Soul Weaver

“As always, you are never late.”

“No, my lord. I did as you asked.”

“What news, what did you see?”

“I believe he used a Portkey, my lord.”

“Where did the boy go?”

“I do not know, my lord. I merely saw him disappear … none were with him.”

“I have been told he argued with the blood-traitor Weasleys. I am led to believe that they have split with him.”

“Can this be true, my lord? I hastened to do as you asked, but this seems unlikely even though I did see him leave.”

“The news was from a trusted follower; I do not question it in the retelling.”

“My lord, perhaps they sent him away for safety? He might have bought the Portkey from the Ministry.”

“No, I would know. I still have valuable spies in the Ministry. You are right - something else is at play. The argument is a ruse.”

“It is conceivable he purchased a Portkey whilst in France, my lord.”

“Perhaps.”

“My lord, it seems unusual for them to go to these lengths … why not just hide him if that is the purpose?”

“The courageous spirit of the Gryffindor would not allow him to hide for long. Do you not agree, Severus?”

“He is the model of an obnoxious Gryffindor … I can attest to that fact first hand, my lord.”

“Then there is a purpose to this apparent trickery of hiding. Find out what it is.”

“I will do my best, my lord. It is not as easy as it once was to move about in our world. I have become the target of many a reckless young Auror.”

“You have been seen?”

“No … I am careful, my lord.”

“The boy being gone is of no matter for the present; eventually he will return.”

“So we wait?”

“Yes. When he returns, I want him alive and whole, I wish to finish him. The one who brings him to me unharmed will be rewarded … oh yes … I will not wait for long, my followers serve me well, but we need more … soon all will bow before me as they should have many years ago. You will be first among my servants; none will ridicule you again if you serve me well, Severus.”

“I have tried to serve you, my lord … as best I can.”

“I remember when you were first brought before me by Lucius Malfoy. You were afraid. Are you still afraid, Severus?”

“I am never your equal, master … I know I have failed you in the past … “

“Yes - you like all the rest, but you have been a useful servant … far more than any other. Remain loyal to me and I will reward you beyond anything you could ever want. See that the boy is brought to me and you will serve me as if you were my right hand - that place was reserved for another, but he has failed me too many times … you will take his place, Severus Snape.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Remember - whatever you want, you will have it, if you can bring the boy to me.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“There is something else, Severus. Wormtail tells me that you suffer nightmares. Does he lie?”

“He … no, he does not lie.”

“Tell me, Severus … do you regret the choice you have made? To remove Dumbledore from my path was a great deed. None of my servants have even attempted something so bold. The Malfoy boy failed, but you, my servant, you have succeeded. I would expect you to ask for some favor, others would.”

“I did not believe I deserved anything for it. We did not truly fulfill the deed in the manner you wished it, my lord.”

“You are correct. The Malfoy boy has proved a failure at the moment, but you plead his case convincingly. It is true that his partial completion of the mission succeeded. You finishing it was only a technicality.”

“If I had not acted … if I had stood by and let the others do the deed … I know what they say about me … I know the whispers they murmur behind my back.”

“Yes, Severus. They do speak of you. They still do, I will tell you that much.”

“Master, if I had not completed the mission for Draco, if I had stood back and done nothing to help him, it would only have provided them more reasons to doubt me, more reasons to lie about me. How could I prove myself to you if I had not acted? My lord … you must know … I had no choice.”

“You risked my displeasure in the act, but I am satisfied that Dumbledore is finished. Do not think I am not pleased with what you accomplished. Certainly Draco would have never succeeded without you. It only seems logical that it would take many of you together to bring the old fool down.”

“Yes, he was outnumbered and alone, my lord.”

“I am sure it must please you at least a little, Severus. To revenge yourself finally on those who thought nothing of you. None respected you; I alone have helped you. They never wanted you … you came to me and I was the one who saw what you were beneath your decrepit shell. I have taught you much, I believe you still have much to learn.”

“I will learn whatever you wish me to, Master.”

“Then forget them all; dreams only tempt you to stray. What did the others ever do for you? Have they given you anything worthy of what you have learned from me? Do you think for one moment that love has helped you? That useless emotion Albus Dumbledore claimed to be so powerful. Has it helped you in anyway? No … they will not show you love, not now. They will kill you if they can … Potter will want revenge. I can sense it seeping in through the wall I have placed between his mind and mine.”

“My lord, you are right. They are only dreams. I am sure Pettigrew neglected to tell you of his own night terrors.”

“He is a coward … still … he has been useful. He only serves me out of fear. You on the other hand … you have never served me out of fear. Oh yes, you were afraid when you first came to me, but it was not fear that has kept you here. Revenge, yes … I know you, Severus. I can see it in your eyes every time you are here in my presence.”

