Harry Potter and the Icemaidens

The hopes of Lucius Malfoy and his allies to gain control of the political agenda -- and eventually the machinery -- of British wizarding society ran into a stumbling block thanks to the Daily Prophet edition of 22 August 1986.

While the news of the death and crucifixion of Helena Gibbon had got out much earlier thanks to the Wizarding Wireless Network -- the news report at six o'clock the previous evening had been quite lurid about what had been discovered earlier in the day in Knockturn Alley -- the majority of the wizards and witches of the British Isles still preferred to get their daily ration of the news through the morning papers.

The Friday edition of the Prophet would carry a blasting hex:

HARRY POTTER'S MUGGLE RELATIVES SPEAK TO WIZARDING BRITAIN!

Seeing that headline -- it was just simply UNHEARD of for the premier newspaper of British wizarding society to run an article concerning an open letter written to them from the muggle world, even if the writer was a relative of Harry Potter! -- readers from Diagon Alley to Hogsmeade were quick to locate the article in question:

By Andy Smudgley

DIAGON ALLEY, London - In the wake of the shocking news of the disappearance of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, a letter was given to Professor Severus Snape by Vernon and Petunia Dursley, Harry's Muggle uncle and aunt (Mrs. Dursley is the elder sister of the late Lily Potter). This letter contained a shocking and horrifying confession of an ugly set of magical curses and charms forced on them (and by extension, their son Dudley, who is Harry's age) by none other than the Boy-Who-Lived's own father, the late James Potter, when Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were married in 1978. Charms that ended up unleashing five years of psychological and physical abuse upon our saviour. This all stemming from the sad frustrations of a woman whose sister was blessed with magic and allowed to attend Hogwarts while the woman herself never got a chance.

Said letter, which has been reproduced here for our readers' perusal, also contains an apology from the Dursleys (the letter was written by Mr. Dursley with his wife's full support) for what those curses forced them to do to the Boy-Who-Lived in the five years he was in their care at their home outside London. Also contained in today's edition of the Prophet is a list of the charms and curses that were removed two days ago by an unknown healer from the Dursley home (please read Curses That Nearly Killed the Boy-Who-Lived by Zamira Gulch on Page One). The removal of these curses resulted in such a terrible backlash of guilt and shame that Harry's relatives felt they had no choice but to turn the Boy-Who-Lived over to the custody of magical friends (whose identities are unknown at this time) so he could be raised in a wizarding home and properly prepared for his future life amongst us, starting with his coming to Hogwarts in September 1991.

The letter reads as follows:

"To The Wizards and Witches of Britain,

"Were this just a mere two days ago and I was writing this, I would have gladly, willingly written the salutation as 'To the Freaks of Britain.'

"If you are insulted in reading that, I do sincerely apologise.

"My name is Vernon Dursley. I am related by marriage to the late Lily Elizabeth Potter (nee Evans), the mother of Harry James Potter, a boy whom, five years ago, was brought to my family for safekeeping in the wake of the defeat of Lord You-Know-Who. I understand that the person responsible for this was simply obeying your laws, which clearly state that an orphaned child must be turned over to his or her immediate relatives for safekeeping. Believe me, I applaud such a sentiment, especially when it comes to a child who lost his parents due to cold-blooded murder at the hands of an insane terrorist like You-Know-Who. And were my wife Petunia and I in our right minds at the time, I hope and pray that we would have gladly taken poor Harry in and given him a home he could call his own until the time he was to begin attending Hogwarts.

"Sadly, that never happened. Please allow me to explain why.

"I first learned of your people when I began courting one Petunia Evans for her hand in marriage. I fell in love with her as any man would fall in love with a beautiful woman. And as I came to know her better, I learned of her younger sister Lily. At first (in respect to your secrecy laws), Petunia didn't tell me the truth of what her sister was involved in. But as time went on, I learned the truth.

"I must admit that I was shocked. I am a working man. I believe in a good day's hard work for a good day's pay and have done everything I could, even to this day, to ensure that for myself and my own. To confront the reality that not only did magic exist, but that there was a separate society of magic-users that could use that power, offended my sensibilities greatly. And because I did love Petunia and respected her, I began to see her opinion (born of childhood jealousy and a desire to actually have been born a witch like Lily) that all of your kind were just 'freaks' (again, I apologise if that offends you out there) that didn't deserve any respect at all.

