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Papa's Love

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In the home of one judge Evans there was a muffled scream and padding of small feet across the hardwood floor. Soon a child knocked on the bedroom door fervently, trying to get to his mother.

 

“Mamma!” the child called.

 

The doors opened and a tall man with broad shoulders, caramel hair and vivid green eyes stepped out. Looking down on the child in front of him, he noticed the small trembling of the boys’ tiny frame, and the man frowned.

 

“What is it, Victor?” the man asked the boy impatiently.

 

“Where’s mamma? I want to see mamma!” the boy cried out to his father.

 

The man looked at the boy again and after a long second closed his eyes and sighed. He slowly opened the door to the bedroom and stepped aside so the boy could come in. Once the door opened the boy rushed to see his mother, who was on the bed breathing heavily with a hand over her heart. Once the boy was at the foot of the bed she noticed him standing there and trembling ever so slightly in the darkness.

 

“Mamma?” the boy called out quietly.

 

“I’m fine, sweetie. Just a bad dream.” She told the child so she could comfort him, “A really bad dream” she continued and held out her pale arms to the boy so she could hug him.

 

The boy rushed into his mother’s awaiting arms and as soon as he felt, or rather heard her heartbeat he calmed down. The man stood at the door, watching the exchange silently with a frown. As soon as he saw his son nestle himself into the woman’s embrace so they could sleep, he sighed and closed the door. As he started walking towards the bed to join his family and return to sleep he heard his son’s voice.

 

“Papa, you’re not mad, are you?” the boy asked timidly.

 

The man sighed again and almost pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Dealing with this particular six year old was very hard unless the mother of the boy in question was present. He could already feel the headache coming.

 

“No, Victor, Papa’s not mad.” The man said in almost strained voice that the woman noticed.

 

“Nate, come to bed” she told him gently and then turned to the boy, “and you go to sleep, you shouldn’t be awake at this hour anyway” she softly reprimanded the boy.

 

“’Kay” the boy muttered and yawned, “Night, mamma. Night, papa” and with that the boy was asleep.

 

The woman chuckled and the man smiled indulgently. And with that the house of one judge Evans was asleep once again.

 

It was one of those days. After a night like the one before the mornings were a little strained. Judge Evans had his breakfast and morning tea and left for work after the family morning ritual. It was a Saturday but he still had a trial.

 

The trial was that of public against Jacoby Smith for killing a man. The odds were in his favor because the man he killed was homosexual, but if the prosecution plays their cards wright and accuse him of orphaning a child, they just might get a chance to win.

 

Since it was a Saturday, Victor stayed at home with his mother who, for all her aristocratic looks and behavior, liked to experiment in the kitchen.

 

It was around noon when Emily Evans looked up from one of the new recipes she had been looking at and saw the time. She heard the door open and patter of small feet across the floor coming into the living room. She glanced at the door separating the living room she was in and the hallway. Her son was standing just inside the room looking nervous.

 

“Victor? What is it, darling?” she asked the now shifting boy.

 

“Umm… Can you help me put the toys away, mamma?” the little boy asked quietly.

 

Emily smiled. It was always so amusing to see her little boy worked up over something, so worried and exited at the same time.

 

“Of course I can, love.” Emily assured him, “Come along now. It’s time for us to clean the front yard.”

 

Victor just smiled and followed his mother out the front door to put his toys away. He was six now, a big boy; or so papa said. And he was supposed to put his toys away alone by now, but some of the toys are big for him and they have just moved here and he didn’t know what went where. All he did know, though, was not to go near papa’s shed or go into papa’s office without inviting him.

 

It took them a few minutes to put the toys away. After that job was done they started going into the house. Once inside Victor started talking to his mother.

 

“Mamma, can I have a snack now?” he asked hopefully with wide grey eyes.

 

“Yes, you can.” She said ruffling his hair that was so much like his father’s, “Let’s get you a snack.” She continued leading him to the kitchen.

 

Emily was making a snack for them while Victor chattered happily.

 

“…and then I saw this kitty reading a map.” He stopped when he saw his mother tense.

 

“Mamma?” he carefully called her.

 

She shook her head and smiled down at the boy.

 

“That sounds interesting. You could write a story about it for papa.” She said.

 

“That’s a great idea!” Victor exclaimed in his child like wonder, “And I’ll write a funny story so papa will laugh.” He said determinately, “and you too.” He turned to his mother.

 

The rest of the noon went by peacefully. Victor did his homework that Emily shook her head to but agreed to the idea of teaching them responsibility and time management, but they’ll never see it that way.

 

It was around three o’clock when the doorbell rang. Emily calmly walked to open the door. She expected maybe one of her gossiping neighbors of Privet Drive, but who she saw was a short woman with graying hair, conservative older suit and red and puffy eyes. The woman had obviously been crying.

 

“Can I help you?” Emily asked the small woman politely.

 

The woman sniffed and nodded her head.