“It is all I have, my lord. I have learned to defeat the other emotions as you have taught me.”

“If revenge is what you want then I will give it to you. If that is the desire you have, you shall have it. Now, when you have news of Potter, send me your Patronus. It is a useful trick; I would thank the old fool for teaching it to you, but he is dead now. The only regret I shall have is that I will not see his face when Hogwarts is mine.”

“My lord, there are portraits of former Headmasters … I believe one of Dumbledore was commissioned a few years ago. I am sure it now hangs in the Headmaster’s office.”

“Ah yes, I had forgotten. Very well, Severus, I will summon you again when I have need of you. Potter may be hiding, perhaps somewhere far away, but his Gryffindor arrogance and hunger for revenge will draw him out soon. You may leave me now, but remember - you will send any news to me as soon as you hear it.”

“Yes, my lord … whatever you wish.”



“Can we go back to the festival now?” Orion asked as they left Mr. Patterson’s office.

Harry had obtained his pass successfully. It was not anything extraordinary, simply a card about the size of a Muggle credit card. It had his photograph in one corner, the name Emil Fairstone on it, the word ‘Visitor’ in large letters at the top, the current date and a date two weeks later.

“You can keep the pass in a pocket. Sorry I could only manage two weeks, but I didn’t want to push Mr. Patterson too much,” Celeste said as they left.

“I wouldn’t want you to actually have to go out with him for my sake,” Harry replied cheerfully. She simply snorted with humor at the comment.

Harry was feeling like he had accomplished something. Two weeks felt like a long time and he was not sure he had planned on staying that long. Still if he was to get lessons from Celeste then would two weeks be enough? Especially if she did not return to England.

“Mommy … can we please go back to the festival now?” Orion asked again, staring up at them hopefully.

“Well, I suppose … are you feeling up to a carnival? I know you’ve just gotten here and have traveled a long way,” she asked, studying Harry’s face.

“Of course. I’m not all that tired and I’ve never been to one. I’d actually like to go back,” Harry replied.

“Yay!” Orion cheered and bounced excitedly beside his mother as they walked along. “Harry, you can -”

“Orion!” Celeste cut in sharply. “We have to call Harry ‘Emil’ … remember?” she charged forcefully. Orion blushed brightly and had an expression that suggested he realized he had made a mistake.

“I’m sorry … I will remember now,” he answered. “Emil can ride with me on the rides, right?” he insisted and stared at Harry. The child seemed to be expecting an answer. “Emil would ride with me if I asked him to,” he added firmly.

“I suppose I could, yeah,” Harry answered. Celeste grinned and patted Orion on the head as they walked along.

“He will wear you out, so don’t let him run over you,” Celeste charged as she gave Orion a very stern expression. “I want you to be nice and a gentleman, little man … you hear?”

“I am a gentleman, Mommy, but I want to have fun and it only comes here once a year. That’s a long time to wait for fun,” Orion proclaimed forcefully.

“You make it sound like we don’t do anything fun all year, son,” Celeste teased.

“I mean the carnival, Mommy … we do fun stuff other times too,” he replied cautiously but then grinned sheepishly up at Harry. “If you don’t got no money, you can use some of mine,” he offered.

“Erm … I forgot, I only have British money, I don’t have any American,” Harry admitted.

“It’s alright, you can borrow and just pay me back. Besides, Galleons go a lot farther than American dollars,” Celeste informed.

“So, you don’t have a separate wizard money from Muggle money?” Harry asked. Before Celeste could speak Orion got a stunned expression on his face.

“Awwwwww, you said a bad word! You’re gonna get in trouble, you’re not supposed to say that word,” Orion proclaimed in a tone that suggested Harry had said something heinous.

“What?” Harry questioned, quite unsure about what he might have said wrong.

“There is something you should know,” Celeste began. “The M word is considered a degrading word and is somewhat taboo around here. I should have explained it to you earlier, but I didn’t think about it till you just said it,” she went on, giving Orion a shake of the head. “Orion, he’s from England. He doesn’t know it’s considered a bad word over here,” she said to Orion.

“So … if I said it, people here would consider it an insult?” Harry asked with apprehension.

“Yes. We say non-magical. Not that some people don’t say the word, but it’s usually used as an insult,” she finished.

“Grandpa said it one time when he was working. I heard him say it to the hammer,” Orion informed somberly.

“Really?” Celeste replied, a wicked glitter sparkling in her eye. “You didn’t tell Mommy about that.”

