Chapter Text
The Mayfair apartment was quiet save for the faint rustling of parchment and the occasional clinking of cutlery against porcelain. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm golden glow over the elegant dining table where Harry Potter sat, absently twirling his spoon in his cereal. Across from him, Elara Grey sat at the head of the table, eyes scanning a series of rolled-out schematics, a pen tapping against her lip as she made notes in the margins.
They had fallen into a familiar rhythm since returning to London, but the quiet hum of domesticity was underpinned by the weight of everything they had to keep hidden.
Only a select few in Britain were aware of their connection to the Flamels. And even fewer understood the full scope of their influence, social circle, or resources. To everyone else, they were simply an eccentric young woman and her ward, returning from a quiet summer abroad.
Harry glanced up from his cereal, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You know, you never really told me what Pernelle said after turning the colour of a cursed satsuma.”
Elara let out a low hum, eyes still on her schematics. “She refused to speak to me for exactly thirty-eight minutes, then informed me that there would never be another tea party with Helvia. At least not without a pre-emptive Veritaserum screening.”
He snorted. “You left her there, didn’t you?”
“She was bright orange, gremlin. There wasn’t much I could do.”
“She glowed.”
“She radiated consequence. And besides,” she continued, finally setting down her pen, “she was the one who sipped the tea before I could stop her. I warned her that Helvia’s hedges have a vendetta and her potions are a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
Harry grinned. “You were right to flee. That woman made you speak Ancient Greek for half a day last time.”
“I barely remember it. I think my syntax was flawless by the end, though.”
They both chuckled, then Harry arched a brow. “And yet you call me a gremlin.”
“You melted a lab,” she replied sweetly.
He raised his spoon in protest. “Technically, Grand-père melted it with me.”
She gave him a dry look. “That’s not the defence you think it is.”
He laughed. “It was an accident!”
“You and Nicholas experimenting with rune arrays in a live testing environment? That was not an accident, that was a countdown.”
He grinned without remorse. “You weren’t there. It was amazing.”
“You’re lucky the Flamel Foundation is insured for magical mishaps caused by precocious teenage prodigies.”
“I’m their only teenage prodigy.”
“Exactly.”
Their laughter softened into a quieter, more thoughtful silence. He leaned back in his chair, spoon dangling from his fingers. “The gala was nice, though.”
Her features relaxed into a gentle smile. “It was. The Sanctum Gala has really grown these past few years.”
“And the Scamanders are brilliant,” Harry said warmly. “I still think Theron’s the funniest man I’ve ever met.”
“That’s only because he nearly fell into the phoenix enclosure while trying to show you a card trick.”
“He stole my trick.”
“Poorly.”
More laughter. Elara sipped her tea, gaze distant with fondness. “They’ve been good to us.”
“Even before the gala,” Harry agreed. “Letting us stay at the estate. Introducing us to their creature specialists. Helping with the egg incubation programme...”
“You charmed the entire donor circle when you started gushing about the Nundu cub,” she said with a smirk. “They would have signed away their fortunes just to keep you smiling.”
He flushed slightly. “I was being sincere.”
“I know. That’s why it worked.”
They shared a look across the table, a silent understanding that despite all the chaos and the secrets, there were moments like this. Moments worth protecting.
“I’m glad we ran into Rolf and Theron in Cameroon,” Harry murmured.
“Literally ran into them,” Elara reminded him. “While you were chasing that smug little poacher through the underbrush.”
“Still think you elbowed him harder than necessary.”
“He called me ladybird.”
Her gremlin of a son coughed to hide his grin. “Fair.”
“Anyway,” she said, glancing at the clock and beginning to roll up her schematics, “as far as the rest of Britain knows, we spent the summer picnicking by a lake and learning how to whittle.”
“Whittling,” he deadpanned. “Right.”
“No more Foundation labs, no Italian hedge witches, no Scamander galas.”
“Got it.”
A sharp knock on the door pulled them both from their thoughts. Harry immediately straightened, exchanging a look with Elara before sliding out of his chair. He approached the door, wand discreetly in hand as he peered through the peephole. After a moment, he relaxed and disengaged the wards.
“It’s them,” he called over his shoulder, swinging the door open.
Sirius Black and Remus Lupin stepped inside, Sirius looking well-rested and more like himself than he had in years. The sharp angles of Azkaban had softened somewhat, and his grin was easy as he ruffled his godson’s hair in greeting. Remus, as always, looked composed but quietly amused as he took in the apartment.
“Well, well,” the former Azkaban convict drawled, stepping further in. “And here I thought you two were living in some dark, brooding lair, plotting the downfall of the Ministry.”