 

“I hope so” the woman said, her voice cracking, “I’m Holly Spencer and I’m looking for Emily Grey. Are you her?” she asked.

 

“I used to be, I’m Emily Evans now.” Emily told the woman, “How can I help you?” she asked again and then her eyes widened as if she remembered something, “Oh my, where are my manners. Please come in.” she ushered the woman inside the house.

 

The old woman, Holly, kept her eyes wide open and stared at Emily while going into the living room.

 

“Evans?” the woman asked shocked, “Are you the wife of Judge Evans?”

 

Emily gave her a wry smile, “Yes I am” she said, “What has Nathaniel done now?” she asked.

 

“Oh, he hasn’t done anything offensive. Don’t worry.” The old woman told Emily, “However I heard about a good attorney that could help me.” She explained.

 

“I’m sorry, but I’m not an attorney anymore. I’ve retired.” Emily told the woman with a small smile directed at a picture if a small boy who looked just like his father with his mother’s eyes.

 

“I know, I’ve heard.” Holly nodded, “But I was hoping to ask you to help me, this one last time. Please.” By the end Holly sounded desperate.

 

“Well, it depends, but I’ll try” Emily told her after thinking a little.

 

“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.” Holly kept repeating.

 

“Don’t thank me yet. “ She informed the old woman, “So, let’s see this case. What can you tell me?” And so began the last legal case of Emily Evans, formerly Gray. But that is another story of its own.

 

Suffice to say is that the case judge Nathaniel Evans presided over was the case Emily became prosecutor for, since Holly’s son was the homosexual father who was murdered. Of course Emily won her last case, but it wasn’t easy. After all judge Evans was never an easy man to please and he was always harder on Emily than any other attorney. Why, because Emily’s father was Judge Evans’ mentor and the old judge Gray was even harder to please, basically he wasn’t pleased at all. But of course, Emily used exactly what judge Evans thought could be used to win the case. No one will ever know that and it doesn’t matter since the story is just about to start.

 

In the day of October 31st, 1981, Judge Evans had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. That entire day was unlucky for him; he even forbade his wife and child to go out trick and treating. The feeling didn’t go away even on November 1st 1981, it, if possible got worse and the strange happenings around the country didn’t help any.

 

It was 3.04 am on November 2nd 1981 in Privet Drive Little Whining, Surrey. Judge Evans found it hard to sleep so he awoke and simply sat on the bed without moving. It wasn’t long until he noticed something very peculiar happening outside his bedroom window-the lights were going out, one by one. He turned to look at his wife who was still sleeping, blissfully unaware of what was happening just outside their home. He shook his head, it was better this way, she wouldn’t get scared. He slowly stood up, the light in front of number 7 Privet Drive, their home, suddenly went out, and he approached the window.

 

Bellow him on the street stood an ancient man in robes with a long white beard. It seemed he said something to a cat his son spoke about and in a few seconds in front of him stood a woman in robes with a big pointy hat. He remembered that woman from when she came to introduce his youngest sister to world long forgotten. They started talking about something as they moved towards number 4 Privet Drive, quietly arguing. It wasn’t long until a loud roar of an engine swept over the peaceful neighborhood of Privet Drive. It was a flying motorcycle rode by a giant. He dismounted the motorbike and approached the two awaiting figures with a bundle in his arms. The spoke for a few minutes and then they left. Judge Evans looked at the doorstep of number 4 Privet Drive and what he saw made his blood boil.

 

Now, Judge Nathaniel Evans isn’t one of the nicest and kindest people; he would be the first to tell you that. But, what angered him the most was child abuse, neglect and endangerment. And what dose people did was two of three and the third just waiting to happen. After all that was the home of his younger sister Petunia Dursley, formerly Evans. She and her husband weren’t the nicest people like they had everyone fooled. And if he was right that child on their doorstep was the child of his youngest sister Lily Potter, formerly Evans.

 

No, Judge Evans wasn’t the nicest of people, he didn’t have much patience, he was cruel but not a sadist; he loved his wife but he gave her limitations, he adored his son but he didn’t spoil him. But in all his years as a judge, a lawyer before that and a delinquent before that, even as an angry child, he never, not once harmed those younger than him. It truly did make his blood boil that someone would endanger a child in such a way.

 

He agreed with Petunia on magic, in part, but he still did agree. He didn’t like his baby sister going away where he couldn’t protect her; she was the baby of the family. She grew in that world and got a life, got married, even though he didn’t approve of her husband, and had a child, and is now apparently dead. He didn’t like it when Petunia went to finishing school, he couldn’t protect his little sister like that, he didn’t like that boy she brought back either, but he couldn’t say no to his beautiful sisters. He loved them too much, and that was a mistake. It is too late now to think about ‘what if’.