“He didn’t know I heard him say it,” Orion answered with a playful grin.

“I didn’t realize. I’ll try to remember not to say it,” Harry said, feeling it might be difficult to remember not to say ‘Muggle’. Though it would probably be just as difficult for Orion to remember to call him Emil, so Harry felt they were in a similar situation.

“Let’s go on to the festival then, it’s more fun later in the day anyway … and especially at night when all the lights are on,” Celeste said cheerfully as they continued on down to the area they had left earlier. Harry could not help but feel excited about the new experience and the luxury of simply getting to do something fun that did not involve war.



Many hours later, Harry found himself walking back with Celeste to her grandmother’s house. In her arms she carried Orion, who seemed to have finally used up all his excess energy. His young face was snuggled against his mother’s shoulder as they walked along.

It was already dark and they had stayed long enough to see the lights and experience the festival at night. During the night members of the carnival dressed up in many elaborate costumes that both enchanted and scared the event-goers.

Harry had laughed so hard at one point, he thought he would never stop. One of the people who was dressed up as some sort of monster had jumped out and pretended to want to grab at Celeste.

Orion had been scared at first until he figured out it was not a real monster. He had set to kicking and chasing off the beast with a humorous display of fierce determination. Celeste had to eventually corner her son and pick him up to stop him from becoming worked up over the issue after the carnival man had gone off to harass more people.

Harry had ridden many of the rides with Orion, and some of them twice, even three times. Celeste had been right about her son: he possessed more energy than such a little thing should require. Even though the child could be demanding, Harry still had to admit he had more fun than he expected.

The food had been fabulous. He had all sorts of treats to sample, it was almost as much fun as the sweet shop at Hogsmeade. His favorite was the enchanted cotton candy. Not only was it delicious, it changed shape and flavor as you ate it.

The most unusual thing he had sampled was called Imagine Bubbles, which was a lot like chewing gum. However when you blew a bubble and it popped, whatever think you were imagining at the time would form in a waft of colorful smoke.

Celeste seemed the best at the Imagine Bubbles. She explained that she had had many years of practice because it had been her favorite thing at the festival since her childhood. Orion was fair: his images were very fuzzy and did not last long, but Harry could make out that one was a running horse. Once Harry had gotten the hang of it, he made a very impressive dragon; he was sure it was due to his good recollection of the one he had battled in his fourth year at Hogwarts.

They had also stopped for a while to watch a couple of the shows. One was for children, but Harry even enjoyed it and found it quite funny to watch the little puppets dance around and talk to the kids.

“I had fun, thanks for inviting me,” Harry said as they walked along. The streets were quiet except for the sound of other people heading home. Harry noticed there were no cars in Westbrook. Families seemed to travel by carriages from what he had noticed. Every once in a while a carriage would pass and people would call out ‘hello’ or ‘hi’ as they passed.

Celeste called out a greeting or gave a wave to the passers-by. Orion gave a mumbled sound as he turned his face into her neck when he seemed to grow tired of the noise.

A few moments of silence passed as they walked along. It was interrupted by the sound of a carriage moving faster than any of the others Harry had heard. The swift clop, clop, clop of hooves striking the street forcefully announced the carriage’s approach in their direction.

Harry glanced back, but in the dim light of the street lamps it only became apparent that the carriage was different from the others once it was near at hand. It was a closed-in carriage and quite impressive in its size and outward appearance. A moment later it passed by, but then it veered to the right to stop directly in front of them, blocking their route down the street.

The horses made a sharp whinny and tossed their heads as the carriage shook to a stop. The door to the carriage flew open but no one exited. Nobody moved and the silence drew out and became awkward.

Because it was dark, Harry could not see who was inside. He became worried as the imposing carriage sat there with its door open as if waiting expectantly for them to approach.

“Get in,” a forceful male voice called from the inside of the carriage. It was a very deep voice and equally as imposing as the carriage. Harry glanced over at Celeste to see what her reaction might be. Celeste’s expression seemed to shift between nervousness and annoyance.

Perhaps it was now habit or that he was used to being attacked by Dark wizards, but Harry slipped his hand into his pocket to close over his wand.

“Are you going to get in or do I have to get out?” the voice asked impatiently.

“Is there a problem?” Harry whispered to Celeste. She glanced over at him and shook her head. He was not sure how to take the headshake, whether it meant not to say anything or that there was no problem. It certainly seemed like a problem to him.

Celeste walked forward to the carriage door. Harry followed, fearing that the presence inside was quite unfriendly and something he did not want to meet. Once Celeste was at the door, two very large hands appeared; they were held out as if expecting something from her.

