to kill my owl, or anyone else's."

"If that's what you believe, then write to him for permission," Harry said. "As for the way you think we've been treating you, feel free to write and tell him about that, too. Ginny and I have taken you into our home and done our best to answer any questions you've had, and we have done what we can to make you feel welcome. In return, you have been by turns rude, mean-spirited, tactless and ill-tempered. If you write to tell your father how unhappy you are, I can tell you right now that he'll be delighted. He was counting on the fact that you would spend a few days with us and then beg to go home. He absolutely believes that you'll quit, and come home and attend Smeltings like they had planned all along. That's what he wants. He wants to be able to say, 'I told you so.' So you need to think long and hard in the next few days whether or not you feel you can make it in the magical world, because, frankly, I have my doubts. You've done very little but complain about how everything displeases you in some way, and if that's the way you really feel, you're going to be very unhappy in our world."

Connor was somewhat dazed by this speech from his father. Harry had not raised his voice even once, but it could not have been clearer that Rupert had heard every word that was said to him. So had everyone else at the table. Those who were not gaping like fish at the stern words from the normally jovial, even-tempered Harry Potter were looking on in approval - they all privately agreed that it was time Rupert was taken down a peg or two. Connor looked to his Mum, and saw that she looked slightly troubled, but he couldn't be sure if it was because of what his Dad had just said, or because Rupert looked very much as though he might cry.

Just then, the doors to their dining room flew open, and their food arrived, making a welcome break in the tension. Connor watched out of the corner of his eye as Rupert rubbed his sleeve across his eyes, and then stared at his plate, unseeingly. The others did their best to enjoy the meal as if the scene with Rupert had not taken place, and soon they were leaving in small family groups to return to their homes.

"Did everyone get their shopping done?" Ginny asked brusquely as they stood from the table and gathered the many parcels that they had set against the far wall. "Any other stops to make before we go home?"

No one could think of anything they had forgotten, and so they returned to Potter Headquarters.

Rupert stumbled out of the Floo; just as black as when he had arrived at Diagon Alley, but made no comment about it. He simply said, "I'd like to wash up and rest now." He walked away, and Connor could hear him climbing the stairs, and a door closing from above.

Connor wondered if Rupert would really quit and go live out his life as a Muggle, or if he would stay and try to be what he was born to be.