 

After making up his mind, Judge Evans woke his wife, told her to get the nursery ready and went to pick up his nephew from his sisters doorstep. He had a nephew to raise, meddlesome old men be damned.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Early Years

 

Early years for Harry Potter turned out differently than they were supposed to. The first few years went by quietly with very little to report on, except maybe a memorable occasion or two. One such was changing little Harry's name. So now instead of being Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, he was Harry Evans, son of Nathaniel and Emily Evans. You could even say that life for little Harry was perfect. But that isn’t to say that papa Evans didn’t want to change his entire name, oh no, he didn’t want his son to have his father’s name since he never got along with the man. But he pretended that, since old judge Grey’s name was Harry, that was who little Harry has been named after.

The home of one judge Evans changed with little Harry’s arrival that faithful night. As far as the occupants of Number 7 Privet Drive were concerned, it was for the better. As far as meddlesome old men were concerned it would have been terrible, had they known, of course. But alas, the Wizarding World isn’t that big on logic and they assume a little bit too much… well, that’s understating it, they assume, a lot and they aren’t big on logic… just so we’re clear.

Little Harry remembers, or has nightmares about a certain incident that involves a green light, a woman’s scream and evil high pitched laughter. Other than that his life was filled with love, laughter and joy; all of that would have been foreign to him had he stayed with Aunt Petunia. As far as everyone is concerned Harry is the biological son of the Evans couple, only they know the truth of that night and if Nathaniel Evans has something to say about it, and he does, it will stay that way.

Now, little Harry simply adores his family; he wouldn’t want to change it for anything in the world. He loves making his mother laugh; he respects his father and tries to make him proud, he looks up to his big brother Victor, and simply adores his baby brother Lucian. It was about two years after he became a part of the family, when Harry was three, that Lucian was born. Harry was probably the happiest in the household.

He grew normally and as all little boys his age had quite a few adventures or misadventures as his mother would point out. One such was when little Harry was four, the entire family went out on a picnic near a lake and Harry saw other children and his big brother swimming around like it was nothing and jumped in with them, in the deeper part of the lake, and started drowning, or he would have if his father hadn’t taken him out of the lake. He gave his parents quite a scare and his mother wouldn’t let him out of her site for the next three months. But, his father promised to teach him to swim, and teach him he did. There was another one when he tried to climb a fairly tall tree in a park near their house and fell down and broke his arm. Or how about the one with the dog Uncle Vernon’s sister always brings with her to visit? Well, you get the idea. Harry thinks he has bad luck; his mother thinks he’s a trouble magnet and shouldn’t leave her sight at all. But, she could never say no to the look her boys give her.

Those adventures of little boys were fairly normal for a child his age. It was school, however, that changed the life of our little hero. As you can see, he started school with his cousin Dudley Dursley. Dudley, as overweight as he was and not very smart, was a bully. He even had his own gang who would hold the arms of other kids while Dudley hit them. None of that happened where Judge Evans could see because Dudley feared the man as much as his father did, if not more. Now, back to Harry, it was while they were at school when Dudley thought it smart to chase Harry to punch. During the chase, Harry got scared and wished really hard to be somewhere else and, an unpleasant sensation later, he found himself on the school roof; he was seven at the time. There was also a time when he changed his teachers wig blue. In his defense she was being particularly unfair to him. And there was that time at the zoo… Those were just a few incidents that happened during the year and it was thanks to them that he learned about another world.

School had let out for the year and it was a beginning of a beautiful summer. Harry was going home with his baby brother and they were both excited to see Victor come home from Eaton College so they could spend some time together pulling pranks and being a nuisances to their visiting grandfather, old judge Grey, they simply couldn’t resist the temptation. Once they got home they didn’t wait long for them to arrive, but Harry was pulled aside by his parents when Lucian went to play in his room.

“Harry, dear, can we talk?” Emily asked the little boy who was so engrossed in his book, pranks no doubt.

Harry nodded, “Yes, what’s wrong?” he asked after seeing his mother shift.

“It’s about something important. Come on, we’ll take this to my office.” His father said.

They made their way to the only room in the house no one was supposed to go in. The boys even thought that their mother couldn’t go in there, but it was never confirmed nor denied. The office wasn’t something extravagant, it was simple. Bookshelves lined the walls, a desk was clustered with papers, there was one chair behind the desk and two in front, and there was a small leather couch across a small table that had a tea set on it.

They were acting strangely, Harry noted. His father was running a hand through his hair and his mother was clutching a fist at her side. That was definitely strange behavior for his parents. Eventually his father turned a chair to face the couch and sat on it. His mother took his hand and led him to the couch where she sat both of them down.

“What’s going on? You’re acting really strange…” he asked and before they could even open their mouths to say anything his eyes widened comically and he demanded to know, “Who are you and what have you done to my parents? If you don’t tell me I’ll… I’ll… I’ll sic Lucien at you!” confusion at the end had the adults laughing. That seemed to lighten the atmosphere, somewhat.

“We wanted to talk to you about all those strange things that keep happening around you.” Said his mother.

