1. The Visitors

Fine white feathers of cloud hung, unmoving, in the azure sky. The trees were still and silent. No wind blew, no leaves rustled, no creatures stirred. Drakeshaugh Wood was unusually quiet. The only noises were the occasional snatch of birdsong, and the intermittent tap of a woodpecker.

Albus Potter crept cautiously through the undergrowth, slipping slowly across the sun-dappled floor of the forest. He was, he was certain, being as stealthy and silent as a shadow. He was distracted when a solitary magpie hopped into view. Remembering the song Mrs Charlton often sang, he looked around for another. Unfortunately, the bird seemed to be alone. One for sorrow! There was no sign of two for joy. His search had to end when the sound of an approaching car reminded him of his mission. Fortunately, he had almost reached the large conker tree.

Forgetting his search for a second magpie, he ran to the proud old horse-chestnut that stood straight and tall, right next to the impassable barrier between the track and Al's home. The tree house was the only place where it was possible to get high enough to see over the thick and prickly boundary hedge. The crackle of tyres on gravel and the purr of the engine were increasing in volume. Speed, not silence, was essential. Al scampered up the rough ladder and scrambled onto the platform of planks.

Curling his hands into Omnioculars, Al watched the car as it passed on the other side of the hedge. This was it—they had arrived! A car full of Muggles was about to enter a magical area. They had no idea of the dangers they faced. They must be protected, and who better to do it than the famous Auror, Al Potter? Time was of the essence.

Al turned and, ignoring the ladder, he bravely jumped the four feet down from the tree house. Leaping sideways, he stumbled and rolled into the soft leaf mulch under the tree, finishing his spectacular dive in the spiky undergrowth of the hedgerow. As he pulled himself out from the brambles, he scratched himself on some thorns. Ignoring those minor injuries, he reached into the waistband of his shorts.

His wand was broken in half! He must have snapped it when he'd jumped and rolled into cover. Fortunately, he soon found another wand lying under the trees. Holding this new wand tightly, he sprinted through the trees, hoping to beat the car to its destination.

He raced through the forest, leaping tree roots and dodging nettles until, eventually, he reached the gates. At that point, a rough dry-stone wall curved out from the undergrowth and swept around to the gate into Drakeshaugh.

The fearless Auror kept close to the wall as it curled around to the gate. There was a narrow gap in the coping stones and, standing on tiptoe, he peered through it and into the gravel courtyard. As Al gazed out into the open area in front of his home, Drakeshaugh, he saw that the car had stopped. The unsuspecting occupants were already getting out. Al pressed closer to the wall and tried to listen to the conversation.

'Thank you so much, Ginny. Henry's really looking forward to the sleepover. Annie is…' Mrs Charlton didn't complete that sentence, but Al saw her shoulders rise. 'I've given them both a talking-to. I'd like to think they'll be on their very best behaviour…' She stopped again. This time she threw her hands up into the air. Ginny, who was Al's mummy, laughed and hugged Mrs Charlton.

'They've been visiting for almost two years, Jacqui. We've looked after them before. They know us, and we know them. They'll be fine, I'm certain of it.'

'They've never stayed overnight.' Mrs Charlton opened the hatchback. She was reaching inside when Mr Charlton intervened.

'I'll take those, Jacqui,' Mr Charlton told her. Lifting one of the bags, he groaned. 'I've no idea what you've packed, but it feels like Henry's overnight bag is full of bricks.'

'Henry!' Al heard his brother's shout echo across the courtyard. 'Come with me—I've been making a secret den, I'll show you! It's this way! Come on!'

Through the gap in the wall Al saw Henry look questioningly at his mummy. Mrs Charlton smiled and nodded. Henry dashed off after James.

'Oi!' Henry's dad shouted. 'Hold on a minute, young Master Henry John Charlton… haven't you got anything to say to your precious and most beloved parents before you go dashing off into the woods with James Potter?'

Henry didn't even slow down. 'ByeMumanDad. Seeyertermorra,' he shouted over his shoulder as he sprinted into the trees after James.

'Well!' Mr Charlton said. 'He's obviously going to miss us.'