"If we had known what would happen to us after our marriage, I think our opinions might have been proven quite correct. At our wedding in 1978, I got the chance to meet not only Lily, but her then-fiancé, James Potter, who was (as you all know) born and raised in your society. And (no doubt, I believe, because of his love for the lady of his life) James took the chance to hex Petunia and I. He did that using a lamp (a wedding gift) that was filled to the brim with charms and curses that were meant to mentally make my wife and I (and later, our children) hate all things magical with a passion that You-Know-Who and his murderous hooligans showed over the last decade to all those among your kind they didn't consider 'pure' in blood.

"Had that been the end of it, I doubt you would have heard anything from us ever again. But the events of 31 October 1981 changed everything for us. The night after my sister-in-law and her husband were murdered in cold blood by You-Know-Who, an orphaned child was left on our doorstep, with a letter from Albus Dumbledore explaining what had happened to Lily and James and imploring us to care for Harry 'as if he were one of our own' (those were Dumbledore's words, by the way) until he was old enough to live on his own. And eventually return to your society when he was ready to do so.

"But thanks to Harry's very own father, that would never happen.

"We (and this would later include our son, Dudley) saw him as a freak.

"An intruder on our perfect, normal home.

"Someone, SOMETHING, that didn't belong.

"And we treated him as such.

"We never got him any clothes save for cast-offs Dudley didn't need. We never allowed him to have his own bedroom. In fact, we banished him to the cupboard under the stairs to the upper floor of our house; in our eyes, he didn't deserve to be treated as a NORMAL boy. We never celebrated his birthday. We never got him proper care for his short-sightedness or got him proper dental care or medical care whenever he was hurt. We forced him to become what your people call a 'house elf,' cleaning the house, cooking our food, caring for the lawn and garden, doing everything we should have helped in doing while Petunia and I doted on our son. We never even called him by name. It was always 'freak' or 'boy;' he never learned his name until he began attending the local infant school and the staff there asked him about it.

"He was a stranger to us.

"And now I shudder to think as to what might have happened hadn't a very kind young witch (I won't say her name as she is a minor and protecting their identities is a very important thing in my society) discovered what James Potter did to us, then summoned aide in seeing those charms and curses broken and we freed at last to see the pain we had unleashed on a child who never did anything to deserve it.

"The guilt Petunia, Dudley and I felt after we were freed of that was awful.

"I pray no one, in your society or mine, will ever have to experience it.

"To that end, on behalf of my wife and my son, I would like to express my deepest and sincerest apologies to all of you in wizarding society, who care so much for Harry Potter for what he did to You-Know-Who which saved so many, for what we did to him in the five years he was with us, even if James instigated it at the beginning. What we did was inhumane and criminal. And even if Harry forgives us for what we were made to do to him, I think it will be a very long time before we can forgive ourselves.

"What you think about this, about us, I cannot and will not predict. What I hope, however, is that when the time comes that Harry gets that letter to invite him to Hogwarts in 1991, that you will welcome him back to your society and give him the chance that might have been denied him thanks to You-Know-Who and his hooligans. To ensure this will happen, we allowed those magical friends of that wonderful young witch (again, I will say no names as they all value their personal privacies) to take Harry away from us, allow him to grow up knowing his parents' society, its history, culture and traditions, so that when he gets that letter in the summer of 1991, he will be ready to be once more with you in the open as I'm sure Lily (may God ensure she now rests in peace) desired when she did what she did to help Harry survive that night.

"Again, we are all truly sorry for what happened.

"Be well, all of you.

"And may You-Know-Who or his ilk never return to hurt you again.

"Yours sincerely,

"Vernon L. Dursley"

On reading this, this reporter found himself shocked and awed by the sincerity of this letter. He also confirmed that Professor Albus Dumbledore, who analysed the letter after Professor Snape brought it to Hogwarts, had sensed through magical means that Mr. Dursley's words were quite truthful and sincere.

"We must of course acknowledge what has happened as a terrible thing that I pray will never happen again," Dumbledore stated to this reporter after the letter was brought to the Daily Prophet for publishing. "It cheers my heart that Harry found it within himself to forgive his relatives for what they were made to do to him because of James' immature actions years ago. While I do wish that Harry could stay with them (as such is our law when it comes to orphans), I can understand the Dursleys' feelings on this matter. They were badly hurt because of this. Harry was badly hurt because of this. I am grateful to those good wizards and witches who saved the Dursleys and Harry from this terrible situation. And I admire Vernon and Petunia for their desire to protect their identities as there are still supporters of You-Know-Who out there who will do anything to avenge their master's downfall in 1981."

Professor Dumbledore did not say anything about any theories he might have concerning who these mysterious saviours of the Boy-Who-Lived could be.

