As the evening wore on, witches and wizards departed at random. At one point, William introduced to his mother, who specialized in rearing rare and dangerous magical plants. She has a large nursery surrounding her ho in the woods where she grows them.
When she invited to visit soti, I gave a vague assurance that I would, while ntally promising that it would never happen. Magical plants gave the shivers. I would always rember the day that I snuck into my mum's greenhouse to explore.
What started as a fun adventure for a child quickly turned into a nightmare. It happened back before I realized how dangerous magical plants could be in this world.
One of the most significant dangers occurs because many people don't consider them a threat. Most of the plants we deal with at Hogwarts are relatively harmless to a wary wizard. Students don't deal with the more dangerous plants; they read about them, which doesn't precisely convey how sneaky and deadly plants can be, I found out first hand when I was young and went exploring. Ever since then, I refused to enter Mum's greenhouse.
Shaking my head, I banished that particular mory back into the deepest, darkest vault of my mind.
Soon, it was ti for us to leave, on our way back ho, I observed, "There were more Macmillans at the gathering than I thought there would be."
Grandma shot a questioning look, "Oh," she remarked. "How many mbers did you expect?"
After kicking at a rock in the dirt, I shrugged, "I don't know, I was just surprised at how many different Macmillan branches there were. Why aren't there more Fawley branches out there?"
"I believe there are," she explained. "But none in Britain, and rember it's not uncommon for nas to die out. Although, I believe that there are so distant branches in the United States and France. I think your father t so of them when he went to France when he was just out of school. If you want to know more, you should ask him about them."
By the ti I made it ho, I was exhausted. Today had been a long day, from the train ride with two of my friends bickering, ssing with Uncle John, and then being introduced to long-lost relatives.
When I erged from our fireplace, I wanted nothing more to go upstairs and collapse in my bed. However, on my way, I noticed the warm glow of a fire burning in my father's study.
Peeking through the door, I froze when I saw my uncle inside with my father. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes let know he had not forgotten my crack about him being a trash panda.
"Why hello there, Alex." Uncle John softly crooned with a sinister smirk. "Co on in."
Not trusting his smile, I took refuge next to my father on his couch. Dad put his arm around my shoulder and casually asked, "So, what did you think about the Macmillans?"
Even though dad was playing it cool, I could tell from the tension in his voice that he was controlling his emotions. Hesitant, I said, "Grandma's brother seed friendly enough, and I'm glad she reunited with her old family."
As my voice trailed off, Uncle John sensing I was holding sothing back, "But?" he interjected.
Gathering my thoughts, I carefully articulated, "Family that isn't willing to stick around during hard tis doesn't deserve to be called family. I only went with Grandma because I could tell it was important to her, and she deserves to be happy. So, while I'm pleased she is happy, the Macmillans an less than nothing to ."
My response seed to poke a hole in the tension in the room. Dad seed content to stare at the fire, seemingly lost in old mories.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Uncle John waggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively at and teased, "So, your father ntioned you were having girl trouble."
Refusing to take the bait, I pointedly mimicked my father and stared at the burning logs in the fireplace. I couldn't tell if the heat on my face was from the flas, or being embarrassed.
Dad protectively put his arm around , "Don't tease him," he admonished. "You should know better, or do I need to remind you about Alice."
Uncle John shuddered, "Are you crazy? Don't say her na. She might appear." After looking around to make sure she wasn't here, satisfied we were alone, he relaxed. Reaching deep into his long, leathery duster, he pulled out a package.
"Catch," he said while tossing the wrapped box. "Think of it as an early Christmas present."
I tore the gift open, curious to see what was inside. Reaching in, I pulled out a set of blue robes with many different shades of blues complete with designs colored in bronze.
"They're dueling robes," Uncle John explained. "We can't have you going out and dueling in just anything."
Tearing my gaze from the robe, I turned to Uncle John, "I love it. Are you going to be able to make it to the competition this weekend?"
Uncle John locked eyes with Dad before shaking his head, "Sorry buddy, I have so business to take care of this weekend that can't be avoided."
I knew from the look that it ant he had work that he felt I had no business knowing.
I guess my disappointnt showed on my face because he comforted, "How about this. If you make it the international tournant in the spring, I will be there."
Grinning, I said, "Deal."