Al continued to watch. Mrs Charlton picked up Annie and followed both Mr Charlton and his Mum into the house. Al was wondering where his daddy was when, just behind him, a twig broke. Auror Al Potter whirled around and raised his wand.

'Stupefy,' he shouted. His father staggered back against the huge old oak next to the wall and slid down it, head bend forwards.

'You got me, Al,' his father told him, lifting his head and smiling. 'Fast reactions, well done, but we have visitors. We should go and say hello to them.'

Harry Potter held out his hand and smiled at his younger son. Al said nothing. He simply watched his father.

'What's the matter, Al? You wouldn't tell me at bath time last night. Was that because James was there, too?'

After a moment of hesitation, Al Potter nodded.

'Sometimes, when James and Henry get together, they're a bit much for you, aren't they?' Daddy asked. Al nodded again, and his dad sighed sadly.

Al didn't hate Henry Charlton, he could be a lot of fun, and sometimes they had great adventures. The problem was that, whenever James was with Henry he wasn't completely James. Daddy said that James was just showing off, that he was trying to be clever in front of his Muggle friend. Daddy said that, really, James was being silly and not being clever at all. But often, when Henry was around, James would ignore Al. Henry was going to be spending the night.

'You've been crawling in the brambles again, haven't you?' his daddy asked.

Again, Al nodded.

'Don't worry, Al. You aren't in trouble.' His father smiled kindly, pulled out his wand and proceeded to heal Al's scratched arms and clean up his muddy t-shirt. 'There you are, all better. Let's go and see Mr and Mrs Charlton, and Annie. Annie looks a little nervous. She's probably worried, because tonight she won't be sleeping in her own room, in her own house. We'll need to be especially nice to her. Will you help me up, please?'

His father held out his hands and Al took them and pulled. It was a game, Al knew. His daddy could easily get up by himself, but he often pretended to need Al's help. Once he was standing, Daddy kept hold of Al's left hand as they walked around the wall and towards the house.

'By the way,' Harry told Al in a whisper, 'Statute of Secrecy, remember! Do you want me to hide your wand for you?'

Al looked at the mud encrusted oak twig in his hand and threw it onto the ground. 'No, thanks, Daddy, I can easily find another one, the woods are full of them. I won't say nothing to the Muggles, I promise,' he said earnestly.

'I know, Al, thank you,' Harry told his younger son. 'But, remember…'

'Don't call them Muggles,' said Al. 'I know, Daddy.'

'Good boy, and it's "I won't say anything", not "I won't say nothing". Please don't pick up your brother's bad habits.'

As he strolled back towards the large stone farmhouse he'd made his home, Harry Potter looked down thoughtfully at his younger son. Al was nowhere near as outgoing as his brother, which was a blessing in many ways. When Al found himself in trouble, it was usually because he'd been following James, or worse, James and Henry.

Harry often worried that his eldest was naughty and unruly, not well-behaved, like Al. James was certainly more disruptive, and much louder than Harry had ever been.

Ginny assured her husband that, from her perspective, James was normal, even polite, and that Al was very shy and extremely quiet. Harry always tried to remember that Ginny was comparing James' behaviour to that of her brothers, while Harry's viewpoint was coloured by the very different expectations of the Dursleys.

Henry Charlton and James Potter had met on James' first day at his Muggle school, and they had become firm friends. Unlike his brother, Al's first term at the school had not been such a great success. He'd started after Easter, attending for mornings only. Admittedly he hadn't been going to school for long but, unlike his brother, Al still had no best friend. He didn't even have any close friends. Both Harry and Ginny worried about him.

The Potters discussed their children daily, or, more accurately, nightly. The only time they had for private conversation was after the kids were in bed, when they were relaxing in each other's arms, talking about their very different days. Ginny was very worried about Al's lack of friends. Harry, who'd had no real friends until he was eleven, was less concerned.

Al certainly seemed happy enough in his own company. Harry recognised the make-believe games of a lonely little boy. He knew, however, that he could do no more than encourage his son to make new friends. Ginny was concerned that James was preventing Al from doing so. Unfortunately, Harry knew all about that possibility, too. On the day school broke up for the summer, their friend Jacqui Charlton—Henry's mum—had tried to reassure Ginny by comparing Al's situation with that of her own son.

