Chapter 1: Days Long Awaited

Albus paced the floor of his room, which was clean today, even by his standards. He had always been the neat one out of the three Potter children, with his younger sister Lily opting for a bit of chaos and clutter, and his older brother James usually favoring a total shambles. He had dusted off the Gryffindor lion that hung over his bed, changed the sheets, even cleaned the windowsill – all without his mother's instruction, all without her help…

It was what she would have wanted anyway. Today, the Potters, for the first time in a while, were entertaining guests.

It had been nearly two weeks since the first of the month – Albus had turned twelve that day – and about a week since they had been given the news. Thus, for the last seven days, Albus found himself operating in some undetermined gray area between excitement and nervousness. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he was so nervous. After all, it was only a school friend and her parents, right?

Of course, it wasn't often that they had guests. Most of the guests they had were family members – and most of them were over so often that they could no longer be called 'guests', to be completely truthful. Teddy Lupin had been over just last night for dinner. He now came once or twice a week, if that, as opposed to three or four times like he'd done before Albus started school. He'd gotten a job at Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley right in time for the summer holiday. He was still living with his gran but planned on striking out on his own as soon as he put together enough Galleons. Of course, James and Albus once again offered to share a room, as it was much closer to London from Ottery St. Catchpole than it was from wherever Teddy was living. Their father, of course, turned them down flat for what had to have been the millionth time.

Rose, on the other hand, was over most weekends. She seemed to enjoy the busy atmosphere of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes far less than Hugo, who had already implied once or twice that he'd rather simply take up the family business than go to Hogwarts at all. Of course, everyone knew there was no chance of that happening – not with Aunt Hermione for a mother. Hugo might help his father and uncle run the shop eventually, but only after he finished his time at school. As it was, though, he still had another full year, so he tended to spend most of his time at the shop, learning what he could.

Louis, on the other hand, had sent an owl to the Potter House all the way from Shell Cottage, asking Albus what his first year at Hogwarts had been like. He was to board the train with them this fall – and Albus honestly didn't know what to tell him. His first year had been more or less a blur, and it wasn't like Hugo could expect the exact same experience that Albus had. After all, a lot of it had to do with what House one was Sorted into, and Albus wasn't entirely convinced that Louis would join him, James, and Dominique (Louis' older sister) in House Gryffindor.

All in all, though, summer at the Potter House had been peaceful and, frankly, more than a bit boring. Dad still went into work at the Auror Office, and Mum still went into London to hand in columns to the Daily Prophet once or twice a week. Mum still hated to hear Dad's work stories at the dinner table as well, although they did share a rather hearty laugh once about a badly categorized case finding Dad's desk. It was something about toilets jinxed to explode rather than flush once the lever was pulled. Albus supposed that, on one level, a regurgitating toilet simply had more inherent humor than most things; but Mum and Dad seemed to find it especially funny, and Albus couldn't figure out why. Mum also said Grandad Weasley would enjoy the story. Albus didn't know why that was the case, either.

THUMP. THUMP.

"Al-buuuuuuuuuuus~!" a girl's voice sang from outside of his shut door.

"Come in!" Albus replied. The door swung open, and there stood his red-haired, ten-year-old sister, Lily.

"It's almost four," she said, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet and looking around. "Is your room clean yet?"

Albus frowned. Lily could be sarcastic when she wanted.

"Is yours?" Albus asked.

Lily folded her arms. Of the three Potter children, Lily was youngest and the only girl. If any of them could be called the spoiled one, it was her.

"Your girlfriend's not coming into my room," she said a bit petulantly.

"What are you talking about?" asked Albus. "Sylvia's friends with Rose and I. We're all in the same year."

"But you don't have Rose's birthday card standing up on your desk," Lily said, stepping into the room toward the objects in question.

"Well, Rose gives me one every year," Albus reasoned.

"So this one's special, is that it?" she asked, picking up the card. Sylvia had done a rather sloppy job with some charmed glitter. To Albus's complete lack of surprise, Sylvia Thomas had no hidden artistic talent – still, it was the thought that counted. It was his first birthday present from a school friend – or, truthfully, from anyone outside of his own family. So, in that way, it was special.