[Editor's Note: Both Mr. Dursley and Professor Dumbledore wrote and spoke You-Know-Who's name directly. We edited that out of respect for our readers' sensibilities.]

The other article on Page One was under the headline CURSES THAT NEARLY KILLED THE BOY-WHO-LIVED, written by Zamira Gulch, author of the popular homecare guide Practical Household Magic and a person who offered advice in her own column in the Prophet on common magical problems. A Charms Mistress -- a Hufflepuff who graduated Hogwarts in 1955 and had a short career in the Department of Mysteries before she retired from government service in the late 1960s to write books -- Zamira had been quick to compose a damning report on what could have happened had the ugly situation at the Dursley home been allowed to continue unchecked.

The article ended with these words: "This writer finds herself shuddering as she considers what might have happened had poor Harry, to say anything of his relatives and future generations of the Dursley clan, was not saved by that smart young witch who came to their home two days ago. What would Harry be like when he came to Hogwarts in five years' time? Would he be powerful psychologically as he clearly was magically when he faced down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in 1981? What would his future life be like? And would future magical children be born of Dursley blood? I cannot say; for all my expertise, I am not a Healer, so I will not speculate. Still, I clearly join my co-workers at the Daily Prophet in thanking the Fates that the events of two days ago did happen and that the Boy-Who-Lived and his relatives are free of such a careless, thoughtless prank forced on an unsuspecting Muggle couple at their wedding day. May we all look forward to the time Harry Potter rejoins us. I certainly am."

Page Two contained side articles by Rita Skeeter (who covered what Gringotts' reaction to Harry Potter's disappearance had been; it was exactly as Albus Dumbledore had predicted to Barnabas Cuffe the previous day), Reginald Amorin (the personal security columnist of the Prophet; he did a story on the current magic-blocking ward around Little Whinging and its effect on magical travel in and out of London to points west), Andrea Fenetre (who often did stories concerning relations between the wizarding and Muggle worlds; she did an analysis on what the Ministry's possible response to what happened to the Dursleys and Harry Potter would be) and Edward Limus (who got some on-the-street interviews from people in Diagon and elsewhere about Harry's disappearance).

Barnabas' editorial focussed on the letter from the Dursleys. He started it by complementing the Dursleys for their "considerable moral fortitude" in speaking out like they did for what they had been forced to do to Harry Potter. He expressed his personal relief that no permanent damage had been done to the victims of James Potter's terrible prank. He then openly thanked the "wonderful wizards and witches" who came to the rescue of the Boy-Who-Lived and his relatives, ensuring all would recover from what happened and would live a happy and peaceful life in the future. He also called upon the Ministry of Magic to "simply accept what has happened to young Harry Potter," pleading with them to not go after the Dursleys for something that clearly wasn't their fault, much less trying to engage in a search for the now-missing Boy-Who-Lived.

He finished his daily writing with this: "These people's actions were clearly that of wizards and witches who truly believe in the good of all beings, magical and Muggle alike. We should thank them for their actions, respect their desire for privacy (for that ultimately protects Harry Potter [who is, in the end, only six years old] from those who would seek to harm him in whatever way possible) and ensures that when that day comes that a letter goes out to our young saviour inviting him to being his magical journey at Hogwarts, he will be as prepared as possible to be once more part of our world. On behalf of the staff of the Prophet, I thank you, whoever you are, for what you did two days ago. May your magic always be with you."

* * *

Betty Braithwaite's article on Helena Gibbon's death wound up on Page Five.

When later asked about it, the young and energetic reporter stated that she really didn't mind what had happened to her first big article . . .

* * *

Beckery Hill . . .

"Uncle Moony, what's that?"

Remus perked on hearing Rose's question, and then he smiled. "This is the main daily newspaper of our society, kitten," he explained as he folded up his copy of the Daily Prophet and placed it on the kitchen table in the Reevetor while he and Rose were waiting for dinner; Harry was now with Lilian exploring the Reevewick and meeting up with many of the people who often frequented there.

As the newest member of the Volunteer Constabulary of Her Majesty's Loyal Magical Reevewick of Somerset, Remus now was earning a salary -- fifty galleons a month, paid for from inter-dimensional trade taxes administered by Gringotts on a contract with the Reevewick -- which allowed him to get a subscription to the Prophet and Xenophilius Lovegood's Quibbler. The papers -- delivered via portkey from Diagon Alley through Rose Potter's vault as Her Majesty's Magical Shire Reeve (Presumptive) of Somerset -- would allowing the werewolf to keep up with news in "mainstream" wizarding society so he could ensure the Potter siblings were kept up to date about happenings there while they went to a normal school in Glastonbury. "The Daily Prophet. A lot of people read it." He pointed to the paper. "There's a big article there today about a letter your uncle Vernon wrote to our people. He said he was sorry for what James forced on him and your aunt Petunia that ended up hurting your brother. A lot of the people at the Prophet have expressed their support over what happened to him two days ago."