Elara, who had swiftly rolled up her remaining schematics the moment Harry had moved to open the door, arched a brow at Remus as he side-eyed the movement.
“World domination?” he asked dryly.
She smirked. “Please. That’s not for another ten years at least.”
The man barked a laugh, plopping down into a chair while Remus shook his head with a chuckle. “You know, the first time I met you, I called you a crazy arse bitch,” Sirius drawled, smirking.
“You did,” she agreed, lifting her teacup to her lips. “And I was offended, naturally.”
Sirius raised a sceptical brow.
She shrugged. “Not at the ‘crazy’ part, of course. But ‘bitch’? Come now, you could have at least called me Lady of Chaos or Magnificent Overlord... something with a bit of flair.”
The other marauder sighed, taking a seat beside his friend, while Harry sat back down with an amused shake of his head. “Merlin help us all if she ever does go through with this world domination plan,” he muttered.
The dog Animagus grinned. “I, for one, plan to fully support it. I just want a cool title. Perhaps Duke of Disaster or something.”
She smirked. “Duly noted.”
As the laughter died down, Sirius leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “Alright, pup, let’s talk about this year. Any subjects you’re looking forward to?”
Said boy considered. “Runes, definitely. I’ve been working on a few projects with them over the summer, and I want to expand on that.”
Remus’s eyes lit up. “You’re already working with runes?”
He grinned. “Elara made sure I got an early start. It’s fascinating stuff.” His thoughts drifted to the Mayan runes they’d stumbled across during their jaunt in South America.
Sirius snorted. “Of course you’re a bloody academic, just like your mum. James would be pretending he understood a single word and hoping for the best.”
Harry laughed, but then Sirius’s expression turned thoughtful. “What about Quidditch?”
At this, both men looked expectantly at him, clearly surprised when Harry hesitated.
“Oh...” He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, about that...”
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Elara grinned, sipping her tea as Harry sighed. “Alright, so during my first flying lesson, Malfoy stole Neville’s remembrall, which he was threatening to leave on the roof.”
Sirius immediately bristled. “That little git...”
“I handled it,” Harry interrupted. “I flew up. Malfoy panicked and threw it. I caught it before it hit the ground.”
Remus was listening intently, but Sirius looked like he was ready to hunt down a twelve-year-old.
“And then,” he continued, “McGonagall saw the whole thing and dragged me off.”
Sirius leaned forward. “She didn’t punish you for it, did she?”
Harry grinned. “No. She brought me straight to Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, and told him I was his new player.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Sirius let out a dramatic wail, clutching his chest. “James would be so proud, our little Prongslet, on the house team! In his first year!”
Remus chuckled. “And let me guess, you turned it down?”
The boy nodded. “I wasn’t ready. It was my first year, and I had a lot to focus on. But Wood told me I had a spot on the team if I wanted it this year. Maman thinks it’s a good idea.”
The men exchanged a look, then turned to Elara, who was smiling gently, gazing at her son.
“I told him he was going stir-crazy last year,” she said. “Maybe Quidditch would be a good way to burn off some of that energy.”
Sirius nodded sagely. “She’s got a point, Harry. You can’t spend all your time reading dusty old tomes. You’ve got to balance it out; pranks, Quidditch, shenanigans. It’s a full curriculum.”
Remus sighed. “Please don’t encourage him.”
The boy laughed, then stood. “You know what? I think I will go and let Wood know. He’ll want time to prepare whatever training plan he came up with last year.”
As he turned towards his room, Sirius called out, “Wait, what position?”
The little chaos gremlin glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “Seeker.”
Sirius let out a victorious yell as Remus shook his head with a smile.
The woman just sipped her tea, watching them fondly.
Yes, this year was going to be very interesting.
A sharp tapping against the window interrupted their conversation, drawing their attention to a rather frazzled-looking Hogwarts owl. It was gripping a letter tightly in its talons, its wide, wary eyes darting around the room as though assessing for danger.
Unlike last year, when she had all correspondence from Hogwarts redirected to Gringotts, she allowed this one letter through.
She wanted to see what tricks the would-be chess master would use this time.
Elara moved to open the window, but before she could, the owl stiffened, wings flaring in alarm. A low, almost imperious hoot came from the perch in the corner, where a massive Eurasian eagle owl sat, watching with an air of quiet menace.
Beatus.
The Hogwarts owl visibly panicked. In a desperate act of self-preservation, it dropped the letter onto the windowsill and took off like a bat out of hell, flapping away as fast as its little wings could carry it.