"Hey, that's mine!" Albus snapped, feeling a fresh rush of anger. He made to swipe the card away from her, but Lily danced out of the way, standing in the doorway and grinning impishly before taking off down the hall at a dead sprint. "Lily, wait—…" He sighed heavily. "Merlin's pants."

And he shut his door again.

"Fi, stop it!" he heard Lily's voice a few moments later, followed very swiftly by the yowl of a cat. He flopped back onto his bed, hoping that Fiamma didn't claw the card to bits or worse – use it as a litterbox. If Sylvia saw it, she wouldn't be very happy with Albus for being so careless. At the same time, Albus didn't feel much like chasing Lily around the house – let alone Lily's cat. She had grown quite a bit since Albus had been away. The cat, that is. (Although Lily was quickly catching up to Albus's height, much to his chagrin)

Albus wished he knew what Scorpius was doing. Probably holed up in the Malfoy mansion, looking at Quidditch diagrams for next season. Albus supposed Scorpius wasn't allowed to send letters by owl, or he would have done it already. After all, the Malfoys probably had the means. Even though they had fallen on hard times, they were still one of the richest wizarding families in Britain – or at least that's what their reputation and frequent donations to the Ministry said.

A chime rang through the Potter House, only faintly audible through Albus's door – but it might as well have been a small explosion. He jumped to his feet, sprinting halfway down the hall before realizing that his feet were feeling too much of the floor. He couldn't be seen barefoot. He darted back into his room, nearly knocking over his brother.

"Bloody hell, Al," muttered James, and as Albus darted past him a third time, James followed with a slow, languid strut.

Albus was too late to greet them at the door; by the time he'd come down the stairs (he stopped himself from leaping the last few so as not to look completely ridiculous), tall, dark-skinned Dean Thomas, wearing robes that looked uncomfortable for mid-July, was embracing Albus's parents at the doorway.

"Blimey, what a mess," Dean muttered. "You know... maybe I should stick to Apparition. I thought we'd come over by broom, you know, it's a nice day, we weren't in too much of a hurry. Neither, apparently, was the old man on the Cleansweep Seven that nearly ploughed us…"

Harry chuckled.

"Collisions can happen during Apparition, you know," remarked Ginny. "Perce had to sort one out… absolute shambles."

"Do I even want to know how this ends?" asked Dean. Harry hastily shook his head, but Ginny kept talking.

"Imagine splinching – you know what splinching is, right? – Except you splinch into someone else's body. So you could have, say, someone else's hand attached –"

Harry made a loud vocalizing groan. "Well, my appetite's gone."

Ginny laughed.

"I get the picture… and it's an awful picture," Dean commented, shuddering.

"No Romilda?" asked Harry. So that was Sylvia's mother's name, Albus thought. He could never remember.

"Under the weather, turns out," said Dean.

"Hmm… that's a fair excuse," said Harry, although there was something in his voice that signaled that he didn't quite buy it.

It was then that a girl wearing a pink dress stepped into the Potter House, looking thoroughly unhappy, her black hair arranged into shiny ringlets that looked like they had come a bit undone. She saw Albus in the corner of the staircase before any of the adults did, and instantly slid behind her father.

"Sylvia, dear, what's wr—" Dean cut himself off after setting his eyes on the staircase. "Oh. Hello, Albus. How long have you been there?"

Moments later, Albus and Sylvia were outside on the meadow. Apparently, the adults had to have some sort of private conversation over their tea. But supper was soon, the heat of the day had broken somewhat, and Albus was bored enough that he didn't protest.

"Ugh… my mum's so…" Sylvia finally said after a while. What, exactly, her mum was, Albus never found out, because she replaced whatever word she would have used with a loud groan of frustration. "I can't believe she made me wear this thing. 'You've got to look smart for your hosts, especially such an important family.' I don't even look 'smart.' I look like a bloody eight-year-old that's trying to dress up like a frumpy little princess."

