Disclaimer: All you recognize from the original work belong to J.K. Rowling and her respective distributors, producers, and publishers. I play in the universe to stretch my writing muscles and to entertain others and myself. I do not profit from this work.

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Chapter Eighteen: The Most Magical Place on Earth

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Dear Daphne,

I hope you are enjoying your Yule. I know you were excited to go home and celebrate the season with your family. Please extend my wishes to your family for a blessed Yule to them all.

My own family celebrates both Islamic and Christian holidays, since my mother and father are of different faiths, so this time of year, we practice Christmastime traditions.

During this season, normally my grandmother comes over for tea before Christmas and decorates our home with dad. We always have a lovely Christmas dinner, and after, we play games, drink cocoa, watch television programmes together. Think a portrait, but each programme acts out a story, with musical accompaniment and dynamic scenery. On Boxing Day we visit my grandparents in the country, and the day after, we volunteer at a local charity.

This year they surprised us. I think they wanted to plan celebrations in a way that allowed Sirius and Remus to be more involved, so we went straight from the platform to a hotel in London, then abroad the next morning. I'm actually writing you from from the library of a resort in Florida, in the United States. We're going to visit Disney World, a sort of year-round themed park with rides, entertainment, and attractions. I've enclosed a brochure and map, since it's a little hard to describe, and I'm not sure if there's a magical equivalent. Please tell me if there is!

Magical travel is quite a bit more efficient than Muggle options. Muggles have invented mechanisms to transport hundreds of people via aeroplane; and while fairly comfortable, a flight from London to New York takes roughly eight hours. I'd never travelled by portkey before - only by floo and side-along apparition, but it cut down our travel time to just a few short hours, all told.

Dahlia seemed to enjoy the journey, except for the portkeys. While convenient, I agree with her opinion muggle transport are more comfortable, even if they do take longer. I'm glad we're sailing back.

I think this resort must be enchanted to help us adjust to the time difference, because we seem to have gotten over the jet lag, and tomorrow will be our first day at the park. Can you imagine what it could be like to combine the comforts of some muggle transportation ideas with magical ones? Brooms and magic carpets come to mind, but I wonder at what else could be done.

Despite the excitement, Dahlia's excitement seems to bloom in tiny spurts. She seems so unsure, and so exhausted, and I'm not sure what to do about it. Have your brother or sister ever experienced similar?

I think I may have an idea to help take some of the pressure off, but its execution may be a delicate matter. If it isn't too much to ask, would you possibly check out a library book or send me a publication about international and domestic publishing law under British and ICW regulation? The library here is not well-equipped for academic pursuits.

It does, however, have an excellent selection of French and American fashion editorials. I've enclosed several recent copies.

Missing you and hoping you're well,

Hermione Jean Granger

Hermione breathed out a long sigh, rest her pen in the coral and gold stand on the corner of her desk, and waved her hand gingerly over the expensive hand-pressed cotton stationery embossed with the resort's logo. The ink reluctantly faded from glistening black to deep curves of matte blue as it dried, and with a second application of the still-tedious charm, she folded her letter and a trifold Disney brochure into a neat parcel, which she slipped into a deep blue parchment envelope.

"Hermione?"

Dahlia pushed open the heavy, intricately carved door, and her eyes squinted a little at the bright light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows arcing out on the east side of the tower library, where the lagoon-filtered sunshine cast rippling blue patterns over the sumptuous leather furniture and polished hardwood floor.

"I'm coming," Hermione smiled, adding her missive to a short stack of letters and tucking them under her arm as she stood.

"Do you need to go back to the room?" Dahlia asked with a nod to the bundle.

"No, we can just drop them at the front desk. Let's go!"

She almost skipped ahead of Dahlia, speeding down the hallway. Her sister rolled her eyes as she jogged to catch up.

"Hermione!" Safiya softly scolded when they rounded the corner, the Slytherin's trainers squealing on the marble.

Dahlia caught up and snorted at her cowed expression as she passed her mail to the polished hostess sitting behind the sparkling countertop.

"Are you ready to go?" Safiya asked as she tucked a flyawy lock behind Dahlia's ear.

"Yes, mummy," she grinned. "I finished my letters to everyone. May I charge the postage to our account, Sirius?"

The wizard nodded to the receptionist, who had turned her head to him expectantly, too, and Hermione hugged him around the waist in response.

"Shall we?" Remus prompted, checking a well-worn wristwatch and nodding toward the open doors at the other end of the lobby, which looked out onto an inviting veranda bathed with early light.