Rose hummed as she picked up the paper and stared at the front page for a moment, her green eyes scanning the words as she began to read. Noting that, Remus could only silently whistle in admiration at the incredible spell research Ryuuji Hirosaki had done fifty years before that gave Glaston Tore the ability to use his life and magic to save this poor girl from Voldemort's wrath. Not to mention the sheer amount of magical power Glaston himself had that had obviously been transferred to Rose and was enhancing her own magical abilities to a degree that would leave people breathless in just a few years. Hamilton St. John had told him that there had been over TWENTY potential incidents of known or suspected accidental magic attributed to Rose that he was personally aware of since she turned four in March, including the one when she finally learned about Harry on his birthday that led her and Lilian to Little Whinging. I wonder what Albus was like when he was a child, much less Riddle, the werewolf mused as he watched his charge scan the paper.

"Dunderheads."

Remus blinked. "What do you mean, Rose?"

"Oh, it's these people who always call big brother their 'saviour,'" the young girl said as she pointed to the articles on Page Two of the Prophet. "Big brother didn't do anything to stop Voldemort when he came. It was all Mom's work. Why can't they try to realise that it was Mom who made sure that creep went down?"

A chuckle. "It's because your mother was normal-born, kitten."

Her nose crinkled. "So what?"

"Well, unfortunately, there are a lot of people out there who can't bring themselves to see that normal-borns like your mother are capable of doing great things with their magic," he stated. "It's just like what people like to think about those like myself or your Aunt Nancy and her friends. We're werewolves . . . " He then smirked. "Sorry. Lunar canine therianthropes, I mean." He sighed. "Because our blood isn't 'pure,' we're not really seen as wizards. Since your mother was born of a pair of normals, her blood certainly wasn't seen as 'pure.' That's when some of those people came up with the term 'mudblood.' Since the blood of normals is seen by people like that as 'dirty,' the blood of normal-borns is seen as equally 'dirty.'"

A snort. "Dunderheads."

He blinked, and then he grinned. "Yeah, kitten." While he was still wracking his head about potential nicknames to use with Harry outside of "cub" -- he really didn't like "Prongslet," which had been a nickname Sirius Black had given Harry when he was a baby -- Remus had decided that Rose's Marauder name would be "Tigress" given her magical potential and her considerable temper, which had been inherited from her mother Lily ("Tiger Lily" as she had been known). "They are that, aren't they?" He then took a deep breath. "I must confess, I actually was surprised to hear about what your father did to your relatives. From what I knew of them, your uncle and aunt weren't very nice people. They actually didn't want your parents to come to their wedding, in fact; it was your mom's parents that insisted they be there."

She considered that. "Do you think Dad made Mom's parents do that?"

Remus hummed. "Possibly. He really didn't like it when your mother spoke of all the times your aunt hurt her, even if it was just with words. Your dad really loved your mother. As much as your uncle loves your aunt." A sigh. "I guess that what happened all those years ago was going to happen one way or another. Petunia was broken-hearted because she wasn't a witch and couldn't go to Hogwarts. Over time, her feelings about your mother's gift turned into jealousy, which wound up making her think your mother was a freak. And when Vernon got involved . . . "

"And Dad."

A nod. "Yes. And your dad, too." A sigh. "Well, it never would come to affect you and you just saved your brother and your relatives from it, too. A good thing, too." Remus then smirked. "Even if many people out there are dunderheads, they're going to be looking up to your brother when he goes to Hogwarts. How would Harry have reacted to it had he stayed with your aunt and uncle and nothing changed?" He then shuddered. "Well, no sense worrying about that now."

"Yeah," Rose said with a nod. "They're still dunderheads, though."

Remus stared at her, and then he laughed . . .

* * *

Hogwarts . . .

"So we got the final student list for this year?" Albus asked.

"And the booklist, too," Minerva said as she handed the headmaster the draft covering letter for the booklist to go out to returning and new students. Preparing that had been exceptionally late this year given the hard search needed for the position of professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts this time around. "The letters for the booklist head out tomorrow morning. All the staff are on standby for the muggleborns."

"Ah, excellent," he noted as he scanned the names of students soon to come in. "Ah, wonderful! I see David Flint's son Marcus will be joining us this year! No doubt, he'll follow his father into Slytherin. Severus should be pleased."