She'd had her hair done for the occasion. It was still very curly, only much less wild. And her pink dress was rather frilly. Albus sniggered into his hand. The glare Sylvia shot him was horrifying.

"Don't start," she snarled.

"No… you're right," Albus backpedaled quickly. "It's revolting."

"It is, isn't it?" Sylvia said. For what it was worth, Albus thought she looked pretty; but he didn't dare say so. She looked ready to murder someone. "Thankfully, I planned ahead."

And with that, to Albus's great surprise and horror, she began stripping off the frilly pink dress right then and there. But to his great relief, it turned out she had been concealing a tee shirt and denim shorts the entire time. Albus, wearing jeans when it was quite hot outside, now felt like the one that was overdressed.

"But won't your mum…" Albus uttered nervously.

"I'll tell her I fell off Daddy's broom while we were landing," Sylvia said. "She didn't much like that idea, either, but Daddy wanted us to enjoy the countryside… say, where'd your brother and sister go?"

"James went over to our Gran's," Albus explained. "Lily… I think she's there, too – or somewhere else with the cat."

"You all have a cat?" Sylvia asked, smiling.

"Lily has a cat," Albus corrected her. "I thought I mentioned that."

"Oh," she said. "I always wanted a cat. We can't, though – turns out Mum's allergic. Starts sneezing like mad whenever one gets too close. Hey…"

Her eyes widened and a devious grin appeared on her face.

"Maybe I can rub the dress on the cat when we get back," she suggested. "Mum would probably burn it."

This got a laugh out of Albus. "That sounds like something Lily would do. She can be mischievous when she wants. She actually stole… something of mine earlier today. I've got to get it back if I can ever find out where she put it," he said quickly. He'd almost mentioned that it was Sylvia's birthday card. He wasn't sure how well that would have gone over with her.

They started meandering the meadow and hills between the Potter House and the Burrow (Sylvia expressed her amazement that something so old and rickety-looking could still be standing) rather aimlessly.

"Heard anything from Scorpius?" she asked as they started up the area's highest hill.

"Nothing," said Albus, feeling his disappointment afresh.

"I hear Gryffindor will have a new Quidditch captain this year," Sylvia remarked.

"Well, of course they will," Albus said. "Cole Murphy graduated."

"I wonder who it will be?" Sylvia asked. "Maybe Greta? It's been a while since a girl was Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor."

"Not that long, has it?" Albus asked. Sylvia shrugged her shoulders.

They reached the hill's peak and sat down. From here they could see the distant woods, and even a little bit of the mostly-Muggle village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"So are you still going to do the announcer thing?" he asked. With a sigh, Sylvia flopped back onto the soft grass.

"I decided not to," she said. "Not this year, anyway. Maybe next year or the year after… when I'm a little older."

"Why?" asked Albus, surprised. "I thought you were… good at it."

Sylvia smiled. "Thanks, Al. I don't know, it's just… I guess I feel a lot different since… you know… since I almost died."

And they had finally reached it – the pink elephant in the room, so to speak.

"But…" Albus uttered, not wishing to hear Sylvia talk with such gravity. "You weren't even hurt."

"Do you think that's normal?" asked Sylvia, her face now serious. "Those were… I was on fire, Al."

Albus's jaw dropped. All this time, he'd thought Sylvia had just found some sort of way to avoid the flames.

"The piece of the beam missed me… but the fire caught my robes," she said. "I should've been burned to death… or have some sort of burns somewhere, but… nothing."

She stretched out her golden-tan arms and legs. Indeed, no one would be able to tell that Sylvia Thomas had ever been caught in a raging inferno. Yet, at the end of last term, that had been exactly what had happened.

"What if I'm not normal, Al?" she asked, now sounding genuinely worried. "What if I have some sort of… power? Something beyond what's normal for a wizard? Most people don't like me anyway, and…"

"That's because they're stupid," Albus interrupted her, rather fiercely. "They don't really know you."

Sylvia, for once, went silent. That comment hung in the air for a moment.

"You're kind, Al," she said at last. "You've always been."

She sat up, her mane of black hair traveling behind her.