“Give him here,” the voice intoned impatiently. Celeste seemed to reluctantly shift her son into the arms that were outstretched. The boy made a mumbled protest as he was lifted inside the carriage. Still Harry did not get a good look at who was inside because of how Celeste stood at the doorway. He was relegated to stand just beside the back wheel.

“Who is that?” Harry asked Celeste quietly; or at least he thought he had been quiet enough.

“Who am I?” the voice inside the carriage said gruffly. “I’d like to ask the same question of you,” it added stiffly.

“Don’t be mad,” Orion’s voice said, sounding as if he had just woken up. “Look. He won me a green dragon from the festival,” Harry heard Orion say proudly.

Harry had almost forgot about the little stuffed toy. He had tried out a few games: one of them was played by shooting spells at a target to get a little wooden dragon to race other dragons. His dragon reached the finish line first and he had won the little toy.

Orion had seemed thoroughly excited and had cheered Harry’s dragon to victory; Harry decided to give the toy to Orion. The boy enthusiastically thanked him and took it. After that, Orion acted quite proud of Harry and the toy, expressing to the other children that his cousin had won it for him. He had pointed at Harry and told anyone that listened that Harry was Emil and he had given him, Orion, the prize.

“It’s alright,” Celeste said, turning to him with a reassuring smile. “Come on, no need to pass up a free ride,” she stated as she climbed up into the carriage and sat across from whoever was in the carriage. She motioned for him to come forward. Harry cautiously moved to the entrance and peeked around the corner until the person came into view.

Harry found himself staring up into the face of a very big man. Not a big man in terms of being fat, but a big man in terms of someone Harry was sure could physically break him in half and fold him over twice.

“That’s not Emil,” the man uttered sharply and turned his attention to Celeste for a moment and then turning back to stare at Harry. “Get in,” he ordered gruffly to Harry.

“Come on Harry, it’s alright,” Celeste said gently. “This is my father, John Fairstone,” she introduced.

Once she said it, the resemblance became quite apparent. Her father had the same color hair and, even though the dim lighting inside the carriage forced their faces into shadows, Harry could still make out that they had the same nose and mouth.

“Harry? Who is this boy? What’s going on?” John Fairstone complained as Harry climbed up into the carriage. He settled himself on the other side of Celeste while Mr. Fairstone leaned forward and yanked the door closed. He tapped the top of the carriage and it shivered and moved backwards before gently surging forward. Celeste seemed ready to speak, but her father overrode her.

“Explain to me why Mr. Patterson arrived at my office a few hours ago, telling me about my nephew being in town and I, looking like a fool, had no idea what he was talking about,” John Fairstone complained in a sharp tone as he stared at Celeste. “Also explain why that man thinks he is getting a special invitation to dinner at my house,” he added.

“Grandpa, that’s Harry Potter. You read about him in the newspaper,” Orion proclaimed before Celeste had a chance to speak. “Mommy was going to tell you all about him, but we went to the festival first … and I won a prize this morning and then Harry won me this prize,” Orion explained holding out the dragon to his grandfather. “And Mommy had to get Harry a pass so he could stay, so we are going to pretend he is Emil cause nobody has seen Emil and we don’t want the bad wizard to know Harry is here visiting us.”

Harry simply stared at Orion as if he had sprouted another head. Celeste remained silent and seemed to be willing to let her son explain the situation. Her father listened to Orion, but, the whole time he was speaking, Mr. Fairstone stared at his daughter with what Harry would call controlled anger. Mr. Fairstone appeared to want to yell or complain, but Harry figured the man was taking into consideration that Orion was in the carriage and that Harry was there as well.

“So my daughter has now become adept at breaking the rules that she has been brought up to respect?” Mr. Fairstone asked in a very controlled voice.

“Please do not scold me like I am five years old. You and I can talk about this later,” Celeste said coolly and looked away from her father to stare out the small side window. “I don’t think I have to justify my actions in this situation,” she added unhappily.

“What’s that supposed to mean, you don’t have to -”

“Excuse me, sir,” Harry interrupted, which drew both Celeste and Mr. Fairstone’s attention to him. “I was asked to come here by Albus Dumbledore to set things right for him. It was his last request that I bring a message to your daughter. If you want to be angry, you can be angry with me because I am the one who asked for her help,” Harry said boldly. He was not sure where the courage to speak to this man in this manner came from, but he could not sit back and let Celeste take all the blame for what was happening.

Mr. Fairstone narrowed his eyes and studied Harry as if he were an annoying fly buzzing in the carriage.

“Grandpa, don’t we supposed to help people stay away from bad wizards? That bad man over there in England does real bad stuff … don’t we supposed to help Harry cause he is good and not bad?” Orion asked.