“It wasn’t my fault, whatever happened I didn’t do it!” he was quick to defend himself.

“We know. Will you let us finish?” said his father wryly.

Harry grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry.” He murmured softly.

“There is no easy way to say this so I’ll just come out and say it.” After receiving a prompting nod from Harry, Nathaniel continued, “Harry, you’re a wizard.” And it was those words that left Harry stumped.

“I’m sorry, what?” exclaimed a very confused Harry, “This isn’t funny, you know.” He said this close to tears.

“No, sweetie, that’s not what we meant.” Consoled Emily right away and giving her husband an ugly look for good measure, “What we meant was that there is such thing as magic, it’s very real.” At the watery eyes of one of her boys Emily rushed to finish, “Have you ever wondered how you strange things happened around you when you were angry, excited or scared?” he slowly nodded, unsure.

“That is magic, your magic. They call it accidental. At least that’s what professor McGonagall said when she came to introduce my sister to the Wizarding World.” Finished his father while his mother tried to comfort him.

“Your sister? Aunt Petunia? No, I don’t want to be a wizard then!” Yelled a very scared Harry and his father had laughed at him, he laughed! How dare he!

“No, not Petunia. Lily, she was the magical one.” His father corrected him at once.

“Oh…” he understood now why he laughed, “How come you never talked about her before?” asked Harry slowly and childishly.

Nathaniel winced and Emily just hugged him tighter.

“It’s a sore subject for me. She passed away seven years ago.” Harry nodded at that, he wouldn’t have liked to talk about it if his brothers were gone. But, he wouldn’t let that happen, he would protect them. Yup, that’s what he’ll do.

“I guess I should tell you everything, huh?” it was a rhetorical question. He recognized it but looked on curiously, “I’ll tell you everything when that letter arrives. You’re supposed to be eleven to attend Hogwarts, so we’ll wait until then.” That was the end of that, no room for argument.

His brother and grandfather came together and the boys annoyed the old man as much as they could without being cruel. When the old man left Harry told his brothers what their parents told him. They, for some strange reason accepted it and their lives were normal once more. Although, the boys tried to see if they could control Harry’s magic before then.

That summer and every one after that, Christmas Holidays, weekends to follow drew the boys closer than ever before. They were always smart boys, clever and cunning, loyal to each other and very brave, much like the qualities that were used to sort someone in a house. However the boys had those qualities in abundance and those qualities were all equal in all of the boys. Their father told them all he knew about the Wizarding World, which wasn’t much, but what they did find out was that they were so stuck in their traditions that they won’t allow for any kind of change. The boys were planning to overthrow the ministry. Well they were planning for Victor to become the Prime Minister of Great Britain, and for Harry to become the Minister for Magic; Lucien could choose between becoming a minister of something or a judge like their father.

The family enjoyed their time and treasured when they were together. Those memories will forever be treasured by them, Harry most of all. And now this story, a very short show of Harry’s life before the letter came is coming to an end.

It was a very warm summer. A month before Harry’s eleventh birthday brought a very strange visitor and their lives were changed again. For better or for worse, Harry was going to Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

 

The Letter and Diagon Alley

 

 

It was a warm summer of Harry’s eleventh birthday when the boys came home from school and had an imminent visit from Granddad Grey. Granddad’s visit wasn’t a long one and soon the house was calm from the boys’ constant pranking of their grandfather. It was truly idyllic. It would be such shames if something were to ruin that peace, wouldn’t it? Alas, it was not to last, it was the 1st of July when a very strange visitor came to visit the Evans family.

 

July 1st started out like any other day. The family got up, had breakfast and enjoyed the day together. It was while the boys were preparing another prank, their mother reprimanding them before returning to her recipes and their father watching the news that they heard someone knocking on their front doors. Everyone was in full alert. Emily put her papers and magazines away while Judge Evans slowly made his way to open the door for their visitor. The boys quietly made their way to the living room and started playing a game of their own invention.

 

When Judge Evans opened the door he didn’t see anyone there. He was about to close the door when he heard someone cough and looked down. There, little shorter than his eight year old son, stood a little man, who looked excited, with a letter in his hand.

 

“Hello, I’m Professor Filus Flitwick, and I have a letter for a Mr. Harry Evans.” The tiny Professor said in a squeaky voice.

 

“Of course, do come in.” Judge Evans replied and showed the tiny Charms master in, “Everyone should be in the living room.” He added as an afterthought.

 

“Oh, of course, of course.” Professor Flitwick said, “It is a little curious, but you don’t seem all that surprised by my visit, if not at all.” Curiously he observed.

 

“You are right, I’m not. My sister was a witch and even though I didn’t approve of her going away to study magic, it was a good thing for her. She was worried less over harming others when she knew she would be trained.” Judge Evans explained and continued, “So I wasn’t all that surprised when my son started showing signs of magic as a baby.” He noted that the Professors eyes widened, his brows shot into his hair line and he seemed even more excited than he was while at the door.