Not long after, Uncle John had to leave, leaving just my dad and in the office. At first, we sat in comfortable silence, watching the fire burn down.
Breaking the silence, "Talk to about Hogwarts," Dad said.
After telling him all about the secret dueling clubs, Dad mused, "Dueling was never really my thing, that was more up your uncle's alley."
"Really?" I asked, "You don't talk much about your ti at school. What were you into back then?"
Dad seed to sink into his mories, "Charm club," he said with a fond smile on his face. "I was the captain of the charm club."
I smiled, no shock there. Dad's favorite thing to do was enchantnt. "Of course you were," I teased, "How about trying to surprise ."
This tale has been pilfered from . If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"Hmph." Dad grunted, "I have you know that I was also on the Ravenclaw quidditch team for a few years."
"What? You never told that."
Dad looked a little regretful while running his fingers through his brown hair. "It's not my fondest mory about Hogwarts. I made it onto the team during my fifth year, but during my sixth year, my father disappeared and then the whispers started."
With a frown on his face, dad continued, "Officially, I didn't make the team during the tryouts, but I knew what it was really about, my father being a death eater. Outside of a few close friends, my last two years at school were spent mostly alone."
I couldn't help but scowl, those who had wronged my family would pay. Not today, not tomorrow, but soday.
Dad saw my expression and decided to change the subject, "How is life in the Ravenclaw tower?" He questioned. "Is your project going well."
It took a second to understand that he was trying to speak around the binding concerning the Ravenclaw trial. I shot him a confident smirk, "It's going about as good as it could get. I would say I'm around halfway there." I tried to say more, but I found I couldn't get the words out of my mouth. The binding has decided I said too much and kicked in, preventing from saying another word on the subject.
Inwardly I was fuming at the restriction. I didn't like the fact that I would be forever restricted from speaking on the subject. I should look into seeing if there is anything I can do about it. While it would be difficult, it should be possible. Hell, if I could figure a way out the binding, I bet I could think of a way to slip the magical trace. While the trace didn't prevent from using magic at ho, it still restricted my use of magic outside the house.
Already the bare bones of an idea presented itself to . I would need to do more research to see if it was a viable idea. The only problem is I would need to revisit my mum's greenhouse.
Interrupting my plotting, Dad patted my shoulder with a proud look on his face, "That's my boy."
Deciding to put the matter of slipping magical bindings on the back burner, I asked, "Speaking of projects. How is Project Firebolt coming along?"
Dad sighed, "Slow, at our current pace, it will be at least two years before it's ready."
I cocked an eyebrow at hearing two years. If I rember correctly, Harry got the Firebolt in 1993. But, the books never clarified when the model was actually released, it could have happened a little earlier. I had always found it a little weird how the Nimbus 2001 was released one year after the Nimbus 2000. Typically, five to seven years pass between model releases.
I ntally shrugged, there wasn't much I could do about the whole thing. I wish I were a more experienced wizard, as of right now, the most I could for my dad was to cheer him on from the sidelines. While I know he appreciates it when I watch him work. I wish I could contribute more.
With another heavy sigh, Dad grumbled, "I've heard that Delvin is releasing his newest model next month, the Nimbus 2000. It's supposed to be the fastest broom ever created."
I reached over and patted Dad's arm, trying to reassure him, "Don't worry," I comforted. "You're the best enchanter in Britain. I know you will succeed in creating the fastest broom in the world."
Dad nudged with a grin, "The best? That's a pretty high bar for to live up to, but I suppose it's accurate."
"Well, don't be too full of yourself. You still have to complete the Firebolt." I warned. "I'm looking forward to the day we get to crush Delvin Whitehorn and the Nimbus Racing Broom Company."
A vengeful gleam appeared in Dad's eyes, " too," he murmured.
Our conversation lapsed into silence for a few minutes, before Dad gently asked, "So, do you want to talk about your friends fighting. I could tell it was bothering you earlier."
Part of hesitated, had it been Mum, or Uncle John, I don't think I would have answered. Mum would have interrogated about everything, and I can picture Uncle John smirking about everything.
But, looking at Dad's calm grey eyes, I could tell he just wanted to dispense so fatherly advice, whether I wanted to listen was entirely up to . Had I said no, I imagine he would have dropped the subject entirely. Dad is the best.