Henry started at Easter, too, Ginny,' Jacqui said reassuringly. 'He was the odd one out, and I was worried. After the summer holidays, he didn't want to go back. But when he did, he met James. That was the best thing that ever happened to him, and to me!'

'Apart from meeting Mike?' Ginny asked.

'Ask me that another day,' Jacqui grumbled. 'Preferably on a day when he hasn't just accepted a wedding invite from his sister.'

Walking into the stone-floored kitchen of Drakeshaugh, Harry smiled a welcome at the parents of his eldest son's best friend. Jacqui and Mike Charlton, particularly Jacqui, were regular visitors. Jacqui, a broad-shouldered woman with light brown hair, was four or five inches taller than Ginny. As they entered, she smiled a greeting at Harry and Al. Mike, a burly six-footer with receding fair hair, had placed two overnight bags on Harry's huge kitchen table. Jacqui, who in less than two years had become Ginny's running partner and best Muggle friend, was apologising for something. Harry wasn't sure what, but their rangy neighbour was often saying sorry for little reason.

'Hello, Mike, Jacqui…' Harry nodded at the visitors. 'Hi Annie.' He waved at the uncharacteristically quiet little girl. 'Al wasn't lost, he was playing in the woods,' Harry told his wife.

Releasing his younger son, Harry watched Al wander across to join Lily and Annie. The two girls were sitting on the floor and pulling stuffed toys from a pink rucksack. As they appeared, Annie announced the name of every one.

'Hello, Harry, hi, Al,' said Mike Charlton. He pulled a silly face and waved to Al.

'Hello, Henry's dad,' Al said, waving back.

Harry noticed Annie's face fall at Al's greeting and so, apparently, did Mike.

'Henry's dad?' said Mike slowly and carefully. 'If you want, Al, you can call me by my real name.' He lowered his voice to a mock whisper, making certain that he was speaking loudly enough for his daughter to hear. 'You can call me Annie's dad! Okay?'

'Okay, Annie's dad,' said Al, smiling. Annie smiled too. Harry noted the effect Mike's words had on the little girl. That was a parenting trick he would remember.

Harry watched as Al thrust his hands in his pockets and looked down at the stuffed toys. Mike Charlton followed, hunkered down, and made a fuss of his daughter and the two younger Potter children. Jacqui, meanwhile, was talking to Ginny. They were organising. Harry listened to their conversation, but simply let them get on with it.

'This is all of Henry's stuff, and this is Annie's, obviously,' said Jacqui. It was obvious. Henry's bag was camouflage greens and military-looking, where Annie's was pink and flowery.

'Henry will probably tell you that he's allowed to stay up until nine o'clock. He isn't. Bedtime is eight, and Annie goes half an hour before he does,' explained Jacqui. She looked around and made certain that Annie wasn't listening. 'Actually, you can get them both to bed earlier, if you want. All that really matters to Henry is that he stays up later than his sister.'

'James is exactly the same,' Ginny said. 'Don't worry, Jacqui. They'll be fine. It's only for one night. You and Mike go and enjoy yourselves at this wedding.'

Jacqui curled a lip, then frowned. 'I'll do my best, but you know I've never really got on with Mike's sister. At our wedding she got extremely drunk and told me that Mike could have done a lot better. We've hardly spoken since, and I don't think that she really wanted me there. I'm certain that's why she said "no children" on the invitation.'

Ginny nodded sympathetically. 'No children!' she tutted, making her disapproval of that ridiculous restriction obvious.

'We've only met the bloke she's marrying once. His name's Richard, and he's a snooty southerner.' Realising what she'd said, Jacqui sighed. 'It's the snooty part I object to,' she back-pedalled frantically. 'And Devon's not south, not really, it's West Country, that's very different to London.'

Harry caught Mike Charlton's eye, and noisily cleared his throat. Jacqui's husband burst out laughing. 'When you're in a hole, Jacques,' he advised his wife, 'stop digging.' Standing, Mike turned to address the Potters. 'My sister, bless her, has turned her back on her roots. I love her dearly, but she's trained herself to talk like a southerner, and she's getting married to a city gent who hates being called Dick. I don't think she wants her daft Geordie bumpkin of a brother, or his lovely missus, at the wedding. Today is going to be—interesting.'