 

“As… as a baby.” Flitwick stammered out, “And you say you had a witch in your family? Could she have possibly explained more about magic to you and your family?” He enquired.

 

“No, I’m afraid Lily was killed for being born to muggles, and everything I told my family is what I learned from my parents and sisters. Though let me tell you it took me three years of interrogating Lily to learn of what really happens in your world.” Answered Judge Evans.

 

“Lily? Could your sister possibly be Lily Evans Potter?” Now the little man was simply ecstatic.

 

“Yes, that was her. Why do you ask?” Maybe now he could find out what happened to his sister in depth, he hoped so.

 

“I’m sorry to say something like this, she may have been my brightest pupil, but you are her family. That should count more than anything else, shouldn’t it?” The tiny professor shook his head sadly.

 

Judge Evans could only nod. Sadly, the horrid truth was that wizards thought very little of anyone who doesn’t wave their wand around for the smallest of things, lazy idiots.

 

During their little talk they entered the living room and everyone in the family introduced themselves to the Professor. After the introductions were done and over with Professor Flitwick gave Harry his letter and the boys huddled together to read it.

 

Harry slowly broke the seal and took the letter out. After appreciating holding a parchment for the first time he read it out loud.

 

“HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

 

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

 

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

 

Dear Mr. Evans,

 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

 

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

 

Yours sincerely,

 

Minerva McGonagall,

 

Deputy Headmistress”

 

“Well, that was different.” Mumbled  Victor.

 

 Everyone else laughed slightly.

 

“Well, come on. Open the list so we can see what you’ll need.” Lucien urged his brother.

 

“All right, all right, stop pushing me. “ Said Harry and took the list out and read that one out loud too, “HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

 

UNIFORM

 

First-year students will require:

 

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

 

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

 

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

 

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

 

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

 

COURSE BOOKS

 

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

 

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

 

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

 

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

 

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

 

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

 

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

 

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

 

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

 

OTHER EQUIPMENT

 

1 wand

 

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

 

1 set of glass or crystal phials

 

1 telescope set

 

1 brass scales

 

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS”

 

“Well, that really isn’t Eaton College supply list.” Said Victor feeling a little stunned. The rest of them just nodded their heads.

 

“Professor, how do I reply, I mean I do have to reply, right?” Harry asked a little unsure.

 

“Well that would be the right thing to do. Paperwork and all that, we wouldn’t want to make it easy on the poor Deputy who is a head of House and a Professor as well, you know.” Joked the Professor and then continued, “It’s simple really, we can do that while in Diagon Alley. You should probably write a response beforehand, though.”

 

“Well, do you have any questions I could answer you? Anything you would like to know? Should I start talking, offering information and then you ask questions when I’m done?” Flitwick went into Professor Mode, or that’s what the boys have dubbed it.

 

“Maybe it would be best you explain what a muggleborn witch or wizard might need to know, school, currency, literature, government, future after school, classes, what the teachers are like from student perspective, sports, arts, magical creatures, magical plants, hospitals and healing, transportation and recent history. You know the basics.” Harry rattled off.

 

If it was possible, the Professor looked ready to burst from excitement at having found yet another inquisitive mind.

 

“Yes, yes, I will explain it all. You know, I’ve never had a student question everything there is to know. A soon as they find out magic is real they simply don’t care anymore.” Yes, Professor Flitwick was very excited and he couldn’t wait for Mr. Harry Evans to come to Hogwarts. And he hoped that Harry, unlike his Aunt, would be sorted into his house.

 

And so Professor Flitwick explained everything that was asked to the best of his ability, and then some. The boys didn’t run out of questions, and the Professor would have gladly answered even more, but it was time for lunch; and Emily like any mother of growing boys believed it firmly that growing boys required nourishment at set times and thus she stopped the questioning so that the family and guest could eat. After which the questioning continued and it was around five in the afternoon that the adults set the time to meet again tomorrow morning at ten and Professor Flitwick left very satisfied with the young wizard and his family.

 

'Such a nice bunch', he thought.

 

After their guest left Judge Nathaniel Evans gathered his family in the living room and with a few prompts and frowns from his wife told his family about Lily Evans Potter, Petunia Evans Dursley and little Harry James Potter who was now and forever Harry Murphy Evans. His speech left them stunned, they weren’t used to this side of him, Emily had heard him talk like that in the courtroom once, but the message was clear, they were family and family sticks together.

 

“And just so we’re clear, remind Professor Snape that if he gives you any grief, well he was smart to fear me as a child.” The Judge finished and spat out the word Professor like it was something vile.

 

At seeing Harry nod, he let them all go talk and get ready for the next day. He was beginning to regret ever allowing one of his boys to leave to that backwards place, but he knew that just because they helped each other and Harry learned like that, there would come a time where it wouldn’t be enough. He knew all this, but it didn’t stop him from worrying about his son. Strangely not even Emily could get him to stop thinking like that. He doubted anything ever will until they, his sons, grew and fulfilled their ambitions. He really hated that backwards world.