The deputy headmistress nodded. "A neutral family as I recall. Always good when their children arrive. He'll be in a position of responsibility by the time the Malfoys and the Parkinsons send their children here."

Albus nodded. "Yes, I've heard some rather ominous rumblings about young Draco from those who've seen him whenever he's come out with his parents to the levees run by the Ministry and all the prominent families. A virtual twin of his father, I fear. Matthew and Pansy Parkinson might be a pair to watch as well when they come to school; Malcolm and Gruoch Parkinson might have avoided allying with Tom in the last war, but they're still very Dark." He hummed. "Not Lucius' daughter, though."

Minerva blinked. "They have a daughter, too?!" This was news to her.

He nodded. "Yes. Raven Malfoy. She'll be in Rose's year when she comes here. Quite a polite young lady, I remember from the one time I met her at the Ministry during one levee Millicent dragged me into." Albus' eyes twinkled with delight. "Bright and intelligent; actually speaks much more maturely than a girl her age should speak. Also showing signs of considerable magical potential, so I've heard. Quite odd given that for the last few generations, the Malfoys have only had children with average levels of magic." He turned back to scan through the list of names. "It might be interesting when she and Cassiopeia come here, much less Charlotte and Ariel."

"Who are they?!"

"Cassiopeia Lestrange, Charlotte Crabbe and Ariel Goyle."

Minerva turned as Severus walked into the room. He was soon followed by Filius and Poppy. "Ah, good afternoon, all! Are we prepared for the new year?" Albus asked.

"Quite prepared, Albus," the potions master replied as the charms master and the healer nodded in agreement. "I know the booklist is going out. Quite late, I note."

"Unfortunately so, but it was quite difficult to get Albert Runcorn to agree to become the D.A.D.A. teacher," the headmaster noted. "A pity we couldn't find out what happened to his cousin Herodotus, much less Hero's wife Napaeae. He was a very good Auror before he was forced to retire and -- if I recall correctly -- her D.A.D.A. NEWTs were top of the class." He then paused as he scratched his chin. "Perhaps when he is teaching here, someone should ask him about what happened to his family."

The others nodded in understanding; the "curse" - and it was that! -- on the position of D.A.D.A. professor had been ongoing since the early 1960s. Just as Minerva turned to ask something, the door opened to reveal a very muscular and solid-looking man in a formal suit, no different than what he had worn to his office job in the Ministry. "Hello, everyone!" Albert Runcorn -- he had been an Auror, a good investigator of various crimes, for years before he shifted to the administrative side of the D.M.L.E. until Albus headhunted him for the D.A.D.A. post -- called out with a smile as he moved to close the door behind him. "I've got my teaching plans all set up, Albus," he said as he placed a roll of parchment on the headmaster's desk.

"Ah, wonderful, Albert! Ready to teach young minds new things?!"

"It'll be not much of a change from when I helped instruct recruits at Auror school," Albert asserted with a grin, and then he winked at his new boss, his pale blue eyes shining with mirth. "But don't worry about that, Albus. I won't be as harsh on them as Alastor was on me when I went through training."

"A good thing. Much that I hope the Ministry can soon fully rebuild our law enforcement forces from what happened thanks to Voldemort . . . " -- Albus ignored the shudder that raced through some of the people around him on mentioning that name. -- " . . . we should do our civic duty and assist in whatever way we can." He then hummed. "Oh, speaking of which, Albert, we were wondering about your cousin Herodotus and his wife before you came in. Do you have any idea what happened to them?"

Albert made a face as he ran his hand through his black hair. "Actually, I can't answer that, Albus. Much that I do care for them, I haven't really seen either of them, much less their children, since before the war with You-Know-Who ended. I know they have three daughters; their oldest, Achelois, will be coming here when Harry Potter comes here from wherever he is right now. Other than that, I can't say." He then shrugged. "I would be rather a little hesitant to find out, though."

"Why's that?" Filius asked. He remembered Herodotus Runcorn and Napaeae Collins quite well; both had been exceptional students when they attended Hogwarts.

He smirked. "'Albert' is actually my middle name, Filius. My full name is Demaratus Albert Runcorn." A self-depreciating laugh then escaped him. "My family -- and Napaeae's family, the Collinses -- have long had this fascination with ancient Greek history. The elders of both our clans have always bent themselves backwards to find odd names for us to have when we're born. I've always hated that. And it didn't really sit well with my relatives, especially Napaeae's father." He chuckled as he gave Albus a knowing look. "I know that my position is cursed, Albus, so this job might not be as long-lasting as I originally hoped it would be. Are you thinking of asking Hero or Napaeae to take my place should that become necessary?"