The family walked after him, murmuring quiet thank-yous to Dan who began passing around tickets on a lanyard to everyone. Hermione couldn't help the swell of excitement building in her chest as she adjusted hers around her neck. She still couldn't quite believe they were under the lagoon. Her eyes kept turning appreciatively to the gorgeous construction of live coral and magic behind them, and the curious shadow of passing schools of fish as they cast cloud-like shadows through the magical bubble around their resort.

As they followed Remus' direction over the boardwalk toward a long pier, she couldn't help chattering a mile a minute to her sister about the numerous attractions she'd read about the previous evening.

Dahlia only managed to hum noncommittally at intervals, but Hermione didn't let her lack of enthusiasm stop her.

"I also read Mr Walt Disney and his head animator, Ub Iwerks, were a squibs, and that's part of why the company became so innovative. Magical portraiture with audible, interactive moving subjects has been around since the 1300s, whereas muggle film hadn't advanced as far as that. He secretly hired muggleborn wizards who went the uni route to help build his empire," she babbled. "Of course, a lot of the magical realism was scrapped in favor of familiarity for overwhelmingly muggle audiences, but there's some overlap. Like in Cinderella- The way they animated the mice turning into horses was certainly inspired by advanced transfiguration, and Bruno's transformation into a footman is very reminiscent of an animagus', minus the sparkle."

Dahlia's face whipped around, and her somewhat glassy green eyes focused on her so intently, Hermione stopped mid-rant.

"What's wrong?" she said when the girl didn't explain her reaction.

"What'd you say about mice?"

"That they'd inspired parts of Cinderella?"

Dahlia frowned.

"No, not that. Why would an animagus ever choose to be a mouse? I thought wizards would pick bigger things."

Hermione blinked and tried to tuck a frizzed, kinky curl into her plait, but the humidity made it spring back out.

"I didn't. I'd just said Bruno the dog's transformation, was like an animagus'." she corrected matter-of-factly. "But I definitely read animagi can be mice. Actually, one has little choice over the matter. The animagus discovers her form through a process which reveals her natural affinity-"

She frowned, zeroing in on the Gryffindor's face.

"Are you quite all right?"

Dahlia's pale features pinched, and she rubbed her forehead over her eye.

"Never mind," she muttered before rushing a couple steps ahead to walk alongside Remus. "Aren't we going the wrong way for the shuttle?"

"We're not taking the shuttle," he smiled, the silvery scars in his cheeks and forehead deepening with the curl of his lip. "We're traveling by Nautilus."

"Like in 20,000 Leagues under the Sea," Dan added excitedly, gesturing to a short line of fellow early-risers.

Sure enough, a finned, victorian-looking submarine with rounded eyes at its front breached the water there. An oxidized, green hatch stood open behind its angular head, where a railed, navy-carpeted, gangplank extended to the line of witches and wizards queuing at the end of the pier. One-by-one, they crossed the bobbing footbridge and disappeared into the vessel.

"Isn't that a bit conspicuous?" Dahlia wondered as she gripped the rail, looking askance at the dark opening behind the bulkhead.

Hermione nudged her gently from behind, and the girl reluctantly into the shadows.

"I did try to tell you," Hermione enthused, following quickly after her. "The magical entrances all connect with rides or bathrooms. This one ought to pop up at the end of the ride in the park, so no one notices people coming in from a different way. It just looks like we're getting off the ride."

Dahlia didn't reply. She had stopped at the bottom of a short stairway, eyes wide. They and the other passengers gathered in a plush wheelhouse resplendent in polished brass, shining glass instruments, and a handful of witches and wizards all dressed in pressed navy uniforms and patent black boots. Dahlia felt Hermione press closer to her, and she shuffled closer to the center of the room, where the shining rail of a lacy spiral staircase created a gap in the small crowd of tourists. As the door clanked shut, an older gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair and beard stepped forward with his thumbs stuck in his pockets and elbows at his sides.

"Good morning. My name is Captain Nemo. Today, we will be ferrying guests from this magical paradise to the Magic Kingdom and back to Atlantica throughout the day," he introduced cheerfully, affecting a badly-done brogue Sirius snickered at.