 

In a castle far away, well not that far, in Scotland really, five people sat in an oval office filled with many strange gadgets and gizmos.

 

“How did the introduction of this year’s muggelborn students go? Do we have anyone with any kind of special needs?” Asked a tall ancient man with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles.

 

“As well as it could, considering their previous knowledge of magic. Nothing, that I can report on.” Said a sower looking man in black robes with a crooked nose and cold black eyes. The old man nodded to his colleague.

 

“At first they thought it was a joke, but after that they pretty excited I must say. I really do feel sorry, but some of them will be dropping the idea of going to one of the finest schools that muggles have. I am really impressed with them. None of them have any special needs. That is all I have to say.” Said both sorrowfully and excitedly a plump woman with a kind face in earthy brown robes.

 

“Yes, it is very sad to waste such an opportunity, but perhaps, this would be deferent for them, better. Do not worry yourself overly much Pomona. Would you like a Lemon Drop, my dear?” He consoled the woman and offered her a wonderful muggle candy he came upon. After she refused he turned to the next one in line.

 

“Skeptic at first, they thought it was a joke, however it took me little to convince them. Those children are simply brilliant, so inquisitive, they really are giving up on an educational opportunity to come here and study magic, I feel guilty and it isn’t my fault. No doubt they would be in your house Filius. Nothing on special needs, if I find out you will be informed.” Finished a woman with a tall witch’s hat spectacles on her nose and hair tied in a stern bun.

 

The old man nodded at her as well before turning to the last member in the room. The small Professor Filius Flitwick was ready to burst from joy, he was almost bouncing in his seat. The old man, Albus Dumbledore, raised his eyebrows at this and motioned for the miniature Professor to begin. And he gladly did so.

 

“Meeting with all of the students was standard, some wanted to know more, some thought it to be ‘awesome’, and others worried about fitting in. Amongst them I met a young man who resembles one of my more favorite pupils of all time. Of course, it didn’t help they are related…” he was rambling by this point and was stopped by Headmaster Dumbledore.

 

“Filius, please start from the beginning, you have us lost.” The old man said gently and his blue yes twinkled merrily. Flitwick squeaked in embarrassment, blushed and started from the beginning.

 

“When I went to meat one of our future students I thought it was going to be the standard procedure and worried parents asking all kinds of questions.  When I got there, the father, a Judge Nathaniel Evans…”

 

No one noticed Snape growing pale and dread filled the man’s stomach.

 

“…opened the door. It turns out his sister was Lily Evans Potter and no one thought it wise to tell him anything about his sisters’ death except she was murdered protecting her child who he has never seen. Anyway, his younger son…”

 

‘He procreated!’ thought Snape, now fearing for his very life.

 

“…has got magic. He even said the boy had bursts of accidental or controlled as it would be for a small child, when he was only eighteen months old.” Filius was so excited and now everyone understood to some degree, Snape on the other hand was preparing his Will, “And there’s more, the eldest goes to one of the prestigious schools, the youngest will too, but Mr. Evans, Harry, was with the help of his brothers looking for different ways to control his magic, and he succeeded.” Another excited squeak and a paler Potions Master later Filius continued, “But the best part, he and his brothers asked me to tell them everything about the Wizarding World. You should have seen them just asking question after question after question, and their parents looked so proud, well Mrs. Evans looked so proud, Judge Evans looked a bit smug. Too bad Mrs. Evans stopped us, but growing boys do need to eat. I will meet them tomorrow to go to Diagon Alley to buy young Harrys supplies. I really do hope he ends up in Ravenclaw, unlike his Aunt.” He finished and now everyone knew why he was that happy.

 

Albus Dumbledore nodded and thoughtfully stroked his beard. Everyone sat there watching a smug looking tiny Charms Master. Albus’ blue eyes twinkled merrily and he smiled at his staff.

 

“Thank you Filius. I was not aware that Lily had a brother, the only sibling I knew of was her sister Petunia.” He said softly, “But, surely Severus, you would know. You and Ms. Evans were the best of friends until that unfortunate incident.” The aged Headmaster turned to the paler than death Potions Master. The man just nodded slowly, swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke.

 

“That man, that man… Simply the mention of his name brought extreme fear in the spine of everyone who knew what was really like. He couldn’t have changed from twenty years ago and now he has three kids, who are, no doubt just like him, and I will have to endure one of those and that is too much for any human to take.” 

 

 “Surely, he cannot be that bad?” Dumbledore asked not understanding the man’s fear.

 

“I fear that muggle more than any Dark Lord; now excuse me I have to go hide from Lily’s brother.” Snape stood quickly and before anyone could say anything, he was out of the office.