"Six whole weeks until we go back to Hogwarts," she said sadly. "I'm bored of summer already. Aren't you?"

Albus smiled appreciatively.

"We won't be new anymore," she said. "We'll be second years."

"I still barely know my way around the castle," Albus commented.

"I don't think all of the Professors know their way around the castle. It's a big place," Sylvia commented.

Then a voice rang across the fields. "Sylvia! Albus! Time for supper!"

Sylvia started to stand. "I'd better go back and get that dress before Dad finds it. I'll race you!"

Albus smiled. "You're on."

"Ready…" Sylvia said steadily. "Set…"

And then she pounced upon Albus, knocking him to the ground, and took off. Albus gathered himself – "Hey, no fair!" – and pursued her, following her swift feet and ringing laughter across the small meadow.

James

"What, does every Muggle in Britain have to take the train on the first of September?" Ginny Potter groaned. She was alone in leading her two sons to King's Cross this time around – Harry had been called on some sort of business and had been forced to say his good-byes earlier that morning as he left for London. James didn't mind. This was his third time, after all. He put up with his mum because he knew she would insist, but he didn't need both of them there. Albus appeared to be fine as well, a bit of extra bounce in his step as he rolled his trolley neck-and-neck with James. "This would be so much simpler without so many of them around – keep hold of those trolleys! We don't need you crashing into anything."

"Got it, Mum," James said, glancing askance at Albus. Why was Albus so excited? Granted, James was happy to be returning as well, but Albus (who was usually the more reserved of the two brothers) was doing a much worse job of hiding it.

At last they arrived at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. James pushed his trolley ahead just in time to see a familiar-looking mane of hair pass through the barrier in a small group. Without even waiting for his mother's word, he darted toward the apparently solid wall, no longer apprehensive of any impact. As soon as the Hogwarts Express came into sight, he temporary abandoned his trolley, turned right, and shouted:

"Murphy! OI!"

Murphy's longish, light brown hair flared out behind him as he whirled around. A smaller, somewhat more petite figure mirrored his action, as well as a tall man (whose hair did not flare out because he did not have enough of it). Richard Murphy, James's best mate since first year, came up to Harry at a jog, followed very closely by a girl James realized at a glance was his sister. James had completely forgotten about her…

"Bloody brilliant!" Murphy shouted as he approached, slapping James on the shoulder. "I had this mad dream last night – you weren't able to get through the barrier and had to make the trip to Hogwarts some other way."

"Like that would ever happen," James laughed.

Murphy set his eyes on the girl, who looked much like him, and said, "James, this is my sister, Anna. Anna, this is James Potter."

Anna's blue eyes widened at hearing the surname 'Potter', as James knew they would.

"So you're the son…"

"James Sirius Potter!" James's heart jolted as he whirled around. Albus was coming toward him along with their mother, who looked unhappy. "Don't run off like that without telling me where you're going!"

"Mum, I'm thirteen," James groused. "I've done this before, I'm not a baby—"

"Holy cricket!" Anna squealed, putting her hands to her mouth. "It's really you! Ginny Potter!"

James looked at Murphy with the same somewhat gobsmacked expression that Ginny was giving Anna. Both mother and son were thinking the same thing. They were used to Harry being recognized and approached like this in public, but it only ever happened to Ginny once in a blue moon, and never with this level of enthusiasm. Nevertheless, Anna jumped out in front of James to shake Ginny's hand.

"My name's Anna Murphy," she said hastily and breathlessly. "I'm a huge fan of yours, Mrs. Potter. I check the Daily Prophet every day for your Quidditch articles. Did you get the owl I sent you a few weeks ago asking about your thoughts on the Tornadoes this year? My brother, Cole, plays Keeper for them now."

James tried to keep his face neutral. Cole had been James's Captain last year, and a rather poor one at that. Moreover, it now occurred to James that Anna's outfit consisted rather intentionally of the two shades of blue that comprised the Tutshill Tornadoes colors.