Harry could not explain it, but Mr. Fairstone’s expression seemed to be caught between wanting to be angry and wanting to soften because of his grandson’s words.

“Orion, Mommy and Grandpa are going to talk about this,” Celeste said softly. Her father did not seem to want to wait though.

“So I’m to invite Mr. Patterson over for his willingness to do something for you? Is that the trade-off here?” he asked boldly.

“He asked me out on a date. Did he tell you that?” she replied smoothly.

“So the alternative is dinner at my home, is it?” her father countered with another question.

“Would you rather I accepted his invitation? You know he adores you and the house. I guess he left his office directly to go butter you up,” Celeste suggested.

“I don’t want Mommy to go with that Mr. Patterson. He don’t like me, Grandpa,” Orion proclaimed forcefully.

Harry sat mutely, feeling caught in the middle of another family drama that was being played out. He had the notion that Celeste and her father did not get along.

“Mr. Patterson is a good upstanding member of our community and on the Westbrook Council with me. He would never go out of his way to break Westbrook rules. I’m sure he trusted you, Celeste, and never imagined you’d use his friendship to squirm your way into a poorly thought out situation,” he announced sharply.

Celeste made no reply to her father and the carriage became silent. The only sound was the muted clop, clop, clop of the horses’ hooves as they moved along.

“Don’t be mad, Grandpa,” Orion pleaded. “Don’t you want Harry to visit us? He’s famous and I’ve never met nobody from the newspaper before.”

“Being in the newspaper isn’t as great as you think,” Harry countered, hoping Mr. Fairstone would not think he was some sort of glory hound or he had used his so-called fame to get into Westbrook.

“He’s here now, isn’t he?” Mr. Fairstone stated, ignoring Harry for the present. “If this goes badly, it will reflect on the whole family. Your mother seems to have dragged me right along into it without even so much as consulting me,” he surmised, speaking as if Celeste were no longer in the carriage. “She must want my help, but is too proud or stubborn to ask,” he added forcefully.

Harry was sitting beside Celeste so he heard her make a sharp intake of breath and watched as her eyes narrowed and she stared at her father with dislike. Harry was sure she was getting ready to reply to his statement, but the carriage jerking to a stop caught everyone off guard.

“Orion, Harry, please go ahead into the house and let Granny know we are back, while I talk to my father alone,” Celeste said softly as she leaned forward and opened the door.

“Grandpa, can’t I stay and -”

“Orion,” Celeste interrupted forcefully. “Please do as I ask you. Go let Granny know we are back. Harry, please make sure Orion gets in the house and don’t let him wander off,” Celeste said and turned to Harry in a manner that expected he would do as she asked.

“Alright,” Harry said as he stood and climbed out of the carriage. He turned and stared up at Mr. Fairstone. “I would like you to know I didn’t come here to cause trouble in your town or impose on your family,” he offered.

Mr. Fairstone stared at him a moment but made no reply. Orion was squirming down from the seat and coming towards the door.

“Bye, Grandpa,” Orion said in a hopeful tone and carefully climbed out of the carriage and stood beside Harry as the door to the carriage closed. It moved off a moment later and headed down the street.

“Grandpa is mad at Mommy,” Orion stated as he looked up at Harry. “Sometimes they argue and yell a lot. That’s why me and Mommy live with Granny,” he added as he considered Harry in the dim light of street lamp.

Harry stared down at the little boy, feeling sympathy for him. The little green dragon was squashed under one arm and Harry felt Orion’s other hand slip into his.

Harry was startled and wondered what had moved the little boy to take his hand. It was a bit awkward to be standing out here in the dark holding the child’s hand, a child he barely knew.

“Mommy says I have to hold hands with a big person when I go cross the road,” Orion informed.

“Oh … yeah, right, of course,” Harry replied, realizing that they actually had to cross the street to get to Granny’s house. He did not feel quite as awkward as he had a moment ago. “Well, I suppose we should go,” Harry said and stepped forward, but Orion held him back. Harry looked down at him, wondering why he stopped.

“Mommy says you have to look both ways before you go cross,” Orion insisted and was grinning up at Harry.

“Yeah, I forgot,” Harry said and glanced to the right and then to the left. “I don’t see anything, how about you?” Harry asked in a playful tone. The little boy looked and shook his head, still grinning at Harry.

“I don’t see nothing,” Orion proclaimed.

Harry nodded and they set off across the street. Once on the other side and at the entrance to the grand house, Orion let Harry’s hand go and ran forward to the front door. The boy had already flung the door open and was inside as Harry was making his way up the steps of the porch.