"I'm glad that you do understand that point, my boy," Albus said, nodding.

Albert nodded in return. He knew that the headmaster wasn't insulting his teaching credentials by asking about potential replacements. He had been here as a student himself between 1967 and 1974, so he knew what often happened with D.A.D.A. teachers at Hogwarts. "I'll send them an owl as soon as I can."

"Fair enough. And thank you, Albert."

He nodded before heading out of the room. "Well, at least he's not full of himself," Filius noted after the door closed. "Not like some of the other ones."

"True," Albus noted. "You were about to ask something, Minerva?"

"Yes, I was. I didn't know the Lestranges had a daughter. I know there was a child . . . "

The headmaster nodded. "Oh, yes, they did. As you'll recall, she was born in Azkaban despite all pleas -- even mine -- to transport Bellatrix to Saint Mungo's so she could give birth to Cassiopeia in a more healthy setting. I actually had to help administer the birth by keeping the Dementors away with a Patronus from the clinic when it happened." He shuddered as he remembered that April morning in 1982 when he was called to the island prison fortress to help welcome such a lovely child into the world.

"Where is she now?" she wondered.

"She lives under Lucius' and Narcissa's charge in Carlisle alongside my godson Draco and his sister Raven," Severus noted. "It actually shocked everyone when it was revealed that Bellatrix was pregnant with a child. She was badly roughed up by the Aurors when they caught her and her friends at the Longbottoms. Many feared the child would be lost because of that, but Cassiopeia was quite healthy when she was born. As were Raven, Charlotte and Ariel," he then added. "Narcissa Malfoy -- to say anything of Helena Crabbe and Phillipa Goyle -- were not in the best of health after their sons were born in 1980; that was the time of some of the worst fighting between the Death Eaters and the Ministry." A shrug. "Yet all three of them gave birth to very healthy daughters sometime after it all ended. As did Alice Longbottom, I believe."

Minerva nodded. "That's right. I actually watched Augusta and Algeron dance around Diagon Alley a few months ago, as happy as could be!" As everyone stared at her, the transfiguration mistress added, "Grace had just shown her first sign of accidental magic. I've kept in communication with Augusta since that time. At least twenty incidents of accidental magic from Grace to date! It's incredible!"

"Really?"

Eyes locked on Poppy. "What is it?" Albus asked.

The healer sighed as she pulled out a rolled parchment. "Look at that."

Albus took it, and then he unrolled it. He then stared at it before his jaw dropped in shocked disbelief. "This can't be!" he blurted out.

"It is," Poppy affirmed. "I ran the test five times to make sure of it."

"What is that?" Filius asked.

"Rose Potter's results from the Neuwied Test."

Everyone looked at her, and then they leaned over to gaze on the parchment the healer brought with her. "My word!" Filius breathed out before he stared at Poppy. "She received a score of 205 points?! Albus rated 225 . . . and that was tested two years ago when Johannes brought it here! How in Merlin's name is that possible?!"

"I can't say," Poppy replied, shrugging. "But I do believe that this might be the direct result of what Glaston did for her five years ago."

"Amazing," Albus said. "And given Glaston was best friends to Ryuuji Hirosaki -- even went with him to this 'magical world' Ryuuji discovered while he was studying here in 1936 -- it may explain something else we were just discussing right now."

"Raven, Cassiopeia, Charlotte, Ariel and Grace, you mean?"

Eyes locked on Severus. "Indeed," the headmaster stated. "Severus, do you think you could prevail on your friends to get blood samples of those girls so Poppy could run them through Johannes' test?" Oberunsaeglicher Johannes Neuwied, a senior researcher in the Abteilung fuer Mysterien of the Bundesamt fuer Magische Angelegenheiten in Bonn, developed a blood-based magical testing system five years ago to determine one's total magical potential. While many European magical ministries had yet to adopt it, the Neuwied Test had become a hit among various magical governments and populations in the Americas and Asia.

"I believe I can," the potions master noted.

"I'll talk to Augusta about Grace," Minerva volunteered.

"Thank you, Minerva," Albus breathed out. "You know, I've believed for a while now that Harry's years here will be interesting. Having just heard of what Poppy discovered about Harry's sister, I should remind myself of the old Chinese adage: 'May you live in interesting times.' Rose will be as interesting as her brother, I fear."

The others nodded . . .

* * *

Bournemouth, the Longbottom Estate, Saturday 23 August 1986 . . .