"Cole Murphy? That does sound familiar…" Ginny mused. "Well, I got the letter, certainly… I don't normally answer mail from fans. Then again, most of it's from besotted men that want to ask me out for a lunch date, and either don't know or don't care that I'm a married woman with three children…" She shook her head and laughed. "At any rate, I'm meant to project each team's championship chances in the article I write in a couple of weeks. I'll address it then."

Anna grinned.

Ginny turned to James and Albus. "Well, James, Al… it's 10:48 now. Don't wait too long to get onto the train…"

Her expression changed slightly to one of shock right as James felt himself being nearly tackled to the ground. James had a feeling who it was, and knew for sure once he saw the dark red hair. Brynne Walter detached from him, wearing the warmest of smiles. She put her feet (mercifully still shod for now) to his feet and looked up at him.

"You've grown an inch or two since I saw you last, James…"

Indeed, James was in the middle of a growth spurt that his mother had termed his 'gangling Uncle Ron phase.' They'd had to go to Madam Malkin's to buy him new robes just last week. His old ones, which had fit perfectly last September, were now showing a bit of ankle. In an attempt. At a glance, James noted that Murphy must have grown taller as well. The difference between their heights was about the same as it had been last year.

"And who's this young lady?" Ginny asked curiously. It then occurred to James that his mum and Brynne had never met.

"My name's Brynne Walter," Brynne saved James the trouble by introducing herself. "James is a friend of mine."

"Is that so?" Ginny said. "Well, I'll trust you can help keep him out of trouble this year?"

Brynne grinned, blushing for one reason or another. "I'll try."

Ginny gave a short laugh. "Have a good term, son."

And, with a maddening raise of her eyebrows, she walked away and disappeared into the crowd.

"What was…" James muttered – but the loud clanging of a bell cut him off.

"Attention all Hogwarts students and staff – it is now 10:55. The Hogwarts Express will be leaving as scheduled in five minutes. Please make your way onto the train as soon as possible."

"Ah, alright…" James grunted. He caught sight of an auburn-haired girl in the crowd, hit Albus on the shoulder, and quickly said, "Hey, Al – there's Rose."

"C'mon, Anna, let's try to get a compartment," Murphy suggested. Anna nodded and the two ran off toward the train as well.

"So, how was home?" James asked, once the two were out of earshot.

"Home?" repeated Brynne, who looked like she'd had her mind elsewhere. "Oh… home was alright."

"No, I mean…" James lowered his voice. "Did you run into… him?"

"…He didn't come back," Brynne answered.

James's jaw dropped. "What do you mean, he 'didn't come back'?"

"He was a sixth year last year. I'll bet he turned seventeen before term was over," Brynne said. "If that's the case, he could go anywhere he wanted."

"Well, where do you think he went?" asked James as they made their way toward the train.

Brynne folded her arms. "Where do you think he went?"

James contemplated for a moment. "Isn't that against the rules somehow? For a professor and a student to live together if they're not related…"

"I'm not sure there is a rule… but I don't think they would have moved in together," Brynne replied. "Now, maybe someone put him up somewhere for a couple of months. Or maybe he got by traveling and doing odd jobs until it was time to come back. Some wizards that can't or won't get steady work make a living that way… but ironically, a lot of them settle down with us once they get older. The Orchard's got a lot of drifters that come through. Some of them stay. You know… maybe…"

"Hm?" uttered James.

"Maybe he didn't come back to school this year," Brynne said. "He could have decided to strike out on his own. Some wizards don't come back for their last year if they're of age already."

James frowned. "I doubt our luck's that good."

Brynne's hopeful smile faded. "Why do you say that?"

James pointed at another entrance to the train. "Because he's standing right there."

Boarding the train was a youth wearing a dark, collared dress shirt that recalled a vicar. He was tall and thin, and his dark brown hair had lengthened considerably and now sat in a short ponytail at the back of his head.

He was seventh-year Hufflepuff Morris Beal, a favorite student (some would use the word 'protégé') of Professor Malcolm, and, James was now reasonably sure, the most likely culprit for the fire in the Great Hall last year that had nearly killed James, his friends, and his family.