"Alternative return points are available at the main entrance from Main Street U.S.A., which I'm told can be found by venturing through the Magic Kingdom, according to my scouts," he continued with a wink. "Now, if you will proceed down the stairs and to the Salon, our wonderful galley has prepared some coffee, tea, and light refreshment for your enjoyment as we journey to the surface. Professor Aronnax has also made himself available to regale those interested with the facts of his explorations, scientific knowledge, and information about our destination. He will also assist any of you with transfiguring your clothes, if necessary."

He paused to eye a few of the older guests meaningfully.

Sirius snickered at the mishmash of parachute pants and silky pajama shirt one old man wore.

"With that, I welcome you aboard the Nautilus."

The tourists lightly applauded their appreciation, and amid a sudden flurry of barked orders, the vessel began to sink below the surface. A crew member guided them down the stairs, and it was all Dahlia could do to keep from pressing her hands against the enormous, multi-paned window looking out into the water as the submarine dove. Sirius showed no such restraint, leaning over her head to squint into the sun-streaked blueness stretching out into the distance, where the light faded entirely into a dark, horizonless smear as they sank deeper and deeper.

The passengers' excited chatter softened to a murmur as the shafts of sun thinned and the glass ceiling overhead became an opaque mirror. With an electric hum, greenish beams came to life to cast ghostly light over vast shapes outside. The girls ignored the tea toast, and pastries in favor of watching rock formations, shipwrecks and schools of silvery fish flit past. Safiya joined them after a while, and they stood framed in one window together, quietly listening and watching the brief flashes of underwater life while Dan and some other guests peppered the professor with questions. At a cue only he seemed to anticipate, he suddenly stood and gestured his small audience to look through the portholes, as well.

"We're now passing through the undersea caves connecting Atlantica's enchanted bay to our berth within Fantasy Land. The nonmaguique have no access to these ingenious secret places, but those with a good eye can always find the true magic of this Kingdom hidden-"

He paused dramatically, and the craft tipped slightly.

"-in plain sight!"

Just as quickly as the water darkened, a flood of tiny bubbles engulfed the windows. A series of bells and whistles rang from the wheelhouse up the stairs, and the craft rocked as sunshine flooded the salon and the water retreated on all sides. A strange, clanking noise echoed through the vessel, and the Captain's voice echoed tinnily through some open pipes framing the organ at the back of the room.

"Land ho! All hands, report to duty stations and prepare passengers for disembarkment."

…

Peter did not enjoy his trip, stowed away with the rats shipped from the Magical Menagerie to New York City. He enjoyed his portkey to Florida even less, although Malfoy's condescending charity in procuring him a forged passport and wand permit via some shady American business associates certainly made the affair somewhat less uncomfortable than being surrounded by the smell of rat urine.

He did not like humidity, and in his condition, heat was a torture he could not abide neither as human nor rat. Still, he had been tasked with a specific purpose, and he would not fail. He could not.

So he waited, secreted beneath a shrubbery near the ridiculous submarine attraction, until finally, he caught the child's scent, and the unmistakable pull of dark magic. A family separated from a flood of shorts-wearing parkgoers exiting the 20,000 Leagues attraction, and Wormtail nearly shivered at the strange feeling of repulsion and magnetism he felt tugging at his insides.

Dahlia Evans Potter looked different than he last recalled. Better rested, although the shadows under her eyes suggested not much better, and her skin although still quite paler, seemed healthier against her loose green and white tee and denim shorts.

As usual, gazing at her made his bones and teeth ache, and he sorely hoped the modest improvement to her condition would not last.

"Where are we going first?" he heard her ask somewhat dazedly after blinking around.

The woman in the headscarf beside her smiled and took her hand.

"Its up to you girls. As long as we find someplace quiet and private for Salah, I'm quite happy to follow along with what you want to do," she said, giving Sirius an amused look. "I think this one's done almost as much research as you, Hermione, so maybe you two can navigate today, and perhaps Dahlia, Remus and Daddy can lead the way tomorrow."

Peter shuddered and shrank further into the foliage. He'd worried about that when he'd learned where the girl had gone. He begrudgingly admitted he'd hoped the trip had been orchestrated by the muggles, but Sirius was one to maintain strange interests in inferior amusements now and then, and he'd smelled Sirius on some of the girl's post since he began watching her. It wouldn't do to be seen by him, or - Merlin Forbid - smelled by Remus.

For the first time since his arrival, he felt glad of the crowd of people already populating the park, and the cacophony of food smells filling the damp, heavy air.

The family set off, and Peter followed, diving into a storm drain and scurrying after the distinct cadence of their feet overhead and the push-pull of the girl's tainted magic.