Elara exhaled sharply through her nose and turned to the smug-looking eagle owl, arms crossing over her chest. “Really, Beatus? Was that necessary?”
The massive owl simply blinked at her with his piercing amber eyes, entirely unrepentant.
Hedwig, who was perched beside Beatus, cooed softly and sidled closer to him, fluffing his feathers affectionately.
Beatus, smug menace that he was, ruffled his feathers and leaned into the snowy owl’s space, clearly seeking comfort after being so unjustly berated by his mistress.
Sirius, watching the entire exchange, pointed at the giant owl. “That thing is a menace. It bit me the first time we met!”
Harry, re-entering the room with the letter for Wood in hand, barely dodged as Beatus snapped at his sleeve in what was clearly a long-standing grudge. Shooting the owl an unimpressed look, he turned to Sirius and nodded. “I second that. Beatus is a menace.”
She simply raised an eyebrow at him and said, “Pickles.”
The boy immediately burst into laughter.
The two wizards exchanged confused looks.
“Pickles?” Remus asked, tilting his head. “What do pickles have to do with…?”
She hummed. “I’ll tell you later.”
The boy was still chuckling as he sidled over to Hedwig, gently attaching the letter for Wood to her leg. He stroked her feathers once before opening the window again, allowing her to take off into the morning air.
Elara turned back to the Hogwarts letter that had been left behind. Her smirk faded slightly, recalling the enchantments put on Harry’s first Hogwarts letter…s. She held it up between two fingers. “Remus, could you check this for spells? Just to be safe?”
The man nodded, pulling his wand. He murmured a few incantations under his breath, his brows furrowing as he ran his wand over the parchment. A moment later, his expression darkened.
“Tracking charm,” he announced grimly. “Designed to locate Harry’s position once he touches it.”
Sirius’s easy-going expression immediately hardened. “That old bastard,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “How did he even slip that past the Ministry’s restrictions?”
The ever-observant woman rolled her eyes. “He’s Dumbledore. He doesn’t ask, he acts. You think anyone would dare question him?”
Remus efficiently dispelled the charm with a wave of his wand. “Not anymore, they won’t.” He handed the now-safe letter to Harry.
Her son sighed as he tore it open. “Honestly, does he think we’re stupid?”
She smirked. “No. He just thinks he’s smarter than everyone else.”
As Harry unfolded the letter, he quickly skimmed the usual start-of-term reminders before moving to the book list. He read out the titles, and Elara checked them off against what they already had.
“Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two; check. Magical Theory; check. A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration; check.”
They went through the list methodically until he sighed, setting the parchment down. “Hogwarts is so slow.”
That caught the two wizards off guard. “What do you mean, slow?” Sirius asked, frowning. “Hogwarts is one of the best wizarding schools in the world!”
The boy made a face. “That’s what they say, but the curriculum is… well, it’s basic. I learned half of this stuff over the summer before first year. The only reason I’m not bored out of my mind is because I’m using what Elara taught me to study more advanced material on the side.”
The two Marauders turned to Elara.
She didn’t acknowledge them, simply making a note on her own parchment. “We’ll get you some more advanced books on the subjects,” she said smoothly. “No reason for you to stagnate.” She made a mental note to contact some of the professors at the other wizarding schools and ask for copies of their curricula and syllabi. She had a feeling something else was in play at Hogwarts.
Harry immediately brightened. “Thanks.”
The men, still a little stunned by the casual exchange, exchanged another look before deciding to let it go. For now.
Then, as Harry moved to read the next section, his expression shifted into mild irritation.
“Ah,” he said. “And now we come to Defence Against the Dark Arts.”
She leaned forward, her expression sharpening slightly. “Let’s see what disaster they’ve lined up this year.”
And with that, Harry scanned the list, bracing for whatever madness awaited them.
His brow furrowed as he scanned the letter in his hands, eyes flicking over the book list once, then twice. He tilted his head slightly, confusion evident on his face.
“Huh?” he muttered, his voice laced with genuine bafflement.
Elara, catching his expression, raised an eyebrow. “What’s ‘huh’?”
He handed her the parchment, pointing at the section for Defence Against the Dark Arts. She took it, her gaze quickly scanning the list before she, too, frowned in confusion.
“…Huh,” she muttered.
Sirius and Remus leaned in, curiosity piqued.
She cleared her throat and read aloud:
- The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
- Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
- Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
- Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
- Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
- Wandering with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
- Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart
She blinked at the list, then turned it upside down as if that would somehow make it make sense. “Who the hell…?”
Sirius squinted at the list, a bemused grin tugging at his lips. “I’m sorry, Holidays with Hags? Wandering with Werewolves? Who the bloody hell did they hire as the new professor for Defence?”