Harry heard Orion call out loudly, “We’re home, Granny,” as he scurried through the house. Harry moved inside, closing the door behind him. Orion had already found Granny and was imparting the details of the day to her as Harry entered the kitchen. She must have cooked because Harry could smell the delightful aroma of food wafting around the kitchen.

Orion seemed quite adept at reciting the day’s events to Granny, though his use of words or lack of them was somewhat jumbled. As he listened, Harry wondered idly how Granny could keep up with the hasty and exuberant retelling.

“So, you’ve met my son?” Granny asked Harry, once Orion arrived at the part where they had been picked up in the carriage by Celeste’s father.

“Yes,” Harry answered as he entered the kitchen and stopped near the kitchen table and surveyed the food that had already been set out. “He doesn’t seem very happy about me being here,” Harry informed glumly.

“Were you expecting him to throw you a parade?” she asked in a mischievous tone and grinned at him as she put a large bowl of mashed potatoes on the table. Orion got ready to stick his finger in the mashed potatoes but Granny swatted him away.

“Orion, I want you to go wait outside at the back door and tell me when your mother comes across the way,” Granny ordered, pointing to the door at the rear of the kitchen that led to the back yard.

“Can I just stand inside and look out the window and tell you?” Orion asked in an earnest voice.

“No, you’ll wait outside like I’ve asked. I want to speak with Harry and it is to be a private talk,” Granny insisted firmly as she made a motion with her hand for Orion to go.

“There might be a monster outside and it might be waiting to eat me,” Orion complained as he walked unhappily towards the back door.

“There are no monsters on the back stoop. Just sit on the top step and wait for your mother to show up,” Granny stated and escorted Orion the rest of the way to the door. She opened it and waited for him to go out. Once he had sat down on the top step looking quite depressed, she closed the door and turned back to Harry.

Harry was not sure what she might want to talk to him about in private, but he waited patiently while she moved back across the room. She gave him a curious gaze and placed her hands on top of one of the chairs once she had reached the kitchen table.

“You use a cane to walk, I noticed,” Harry said, not sure why he brought it up.

“Yes, I was attacked by a troll when I was fifteen and my leg never healed properly. That was the year I came to Westbrook,” she began in a casual tone that suggested to Harry she did not mind talking about herself. “My history isn’t the most entertaining for the short telling. Needless to say, I ended up here in Westbrook, half dead. The townspeople took me in,” she explained.

“I’m not sure I know yet exactly how the magical community here in America works,” Harry said. “I have a idea that it’s different just because of what I’ve seen so far,” he considered.

“The American history of our kind is a bit tragic. I’m sure you’ve heard of Salem,” she said and he nodded. “Well … the truth of our history here on this side of the world is we’ve fought for magical freedom from the beginning. I’m sure you are quite aware of the laws that keep our worlds separate from those people that have no magic.”

She waited for him to nod and then continued.

“It started in Salem - witches and wizards wanting to move freely among the community,” she explained. “Not only did the non-magical people get worked up, the magical ones who wanted to stay hidden did as well.”

She paused and studied him a second or two before she continued.

“You are aware that us magical folk tend to have just as many wars and wanting to kill each other as the rest of human kind?” she offered.

“Yes, I figured that out a while ago,” he replied. “You could say I kind of have first hand experience,” he added ruefully.

“Yes, I’d say you do,” she replied and waved a hand once more, but this time it seemed in submission. “Back during that time it wasn’t just the non-magical religious groups that did all the murdering of magical folks. Let’s just say those magical folks who didn’t want to merge with the non-magical … those that wanted to remain separate, they had a large hand in killing off many of our kind. Even those with the responsibility to protect us were involved. Certain people with power not wanting to lose that power, if you understand what I’m talking about,” she mused.

“So you’re saying that at one time magical people tried to show themselves to Mugg - ah - I mean non-magicals. Over here there was sort of a war or something to get rid of the separation of magical people and non-magical people?” he asked curiously.

“That’s right, and those magical people in power didn’t want that to happen,” she suggested. “Beyond that, this fight of those in power and those that want a change has been going on for a long time. I believe it is similar to what’s going on in your country now,” she surmised.

“Voldemort is trying to take over the wizard world in my country. I don’t know if it’s exactly the same,” Harry contested.

“If this man had no followers, would he be where he is now?” she asked.

“I don’t know, I suppose he wouldn’t,” he replied uncomfortably. Harry did know that probably Voldemort would not be able to do what he was doing if it were not for those that believed in him or what he proclaimed about pureblood wizards and witches. It was just hard to wrap his mind around the fact that he had so many people to keep at bay just so he could get to Voldemort.