…

Hermione took her goals very seriously, so it was with great enthusiasm and determination that she linked elbows with Dahlia and dragged her to stop number 1 in her systematic plan to raise her sister's adrenaline and serotonin levels, thereby (hopefully) breaking through the fog that seemed to cling to her.

"Dumbo the Flying Elephant," barely achieved a pinched smile.

Belatedly, Hermione admitted a girl accustomed to flying 60+ miles per hour through the sky probably wouldn't find the easy, mechanical up-and-and-down rotation very exciting, but counted stop 1 a success if only because Dahlia held her father's hand to climb in and out, and called him "Dad."

She deducted a point from her mental tally for "It's a Small World," because the animatronic puppets within and the too-catchy tune they sang hurt Remus' ears, annoyed Dahlia, and got stuck in her head. Dan, ever undaunted and delighted by such things, took to humming it off-and-on with Sirius.

The Haunted Mansion, however, delighted them all. Hermione and Dahlia both giggled at the overlaps between the ride's features and Hogwarts, and Safiya's wonder grew as she realized ghosts were a reality for them.

"But what is a wizard's ghost?" she whispered to Remus, who had become her favorite resource of magical academic inquiry aside from regular trips to Flourish and Blotts. "It can't be a soul."

"No, it's more an impression of one's magic than anything, from my understanding," he explained. "A little something left behind. It's not 100% proven, so to speak, but it is generally accepted that in death, a wizard's soul moves on."

The girls, however, were more interested in the ride itself. Dahlia loved the suspense, the theatrics, and the setting, while Hermione marveled at the technologies used to create the effects.

Peter Pan's flight wasn't quite as exciting, though Dahlia seemed charmed by the idea of swooping through the air unsupported.

"How would you do it, though?" Sirius teased good-naturedly.

"How'd you make the bike fly?" she countered. "Maybe I could make a flight suit!"

"Not rigid enough, prongslet," Remus said as they followed the Grangers into The Mad Hatter shop, where the family immediately gravitated toward mickey-eared caps. "The bike took a lot of runes to make it run that way. Any distortion hurts the runes."

"But what about mum's sticky runes?"

Sirius snorted and dropped a hat with a scarlet bow on Dahlia's head. She grimaced, but allowed him to adjust the silly thing just because of the delight on his face.

"I didn't realize you'd started playing with those. They'll stop working if you fold or destroy the paper. The ink has inflexible, straight fibres in it to stiffen the rune once dried," thed werewolf explained, smirking as he snapped a photo with the disposable camera Safiya had gifted him that morning. "You couldn't do the same thing with cloth."

Dahlia frowned.

"I think you just don't want me trying it out," she said a little snippily, exchanging her Mouseketeer cap for a maroon, billed baseball cap with a simple Mickey silhouette on the bill.

"By all means, go for it," Sirius interjected before Remus could protest. "Just wear protective gear so Saf doesn't skin us alive, yeah?"

The taller man gently tugged her messy ponytail through the gap in the back of her hat and dropped a kiss on her crown.

She glared at them both on the way out of the shop, and didn't stop through Liberty square, much to Hermione's frustration. Her return to angst was destined to be short-lived, however. Between her sister's determination to drag her onto every ride available, her family's gentle affection, some quiet meditation while Safiya's prayed Salah, and yet more excitement, it was impossible for her to remain withdrawn.

The whisper at the back of her mind hissing guilt-ridden admonishments to her sputtered and died beneath the squeals of joy, laughter, and love surrounding her all day, and when she laid her head down that night, she slipped immediately into soft, sweet dreams.

…

Author's Notes

Sorry this took so long to get out. My heart goes out to anyone else struggling with their mental health. This stinks in a gigantic way.

Also, on a very serious note, prior to posting this chapter I noticed a very nasty review showcasing some spectacular ignorance. I'm not going to dignify the poster (whom I've reported) by quoting them, but I wanted to take a moment to challenge all of you wonderful readers out there.

If you see or hear racism, bigotry, or hate, even if it's not directed at any particular person- Even if it's a casual "joke" made out of hand- It is your responsibility to say something in the moment against it. Speak out, because the silence of too many good people has allowed that ignorance to flourish. When racists are told by friends that their behavior is unacceptable, they listen a lot better than when the people they scorn say something.

We are all citizens of the world, all deserving of equality, dignity and the right to live our lives in peace. Be a part of the solution. Every time you choose to do nothing, you've picked a side. Make sure it's the right one.