"What are the chances he keeps his head down just long enough to get through his N.E. ?" Brynne asked a bit bracingly. Beal, James could have sworn, shot them a look before entering the train. James grimaced.

"Not a chance in hell," he said.

Brynne let out a sigh, and then skipped through the train's doors, humming her version of the Hogwarts school song to herself.

Once inside, they tried to speed toward a compartment, but bumped into an older, dark-skinned girl.

"…Potter, was it? Cutting it awfully close, aren't you?" she asked. "You'd best find a compartment before this train starts moving in… a minute or so. Sorry – have we met, little girl?"

For Brynne had set one of her Avada Kedavra-level death glares on the older girl.

"Laurel Cross," she said with all the venom possible. "And you're a prefect this year – splendid. How's your sister doing?"

Laurel tilted her head. "What goes on with my sister is none of your business."

"I happened to like Lilith. She was nice," Brynne said. "She deserved better than what you lot did to her."

"Mind the way you talk to me," Laurel Cross replied, pointing at her two badges. One was the Hufflepuff badger emblem; directly above it was a gleaming silver 'P'. "As you so astutely pointed out, I'm a Hufflepuff Prefect now."

"And you only had to ruin your sister's life to get there," Brynne said. If it weren't for the fact that James felt Laurel Cross deserved everything she was getting from Brynne and then some, James would have stepped in to stop her. In all honesty, Brynne was really frightening him at the moment. He'd hardly ever seen her so angry.

"Strange," Laurel said with a mock airiness. "Even if I had done what you're accusing me of doing, I thought Slytherins valued that kind of ambition..."

"I don't care what House you're in," Brynne answered. "Only monsters sell out their own flesh and blood."

Laurel's nose wrinkled. "I don't approve of what happened, but it might be for the best… I'll thank you to mind your own business, though. That was always Lilith's problem. If she'd just stopped sticking her nose where it didn't belong…"

She shook her head. Was that regret on her face? Whatever it was, Brynne wasn't buying it.

"You make me sick," she said icily. "You were a disgrace to that badge from the moment you put it on."

Laurel smiled a very fragile smile. James saw her hand twitch and float just a bit…

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't," he said very quickly. Laurel's eyes widened for a brief second and then narrowed.

"Alright there?" Another girl's voice joined the conversation. "Wotcher, Cross? You're not bothering these two, are you? Head Pair wants all the junior Prefects in our compartment. You'd better get up there."

Laurel shot Brynne in particular a deadly glare before brushing past them.

"James," the remaining girl said with a smile.

James recognized her. "Greta. How was your summer?"

"Too short and too long," she sighed. "After those O.W.L.s – I managed six – I could have done without more books and studying for another month, but at least we'll be able to play Quidditch again. I've been named Captain this year, by the way."

"Wicked!" James exclaimed. "Think you'll be able to do both? Be a Quidditch Captain and a Prefect?"

"It's been done before, hasn't it?" asked Greta. "We're about to find out. You two had better find seats. Train's about to start moving."

And she passed them by as well.

"…Were you really ready to duel her?" Brynne asked once Greta was behind a door and out of earshot.

James didn't look at her. He really had been ready to take on a school prefect three years his senior to protect Brynne, and hadn't even given it a second thought. "It wouldn't have been much of a duel," he said, trying to distract himself from the sudden heat on his face. "She's got a slow draw. I could have Disarmed her if I needed. I don't think she was going to try anything, though. It's too close in here to start firing curses all over, even if she'd wanted to."

"Oi…" Murphy stuck his head out of a nearby compartment. "Are you two coming in or what?"

Brynne grinned and went first.

James smirked to himself as he settled into a seat. On the train ride home back in June, he'd predicted that Anna would join her brother, James, and Brynne in their compartment today. He'd chosen Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes as extra courses this year… but maybe, thought James, he would have been fair at Divination.

"So you're Murphy's baby sister," commented Brynne.

Anna smiled disapprovingly, if that was at all possible. "Baby? Is that what he's been telling you I am?"

James chuckled. Anna had spirit. She was going to fit right in.