“Here in America we haven’t had quite as long a time to develop the traditions and history you have in England. Westbrook is unique as the town has closed itself off to both magic and non-magic people alike. We have both people here, but we have the same troubles here that appear in the outside world,” Granny began seriously. “It’s all the same, money or pureblood ideals … it’s the war of the classes and no matter what your background, it affects you in some way,” she suggested.

“I don’t know why, but this doesn’t make me feel better,” Harry complained. He was considering that even if Voldemort were finished, the problems of Muggle and wizard would still remain.

“From the news I’ve read about you and what is going on over in your country, you seem to be in charge of changing the world,” she asserted with a slight grin.

“I would have rather just been a normal average teenager. I know what I have to do, but if I had to choose I’d rather be just Harry,” he replied. “Being famous for surviving a killing curse and all that other stuff you’ve probably read about that I’ve done … I don’t know … it’s just that sometimes all this feels more like a trap than a grand adventure,” he decided, not quite sure why he felt comfortable sharing these thoughts with Granny.

He hardly knew her, but something about her face and her attitude seemed less abrasive than he had first thought. Somehow it just seemed easy to tell her his thoughts.

“I will tell you honestly - I don’t want my granddaughter going back over there,” Granny admitted. “But it is her choice, so if she decides to go back I will not stand in her way,” she vowed. “You are here and I have no problem with that. I’ve raised three boys and I doubt you are any different from how they were at your age,” she mused.

“You are welcome in my house, so don’t worry about my son’s attitude towards you. He means well, he is just trying to protect his family. You’ll have to excuse his rude behavior where you are concerned; he’s normally a very nice man,” she suggested with a gentle smile.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Harry replied, appreciating what she was saying to him. “My pass says two weeks. I don’t know if I should just take the time to enjoy it or have Celeste teach me. Dumbledore did say she could teach me things, but I don’t really know what she teaches,” Harry alluded. “The man at the gate said something about late bloomers, but I’m not that,” he added.

“She teaches regularly at the town schools, but, to put it simply, during the summer she sometimes takes in magical people whose abilities showed up later in life,” Granny explained. “Outside of Westbrook, if your magical ability shows up later you’ll be lucky if you get a good magical education. Especially if you are born with limited magical family members or have none at all,” she went on and glanced over at the door for a moment before she continued.

“In Westbrook it’s a bit different. We teach all the children together. Once a child shows magical abilities, they will get special classes during the day. Like with Orion: he spends part of the day in normal school and the other part with all the children his age that have already shown a talent for magic,” she finished.

This surprised Harry; as far as he knew, children with magical ability received formal magical training once they reached eleven.

“So, here in America … how does that work? How could you teach Orion magic if he doesn’t have a wand?” Harry asked curiously.

“Once a child here shows magical ability, they’ll get their wand; it’s called a Wanding Ceremony,” she answered. “Orion already has his wand. He showed his talent a year and a half ago I think it is now,” she said in a thoughtful manner as if she were trying to remember. “Children under the age of ten do not get to keep their wand. The parent is in control of the wand till they reach the appropriate age. At school they are turned over to the teacher and at Orion’s age he will only be able to use it in a very limited manner.”

“So, he can do magic? In England we aren’t allowed to do magic outside of school and we only get wands once we turn eleven,” Harry said, not sure he liked the idea of little kids running around with wands.

“Orion cannot do a spell yet with his wand, no. He gets to hold it, learn about it and understand it. His age group learn about the different kinds of magic. It’s very, very basic; it isn’t as if we have a group of five year olds running around zapping out spells,” Granny announced with a laugh.

“It’s just different from what I’m used to,” Harry responded.

“It was decided many years ago that to teach our children to respect their ability was not to close them off from learning till they were older. We reckoned it was best if we start them early to understand and not be afraid of what they could do or what they could learn,” she described. “We didn’t see a need to make them wait so long. Being that we were a closed community, it seemed more reasonable to take advantage of that and teach our young ones things that would be important to them and their lives for the future.”

Harry considered this explanation and nodded. He really could not argue with it because he would have liked to have known about magic when he was younger. It would have explained a lot of things he remembered happening to him, things that his aunt and uncle had ignored or punished him for. He also could see the benefit of teaching children who were younger, especially if it was done responsibly.

Harry got ready to speak again, but the back door opened and Orion was bouncing up and down in the entrance.

“Mommy’s here, she’s walking across the way. I hear her … or … I think it’s her, it might be a monster,” Orion insisted, seeming flustered and excited.