Giving into the urge, I confessed, "It was so annoying. The train ride ho was filled with constant snide comnts, and there seed to be so type of competition going on between them. I've never seen Anna or Jessica act like that before."
Dad took a minute to soak in my rant, "Do you rember when I made the twins a miniature unicorn doll that could move and run around on its own?"
I groaned. "Yeah, they both loved that toy so much they each wanted it for themselves. The toy was the cause of the great spat of 1988, which will forever go down in infamy."
Dad shivered, no doubt rembering all the screaming, hair pulling, and wild underage magic.
Normally the twins got along great, but that particular sumr they fought like cats and dogs.
"Well, now you're the unicorn," Dad explained.
Concerned about the analogy, I pointed out, "Didn't the twins end up tearing the unicorn in two?"
Dad sagely nodded, "Exactly, and if I were you, I would rember that before you put yourself in between those two."
"Daaad." I complained, "That doesn't help at all. How do I get them to stop fighting?"
Dad shrugged, "Alex, sotis you have to realize that so of your friends may not like each other. Just because they're friends with you doesn't an they will get along. In fact, being friends with you is the problem."
Seeing how I wasn't fully understanding, Dad rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair. "Whatever happened to my genius son? You know, there is such a thing as too much study. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think you need to put your books down more often."
As I glared at him, Dad put his arms up in surrender, "Alex, those two girls like you."
As his words sunk in, my face started to turn red in embarrassnt. "You don't know that." I retorted.
Dad snorted, "Alex, I watched you and Anna grow up. Trust , that girl has had her eye on you for a while, she may not have understood her feelings for you in the beginning, but considering her behavior with Jessica, I bet she has figured it out."
Trying to buy ti to think about this, I decided to poke holes in his argunt, I said, "Well, what about Jessica?"
Dad gave a half shrug, "I don't really know her that well, but didn't you say her parents were both top of their class in Ravenclaw. Is it such a stretch that she might think you two will be the sa?"
I couldn't decide if I was more embarrassed about having this conversation with my dad in the first place or having to have it pointed out to . In my defense, I have been busy for the last two years. Pretty much every free mont I have had has gone into studying magic.
As my mind started going over my past interactions with Jessica and Anna, I realized I had been missing a lot of obvious signals. The burning in my face intensified the more I thought about everything, both from the humiliation of having the obvious pointed out to and so feelings those mories made feel.
I shot Dad a pleading look, "What am I supposed to do with this knowledge?"
"I don't know. It depends on what you want to do. Just because they like you doesn't an you like them." After a short pause, Dad hesitantly asked, "You do like girls, right?"
I had thought I was at the limit of how red my face could get, but my dad proved wrong because I was pretty sure I was red as a tomato at this point. I tried to channel the heat in my face into laser beams as I glared at Dad, "Yes, I like girls," I growled at him.
He held up his hands, "Just checking."
Seeing how I wasn't satisfied, he offered an olive branch. "Well, that narrows your options. You need to figure out how you feel about each of them. Rember, just because they're interested doesn't an you have to do anything. You're young, figuring out things like this is part of growing up."
A look of worry crossed my eyes, "What if I make a mistake?"
Putting his arm around , Dad tried to confront , "Alex, you're definitely going to make mistakes."
"Dad! You're supposed to say I won't make a mistake."
Dad laughed as I tried to shove him off , "Sorry Alex, but making mistakes is part of life. And speaking of mistakes, it's ti for you to go to bed. Otherwise, your mother will be fuming in the morning."
Before I left the study, I turned back and asked, "So, who is Alice, and why did Uncle John look like he just saw a boggart when you ntioned her na?"
Dad smirked, "Alice is a good example of what happens when you anger a witch. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Rember that wisdom in the future before doing sothing stupid."
Sensing that was all I would get out of him, I turned and left the room. As I laid in bed, I tried to sort out my feelings. Even with the advice I got, I didn't know how to proceed.
Turning to Athena, who was curled up into a ball, "What do you think?" I asked
Athena opened an eye, before yawning and ignoring my plight.
"Fine, be that way," I grumbled.
I didn't have any revelations that night, nor the following days. Soon the weekend was upon us, and it was ti for the dueling competition.
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