 

The staff in the Headmasters office was left quiet and stunned and only Fawkes, the Headmasters Phoenix, thrilled softly.

 

A beautiful morning descended on a sleepy neighborhood of Privet Drive. The occupants of Number 7 were already up and about getting ready for the rest of the day. Let’s rephrase that, the boys were so excited they couldn’t sleep anymore that they woke their parents and were now having breakfast. One does not say no to their mother in the morning, no matter the experience, especially with their father in the vicinity while he was grumpy for being woken. They, the boys, could barely contain their energy but they managed to survive till’ ten o’clock when their chaperone arrived.

 

“How will we be going there?” Asked Professor Flitwick. After yesterday he thought it would be a good idea to give them that choice.

 

“We’ll be taking the car. I hope you don’t mind, Professor, but it would be a good idea with all our purchases.” Explained an excited Harry. Professor Flitwick could only nod in understanding; it was a very good idea indeed.

 

Once they were all in their seats the car started and they drove to London. It took them a while but, they were there. In the meantime the boys kept asking questions that the Professor seemed eager to answer as they were eager to learn. Professor Flitwick told them where they would be going so that Judge Evans could plan where to park the car. Soon they were out and standing in front of Leaky Cauldron. It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub.

 

“It’s a famous place you know, the Leaky Cauldron.” Told them Flitwick after seeing their skeptical expressions.

 

And so, they entered the pub. For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut.

 

The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed recognize Professor Flitwick; they waved and smiled at him.

 

“Come along now, the entrance is this way.” Professor Flitwick steered them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

 

"Three up… two across…" he muttered. ”Right, stand back, everyone.”

 

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his wand.

 

The brick he had touched quivered — it wriggled — in the middle, a small hole appeared — it grew wider and wider — a second later they were facing an archway large enough for a giant, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

 

"Welcome," said Professor Flitwick, "to Diagon Alley."

 

He grinned at the Evans’ amazement. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall.

 

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons — All Sizes — Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver — Self-Stirring — Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

 

"You will need one," said Professor Flitwick, "but we have to get your money exchanged first."

 

The boys wished they had about eight more eyes. They turned their heads in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad…"

 

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium — Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand — fastest ever —"

There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments boys had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…

 

"Gringotts," said Professor Flitwick.

 

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was —

 

"Yes, that's a goblin," said Professor Flitwick quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, boys noticed, very long fingers and feet. They bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

 

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

 

 

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Professor Flitwick, Judge Evans and Harry made for the counter.

 

“Good Morning" said Professor Flitwick to a free goblin. "We would like to exchange some money.”

 

“How much, sir?” Asked the goblin while turning to Judge Evans.

 

Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

 

“What is the exchange rate?” Asked Judge Evans.

 

“… The gold ones are Galleons," the goblin explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it’s easy enough.” Harry mustn’t have been paying attention since his father and the teller were exchanging pounds to Galleons, Sickles and Knuts and was handed a pouch for the money.

 

"We might as well get your uniform," said Emily, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The males groaned at that and Professor Flitwick suppressed a chuckle at the look on their faces.

 

They made their way to the shop and Emily apologized in advance knowing this might take longer than expected.

 

 Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

 

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here — another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

 

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, round face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

 

"H-Hullo," stammered the boy, "Ho-Hogwarts, too?"

 

"Yes," said Harry, “I’m muggleborn you see, like my Aunt.”

 

“Oh… Everyone in my family was magical. I was afraid I wouldn’t get my letter.”

 

“That sounds silly, don’t you think?” Asked Harry.

 

"Yes, it is a little silly.” The boy said, “My Gran’s next door buying my books, then I hope I can drag her to see if any new plants came in the botany shop.” He said feeling a little more assured.

 

“Well, mamma’s over there looking at some robes that would definitely look ‘dashing’ on my brothers and me, and papa will just nod so she doesn’t make him try some on. She’s evil incarnate when it comes to clothes. Professor Flitwick is here with us today, to help me learn more about a new society I’m about to enter.” Harry answered the boy.

 

“ D-Do you kn-know what house you'll be in yet?" asked the boy.

 

“No, probably Slytherin or Hufflepuff, but there’s a good possibility to end up in Ravenclaw.” Harry answered.

 

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, but Gran wants me to be in Gryffindor, like my father, but I think I’ll end up in Huffelpuff.” The boy said this morosely.

 

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with Hufflepuff. Just because most of the witches and wizards, from what I’ve seen, are afraid of a little hard work and are loyal only to themselves, know nothing about fair play since they treat everyone who doesn’t wave a wand around to tie their shoes, of all things, as second, no not second, third even tenth class citizens.” Harry was rather angry at this point but the look in the other boys face told him he scared him, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to blow on you. I’m just disgusted by how lazy and unfair and unloyal these people are and until that doesn’t changes I will count myself something else. Anyway, sorry.” He apologized to the boy again.