Remus shook his head. “I have a terrible feeling we’re about to find out.”
She exhaled sharply, setting the letter down. “I have no idea. Amelia hasn’t said anything, and I usually get wind of these kinds of things from her.” She gestured vaguely at the list. “But whoever it is, they’re using fiction as reference material.”
Sirius leaned back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “They’re supposedly biographies.”
She gave him an unimpressed look. “As I said; fiction.”
Remus let out a short bark of laughter, while her gremlin giggled into his sleeve.
Shaking her head, Elara turned her attention back to the men. “Do you two have anything planned for the day?”
Sirius stretched lazily. “Nope. We were hoping to spend it with you and the kid.”
She hummed in thought. “Would you mind accompanying us to Diagon Alley? I’d rather get this out of the way sooner than later.” She reached for a wide brimmed hat, carefully tucking her hair into the cap.
Sirius clapped his hands together. “Perfect! But only on the condition that we actually go to other shops, and not just the bookshop.”
Elara, Remus, and Harry immediately shared a look before all three of them burst into laughter.
“Oh, Sirius,” Remus said, shaking his head with a sympathetic smirk. “You poor, poor man.”
Harry grinned. “You’re about to suffer.”
Sirius groaned. “I knew it. We’re going to be in that bloody bookshop for hours, aren’t we?”
Elara patted his shoulder mockingly. “Sirius, dear, knowledge is power.”
“Yes, but power shouldn’t mean standing around while you lot debate over which obscure tome of obscure magic to buy!”
Her son gave him a solemn look. “Sirius, you should know by now that we’re going to buy all of them.”
The man threw his hands in the air in defeat as the others laughed.
As they gathered their things to leave, Remus paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, I saw something about an event at the bookshop later today,” he mused. “Didn’t catch the details. I only skimmed it.”
Elara waved a dismissive hand. “We’ll check when we get there.”
She strode over to the side table to grab her keys, only to find the spot empty.
She stopped.
Blinking once, she scanned the table again, as though expecting the keys to magically appear if she looked hard enough. Then she sighed, deeply, and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
From across the room, Harry started snorting with laughter.
Elara turned slowly, pinning him with an unimpressed look. “…Pickles.”
The men looked at each other, then back at her in confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”
Before anyone could explain, a soft jingle filled the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of tiny, triumphant chittering.
All four of them turned their heads at the same time.
There, perched victoriously on the curtain rail, was a Niffler, a smug, furry little creature with beady eyes. Elara’s keys dangled from his tiny, greedy paws as he waved them about like a trophy.
Sirius blinked. “Ah. I’m assuming that’s Pickles.”
Harry, still giggling, nodded. “Yep.”
Remus groaned, pressing a hand to his face. “Why do you have a Niffler?”
Her son grinned. “We picked him up in China.”
His mother shot him a look.
He coughed. “Alright, he stowed away in China.”
She rolled her eyes. “We’ll explain later.”
Remus, ever the helpful one, pulled out his wand and summoned the keys back, ignoring the betrayed screech of the Niffler as his prize was stolen from him.
Elara caught the keys and smiled. “Thank you, Remus. I promise I’ll get you some decent tea this time, none of that Ministry swill I accidentally subjected you to before.” She had some nice tea leaves from India tucked away in her cupboards.
Remus placed a hand over his heart, sighing in relief. “I graciously accept this offer.”
Meanwhile, Pickles sat on the curtain rail, absolutely devastated, tiny paws clutched dramatically to his chest.
Harry walked over and whispered something conspiratorially to the Niffler, who perked up immediately.
“What did you just promise him?” she asked, already suspicious.
He grinned. “That I’ll bring him back a shiny treat from the Magical Menagerie.”
Pickles happily chittered in approval.
Shaking her head, she grabbed her bag. “Fine. But you also need to get more bedding for Lamia, and some treats for the owls.”
Her son nodded. “Got it.”
Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “Oh, and don’t forget to contact the Scamander brothers about the rest of your collection.”
There was a beat of silence.
Sirius and Remus slowly turned towards them, both looking completely bewildered.
“…Your what?” Sirius asked.
The duo simply smirked, exchanging an unreadable look before turning back to them with perfectly innocent expressions.
“Nothing to worry about,” she said smoothly.
“Nothing at all,” the chaos gremlin echoed.
The men stared at them, clearly bewildered.
Remus muttered, “...We’ll circle back to that.”
Still wearing their mysterious smirks, the duo ushered the men towards the door.
The day had only just begun, and something told them it was going to be anything but ordinary.