'So, why invite you?' Ginny asked

'Her big city friends know she has parents, and a brother. She has to conform. Not inviting me would be scandalous,' Mike said. 'She wanted the wedding in London, too, but Mum put her foot down. Even so, it's still in the deep south.'

'I thought it was York,' Ginny said.

'Merchant Adventurers Hall, yeah.' Mike grinned. 'That is the deep south. Is there civilisation south of York?'

'He's incorrigible, isn't he?' Ginny asked. 'No shame.'

'He is,' Jacqui agreed. 'By saying "no kids" she probably thought we'd say no. I bet she was surprised when she got our RSVP.'

'Horrified!' Mike confirmed. 'She knew that my in-laws are visiting Jacqui's sister in New Zealand.'

'She probably thought that I had no one else to look after the kids overnight,' Jacqui added. 'Anyway, we really should be going. Thank you so much for volunteering to look after the kids, Ginny. You, too, Harry. You should have everything you need, I hope. There are three complete changes of clothes in Henry's bag and two in Annie's, just in case.'

'Thanks Jacqui. We'll probably need them for Henry, I'm afraid,' Ginny told her. 'James' "secret den" is in some tree roots next to Drakestone Burn. It's a little way downstream of the clearing where we had our picnic last month. I expect that they'll both come back wet and dirty. They won't come to any harm, but it's a really secret den. It's so secret that I "really truly do not know" where it is, so I can't possibly have told you, okay?'

Jacqui smiled and nodded. 'If they came back clean and dry, that would be a real surprise. Henry will be fine with James, I know that.' She caught Ginny's eye and nodded towards her daughter, who was whispering to her father with trembling-lipped uncertainty. 'But, Annie is rather worried. She'll be sharing with Lily, won't she?

'Yes,' Ginny confirmed. 'And Henry will be in with James. Unless they make too much noise, in which case we'll move James in with Al.'

'Does Lily have many soft toys? I restricted Annie to six.' Jacqui indicated the two bears, panda, elephant, clown, and rag-doll now sitting on the floor. 'She'd have brought her entire collection if I'd let her.'

'Lily has dozens. She has five uncles, remember?' Ginny smiled. 'She will be fine, we'll look after her. Harry and I have decided to take the kids up to the Drakestone for a picnic lunch, and then on to Harbottle Lough, if that's okay?'

'That's a good idea; tire them out.' Jacqui smiled and looked out of the kitchen windows. 'It looks like you'll have a good day for it.'

'Come on Jacqui, you're right, it's time we were leaving,' Mike Charlton announced. 'Will you come and wave us off, little Annie?'

Annie's lower lip began to quiver and her eyes filled with tears.

'We can go an' wave at them from a tree house if you want Annie,' Al offered. 'We can wave to 'em here, then runanrun an' get to a tree house 'fore they get there.'

'Get to the tree house,' Ginny corrected.

'Bet you can't,' Mike said. 'Little girls can't run faster than a car.' Annie looked at Al, who nodded.

'Can!' Annie announced excitedly.

Mike Charlton looked to Harry for advice.

'Enjoy the wedding, Mike,' Harry said. 'And don't drive too fast.' He winked at Mike.

'If you can run faster than the car, I'll bring you a present back,' Mike told his daughter.

'Yay!' said Annie, smiling excitedly. 'Bye, Mummy, bye, Daddy, see you tomorrow.'

Mike and Jacqui Charlton kissed their daughter, shouted 'Bye Henry,' into the woods, and climbed into their car. Mike had just finished turning the car when James and Henry dashed into the gravel yard. They arrived just in time to join the others in waving to the departing Charltons.

As Mike drove through the gate and turned onto the track which led to the road, Harry turned to Al and said, 'Go!'

Al and Annie ran around the gable of the house and into the woods. As Harry scooped up Lily and followed, he noticed that Mike had slowed his car to walking pace.

'What's happening?' James demanded.

'We're going to wave again, from the tree house,' said Ginny.

'This way,' James yelled, and Harry heard James and Henry approaching rapidly from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Ginny striding along at the rear.

Thanks to Mike's slow driving they made it in plenty of time. They were all standing on the platform outside the tree house, waving, as Mike and Jacqui drove past.