 

“T-That’s alright.” Said the boy timidly.

 

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy not wanting to hurt the boy again, hopped down from the footstool.

 

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts.” He said to the boy and walked over to his family.

 

 

They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote. When they had left the shop, Professor Flitwick took them to the book store so they could buy Harry’s school books; Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all.

 

The boys went around and read the titles and beside the required items they got quite a few for extra reading, one of which, Hogwarts: A History found its way into the pile. They didn’t even had to guess who put it in there, their mother was in the history section looking quite innocent, almost too innocent.

 

Next they bought a pewter cauldron size 2 and they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients. When he saw telescopes were the kind used in the middle century he asked the Professor if he had to use that kind or could he buy a better muggle one. And then he proceeded to educate his Professor about the kinds of telescopes muggles used. He can get a muggle telescope, it never specified what kind, but it couldn’t be anything electronic; electricity doesn’t work in Hogwarts. The family was appalled but they had better understanding of some things now.

 

Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Mrs. Evans asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry and some extra, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

 

Once out of the apothecary Harry checked his list again.

 

“Only a wand left.” Said Professor Flitwick.

 

“And while here, we might as well get Harry an early birthday present.” Said their mother thoughtfully.

 

“Good idea. Professor, please go with Emily and Lucien. Harry, Victor and I will go get a wand. I still remember that place.” Said Judge Evans.

 

Professor Flitwick nodded, he understood why he wanted a trained wizard with his family in this place when he couldn’t go himself, after all a birthday present is supposed to be secret until it was given.

 

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

 

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Victor sat on to wait.

 

Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled.

 

The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

 

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped and his father and brother must have too.

 

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

 

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

 

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter, though you go by another name now." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.”

 

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

 

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it — it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

 

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

 

"And that's where…"

 

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

 

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

 

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Harry’s family.

 

“Nathaniel Evans I haven’t seen you since your sister got her wand.” Ollivander said carefully.

 

“Yes, and I hope this will stay privet. No intentional or unintentional slip of the word about my son’s whereabouts. There will be none, will there?” The way in which was spoken was rather frightening to the boys and scared the old wand maker as well.

 

“No, not at all.” Said Ollivander quickly.

 

“Mr. Potter”

 

“Evans. I’m Harry Evans.” Corrected him Harry.

 

“Well, now — Mr. Evans. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

 

"Er — well, I'm left-handed," said Harry.

 

If he was shocked, Mr. Ollivander didn’t show it.

 

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Evans. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

 

Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

 

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Evans. Try this one. Beachwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

 

Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

 

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try —"

 

Harry tried — but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

 

"No, no — here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

 

Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

 

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere — I wonder, now — yes, why not — unusual combination — holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

 

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers.

He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

 

Victor whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…"

 

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious… curious…"

 

"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"

 

 

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.

 

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Evans. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather — just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother — why, its brother gave you that scar.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Evans… After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great."

 

Harry shivered.

 

He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much.

 

He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

 

It was while they were going back to the Leaky Cauldron that they spotted the rest of their family. His mother was holding a cage with a beautiful snowy owl inside it. She had a few packages with her as well. It looks like Lucien begged their mother enough to buy him a dog of some kind. As soon as they were close enough Lucien ran to them intent on showing his new pet.

 

“Look what I’ve got, look what I’ve got!” he said excitedly, “It’s a crup, a magical kind of dog. I got a dog, ‘couse cats are for girls.” He was very proud of his purchase.

 

They noticed their father giving their mother a ‘look’ and she looked away. She approached Harry with the cage.

 

“Happy Early Birthday, Harry.” His mother told him, “Now you can write to us all the time or you can leave her with us and we can get you another pet.” She told him.

 

“I’ll think about it. Thank you, mamma. Thank you, Lucien.” He told his family and then turned to his Professor, “Thank you, Professor”

 

The ride back to Privet Drive was filled with chatter and boys asking the delighted Professor even more questions. Once they were out of the car in front of Number 7, the family said goodbye to the Professor. Before he left, however Professor Flitwick took Harry aside and then handed him an envelope.

 

"It is your ticket for Hogwarts," he said. "First of September — King's Cross — it's all on your ticket.” He then explained to him how to get there, “Goodbye Mr. Harry Evans, I hope to see you soon, preferably in my house.” The small Professor joked and then left down the street.

 

“This is going to be two months spent preparing like never before, won’t they?” Asked Victor.

 

“You know it. We have to be ready.” Answered Harry.

 

“Yeah, we can’t have anyone show us up can we?” Added Lucien while petting his new pet whose name he still had to find.

 

“Boys, hurry up and put your things away. Dinner will be ready soon.” Called their mother.

 

“Coming, mamma.” They called backed together.

 

Yes, it’s definitely going to be two months spent preparing to enter a world he was going to change one day. And what better way than to prepare for the world that it’s like now. God help those soles for Evans brothers will have none.