"So what does this test actually mean, Minerva?"

Minerva sipped her tea. She had fire-called the matriarch of the Longbottom family the previous afternoon, then apparated over before supper to get the necessary blood sample from Grace Longbottom and got it into Poppy's hands so she could run the Neuwied Test on her host's granddaughter and get the results back as soon as possible. It was now late morning in Dorset, a cloudy day over the south-eastern part of England.

"That's the test the German Unspeakable, Johannes Neuwied, created five years ago to give parents a good idea of overall magical potential in their children before they get their invites to places like Hogwarts and Beauxbatons," the transfiguration mistress explained. "We just got a very interesting blood sample and Poppy ran it through the test to get a result that comes very close to matching Albus'." She nodded to the parchment in Augusta's hand. "That is also quite close."

Augusta blinked. "What's Albus' reading?" she asked.

"He got a 225. Two years ago."

The Longbottom matriarch gaped. "Merlin's Beard! And Grace got a 201?!"

Minerva nodded, grinning. "Yes."

Silence fell as Augusta took a moment to consider that. She had always been torn when it came to her grandchildren. While Neville -- who, given that most of the Noble and Most Ancient Magical Houses of the British wizarding world were still governed under a version of Salic Law, would be seen as the next patriarch of the Longbottoms of Bournemouth given his father's stay in Saint Mungo's -- had been quite a disappointment so far when it came to accidental magic, Grace was a whole different story.

"So what you're saying is this: A test that accurately records total magical potential now states that my four year-old granddaughter, who has YET to be even TRAINED in magic, has nearly the SAME potential as a man who is 105 years old and a veteran of two magical wars?!" Augusta demanded. "Is that right, Minerva?!"

A nod. "Yes, Augusta. And Grace isn't alone in this."

Silence.

"What do you mean?" Augusta demanded.

Minerva sipped her tea. "Augusta, by all rights, when Alice gave birth to Grace in 1982, she should have turned out to be a squib. That's what happens to people who are affected by long exposure to the Cruciatus; you know that. Yet Grace is showing great potential in magic and she's just past her fourth birthday." She then sighed as she gazed on her host. "You know of Cassiopeia Lestrange, don't you?"

Augusta stiffened for a moment, and then she sighed. "Yes, I do. Much that I would gladly wish any sort of curse on Bellatrix, I wouldn't dream of hurting her child. I actually met Cassi once; it was a levee two months ago." She then smiled. "When she got the chance to get away from her relatives, she took Grace and I into a side room. Raven, Cassi's cousin, was there. And once we were alone, Cassi said that if she had a wand with her, she would swear her life and magic to the service of the House of Longbottom in repayment for what her parents did to Grace's parents."

Silence.

"Oh, my!" Minerva breathed out. "Did you believe her?"

"At first, I didn't. But as I watched her during the levee, I noted that she was doing something I found quite unique." As Minerva sent her a look, the matriarch of the Longbottoms then smiled. "She never used the word 'muggle.'"

More silence.

"Really?" the transfiguration mistress breathed out. "That's odd."

"Even odder was this," Augusta stated. "When Draco -- that's Raven's brother, by the way; a complete clone of his father -- started talking about 'mudbloods' and how he would hate to meet them, both Raven and Cassi looked at him like he had grown a second head." She chuckled. "I asked them about it when I got the chance. Both of them said they HATED the word 'mudblood.' They thought Draco was a total idiot to say something like that without ever meeting a muggleborn." She sipped her tea. "And when I asked her if she would like to meet a muggle, Cassi asked, 'Why do we call them that? It makes them sound like they were monsters.'" As Minerva gaped at her, her host added, "'After all, if normal-born witches come from normals, that means they're human, too. Right?'" She sighed. "If You-Know-Who comes back . . . "

"He might not get either of them to support him," Minerva finished.

"What are you trying to say, Minerva?"

The deputy headmistress sighed. "We may have discovered how Grace -- and possibly Raven, Cassiopeia and two others we know of -- came to be so powerful."

"What do you mean?"

Minerva closed her eyes. "I need a magical oath, first."

Augusta tensed. "Why?"

"Because it also involves what just happened to Harry Potter."

The matriarch of the Longbottoms blinked, and then she drew out her wand, assuming the position one took when taking a magical life-oath. "I, Augusta Lucille Longbottom, do swear on my magic and my life that I will not reveal whatever my good friend, Minerva Mary McGonagall, will reveal to me concerning what just occurred to Harold James Potter and how that currently affects my granddaughter, Grace Augusta Longbottom. This I swear. So mote it be!" After the obligatory flash of magic to "seal the deal," she relaxed. "So what did you just find out?"