“It’s more than likely your mother,” Granny said as she stood and walked over to investigate. She looked out the door and a second or so later nodded and pointed Orion to the sink. “Go wash up for dinner,” she ordered. Orion did not wait; he walked over to the sink and opened the door under it. He pulled out a little stool and climbed up on it. Before starting to wash his hands, he turned his attention over at Harry.

“You going to wash your hands for dinner too, aren’t you?” the little boy asked. Orion’s tone sounded more that Harry should wash his hands and less like a question.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he stood and moved over to the sink.

“Gordon doesn’t have to wash his hands cause he’s a dragon,” Orion announced as he set the green stuffed dragon up on the edge of the sink. Harry eyed the dragon with humor and proceeded to wash his hands along with Orion.

“So his name is Gordon, is it?” Harry asked as he finished and reached for the drying towel that lay folded neatly beside the sink.

“Yep,” Orion answered. “He can stay up all night if he wants and jump on his bed if he wants to. He can eat all the candy he wants to, cause he’s a dragon,” Orion suggested as he dried his hands partly on his shirt and then picked up the dragon. He jumped down from the stool and hurried over to the table.

“Orion. Don’t make me get on you for that again. Last time I almost broke my neck when you left that there,” Granny scolded as she stared over at him from the doorway with a very stern expression. Orion scowled, set his dragon down at the table and moved back over to put the stool away.

“I didn’t mean to, Granny … I forgot,” he said depressively and seemed embarrassed to be scolded. Harry followed Orion back to the table and sat down beside him. Orion stared at his dragon, which he adjusted to sit neatly beside his plate.

“It’s okay, I forget things too sometimes,” Harry whispered. Orion grinned sheepishly and glanced over at the door. Harry did as well; Celeste had come into view and was talking just outside the door with her grandmother.

“Sometimes I get in trouble, but it’s hard to remember everything you’re not supposed to do,” Orion insisted in a quiet voice.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Harry muttered, remembering all the times he had got into trouble. Whether it had been deliberately or without realizing it, somehow he had always been able to think of a good reason for why he was breaking rules.

“Hi, Mommy!” Orion proclaimed as Granny and Celeste entered the house.

“I see we’re ready for dinner,” Celeste mused as she smiled wistfully at Orion and Harry.

Harry thought the smile was a bit forced though and he noticed something in her eyes that made him wonder what her father might have said to her.

“Is everything okay with your dad?” Harry asked as the two women sat down at the table.

“Oh, fine,” Celeste replied. “We had a talk and we totally disagree, which is normal,” Celeste said with a mild hint of humor in her tone.

“You’re sure? I don’t want your dad to be angry with you because of me,” Harry said bleakly. Granny gave a snort as she began to fill her plate; Celeste simply shook her head.

“What’s between me and my father has nothing to do with you, so don’t worry about it. I can handle my dad … but right now let’s eat dinner. I know you’ve had a long day, but I want to talk to you about things and finally read that letter from Dumbledore,” she stated.

“Why not just do all that in the morning dear? It's much too late now,” Granny said firmly.

“I want to at least read the letter,” Celeste replied and gave her attention back to Harry. “Granny is right on that though. I’ll read the letter tonight and you and I will talk tomorrow about things,” she said.

Harry had no problem with that, considering he was starting to become a little sleepy. The time difference between England and America was not vast, but it was enough to make him realize after he had eaten dinner and slowed down from the day’s events, he was actually very tired.

After the meal he found the letter and the box and offered them to Celeste. She stared at the box a bit warily, but took it all the same. Celeste then led him upstairs to one of the bedrooms, which she said used to be one of her uncle’s and that while he was here it would be Harry’s bedroom. She also showed him where the toilet was and explained that if he needed it and it was already occupied, there was another downstairs to the left of the kitchen, behind the stairs.

The bedroom was a neat and pleasant room with a large comfortable-looking bed. There was a desk, two different-sized dressers and what appeared to be a shelf of abandoned childhood items. There also appeared to be a closet and one window situated beside the bed.

“If you need anything, let me know. You and I can speak in the morning because there are a lot of things I’m sure I’ll want to ask you. Then we can decide what is best for you work on while you are here as far as magical training goes or whatever you need help with,” Celeste said as she stood at the doorway. Harry found his bag that he had left in the kitchen. He put it down on the bed and nodded in reply to her.

“Goodnight, Harry. Sleep well,” she said kindly.

“Goodnight, and thanks for letting me stay,” he said. Celeste nodded in return and closed the door behind herself as she left.

Harry yawned and prepared for bed. A little while later he found himself snuggled down into an unfamiliar but very agreeable bed. It was not long before he drifted off to sleep.