"Lily was pregnant with a daughter when You-Know-Who attacked."

Augusta gaped. "Oh, my . . .!"

"The girl survived."

Silence.

"WHAT?!" the older woman hissed out.

"It's true," Minerva said as she pulled something from her robes, handing it over. "Her name is Rose Jamie Potter," she said as Augusta took the picture in hand, and then gaped on seeing what was there. "The people who saved her -- and just saved Harry, not to mention freed Harry's relatives from the after-effects of James' stupid prank -- are also the people who killed Daniel Rosier and Helena Gibbon. Not to mention saved those poor muggleborns in Romney Marsh back in 1979."

A hum. "Really?!" Augusta then breathed out, smiling in approval. Whoever managed to kill Death Eaters were quite alright in her eyes. "Who are they?"

Minerva shook her head. "We've no idea."

"What's wrong with Rose, Auntie Minnie?"

Both women gasped on hearing that concerned voice, and then spun around to the entrance of the recreation room to see a pretty girl with blonde hair and dark brown eyes peeking into the room. "Grace!" Augusta gasped. "What are you doing here?!"

Grace shrugged as she walked inside, closing the door behind her. "I heard Auntie Minnie mention Rose's name and I was really worried, Grandma," she said as she walked over. On seeing the picture in her grandmother's hand, she reached over to take it from Augusta, and then looked at it before grinning. "Oh, wow! Rose and her big brother are living together with Uncle Remus! That's great!"

Minerva gaped. "Grace, how do you know about Rose?"

A shrug. "I dream about her."

Silence.

"Excuse me . . .?" Minerva eeped, her jaw on the floor.

"I dream about her," Grace affirmed with a nod as she handed the picture to her grandmother. "And Raven and Cassi and Ariel and Lotti, too."

Augusta perked. "Who are Ariel and Lotti, young lady?"

Grace shrugged. "Ariel Goyle and Lotti Crabbe, Grandma."

"Vince Crabbe's and Lance Goyle's daughters," Minerva augmented.

Augusta stared at her. "Lucius' associates, you mean?"

Minerva nodded, and then she stared at Grace. "What do you dream of?"

A shrug. "Oh, it's just . . . " Grace then paused as her eyes widened for a moment, her body slightly swaying before she breathed out, "Brother . . . "

Before her grandmother or their guest could react, the young girl gasped as she ran for the door. Minerva and Augusta watched her go, and then raced after her. "BROTHER!" Grace screamed out as she charged down the hallway as fast as four year-old legs could carry her, and then she stopped as she got to the main reception hall, looking up before she bellowed in very righteous anger, "UNCLE ALGIE!"

Minerva and Augusta arrived just as Algeron Wilde -- Augusta's older brother -- jerked before his hands let go of the legs of a gagged and bound Neville Longbottom.

From the balcony of the second floor.

As the transfiguration mistress yanked out her wand, ready to set up a cushioning charm to catch the falling boy, Grace flung her hand out. Minerva then gaped as a couch nearby suddenly slid across the floor to stop just in time as Neville landed side-first into it, bouncing up and down again a couple more times as his sister ran over to untie and un-gag him. Algeron then leaned over the balcony before he called out, "Just a minute, Grace! Don't untie him . . .!"

Grace's dark eyes swung up to lock on his face. Algernon jerked as those eyes glared accusingly at him, and then he cried out as she thrust up the palm of her right hand at him . . . just as the whole section of balcony he was standing on exploded and sent the poor Unspeakable tumbling to the ground floor, landing in a heap of arms, legs and shattered masonry! As Minerva and Augusta morbidly watched, Grace huffed before she moved to protectively embrace her wide-eyed brother. "You creep!" she spat with as much righteous anger as a four year-old girl could muster before she turned to pull Neville off the couch and began to untie him. "C'mon, Neville. I better hide you someplace safe," she said as she pulled off the gag from her brother's lips, and then she took his hand, walking the still-pale boy away from the reception room.

Minerva and Augusta watched her go, and then the latter sighed. "I think that's twenty-two incidents of accidental magic. Don't you agree, Minerva?"

"Actually, it's twenty-three," Minerva said.

Augusta blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Grace also protected Neville from the masonry."

The older woman considered that, and then she nodded. Minerva then looked over as a moan escaped the wreckage nearby. "Are you alright, Algeron?"

"I'll tell you . . . in a minute . . . my dear . . . "

Minerva shook her head . . .

* * *

To be continued . . .